Tomorrow afternoon I meet with the lovely Peggy for a  and a cup of tea.

Peggy and I met a couple of years ago when I sang for the first time at an aged-care residence in Wheelers Hill. She appeared on the fringes of the small group, gathered in the living room, about 15 minutes into the concert.

The staff told me she never came out to listen and they all appeared a little taken aback but from then on, anytime I came along to sing, Peggy would appear a little later in the scene, wheeling herself up to the edges of the crowd.

She’d have her eyes shut, mainly, and occasionally request more Piaf or Billie Holiday in a whisper-quiet voice, clearly she was a woman after my own heart and we were going to get along just fine.