Imperfect Harmony by Jay Northcote

paper, which he’d been working on all week. Lost in the clues and trying to find the solutions, he was dragged back to reality when the doorbell rang and he realised an hour had passed.
    He opened the door to find Rhys on the doorstep, with a bouncy Starry on a lead and a carrier bag in his other hand.
    “Hi,” Rhys said. Starry launched herself at John, jumping up onto her hind legs. “Starry, no!”
    “Hi.” John pushed Starry down onto all fours, but crouched to pet her. “Hey Starry, good to see you too, girl.” He looked up at Rhys and grinned. “That was quite a greeting.”
    Starry was sniffing him and making excited little whines.
    “I think she’s hoping to see Billy again,” Rhys said.
    “I’m sorry, Starry. You’re out of luck. Maybe on Saturday morning, though. If you fancy a morning walk again?” He looked questioningly at Rhys. “Maggie’s managing to walk him again some of the time now, but I’m sure he’d enjoy a longer walk, so I could borrow him.”
    Rhys smiled. “It could be arranged if I set my alarm. I’m not normally out that early.”
    “Oh no. You don’t have to….”
    “It’s okay. I enjoyed it, and Starry liked the company too. I’ll meet you there at nine.”
    John straightened up, rubbing his palms on his jeans. “Did you, um, want to come in? Have a cup of tea or something?”
    “No thanks. Starry wants to walk, as you can see.” Starry was tugging at the lead impatiently now. “But thanks for the offer. Here.” He gave John the carrier bag. “I’ll see you Saturday morning, then?”
    “Okay. It’s a date.” John smiled and then flushed right up to the tips of his ears when he realised what he’d said.
    Rhys didn’t seem to notice or care. “Cheers, then. I hope you like the music. You can tell me what you think on Saturday.”
    “Will do. Bye.”
    John closed the door and stood for a moment with the carrier bag clutched to his chest and a stupid grin on his face. He looked down at the bag. There was no time like the present.
    Once he was sitting at the piano, John pulled Rhys’s books out of the bag. They were well used, their corners scuffed and ragged. One was a Songs of the Sixties compilation, the other an eclectic mixture of popular, folk, and some old music hall songs that had simple-looking piano accompaniments.
    John started with Songs of the Sixties . He didn’t allow himself to think too hard about what he was doing, but he consciously chose the more upbeat, cheerful songs and skipped over the ones that might tug at his heartstrings too much. Then he moved on to some of the songs in the second book.
    Just as Rhys had said, playing the piano was like riding a bicycle. The more he played, the more familiar it became. His fingers, hesitant at first, were soon flying over the keys, the muscle memory bypassing his conscious brain. When John finally stopped playing, he was smiling, exhilarated and happy. He could do this, and what was more, for the first time in two years, he wanted to.
     
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
    Rhys set his alarm for eight on Saturday morning, hoping it would be dry. He’d checked with his mum the night before, and she was happy for him to take Starry for her morning walk. Although she looked a little bemused by Rhys’s sudden enthusiasm, she hadn’t asked him why. Rhys was glad. He wasn’t sure how to explain the nature of his relationship with John; he didn’t really understand it himself yet. The friendship was too new, too tentative to withstand detailed analysis. Rhys was just happy that John seemed to want to spend time with him too.
    Starry was thrilled to see Rhys when he popped next door to pick her up. His mum was already up and about, sitting on the sofa, with a cup of coffee and her iPad.
    “Morning, darling,” she said.
    “Hi, Mum.” He crossed the room and stooped to give her his usual kiss on the cheek. She smelled familiar and comforting: her usual shampoo and the faintest trace of perfume.