If music be the food of love...

A chance encounter with a window cleaner and a night of song lead to love for Marj

- A short story by Audrey Parkinson

If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Twelfth Night William Shakespeare

What shall we do for this month's entertainment night" asked Nan of her entertainment associate.

"I'm thinking about it" said Marj, her partner for village entertainment. "I'm sure we'll come up with something."

Nan and Marj ran the village entertainments committee. Nan also helped her husband to run the local newsagents and lived above the shop.

Marj lived in a flat above a hairdressers where she helped out. Their entertainment job was not easy - as to quote the old adage "you can't please all of the people all of the time."

After a few meetings, they decided on a music night, featuring some of the older musicals.

"Y-yes" said Marj, hesitantly. "But who could we get to perform?"

Nan listed a few of the music and dancing societies in the village - in particular the wonderful pianist, Mrs Morris.

"We'll speak to her and see what she needs and what we need to do," said Nan, completely undeterred.

Some days later, Nan was returning to her shop when the window cleaner had arrived.