<div class="floatleft">(https://st2.depositphotos.com/1177973/8764/i/450/depositphotos_87640648-stock-photo-man-in-hat-making-piano.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Headley ('Head')<br/><strong>Location:</strong> At the piano in an ante-room<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Still early<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>His usual, including hat<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Alex, Sam, Sarah, open<br/><strong>Notes:</strong> Relaxed now he's at the piano.<br/></span><hr/>He placed his mug of tea to his left-hand side, on the polished floor, and opened the lid to the piano keyboard.  He just rested his hands on the keys for a moment.  What a feeling.<br/><br/>'You play?' she asked.  'What do you play, exactly?'<br/><br/>He'd thought the woman in white lace was preoccupied with her blond friend, even though she, the friend, seemed to be patrolling the room with her gaze.  But no, White Lace seemed interested: musical in some way, probably.<br/><br/>'I mostly play Tom Waits and,' pointing to his mask, as he lifted it to his head to see better, 'Brel, and all points in between, including some bad numbers of my own.  But here, I thought I'd start with this.  You have to imagine the arrangement:'<br/><br/>And he played, a long tinkly intro.  And then he sang, and played (Leon Russell: 'This Masquerade'):<br/><br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tn-br0h4rZk<br/>(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tn-br0h4rZk)<br/><br/>When he finished he was quick to speak to her again: 'But I also do requests.  I'm just doing this for fun.  Or do you want to play something yourself?'<br/><br/>He smiled, for the first time.  He was terrible at small talk.  Unless it was about songs and music.<br/><br/>And the dark side of sex, of course.  But not at this time of the evening.