Garibaldi sat beside Emmylou Harris. Her head was bent over her guitar but her eyes were turned to him.
He looked down at the guitar in his hands.
He still didn’t know what to do. Emmylou was being very sweet but her understanding smile was making little difference.
He could have a thousand private lessons with her and he still wouldn’t be able to play the damned thing.
‘Jim?’
Emmylou was speaking.
‘Jim? You OK?’
‘I’m fine, Emmylou. I just can’t—’
‘Jim?’
He heard the ring of a phone and opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep. The Standard lay on his chest and his phone was vibrating in his pocket.
He fished it out and looked at the screen.
Alfie.
‘Hi, Dad, it’s me.’
‘Alfie, how are you?’
‘I’m OK, thanks. About this game on Saturday.’
‘Yeah. Preston. Always a season highlight.’ 354
‘The thing is …’
Garibaldi tensed. Was it another refusal? Was it another sign of what was to come?
‘I was just wondering if I could come down Friday night and stay over?’
‘Sure. What is it? Another party?’
Alfie laughed. ‘No, there’s no party. Just thought I’d hang out.’
‘Hang out?’
‘Are you still busy on the case?’
‘Not so busy, no. Looks like I’ve done all I can.’
‘Great. So maybe a takeaway curry or something?’
‘Sure,’ said Garibaldi. ‘See you then.’
He hung up and smiled.
‘Who was that?’ said Rachel coming out of the kitchen.
‘Alfie. Wants to stay on Friday night. Is that OK with you?’
‘OK with me? Of course it is.’
Rachel picked up the remote and pointed it at the speakers.
First Aid Kit started to sing ‘Emmylou’.
‘You OK, Jim? You’ve been asleep.’
Garibaldi rubbed his eyes. ‘Yeah, just dropped off.’
Rachel pointed at the newspaper lying on his chest. ‘Interesting stuff.’
‘Yeah. A real shot in the arm for private tutoring.’
‘And public schools.’
‘Or, as I like to call them, private schools.’
Garibaldi hauled himself up and sat on the edge of the sofa. He looked up at Rachel. ‘You’ve got to get it in perspective, though, don’t you?’
‘Of course you do,’ said Rachel. ‘I’m all in favour of a bit of perspective.’ 355
‘I mean not all private lessons are bad, are they?’
‘Do you have any particular ones in mind?’
‘Yes I do.’
‘And are you going to tell me which ones they are?’
‘They’re the ones I always enjoy, the ones I’ll never tire of.’
‘Tell me more.’
‘They’re the ones with you, miss.’
He hauled himself off the couch and took Rachel’s hands.
First Aid Kit continued to sing. Garibaldi led Rachel to the bedroom ready to be Johnny Cash to her June and Gram Parsons to her Emmylou.