Page 159 of Playing By Ear

Finally they entered the kitchen. “Lucy, this is Perry,” Belinda said. “Can you say hi?”

“Hi,” came a soft voice from his right, where a table appeared to be.

“Hello, Lucy.” He had no idea what to add. As an only child, he had no nieces or nephews, so children were a bit of a tongue-tying mystery.

A sound like rolling thunder came down the stairs, followed by a booming bark. Perry placed his folded-up cane on the table and sat down so as not to appear a threat.

Belinda spoke the dog’s name softly as Layla approached with slow, deliberate steps, toenails clicking against the floor, a soft growl rumbling. Perry let his hand dangle beside him and kept his gaze away from the dog.

A muzzle, prickly with short whiskers, brushed his dangling hand. Layla sniffed Perry’s sleeve.

“You smell Jamie,” he said. “This is his shirt, not washed since he wore it last.”

“Clever, that,” Belinda said.

“It was Jamie’s idea.” Perry didn’t pull a face at the slobber sliming the back of his hand. “Thank you for the drool, Layla. I’m honored.”

Lucy gave a short giggle. Layla moved past his chair to the terrace door, perhaps to look for intruders.

“Mummy, can I go outside with Layla?”

“Of course.” When the dog and child had left, Belinda set a mug in front of Perry, along with a sheet of kitchen roll for the drool. “Lucy’s shy with strangers, so don’t take offense if she doesn’t say much to you.” Jamie’s sister settled into the next chair. “Now, I must know everything about this man who’s wise enough to love my brother.”

“Oh. Well, we haven’t said that yet.”

“You’re here, probably against your better judgment. Obviously you love him.”

Perry smiled down into his tea. “It’s hard not to.”

“You’ll be disappointed,” she said, “if you’re hoping the rest of us are like him. Apart from Lucy. She’s got his tender heart, God help her.” Belinda touched his arm. “Now, give me the unvarnished truth about yourself. Your family, your history, I want to know it all.”

Assuming Belinda had done a full background check on him, Perry told her where he’d grown up, where his parents worked, why he was losing his sight. Everything apart from how he earned most of his money these days—and why he’d quit refereeing.

“Well, you’ve got my official blessing.” Belinda patted the table, her rings making a metallic tap. “Let’s do a food inventory and put together a list of things to fetch from the shops.”

Lucy and Layla returned as Perry was taking his electronic Braille label maker out of his bag. Layla gave the tool a quick sniff, then lumbered off toward the stairs.

“What’s that thing?” Lucy asked.

He showed her. “Let’s do your name.” Perry plugged in the USB keyboard, tapped in LUCY, then handed her the printed label.

Lucy held it up to the light and touched the bumps. “You can read with your fingers?”

“A wee bit. It’s great for single words, which is why I brought it. I don’t want to mix up ingredients when I’m cooking for your grandda and Uncle Jamie.”

“Can I make the labels?” she asked. “Please?”

“That would be a massive help,” Perry said.

“You’re an angel, mia San Lucia.” Belinda handed Perry a basket of spices and dried herbs. “Sort through these and give the ones worth keeping to Lucy. Shout out any you want me to add to the list. Meanwhile, I’ll clear the fridge of its weeks-old takeaways.”

Perry took a whiff from each jar. Common spices like black pepper and cinnamon seemed new(ish), but others smelt closer to dust. The jar of tarragon was so old it bore an actual physical price tag.

They moved on to the condiments, binning the spoilt ones and Lucy labeling the fresh. With Belinda’s guidance on Martin’s tastes and limitations, Perry finished a list of groceries that would see them through the week.

Belinda picked up a jangling set of keys from the worktop. “Ready, Lucy?”

“No, I’m doing this.”