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“One, two, three, four,” Jules counted as she played.
“Very good. Let’s make it a little more difficult. The next bar you see has only three notes in it. Two identical ones which you have already seen and know are worth one beat, and another note with a hole in the middle. How many beats is that new note worth?”
“Two,” Jules said promptly.
Teaching adults was a damn sight easier than teaching children, Billie thought. “Okay, then play this bar.”
And so they went on for a full forty minutes until Billie called a halt to proceedings. She was actually surprised at how much they’d covered. Which meant she was even more surprised when Jules turned around with a frown on her face.
“Seriously? I’ve played one note about a billion times. That’s all we’re doing?”
“You made a good start,” Billie said.
Jules snorted. “I’m coming back tomorrow.”
Billie, whose schedule was still pretty empty, shrugged. “If you like.”
“I do like.” Jules stood up and walked toward the living room door. “And we’d better speed this whole thing up a bit,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
Billie watched her go and somehow doubted that she would see her. Jules was impatient and seemed to think that learning the piano was something that could be accomplished in a short amount of time.
She shook her head. Still, at least she was nice to look at, and she supposed that she was enthusiastic. But her impatience didn’t bode well. Billie figured if she didn’t quit this time she wouldn’t make it past lesson three.
Chapter Six
There was the sound of rustling paper and giggling from the living room and for a second Jules had memories of Christmas morning. It was only when she pushed the door open and found Cass and Amelia in hysterics that she really woke up.
“What’s all this?”
“The equipment came,” Amelia said.
“And we passed our course,” added Cass.
“Although it wasn’t really pass-fail,” added Amelia. “It was more just sort of ‘turn up and learn this stuff and it’ll be alright.’ Still though, we turned up.”
“And learned some things,” Cass said doubtfully. She was holding two bottles in her hands. “What are these again?”
“The colors,” Amelia said. “Jesus, Cass.”
Jules took in the packages and boxes scattered around the room and then the big black Tardis looking machine standing in the middle of the carpet. “What’s that then?”
“Time machine,” said Amelia.
“It’s a Multiple Use Easily Transportable Spray Tanning Booth,” Cass said, tilting her head sideways to read the empty box by the couch.
“Oh,” was all Jules could think of to say. She flopped onto the couch, kicking away the empty box so she could put her feet up.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” asked Cass.
“Not ‘til tonight.”
“And why exactly do you have a face like a dog’s arse?” Amelia said, experimentally pulling the trigger on what looked like a spray bottle attached to a garden hose.
“Do not.”
“Do so,” Cass said, collapsing on the couch beside Jules. “What’s up, Jules? Tell your Auntie Cass all about it.”
Jules sighed. “It’s just that things aren’t quite going to plan.”
