by Simon Brett
‘But I’m not in the church choir.’
‘That’s a detail. You’ve got a lovely singing voice. I heard you in the Function Room. And I noticed you could read music.’
‘Yes, but that’s different. Bob Hinkley asked me if I’d join the church choir and I had to apprise him of the small but important detail that I don’t have any faith.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Heather breezily. ‘If all the people who have no faith stopped going to church, the congregations would be even smaller than they are already.’
‘Well …’
‘Go on, say you’ll join in. I want Alice and Roddy to have the most perfect wedding it’s possible to have.’
‘Oh, all right,’ Jude conceded. ‘I’ll do it for the wedding, but that’s a one-off. There’s no danger I’m going to become a regular.’
‘That’s fine. But bless you for saying you’ll do the wedding. I’m so excited about it. Alice is such a lovely girl, that I want her wedding to be the best day of her life.’
Jude blinked. Was Heather really talking about the young woman who only a few weeks before had accused her of murder?
EIGHT
It was a week later, the following Monday morning, that Jude had a call from the Rev. Bob Hinkley. ‘I hear that you’re going to be singing at Alice Mallett’s wedding,’ he began, almost brusquely.
‘Yes. Heather asked if I would. As a favour.’
‘Does this mean you might reconsider my request to join the choir on a more permanent basis?’
‘No, I’m afraid it doesn’t. The issue of my not having any faith is still to me a considerable objection.’
‘But if you make an exception for a wedding …’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, well, it was worth asking.’ He sounded really harassed, nearing the end of his tether. ‘It’s just … Bet Harrison … Do you know her, only recently moved to Fethering?’
‘I’ve met her, yes.’
‘Anyway, she didn’t appear for yesterday’s service. I rang her and she said, with childcare problems, the time commitment was getting too great, Friday evenings and the Sundays. She said it was more convenient for her just to do Monday evenings with the choir at the pub.’ He contrived to get a lot of contempt into the last few words.
‘I’m sorry about that, Bob, but hopefully you’ll be able to recruit other people. There must be more undiscovered singers in Fethering. Not me, though, I’m afraid.’
‘Huh,’ he said. Then, almost as if he was speaking to himself, ‘What are people going to think if, so early into the job, I can’t even keep my church choir?’
Needless to say, Carole’s attitude to the Crown & Anchor Choir did not get any less sniffy. ‘Oh, your pub singers are getting together for a second week?’ she said when Jude mentioned it.
‘Yes. The first meeting was very successful. About a dozen people turned up.’
‘About a dozen people turn up to anything new in Fethering. They soon drift away, though.’
‘Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we?’
‘Huh,’ said Carole.
Jude was quite surprised to get a call from Heather to ask if she could turn up to church choir rehearsal on the Friday of the same week. She repeated what she had said to the vicar, that she had only agreed to sing at the wedding and had no intention of becoming a permanent member.
‘I know that, but we will actually be rehearsing some of the wedding stuff on Friday.’
‘Oh, but it’s still weeks away, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but the music we’ve chosen for the wedding is quite complicated. Well, no, not complicated, it’s just that I want it to be of a really high standard, so it’ll need extra rehearsal.’
Jude wasn’t very keen on giving up her Friday evenings as well as the Mondays, but she reasoned that it was only for a relatively short while. Her Fridays would be free again after the wedding, and she did want to give Heather any support she could. So, she agreed to turn up that week. At seven thirty. The church choir would rehearse their normal stuff first, and then do maybe three quarters of an hour on the wedding music.
It became clear in All Saints that Friday evening just how seriously the programme was being taken. Jonny Virgo had risen to the challenge. At last he was dealing with music that was worthy of his talents, and Jude could observe what a good choirmaster he must have been for organizing school concerts and other choral music events.
He started with what he regarded as the most difficult piece on the programme, the anthem which would be sung by the choir alone during the signing of the register. This was Schubert’s ‘Ave Maria’. Heather produced the scores for it. As she had for the Crown & Anchor Choir, she had been busy photocopying and fitting the sheets into black plastic folders, which were distributed to the choir members.
‘Now, this is a very well-known piece,’ said Jonny, ‘which I’m sure you will have heard often, at many other weddings. But I doubt if you’ve ever heard it very well sung. It’s notoriously difficult for amateurs. Don’t worry, though, we’re going to work on it so hard that, come the wedding day, we’ll have you sounding like professionals!
