He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed her before. She was sitting several rows ahead of him to his left in the seat closest to the aisle, and she was the only other passenger in the car. Possibly she had switched seats or had been reclining. The first thing he noticed about her was her hair. It was a soft straw color, almost gold but not quite. It looked fine and soft, like a baby’s hair. Despite his fatigue, he felt a faint urge to touch her hair and see if it felt as soft as it looked. She turned her head to one side and he caught a glimpse of her profile. Her eyes were pale ice-blue and her lips looked a natural shade of red. He doubted she wore lipstick, possibly just some gloss. She sat upright and then looked behind her, and that was when their eyes met. It could have been from the same boredom that gnawed at him, or maybe it was a woman’s intuition: maybe she knew someone was watching her. For some odd reason, he was taken with the urge to look away, but instead they sat there. "You have to accompany me in a minute and I don't want to haveto cope with a pissed pianist!" Not the world's greatest joke, but itbroke the tension and my tears turned to laughter.The rest of the first half of the show went off smoothly. I changed mydress for a simple black, floor-length gown to accompany Annie as herstyle was more sophisticated. During the break a number of the otherperformers and waiting staff came back stage to congratulate me on mydebut performance and I realise, once again, how lucky I was to haveended up working with such a fabulous group of people. Tina - (nee'Philip') - was particularly sweet, asking me if I was now comfortablewith the thought of wearing dresses as my normal working attire. "I'll befine," I responded, "Heels and skirts take a bit of getting used to on apurely practical level, but I think I have cracked that and, as you toldme weeks ago, the wearing of female clothing doesn't make one gay. Infact I feel more at ease in what I am wearing.
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