Mona tried not to think about how the heat would put her cello out of tune. She was grateful the train had come at all.

Its clatter as it sped from the station was a comfort, helping her shake memories of her lover's death from her mind.

The warm air lulled Mona, made her languid. She unbuttoned her heavy wool coat and pulled it back from her shoulders. When that wasn't enough, she pulled her long skirt above her knees.

Mona leaned back on the seat, letting her legs fall open. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, lazily fanning her face with one hand.

Someone at the opposite end of the car wolf-whistled.

Startled, she snapped her legs closed and sat up, pulling her coat across her chest. When she looked to see who had whistled, she saw no-one.

A voice whispered in her ear, cool breath a relief against her flushed cheek: "Make music for me."

Mona turned. There was no mistaking those pale eyes, that white-gold hair, that full mouth twisted into a half-smile.

"Asa?"

"Hi, Gorgeous."