The Choir on Hope Street

by Annie Lyons

  I laughed. He held out his hand and as I took it, he pressed my hand to his lips. ‘Sorry,’ he smiled. ‘Couldn’t resist.’

  I blushed. I actually blushed. Blimey, Nat. You’ve lost it, love.

  The confusion continued to reign supreme as I left choir and returned home. I had thought that Ed might stick around or perhaps even stay over. I had chucked a bottle of Prosecco in the fridge before choir in the hope that we might have a heart-to-heart over the latest ups and downs of my day, but by the time I’d turned my key in the door, kicked off my shoes and pulled on my slippers, he was out of his seat and putting on his coat.

  ‘Have you got a date? You smell like you’ve got a date,’ I observed, sniffing his neck on the way past. ‘That’s your pulling after-shave.’

  ‘It’s not after-shave, you pleb. It’s eau de parfum.’

  I pulled a face. ‘Whatevs. So you don’t want to stay and get merry with your BFF then? I have had a very interesting day.’

  He pouted in apology. ‘Sorry, gorgeous. I’ve got an early start but let’s make a date soon, ’kay?’

  ‘’Kay,’ I replied.

  He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. ‘Always here for you, my darling. You know that, don’t you?’

  I accepted the hug with gratitude. ‘Yeah, I know. Was Woody okay?’

  ‘He was a complete sweetheart, as ever. He beat me at Fifa about fifty times.’

  I smiled. ‘That’s my boy. Thanks for tonight.’

  ‘Any time, my love. Any time. So Dan’s moving to a flat in Forest Hill then?’

  I nodded. ‘Apparently. After all his denials, it turns out that it is too cramped at his mum’s and he wants to be nearer to Woody. He says it’s temporary until things are sorted out. Who knows what to believe? I heard about it via text. We’re not speaking at the moment.’

  He hugged me again. ‘I’m sorry, honey.’

  I sighed. ‘Thank you. Now bugger off. I want to eat ice cream in front of Gogglebox without you judging me.’

  He laughed. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said, kissing me again. I waved him off and then locked the front door before going to the kitchen to fetch something suitably sugary. It wasn’t until I returned to the lounge with tea and a large tub of Maltesers that I realised that I hadn’t actually told Ed about Dan’s flat. I was going to tell him that evening.

  I hadn’t mentioned it to Woody yet either. So it made me wonder how he knew and then it made me realise that he must be in touch with Dan, which confused me further because he hadn’t told me this. In fact, Ed, with his trademark penchant for injecting drama wherever possible, had been adamant that he wouldn’t have anything to do with the ‘shit-bag’ until he had ‘come to his effing senses’ and told me ‘what the bejeepers was going on’.

  It was becoming steadily clearer to me that the list of people who I thought I could trust, who I believed would never lie to me or let me down, was getting smaller and smaller by the day.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CAROLINE

  I was starting to wonder if this train journey was ever going to end, although everyone else including Oliver seemed to be having a whale of a time. The children loved the endless word games which Natalie suggested they play, and they were thrilled when she conducted them in a loud and energetic rendition of ‘Good Vibrations’. Even Oliver had joined in whilst I sat staring out of the window, pretending that I wasn’t with them.

  ‘Come on, Caroline, we need to warm up our voices,’ laughed Natalie.

  Oh, heavens, her mania seems to be bordering on hysteria today. This is deeply concerning. I hope she can keep herself in check.

  ‘Ooh, that’s the London Eye, isn’t it?’ cried Matilda, jumping up and down as we crossed over the river. ‘And there’s Big Ben!’

  ‘And the Houses of Parliament,’ remarked Woody seriously. ‘That’s where that man works, isn’t it, Mum?’

  ‘Which man?’ smiled Natalie, slinging one arm around her son’s shoulders and peering out across the river.

  ‘You know, the one who trips up old ladies and steals their money. George Whatshisface.’

  ‘Osborne?’ asked Oliver with a frown.

  ‘That’s the one,’ nodded Woody.

  ‘Natalie!’ I cried. ‘How can you mislead your son like that?’

  She laughed. ‘Technically it’s only bending the truth. What can I say? I’m a writer. That’s basically my job.’

