A spotlight came on, centering on a smartly dressed woman sitting on a stool at the front of the stage. Delicate fingers tuned an acoustic guitar. Her vibrant red hair and sharp facial features gave her a fox-like appearance. I had tagged her as ‘Le Fox’ long ago.

“I swear that this was a different room last night.” A voice next to me said softly. Even though it sounded rhetorical, I turned to answer and found myself looking into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I was transfixed. Tearing my eyes from her took a supreme amount of effort and almost physically hurt. By the time I managed it, I could feel the hot flush of embarassment on my face.

“Uh, yeah. The Rock Room is much like the rest of the house. It is, ummm, mercurial, adapting to our needs. It can be an opera stage or more like this.” I said gesturing to the small domed room we were standing in. “Or anything in between.”

“The Rock Room?”

“That’s what I call it. I don’t know if it has a proper name.”

We fell silent with the sound of the first notes.