As if she’d heard their soft conversation, Mrs. Hill beckoned to her son. Max sighed, clutched Kit’s hand like a lifeline, and they stepped across to her chair.
“So you’re a musician, young man,” she said as they came closer. “Why aren’t you in the local orchestra?”
“Mom, you promised not to be nosy.” Max’s brows lowered.
“How is that being nosy? I’m just curious.”
Kit had to smile. Mrs. Hill was as curious as a cat, and seemed ready to burst if she didn’t get some answers. “That’s not really my type of music, Mrs. Hill.”
“For your information,” Max added in a huffy tone, “Kit plays the viola and the double bass. He couldbe in the orchestra if he wanted to.”