  ‘It seems a tad irresponsible to me,’ I observed.

  ‘Of course it does, Caroline,’ teased Natalie, raising her eyebrows at Oliver, who laughed.

  The cheek – sharing jibes about me with my husband!

  ‘Right, here we are. Matilda, Woody, hold hands while we get off the train please,’ I said, dismissing my irritation and focussing on the children.

  ‘I’m not holding hands with a boy,’ said Matilda. ‘Even if it is Woody, who is actually my best friend.’

  ‘You’re very wise to be wary of boys,’ declared Natalie. ‘But you can trust this one,’ she added, ruffling her son’s hair.

  ‘Mum!’ complained Woody, ducking away from his mother.

  ‘Oi, don’t you start being mean to me. I’ve got enough problems with unreliable men at the moment. I thought I could count on you!’

  Oh dear, here we go.

  ‘Come on,’ said Oliver, sensing the need to move us on. ‘First one to see Nelson’s Column!’

  Woody and Matilda ran ahead as we made our way across the station concourse onto the Strand. It was a bright, sunny day and I was excited at the prospect of the London Choir Finals.

  I was pleased that Oliver and Matilda had come along to support too. It had actually been Matilda’s suggestion, although I think that she and Woody had been talking about it at school.

  I had noticed a slight change in her attitude towards me since my mother had come to stay with us. It was quite subtle but every now and then she would ask me a question about my childhood and what ‘Nanny’ had been like. I still winced at the name ‘Nanny’ but Matilda had locked onto it and it seemed wrong to challenge her.

  It was hard to give a positive spin on my relationship with my mother and often I found myself just talking about Dad instead. Still, she seemed to enjoy this too and only yesterday had come to me with a picture she had drawn. It was of seven figures, six of them standing on the ground with one hovering above on a cloud. She had given it the heading, ‘My Family’.

  ‘This is Daddy, me and you,’ she explained, ‘and this is Gran and Gramps, that’s Nanny in a chair with some biscuits and this,’ she added, pointing to the figure floating above the rest, ‘is Grandpa. He’s dead but he watches everything we do from heaven.’

  I felt my throat tighten and my heart swell with love. Dearest Matilda. ‘It’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘Really. Would it be okay if I framed it?’

  She seemed surprised but pleased. ‘If you like.’

  We crossed the road and made our way to St Martin-in-the-Fields, where the Final was due to take place. I had made sure we were early. I had even told Natalie a small white lie so that she arrived at our house half an hour before we needed to leave.

  ‘There’s an hour until it starts so I suppose we should go in and warm up,’ I said to her.

  ‘How about I take the kids for a drink and a cake somewhere and we’ll come back later?’ suggested Oliver.

  ‘If you’re sure that’s okay,’ said Natalie. ‘Here, let me give you some money for drinks.’

  Oliver waved her away. ‘My treat,’ he said. ‘Okay, come on kids, wish your mums luck or tell them to break a leg or whatever,’ he added, leaning forwards to kiss me.

  ‘Break a leg? That’s funny,’ laughed Matilda. ‘Break a leg, Mum,’ she said, grinning at me.

  ‘See you later,’ I smiled.

  ‘Oliver’s lovely,’ remarked Natalie. ‘You’re lucky.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ I nodded. ‘Although I’d feel a lot luckier if he found a job and I could
get my mother into a new place.’

  ‘Did you leave her at home on her own today?’

  ‘Lord no. I’ve asked Laurie, who used to care for her at the home, to come over. I offered to pay her but she wouldn’t take anything.’

  ‘That was kind of her.’

  ‘Yes it was. So how are things with Dan?’ I wouldn’t normally ask but it felt only polite.

  Natalie sighed. ‘I’m having a day off thinking about it today. I just want to enjoy the singing.’

  I smiled. ‘Fair enough. I’m having a day off thinking about my mother. Shall we go and find the others?’

  We were the first from our choir to arrive and as we stepped into the church, we both exclaimed at its beauty. ‘Wow,’ breathed Natalie. ‘This is stunning.’

  She was right. I had been here a few times before but I’d forgotten how breathtaking the interior was with its white pillars, beautiful stucco ceiling and ornate chandeliers. It had the air of sacred beauty and I felt my heart beat a little faster at the thought of performing here.

