The girls had regressed to sly giggles. Veronica was nudging Ginny’s arm and reaching to whisper in her ear. Upon which Ginny said, ‘Can we listen to something else?’
‘I thought I’d play jazz,’ Harriet said airily.
‘You only like old school jazz.’
It was true in a fashion, Duke Ellington, Count Basie and Scott Joplin were in keeping with the Twenties, but more’s the point, their music didn’t stimulate her synaesthesia, a spiritual state she found distracting and tiresome in the kitchen.
‘This isn’t old school,’ she said, maintaining a blithe tone. ‘It’s timeless.’
‘Only for you.’ Ginny turned to her friend and, using a turn of phrase beyond her years, she said, ‘At least one of us here has moved with the times.’
More giggles.
Harriet managed to contain herself but when Ginny bent to
