Iris spotted Conor in the now crowded auditorium. He was talking with a tall man she could only half see, his back was to her. Hector? Was he here? Her heart skipped. Conor saw her and nodded. The stranger in a white shirt and jean jacket turned.

It wasn’t Hector.

Iris swiftly scanned the crowded room. No Hector. Why hadn’t she asked Rose what he’d said? Had she told him about the concert? She couldn’t spot Rose, either. Where was she? Practicing? Was she anxious about the piece? Did I not put her at ease about playing?

“Here we go.” Tess hurried back onstage and laid a gold cloth on the piano. “It’s the best I could find.” It had the name of the local drama group and their mascot, a greyhound, emblazoned in green. Tess laughed and stood back while Iris lifted the flowers and centered them on the piano.

“Looks rather fab,” Tess said. “You did a good job. Don’t you think?” She checked her wristwatch.

Iris didn’t answer.

“Iris?”

Movement down at the door had caught Iris’s eye. She let out a gasp and abruptly turned to face the back curtain of the stage.

“Iris? What’s wrong?”

“I have to get out of here,” she whispered.

“What? Why?”

Iris ducked past the piano, slipped through the curtain, and was gone.

Tess quickly followed her into the women’s dressing room.

“Something’s happened,” Iris said, “I tried to tell you earlier … at lunch. But … oh … I met someone in Boston. He’s here. Rose met him. He came to the house when you and I were at lunch. He’s been to my house, Tess.… And now … he’s here!”

“Okay. Okay. Calm down.”

“Tess! I don’t … he’s here … and I don’t—”

“It’s all right. Slow down.” Tess’s hands were waving up and down like she was softly combing the air. “Breathe.”

Iris blew air at the ceiling.

“Did you know he was coming?”

“No!”

“So he just—”

“Followed me.”

“Wow. I mean—”

“What should I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

Iris brought her hands to her face and felt the heat there. She shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”

Tess laughed. “You poor thing.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Okay. Sorry. But listen. You can’t leave. You have to hear Rose and Conor. Wait until most of the seats are taken. Before the music is about to start, which is in a few minutes! Slip out and take your seat. Easy peasy. I’ve put a reserved sign on our chairs anyway. At the front.” She squeezed Iris’s hand. “I’ll mind you.”

Somebody had bumped into the drum set onstage and set the cymbals clanging. It made Iris jump. “Where is Rose?”

“She’s probably tuning up.”

“I don’t think so.”

Tess checked her watch again. “I’ve got to get back to the front and help with the raffle tickets. You’ll be all right, pet.” At the door, Tess turned around. “What’s he look like?”

Iris gave her a helpless look.

“Gorgeous? Tall?”

“Tess!”

When Tess had gone, Iris caught herself in the dressing room mirror and sighed. She paced the room, casting her eyes about and listening for sounds of someone approaching. She hoped any moment Rose would come. The door opened and closed, but it was only the musicians gathering in the next dressing room. She heard Italian spoken and laughter rising from children running in front of the stage. It was time for the concert to start.

She stayed in the curtained wings, determined not to look out, but she couldn’t help herself. The community center was packed, every seat taken. Long benches had been carried in from the local school and placed up along the side walls. Rows of twenty seats now took twenty-five. The buzz of chat and shuffling noises of chairs and shoes and coughs and children’s squeals built around the auditorium.

She looked out into the faces, but she couldn’t see Hector’s. What was she feeling? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t pinpoint it but it felt something like a mortified schoolgirl might feel. If he wasn’t so … so Hawaiian shirt!

For a moment her eyes locked on the man with whom Conor had been speaking. He was walking toward a seat at the back but looking directly at her. She lowered her eyes and went down the stairs and slid into one of the empty chairs at the front marked “reserved.” She held her hands in her lap and tried to be still and silent and invisible and studied the program notes.

A few moments later she felt someone standing in front of her.

“Mrs. Bowen. Hey. Exciting, isn’t it? Can’t wait to play with Rose.”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure, Conor. Where is she, though, I wanted to speak with her.”

“She said she needed to clear her head. She drove down the road to the beach. Took Gerty. I mean, my van. She should be back soon.” Conor paused, eyeing the auditorium. “No worries. We’re not playing till after the intermission.”

“She used to go there with her father,” Iris said quietly. “To the White Strand. Just the two of them.”

“Ohhhh. Right. I didn’t know … okay. I’ll wait for her by the door so.” As he walked away he pulled out his phone.

Tess was hurrying up the aisle. She had the metal cash box with her. “Great crowd! Isn’t it just mad?” She sat down, leaned in to Iris, and whispered, “Did you see him yet?”

Iris shook her head. “I’m not looking!”

“Right.” Tess turned her head around but Iris grabbed her arm.

“Don’t. Please.”

Something onstage caught their attention. A group of young men in tuxedos in various states of wear came on carrying a bass, guitar, and violin. The man with the electric guitar introduced them as Tuxedo Jazz.

“Oh, they’re cute,” Tess said. Iris nodded, but she was only half listening. They started playing. Tess rocked to the beat of the bass. Iris closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the violin part. And before she knew it, the piece was over.

Tess nudged her and whispered, “You okay, pet?”

“Not really. And where’s Rose?”

Tess’s eyes swept the audience and she gave a little wave and turned back.

“She’s at the back. Look over your shoulder to the left of the door.”

There was Rose standing with Conor. She seemed all right. In her brief scan of the audience she hadn’t seen Hector. It gave her time to think. For an encore the Tuxedo Jazz group played “Sweet Georgia Brown” and behind Iris someone was singing. It seemed as if half the audience was singing or humming and tapping their feet. Iris relaxed a moment and felt lifted, slightly. Rose was there. Okay.

Maybe Hector had left.

Maybe she had only imagined him. And in that moment, when she felt somewhere deep inside a swelling warmth, she realized she did want to see him.

When Tuxedo Jazz finished, they bowed and the crowd clapped wildly. It was as if their jazz was an exotic thing that landed in West Clare only once in a blue moon. It lifted the audience and with it came a greater freedom in their lives, if only for that evening. At the intermission the back doors were opened and evening sunshine spilled in. Some of the audience stood and chatted and some went out for cigarettes and some over to Tubridy’s for a pint before the second half. Three women started through the audience selling Tess’s raffle tickets. First prize was a dinner for two at the Doonbeg Lodge. Second prize was a family ticket for Bunratty Castle Folk Park and third prize was a wash, cut, and blow-dry at Peter Marks in Ennis.

“You want first prize,” Tess whispered. “I need third.” And she stuck two tickets into Iris’s hand.

The two women stood and stayed where they were facing the stage. Rose and Conor came toward them. Rose had changed into a black dress and her hair was pulled back. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked tired, her mother thought.

Tess said, “Rose, you look wonderful.”

“Yeah, super,” said Conor.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Um. Yeah, I guess. I’m fine.” She looked down. “A little nervous maybe.” Conor put his arm on her bare shoulder and she faced him, but in moving, his arm slipped off as she seemed to intend. “Who was that man you were speaking to when I came back?”