TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Do you like my hair, Aedd darling?’
Aedd was scared for his mortal soul, but did think he should like Bea’s new hairstyle, say that it suited her, and so he nodded. ‘Yes, sweetgums. It looks divine,’ embarrassed, using the word divine. Maybe Bea’s head repatriation was something of a miracle, Aedd thought, which was more than he could say of the hair-and-scare-em new hairstyle, and then, back from the dead and, calling me “darling”, with a bouffant that erred more on the maniacal conductor than a controlled elegant coiffure. But, Aedd had to admit, it did suit her, in a frenzied way.
They had just finished rehearsing in the great hall of the National Gallery, prior to taking to the stage for their first scheduled performance. Bea could hear her name being chanted by the cr
