I didn’t know you were into opera, she’d say, impressed.

Oh, you know. I dabble.

Yes, this was perfect.

2

They met in the foyer of Chamberlain Hall.

‘So,’ Annabelle said. ‘What are you thinking?’

He was thinking My God you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I can’t believe how I feel just looking at you, what the fuck is going on? But he wasn’t sure that was the right answer in the circumstances.

That was how he felt, though, and it made his head swim.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘I heard that the opera was in town.’

The opera was in town? Was that what people said. It made it sound like the circus.

‘The opera?’

‘Yeah. The Birmingham Touring Company. They’re doing The Two Wives.’

‘By Smetana?’

Was it? ‘Yeah. Smetana.’

She frowned. ‘You mean The Two Widows?’

He felt his face and neck flush with heat. ‘The Two Widows. That’s it.’

‘And you want to go?’

‘Of course.’

She smiled. ‘I shouldn’t judge by appearances, but I didn’t take you for an opera fan.’

‘Oh, you know. I dabble.’

‘We’re not really dressed for it.’ She was wearing dark blue jeans and a red V-neck sweater. ‘I might be OK, but’ – she looked him up and down – ‘I don’t think Doc Martens, jeans and a T-shirt are going to cut it.’

He felt himself flush even deeper. He hadn’t thought of his clothes.

‘You think I should change clothes?’

‘It is the opera. That you dabble in.’ She smiled. ‘So which operas are your favourites?’

He tried to think of one he knew. ‘I like most of them.’

‘Any in particular?’

There was only one vaguely opera-like thing he could think of.

‘Barcelona,’ he said. ‘I like that.’

She frowned. ‘Barcelona?’

‘You know. By Freddie Mercury and’ – he realized he did not know the name of the other singer – ‘the opera woman.’

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Any others? Don Giovanni, The Magic Flute? Aida?’

‘Love them.’

She folded her arms and looked at him with a wry, amused expression. Was she making these names up? It was possible.

And he really had no idea.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘I know nothing about opera. But you said to surprise you.’

‘This is certainly a surprise.’

‘Then it worked,’ he said.

She laughed, long and hard. Even though she was laughing at him it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘That was kind of weird. But cute. In a desperate way. Maybe we should just go to the pub instead.’

‘What?’ he said. ‘I’ve bought the tickets. And I want to find out why these wives—’

‘—widows—’

‘—widows are so merry. Let’s go and change into our opera clothes. I’ll meet you here in twenty minutes. And I’ll be in my shirt and tie, OK?’

3