Black line drawing of a treble clef and bass clef forming a heart, with a second bass clef below it that contains a cartoon face with a tear, shown as a tattoo design on white.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Treble and bass clef heart design

Black and grey · Flash

The image shows two black line drawings on a white background. The upper design places a treble clef and a bass clef together so that their curves form a heart shape. The lower design is a bass clef with a cartoon face with a single blue tear drawn into its upper curve, with two vertical bars to its left.

Treble clef Bass clef Heart Music Cartoon face Design

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The reunion hall still smelled of floor polish and the orange squash they used to serve at the Christmas concert, and I had been holding a paper cup of it by the tombola for ten minutes before anyone recognised me. Then Dev Sandhu came across the parquet with his tie loosened and said, "Still counting the bars under your breath, Miss Calder?" I told him I had given up counting bars in 1999. He said that was a lie, and he was right.

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We had shared a battered upright in the music block at Marsh Lane for three years. Dev sang bass in the choir and I played the piano badly enough to keep him honest. We wrote one piece together for the leavers' assembly, a hymn with a tune that refused to sit still. On the score I had drawn a treble clef and he had drawn a bass clef, and somehow the two of them curled into each other until they made a heart. Mrs Pryce took one look and said it was unprofessional. She kept the copy in her desk drawer for twenty years, Dev told me, which I have decided to believe.

Col Brannigan, who sat behind us and could never keep time, saw the heart and couldn't resist. In the margin of the bass part he drew a cartoon face with a single blue biro tear running down from its eye, and a pair of barlines beside it like a cross-eyed witness. Mrs Pryce made him rub it out. He rubbed it out. He also redrew it in pencil, very faintly, which is how I remember it best.

On the way out Dev pressed a folded sheet into my hand. It was the old score, soft at the corners, and in the bottom margin there was the heart, still holding on, and beside it a tiny pale smudge where something had once been erased. "You kept it," I said. "Mrs Pryce kept it," he said. "I just went and got it back."