Violins are musical
It was eerily quiet in the cafe that morning. Regan walked through the doors in a sort of daze, not sure if she was having a particularly vivid daydream or it really was almost empty. With a suspicious mind, her first instinct was something had gone wrong. In the fifteen minutes between opening and her arrival.
I knew I should've been here on time, she thought to herself bitterly. Her steps were quick as she walked in - headed for the kitchen.
"Morning!"
A chipper tone broke through her inner panic. Regan turned her neck to see an almost cartoon like smile on the face of a strawberry-blonde haired woman.
"Oh..." Regan paused, unsure how to best settle her voice. "Good morning ... Niamh."
The teeth disappeared and were replaced with a gleefully opened mouth. It was as though she had learned expressions from anime.
"And you're Regan, right?" smiled Niamh. "I'm glad you remember me!"
It was only two days ago ... Regan forced herself not to frown in confusion. "Of course," she said, with a smile and nod. "You and your, uh, niece are hard to forget."
"Oh," Niamh's laugh was the musical kind. "I have definitely heard that about Fiona before!" She went on laughing.
Regan paused. "It's ... quiet this morning," she said.
"Oh, I know," nodded Niamh. "Isn't it fantastic?"
"A ... little eerie, actually," replied Regan, honestly.
Niamh laughed. "Oh --" she said, looking at Regan's expression. "It's not really though. There's a show on this week in town. Yeah, I thought it's about time they put something on for the kids! Everyone's just about sick to death of them being everywhere!"
"Oh," Regan sighed - promptly embarrassed by herself.
"You didn't think something was wrong, did you?" Niamh's eyes were narrowed and her nose wrinkled up in mockery.
"No! Of course not!" said Regan in exactly the right tone to confirm that she had thought exactly that. If she could have face-palmed and retained her dignity, she would have.
Niamh only smiled.
"I shouldn't laugh but it's hilarious, kids are like Armageddon in huge groups, aren't they?" Niamh seemed to have no problem laughing her head off despite her comment. "They scare everyone away. Then when they disappear everyone wonders if it really was the Armageddon."
"Well, I didn't think that," said Regan quickly - of course she didn't. Oh - oh why did she say that. Niamh was starting to smile-laugh at her. Luckily it seemed to fade rather quickly. With a strangled sigh, Regan looked around for an escape to another conversation. That was when her eyes fell on a case, sitting on Niamh's table, beside her coffee. "... You play violin?"
"Oh! Yes!" Niamh put both hands over the case as if to show it off, smiling proudly. "You want to hear something?"
"Sure," shrugged Regan - why not.
Niamh began to unlock the black case and pull her instrument from it with extreme care. As she placed it under her chin she quickly proceeded with, "I didn't write this."
Regan nearly laughed, leaning back to find a chair while she listened. Naturally violin music was classical, she went ahead and assumed. Something flickered - a sparkle in Niamh's eyes as she watched Regan take her seat - almost finding something comical about her.
Before she began, Niamh moved to the side of her table, where she wiggled her legs for a moment. She touched bow to string slowly, waited. Then her hands began to move faster than Regan anticipated and a quick flash of beat sparked from the instrument. Her legs, turned to the side, moved in the rhythm of her music.
The sound of movement came from the kitchen and Regan looked up to see Emma and Mary-anne standing and watching in awe at the sound. Niamh began to smile widely, her head moving ever so slightly and her shoulders tilting with the notes. Her music had utterly transformed the lifeless atmosphere - not that Regan would ever admit to her cafe emitting such a vibe! The few customers were all moving their heads with the cheerful violinist.
Regan was amazed. The music began to slow and Regan felt the applause coming before Niamh even took the bow away. Niahm laughed, gleefully.
"Wow," said Regan - feeling genuinely impressed. "That wasn't what I expected."
"I didn't think so," agreed Niamh, who was nodding her thanks to Emma and Mary-anne and the four current customers.
"Regan," said Emma, from the counter. "You friend needs to join a band."
Niamh laughed at that. "Oh, I don't need to," she smiled cheerfully at Emma.
"You're in one? Who are they?" asked Emma instantly.
"It's not a real band," admitted Niamh, with a laugh. "It's just a small, casual sort of thing - I don't think that I've even played with the same group of people twice. Okay - maybe I have."
"What kind of band is this?" asked a bemused Mary-anne.
"Oh, sorry!" laughed Niamh. "I got caught up -- no it's a - there's this little bar down, back behind the park in a laneway. And people just gather there I suppose to play whatever instruments they want - I mean, I know all of them now so it doesn't just seem like "random people" to me. But that's how it started. My niece comes there with me sometimes --" she paused because Regan was wearing a surprised face. "Not that one - another. I'll introduce you actually! Why don't you come along one night?"
"Oh ..." Regan was mostly stunned that Niamh had finished talking. "I -"
"Sure she would!" said Emma, amused.
Regan half-rolled her eyes. "Yes, thank you Emma." She turned to Niamh. "I think that sounds nice."
"Oh, it is!" assured Niamh with fiery excitement in her eyes.