Quartet Quasimodo

On a rainy night, in a small bistro just down from the main drag, a moment of history is being made. The trendy French manager squints disaprovingly over his Italin spectacles. "You can play with them." he pouts to the tall, dripping accordionist fumbling his way through the door. And so they met, across a Turkish violin. Diego and Nigel. It turned out to be another low down," where's the money?" bum gig, but the seed was sown.