‘All right, so let’s have a go at it. Those of you who can read music, follow the dots. Those of you who can’t, don’t worry. And if any of you are a bit iffy about when to come in, I will give a very firm nod of my head at the relevant moment. OK, so off we go!’
Jonny Virgo’s hands descended on to the organ’s keyboard and rolling chords swelled up into the empty heights of All Saints Church. As arranged, Jude had joined the rest of the choir at seven thirty. Most of the regulars were there, though two notable absentees were Bet Harrison and her son Rory. The choir didn’t rehearse in their stalls but gathered round Jonny at the organ.
His words about ‘sounding like professionals’ seemed to have had the opposite effect to what he had intended. Rather than encouraging his singers to greater efforts, the diktat had made them nervous. Heather, who sang the soprano solo part, had done some homework, but she didn’t get much support from the rest of the choir, and their first rendition of the piece was pretty dreadful.
‘Hm, some way to go,’ the choirmaster understated, after his charges had brought the anthem to a rather ragged conclusion.
The singers looked appropriately abashed. The Tattersall sisters, in particular, who had been very quavery during the singing, now looked to be on the verge of tears. Only Ruskin Dewitt wore his customary expression of confident serenity.
‘Still, early days.’ Jonny Virgo got up from his organ bench and came towards the choir in the manner of someone with something portentous to say. ‘Look, the wedding that we’re rehearsing for is only a few weeks away. And, Heather, you want the music to be of the highest standard possible …?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she asserted.
‘Well …’ He took a deep breath. ‘If we’re aiming for the highest standard possible … then I’m afraid there’s no way you can sing the solo.’
Heather’s silence, and the expression on her face, showed the power of the body blow she had just received. Jude wondered how long the fantasy had been nursed of taking that role at her stepdaughter’s wedding.
Jonny instantly covered himself with apology. Confrontation did not come naturally, and he had clearly built himself up for the assessment he had just delivered. ‘I’m sorry, Heather, but I have your own interests at heart. If you want the best music, you’ve got to get the best singers available. And, though you’re a good workmanlike amateur soprano, I’m afraid that solo has to be sung with more expertise.’
He stopped, the anguished expression on his face suggesting he feared her response might be physical violence.
But Heather was far too well brought-up to do anything like that. And also, she proved to be a pragmatist. ‘I see,’ she said, after a pause. ‘Well, you’re the choirmaster. You know what your requirements are.’
‘Yes.’ As if empowered by the tameness of her reaction, he went on, ‘I
n the usual Sunday-to-Sunday work of the choir, I’m happy to make the best of what’s available, but if you’re really after quality …’
‘Which I am,’ Heather asserted.
‘… then I’m afraid I have to take a more hard-nosed approach. In most of the choirs I’ve worked with, entry has been by audition, which does provide some kind of quality control. Obviously, you can’t do that in a parish church.’ The way he spoke suggested that he was unleashing a flow of grievances which he had been nursing for some time. ‘There you have to be glad for what you can get.’
He seemed to realize that this was potentially insulting and hastened to say, ‘Not that I’m criticizing your efforts. I am very grateful to all of you for your commitment and the time you devote to the choir. Your efforts add considerably to the success of Sunday services at All Saints. But …’ He trod delicately ‘… if one is really looking for the best … as we are in this situation, Heather … then we have either to raise the standard of the voices we use or …’
‘Or what?’ asked Heather tightly.
‘Or we have to content ourselves with an easier repertoire.’
‘Not do the “Ave Maria”, you mean?’
‘Exactly that. There are less challenging pieces which—’
‘I don’t want a less challenging piece for Alice’s wedding,’ came the firm response. ‘I’ve been determined since she and Roddy announced their engagement that they should have the Schubert “Ave Maria” during the signing of the register.’
‘If that’s how you feel, you have to make a choice. You can either have it not done very well or …’ Jonny Virgo shrugged.
‘Of course,’ said Elizabeth Browning, ‘there was a time when I could have taken the solo, no problem. But, since the nodules …’
‘What if we got in a professional singer for the solo?’ Heather suggested suddenly.
‘Well …’ Jonny hadn’t been expecting that, and clearly the idea was not without its appeal. ‘Obviously, if you were to go down that route, you’d have to be prepared to pay for—’
‘I’m prepared to pay.’
