"Maybe..." Essery shrugged, but there was something that turned a bit mischievous in her smile as she smiled up at him, and a few minutes later they were standing in a short queue outside a pub that had a marquee with the name of the band she'd been told to look for. Her friend had assured her they were good, that the covers sounded authentic. Tonight, at least, the music hadn't changed - if her friend was right and that all they covered was vintage punk.
The queue assembling jostled her against his side, and she smiled up at him again, and stayed where she was until the line moved.