"I was quite nervous during that performance. I usually am when I am playing for the home crowd."
"Yes, I think I understand", says Carl.
"There was an awful lot going on in my life at the time. London, you know, and I really wasn't sure if I was giving all my due diligence in practicing. I seem to have got it right,.."
"There was a lot going on in your life?" he asks.
"Plenty. Too much, really." She scrapes the remains of the chocolate mousse cake, all soaked in Gran Marnier into her mouth. I wonder if the coral lipstick affects the taste for her. The rest of us are waiting, silently, for some kind of story, some kind of explanation to follow.
She looks up, and directing her gaze at Melissa, asks, "Are seconds permitted on the dessert?"
"Yes", she says. "Let me get it for you."
"Thank you, dear, I can get it."
As Carol leaves the room, we are all still seated in expectant silence, perhaps collectively disappointed that she is not quite ready to tell any of her story, that she is not willing yet to be forthcoming.
"Would anyone else like some more of this heavenly mousse cake?"
There are no takers. Like a naughty school girl, Carol returns to the table with another bowlful of chocolate mousse cake which she proceeds to quietly shovel into her gaping maw....
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