I might have been on the phone all night if I hadn't heard the music.

I thought, mom, she knows how, but the melody is unfamiliar. I looked back at the screen and it hit me.

Mark?

Hiding the phone under the pillow, pulled on the top, miraculously not forgetting to zip up the shorts and went out into the living room, listening to the motive. Definitely not mom. She reached the door and froze.

Flowers in pots, books and all the rubbish that had lived there for most of the year were removed from the worn-out instrument. The prince sat on a scratched but comfortable stool. The sleeves of...