We kept the practice room past our allotted time and only left when the studio manager came to us and told us the custodial staff wanted to go home so we better wrap up. Sy raised his eyes to me, fierce and dark and expectant. I felt the spark in my own gaze. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.
“There's a good pub around the corner," said Sy.
“What, do you know all the London pubs?" I laughed. I didn't know when I had gone from scowling at him to laughing with him, but here it was.
“More or less," he laughed right along with me. “The magic gives me a hand when I need it, of course. Or Google."
“The greatest magic of all," I giggled. “But yeah, a pint sounds great."
So we sat together in a booth in the pub that was reliably around the corner, as promised (either by Sy's gratuitous use of
