“I was almost late getting here today,” she said. “My oldest client is taking his music exam tomorrow and I gave him a last-minute lesson this morning. He’s very nervous.”
“Still? At the age of eighty-one?”
“He’s had a birthday and is eighty-two now. And if something’s important to you, then a touch of anxiety can be good. It makes your body feel more alive and receptive.”
Mitchell felt a drumming in his chest, his own adrenaline pulsing at being with Liza, and he knew this was true. “It’s great he’s doing this later in life.”
“It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks,” she said. “Well, except maybe Sasha. I’ve been trying to get her not to pull on her leash for ages, and nothing works.”
He smiled to himself and reached into his pocket. “I have something to show you.” When he uncurled his palm, a small silver heart-shaped padlock glinted in the sunshine.
Liza pursed her lips. For once, she used few words. “For Anita?” she asked hesitantly.
“It’s for us,” he said. “The start of something. If that’s okay?”
When her laugh rang out, it was full of joy and relief. She linked her arm through his. “It’s more than okay. But I thought your job was to remove the locks. Won’t you get in trouble for this if anyone sees you?”
“I’m officially still off work. Maybe just one more won’t hurt.”
“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.” She winked.
“Good. I know just the place.”
He led her off the bridge, along the road and down a few steps that led to a grass verge. Crisscrosses of white struts supported the Yacht bridge underneath it. “If we hang the padlock under the bridge, no one will see it. But we’ll know it’s there.”
They both ducked down, where the shadows were cool and soothed their hot skin. The sound of anyone else nearby was eclipsed by the shush of the river flowing past them.
“Is there a message on the lock?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I thought about it, but some things are best said in person.”
She looked into his eyes and opened her mouth to reply. He leaned forward and stopped her with a kiss to her lips.
She let out a small gasp before wrapping her arms around him. He cupped the padlock gently in his hand against her back.
They both melted into the moment, and Mitchell felt happy, like he was somehow coming home.
“Sometimes actions are better than words,” Liza whispered.
Afterward, they glanced giddily at each other and attached the lock together. Mitchell put the key in his pocket rather than tossing it into the water, and they made their way back up onto the bridge.
When they reached Barry and Poppy again, they were chatting to Carl and Susan.
“Carl managed to get a meeting with Brad,” Susan announced proudly as Mitchell and Liza joined them. “The two of them got on like a house on fire.”
“I made origami figures of the band, Mr. Fisher,” Carl said. “He really liked them, said they were quirky.”
Susan nodded. “And Brad really liked the story of Upchester people being inspired to write letters. He says he writes songs very quickly and even jotted down a few lyrics while I was there, and—”
Her words were interrupted by a roar of applause that soared around them. Electronic feedback screeched through a speaker onstage and Mitchell frowned in the direction of the noise. A woman beside him whooped, and her boyfriend gave a loud whistle.
Onstage, lights swept to and fro. Lasers shot up toward the sky. A young man with spiky purple hair appeared and sat down behind a set of drums. A brief expectant hush fell across the crowd before the cheering started again, even louder.
Another man approached the microphone stand and thrust one arm in the air. This time, Mitchell felt bodies surging past him, trying to suck him along with them.
He wrapped protective arms around Poppy and Liza, holding them close.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” the man shouted into his microphone. “I’m Brad Beatty and we are Word Up.”
A fanfare of music blasted out. Poppy jumped up and down, squealing.
“We’re going to kick off tonight’s centenary celebrations with a new song,” Brad said. “It’s called ‘Love Letters’ and I hope you guys like it.”
Mitchell, Liza and Poppy looked at each other and laughed.
He wondered what effect the song might have on the city folk of Upchester, and it was joyous to contemplate.
Then the first few bars of music kicked in. The crowd moved forward again, and Mitchell allowed himself to be swept along with them all.
* * *