‘On Friday. Would you like to go?’ Francine smiled, making no effort now to appear world-weary. ‘Sure. That would be nice.’ I smiled back. I wasn’t giddy, I wasn’t moonstruck, but I felt as if I were standing on the shore of an ocean, contemplating its breadth. I felt the way I felt when I opened a sophisticated monograph in the library, and was reduced to savouring the scent of the print and the crisp symmetry of the notation, understanding only a fraction of what I read: knowing there was something glorious ahead, but knowing too what a daunting task it would be to come to terms with it.