  ‘Caroline! How wonderful to see you again.’ My moment’s reflection was interrupted by Danielle, striding towards me from the altar end of the church. She and her fellow Dulwich Darlings were resplendent in sequin jackets, which I noticed, to my horror, were a shade of teal.

  ‘Snap!’ she cried, holding out the fabric of her jacket to my T-shirt as she reached us. She air-kissed me and nodded to Natalie. ‘So! You had T-shirts printed. So adorable. We thought about it but decided to go a little more upmarket, a little more Dulwich, you know?’

  Oh, I know. I know exactly what you’re saying, you judgemental harridan.

  ‘Still, it may help you if the judges think we’re linked in some way,’ she added, barely able to conceal her bitchiness.

  ‘Well, I wish you luck,’ I replied, swallowing down my irritation.

  She pursed her lips. ‘We don’t really need it but thank you,’ she chimed. ‘Now, you must excuse me, darling. I need to get back to the sound-check. They don’t do it for every choir but as we’re celebrities, they make an exception,’ she added with a wink before strolling back to her fellow singers.

  ‘What a cow,’ observed Natalie.

  I laughed. ‘Thank God you said that. I thought it was just me.’

  ‘Heavens no. What’s with that “so adorable” and “we’re celebrities” crap?’ asked Natalie, parroting Danielle’s voice. ‘Actually, love, you’re not a celebrity, you’re a big fraud in a sparkly jacket,’ she added. I guffawed. Natalie smiled. ‘So tell me the truth, did we really need to be here this early?’ she asked.

  Oh dear. I’ve been found out. I gave her a guilty look. ‘Strictly speaking no, but it did mean you got to see Danielle again,’ I joked. ‘I know how fond you are of her.’

  She laughed. ‘Careful. You’re starting to sound like me. I guess it has got me all revved up and determined to beat the witch, though.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ I smiled. I was relieved that Natalie seemed more relaxed and less hyper than she had been on the train.

  ‘Good morning, lovely ladies,’ said Guy, appearing alongside us with Doly, Jim, Pamela and others in tow. ‘Did you get an earlier train? We just had an impromptu warm-up on the way.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Natalie. ‘Caroline made us leave last night so that we’d be here on time.’

  ‘Ha, ha,’ I said, rolling my eyes.

  ‘My T-shirt feels a bit tight,’ said Jim, pulling off his jacket and raising his arms above his head, revealing an alarmingly hairy belly.

  ‘Maybe just don’t lift up your arms,’ suggested Natalie with a giggle.

  I smiled. The assembled group were in an excited albeit slightly nervous mood and it felt good to be part of this. We’d had a run-through the day before at the School Summer Fair. I had suggested this, partly to give us practice for singing in public and partly because I wanted to be involved. It was the first year since Matilda had started school that I hadn’t been running the show. My PTA rival, Nula, had taken the reins and I wanted to make sure I was there just in case there was a crisis or Phil, the Headmaster, needed me. In the event it all ran pretty smoothly. There were issues with the windy conditions, causing one teacher to be nearly knocked out by a runaway gazebo, and we ran out of Pimm’s halfway through the event, but apart from that, I had to concede that all was running as well as could be expected. Of course I didn’t tell Nula this. I fully intended to be back in charge for Christmas and I didn’t want her getting ideas above her station.

  The choir sang an extended version of the set we performed in the pub. Everyone seemed to enjoy it and some of the parents who had spent too long at the Pimm’s stall even joined in, but it was pretty good-natured. I spotted Zoe and Amanda watching together and noticed Amanda making comments whilst the pair of them cackled like magpies. Afterwards, they were all smiles and hugs towards me. I noticed that Natalie kept a distance.

  ‘Darling! It was a triumph!’ trilled Amanda.

  ‘Wonderful, absolutely wonderful,’ echoed Zoe. ‘I’m just super-sorry I can’t find the time to come along and join in.’ Amanda nudged her and she giggled.

  At that moment I realised how much Amanda reminded me of Danielle and every other bitchy so-called friend I’d had. These were people who don’t like you for who you are but who are always trying to make themselves look better, usually by putting you down. It was a thunder-clap revelation when it dawned on me that I hadn’t missed either of them at all.

