Strike up the band

The band was asked to play ,to amuse the visitors to the book weekend, so they had to practice, practice, practice.

Bernat had never played the trumpet before, he was blowing, huffing and puffing but not a note emerged, "why oh why can't this be as simple as my bass" he moaned.

Miriam was conscious that the photographer had a wee fancy for her, she had seen him pretending to take pictures of the tower whilst zooming in on her. She thought she would blow a loud e flat whilst she tried to appear alluring, alas .......

Jordi tootled manfully on his cornet, trying not to let his delight show. his wife had finally walked out that morning taking the wailing brat, the cat and her mother. tonight he would try his arpeggio on the waitress in the Draga bar. It has been six years since the last fanfare.

Julian toungued his horn with gusto, he knew that despite his mothers imprecations his purple shirt would show off his manly figure to its finest. After pouring scorn on the lesser brass for so many months at last he could let his vibrato loose and astonish the crowd.

As for the rest? Just bit players, mere cacophinists, a wave of discord behind the four
major players. And the biggest triumph of all ? The tinkler on the triangle has come down with flux, so much for rehearsals, Hah!