‘And she’s okay to look at.’ I put my notepad away, swung my stool around, and waited to see if she could warble. Someone hit a spotlight, and ...hat’s when I got a real good look at her. All pale skin and dark clothes, and no make-up except painted ruby lips. Jazzy Girl. Behind her sat a serious looking quartet: piano, sax, drums and bass. They reminded me of a wicked trio I had a couple-three years back in the days when I had a CD out and concert hall gigs and money out the wazoo and everybody. Upon seeing her light it, the waitress brought an ashtray to our table. “Do you want one?” She asked me. “No.” I had only ever smoked, because Mark had. But since getting pregnant I had given up completely. “So, what’s new with you?” I realised straight away that it was a pretty silly question, I had never known anything about Nicola’s life. I think she realised that I never knew anything about her life, so kindly told me a few things about her current life. “I am studying to become a massage. More

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