Vera's place in the room on Friday had become a question over lunch. Vivienne wanted to find her before the first song, but she wanted to get on with singing afterwards, too. The possibility of being foolish about a familiar face did not make her ask Vera to hide. Choose somewhere you like, she said. There was still the splendid ending to consider, and she claimed the right to enjoy it. Then she brought her attention back to the fish before the entire concert could take possession of their meal.
Second row, Vera decided, if there was a place. She wanted to see a singer's face without spending the evening with her head tilted. She would enjoy the splendid ending if Vivienne sang it well; solitude, in Vivienne's account, had acquired a remarkable crowd. But the onion tart was cooling. Vera claimed a corner of it and asked a more practical question about Friday. When the singing finished, would Vivienne disappear, or could she come and find her?
The answer came plainly: come and find me. Vivienne supplied the location as well. She usually lingered beside the piano, rearranging music that was already in order, giving waiting the appearance of professional necessity. Telling Vera spoiled that useful disguise. The songs would still need putting away, but Vera need not hold back until the singer had made herself an agreeable civilian. Vivienne wanted her there while she was still a little ridiculous. A piece of fish accompanied the invitation, an offering she recommended above her own account of evenings beside a piano.
Vera accepted the fish and offered some tart in return, before their exchange could be described as another occasion on which she took Vivienne's work apart. She would come to the piano. Getting out of the second row might take time, though, and thirty seconds should not be made to carry a tragedy. Then she asked whether those previous evenings had involved waiting for somebody in particular. Vivienne could decline to answer. Vera preferred a question, with its possible refusal, to privately supplying a rival.
Sometimes there had been somebody. The more embarrassing evenings, Vivienne admitted, were those when she had invited nobody at all. She stayed for another conversation, and then another, trying to make leaving alone feel chosen. The ordered music was useful to that delay. No magnificent rival emerged from the account: there was Vivienne, keeping a very tidy piano. Friday would be different because she had asked Vera to come. If Vera were delayed, she might put the music away and go looking for her.
Vera welcomed the prospect. She offered the image of herself retrieving a coat while trying not to strike anyone with a catalogue, then immediately withdrew the catalogue from Friday's plans. She had become absurdly reluctant to leave Vivienne's crooked drawing anywhere. Her question had not been an attempt to acquire a rival; she wanted to know whether she was being invited into an evening already familiar to Vivienne. She liked having been asked. She also wanted some time together beyond the reach of people waiting to compliment the singing.
Vivienne proposed a departure. Vera could help carry the music downstairs, and they could leave before the compliments required another case. Their dance remained ahead of them; Vivienne said she wanted that, too. First, though, she wanted a few minutes walking outside, somewhere that had not already been discussed over lunch. Vera could choose the direction. Having offered the evening an actual exit, Vivienne examined her own invitation with amusement. Was it appealing, or had she distributed the luggage and called the arrangement courtship?
Appealing, Vera said, while correcting the distribution. Vivienne could carry the music. She wanted Vivienne's other hand. The direction would be chosen when they were outside, and she would not announce it now: Vivienne had asked for somewhere they had not discussed, and Vera intended to keep one small surprise. Friday had acquired a meeting place and a way of leaving, while its ending still belonged to the future. But the word courtship deserved attention before another bite of lunch. When Vivienne first invited her to hear the singing, had she already imagined them leaving together, or had that possibility come into being here?