The door closed behind her softly. For a long time, he stood looking after her and then he started to move. Life could certainly be complicated and that was the understatement of the evening for a start.

When he went into the Long Room, Chuck Lazer was really high, way out on the edge of a cloud in a cool and quiet place where no one could touch him. After a while, he came back to earth slowly, his fingers crawling down the keyboard in a series of intricate chords and opened his eyes.

No one was listening and half the couples on the floor kept on dancing as though the music was still playing. As Lazer recognized him, Nick grinned sympathetically.

‘You were on your own, man. Nobody heard.’

‘Depends on your point of view, General. They were all out there with me, alive or dead, makes no difference. Fats and Bix, Jack Teagarden, Charlie Parker, Goodman, Billie Holliday. Anyone there ever was or ever will be.’

Nick offered him a cigarette, gave him a light. ‘How about a drink?’

The American shook his head, ran the back of a hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. ‘I need more than any drink, General, for what ails me.’

‘I was speaking to your doctor earlier tonight,’ Nick said carefully. ‘He seems to think there’s some hope for you.’

‘Don’t they always?’

‘A new treatment,’ Nick said. ‘Not really new, but it’s been tried successfully.’

‘What’s it involve. Withdrawal?’

‘With the assistance of a drug called apomorphine. Prevents withdrawal symptoms and cuts out the craving for the usual stuff.’

‘Sounds too good to be true.’

‘How did you get hooked in the first place?’

Lazer shrugged. ‘The wrong kind of party, too much booze. Someone gave me a shot for a giggle after I passed out. That’s all it took.’

Nick’s hand balled up into a fist on top of the piano, the knuckles gleaming whitely, and Lazer grinned. ‘I know, General, that’s just how I felt.’ He got to his feet abruptly. ‘Sit in for me a couple of minutes, will you? I need a fix.’

He pushed his way through the crowd to a door in the corner by the bar. Nick sat down, nodded to the bass man and drummer and moved straight into a solid, pushing arrangement of ‘St Louis Blues’. He was into the third chorus when Lazer returned. Nick started to slow, but the American shook his head, sat on the edge of the stool beside him and joined in.

The volume increased gradually with the tempo, Lazer gauging the length of each break expertly, Nick responding in the bass. Quite suddenly, there was something there, something different that had the couples on the floor turning in surprise to move towards the piano, crowding in, drawn by something that was real, that was as elemental as life itself.