  ‘Shall we grab a Pimm’s then?’ cooed Amanda. ‘Although that woman who stole your job doesn’t seem to have ordered enough. Total disaster!’

  ‘Disaster,’ repeated Zoe.

  I smiled. ‘Actually, I need to go and find Oliver and Matilda, so if you would excuse me—’

  ‘Oh,’ said Amanda, looking surprised. ‘See you around then. Are you coming, Zoe?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Zoe, flashing me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘See you around, Caroline.’

  I turned away, feeling as if something I no longer needed had ended. It felt very good indeed.

  My happy mood had continued into the next day. I felt so positive about the choir and everything we were doing. I actually couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way about something. I decided that today was going to be a good day and win or lose, I intended to enjoy myself.

  ‘Right, singing super-stars,’ grinned Guy. ‘Let’s find out where we need to be, shall we?’

  We were first in the running order and I felt a frisson of nerves as we assembled at the front of the church. I could see Danielle smiling in that indulgent, patronising way, which was something of a trademark for her. I felt my fists clench but then I spotted Matilda and Oliver sitting with Woody a few rows back. I noticed the way Matilda leant against her father, craning her neck to get a better look. We locked eyes and she gave me a carefree wave of glee. It made my heart soar and with it my confidence. Guy stood before us, his face bright with enthusiasm. He nodded, raised his hands and we began to sing.

  There is something about singing in a church, regardless of whether you have faith or not, that taps into the soul. There is a deeply satisfying and spiritual quality to the sound that a group of human voices can make in a space like that. This space was particularly conducive, the acoustics lovingly thought out to make the most of the power of sound. I felt my spirits lift as we began to sing. Everything seemed to fall into place and the harmonies sounded beautiful. Our movements were better, less forced and more natural, and we smiled at one another as our music filled the air. It was a near-perfect performance and I felt that we deserved to go through. We’d worked hard, we’d created something special. We had arrived.

  I glanced at Natalie and saw that the corners of her eyes were wet with tears. She caught sight of me and we smiled at one another. It was a smile that said, ‘Isn’t this wonderful?’

  After we’d finished I held my breath. Some part of me wanted to slow down time, to savour this moment
because there was truly nothing like it. The audience clapped and we bowed as one before leaving the stage to sit amongst our friends and family.

  ‘Well done, darling, I’m proud of you,’ said Oliver, kissing my cheek as I sat down next to him.

  ‘It was lovely, Mum,’ admitted Matilda.

  ‘Thank you,’ I smiled. ‘Thank you for coming to support me.’

  We settled down to listen to rest of the choirs. The standard was very high among the other groups and there were only four spaces up for grabs in the Final. Guy and I exchanged nervous glances. The Dulwich Darlings came on to sing last, giving a slightly over-the-top rendition of ‘My Heart Will Go On’. Danielle’s face wore a pained, closed-eyes expression throughout.

  ‘She looks constipated,’ whispered Natalie, nudging me. I laughed.

  Whilst the judges were making their decisions, our choir gathered for a post-mortem.

  ‘The standard is very high,’ observed Doly.

  ‘You were the best by a long shot,’ said her husband Dev, putting an arm around his wife. She rewarded him with a smile.

  ‘I think my bud-up-bahs were still a bit off,’ remarked Jim. ‘I blame the T-shirt.’

  ‘You need to stop having double helpings of my cakes,’ scolded Pamela, patting his stomach.

  ‘They’re coming back,’ said Guy, pointing to the judges, who were emerging from the crypt. We took our places. I felt Oliver take hold of my hand.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said the head judge, an older, debonair man, who reminded me a little of Len Goodman. ‘Thank you to all our choirs for taking part today. My fellow judges and I have had a very difficult time choosing which four London choirs should go through to the Final. However, we have made our decision and I am pleased to announce that the four winning choirs are—’

  I closed my eyes.

  ‘The Dulwich Darlings.’ There was a cheer. I suppose it was too much to hope for. He waited for the noise to die down. ‘The Walthamstow Warblers.’ Another cheer. ‘The Clapham South Singers.’ More jubilation. ‘And last but by no means least …’ My hands felt clammy and my mouth went dry.