I settled back in my chair. “Then tell me about the early days of Kieran Walsh.”
“I was born in Hereford.”
I frowned. “The West Midlands?”
He nodded. “With Shropshire to the north,Worcestershire to the east, Gloucestershire to the south-east, and the Welsh counties of Monmouthshire and Powys to the west.”
I had to smile. “You liked geography when you were a schoolboy, didn’t you?”
“Music, too. I started having piano lessons when I was six. However, my musical career began very differently. I was a chorister in Hereford Cathedral.”
I caught my breath. “You sing, too?”
Kieran chuckled. “I haven’t, not for the longest time. My voice broke, and that was that. Then my parents decided that if I was going to make a career out of music, there was only one place I needed to study. We moved to Manchester so I could attend Chetham’s School of Music.” He smiled. “Which led me to study at the Royal Northern College of Music, where I met Karl Mueller.”
“And you stayed there? You went from student to professor?”
His eyes sparkled. “Yes, but my route also took in the Guildhall School of Music and Dance in London where I did my postgraduate studies, followed by a Doctorate in Musical Performance.”
“Where have you performed?”
He shrugged. “London, Manchester, Cheltenham, Bath, Oxford… I even did a performance for BBC Radio Three. AndthenI ended up back at RNCM.”
I stilled. “Wait a moment. You did a doctorate? So you’re actuallyDr. Kieran Walsh?”
He flushed. “I am.”
“Your parents must be very proud of you.” His face tightened, and my stomach clenched. “Forgive me. I think I just found a sore spot.”
“No, you’re right. Theyareproud of me. But right now? They don’t understand me.”
I saw the light. “You mean…”
He nodded. “They wanted to put me in a box with the correct label, and I told them I didn’t have one.”
Something in me shifted at that. Not just the words, but the certainty behind them.
“I think,” I said carefully, “that not having a label can be the hardest place to stand.”
His eyes widened. “That’s what Diana said.”
I smiled. “Then she’s a wise woman, and you’re lucky she has your back.”
Kieran held my gaze for a moment longer, and then he smiled too.
I found myself watching him again. I loved the way he spoke about music. Then there was the way he deflected praise, but couldn’t quite hide the pride beneath it. I loved how he held himself, as if he were still working out where he belonged, even after everything he had already achieved.
This is… unexpected.
I had thought I knew what drew me to him, but right then I realised I had only seen the surface of it. There was more to Kieran, so much more. A quiet certainty stole over me, taking me by surprise.
I want to know all of it.
By the time we stood to leave, the light had shifted again, softer now, the edge of evening beginning to settle over the city.
Kieran glanced at me as we stepped away from the table.
“What’s next?” he asked.