Here I am, slicing mushrooms. Melissa wants them thinly chopped, but I haven't much of a talent for neat slicing. Aaron is operating the blender, preparing a kind of humous, but thinned with heavy cream and yogurt. He has just added the chickpeas, now the tahini. Jesús is heating the skillet and watches as the butter sizzles. Melissa is chopping an eggplant, and Carl is boiling potatoes. Carol is nowhere to be seen, and perhaps has crept outside unawares for alone time in the garden.
"Do you hear that?" says Carl.
Yes, piano. Sounds like Chopin. Carol is practicing in the other reception room. Melissa throws the eggplant cubes in the pot of boiling oil, covers it, turns down the heat and stops to listen.
"That is so exquisite!", she says, her face lighting into a huge smile. "I'm gonna go in and listen for a bit. Carl, watch the eggplant."
It is now loud enough so we can all clearly hear it. She has lost none of her magic, and I simply want to pause, and sway, and soak in the magic and the colours of the notes she is sounding with such polish and perfection.
"Hey", Carl says, "She's a piece of work, yes, but what a piece of work."
"Yes", I agree. "We are privileged to have her with us"
"Very privileged", says Aaron, smiling gently.
Jesús, smiling in a way that seems also solemn, throws into the skillet the mushrooms I have just sliced , and now I am adding several cloves of freshly peeled garlic. Carl sprinkles on the soy sauce, fastens the lid on the skillet, and in unison we pause to listen to the music...
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