‘But where do you start looking for a professional soprano?’ asked Ruskin Dewitt, who felt he had been left out of the conversation for too long.
‘Of course, back in my Glyndebourne days, I had a wealth of contacts in the—’
‘That’s not a problem,’ Jonny interrupted. ‘I’ve still got a lot of friends in the professional ranks. And, anyway, the soloist doesn’t have to be a soprano. I’ve heard the part done very effectively by a tenor.’
‘Ooh,’ said Heather, with sudden excitement. ‘Maybe we could get Blake Woodruff?’
Jonny Virgo looked thunderstruck by the suggestion. Presumably because Heather was setting her sights rather high. Even Jude, who didn’t know a lot about the classical music world, had heard of Blake Woodruff. He had first come to prominence as a boy chorister, when he sang the theme tune for a very successful television series. His recording had become a chart-topping single, and the image of the beautiful, ten-year-old blond boy had been inescapable that Christmas.
Unlike many such infant phenomena, Blake Woodruff had continued to have a career as an adult. His boyhood treble had developed into a fine classical tenor. He was one of those few singers who had crossed over from the concert and operatic repertoire into the mainstream. He produced albums reinterpreting standards from musical theatre, and even made further impressions on the pop charts. He was in constant demand and spent his life jetting to concert venues all over the world.
‘You’re never going to get him, are you?’ Russ expressed the views of the rest of the choir.
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Heather. ‘I … that is to say, Alice actually knows him.’
‘Does she?’
‘Yes, they worked together on some big charity fundraiser. I can’t remember what it was in aid of, but she was with a few fellow actors doing some readings, and apparently she and Blake got on rather well.’
‘Well …’ Jonny smiled in a way that wasn’t quite condescending. ‘I’m all in favour of aiming for the top, Heather, but I’m not sure that you could afford the kind of fees someone like—’
‘I probably could,’ she interrupted. ‘Whatever his faults, Leonard did leave me very well-heeled.’
This was the first time Jude had ever heard the widow voice any criticism of her late husband. From the expressions on the faces of the rest of the choir, it was a first for them too.
‘Anyway,’ Heather went on, ‘couldn’t you call in a favour, Jonny? Use the old school tie connection?’
The choirmaster looked shocked. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I’d heard – that is, Alice said Blake told her that he’d been taught by you, back when he was a chorister.’
‘Then I’m afraid she got the wrong end of the stick,’ said Jonny sharply. ‘I’ve never met Blake Woodruff. Goodness, music teachers are always going on about their pupils who have made it. If I could claim someone of his stature as one of my pupils, I’d be talking about him all the time.’
Heather looked confused. ‘But I thought … I mean, I know that …’ She changed her mind about what she was going to say, and went on, ‘Maybe Alice did get it wrong. But, because she knows him, she could ask, couldn’t she?’
‘As I say, Heather, I think you’re aiming rather stratospherically high in terms of finding someone. I know a couple of perfectly good tenors, who would do the job for you at a price that wouldn’t involve a second mortgage.’
Jude reckoned that was probably an inappropriate image. If there was one thing someone like Leonard Mallett, spending a lifetime in insurance, would have done, it was to pay off his mortgage as soon as possible.
But Heather wasn’t troubled by metaphors. She said, ‘Surely it wouldn’t do any harm for me – for Alice to ask him …?’
‘No!’ said Jonny Virgo with surprising firmness. ‘Please believe that I know more about this world than you do. If you want me to find a tenor for you to sing the “Ave Maria” solo at Alice’s wedding, I will find one for you.’
‘Very well,’ said Heather meekly. ‘If you could, Jonny …’
Again, he seemed empowered by having won that little argument. ‘There’s one other thing I need to say about the composition of the choir for the wedding.’
They were all silent, as they waited for what he needed to say.
‘Russ … I’m afraid you can’t do it.’
‘What?’ The bearded man looked genuinely confused.
‘You can’t be in the choir for the wedding.’
All he could come up with was another ‘What?’
‘Russ, I’ve tolerated listening to you for years at school assemblies and in the church choir, but I’m afraid I can’t have you in the choir for the wedding.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘Because you sing far too loudly …’
‘Well, I’ve always been stronger in the horsepower department than the steering, but I’m not—’
‘What’s more, you can’t hold a tune. You are always flat.’
There was a silence in All Saints. The Tattersall sisters looked nervously at each other. Jude got the impression that the whole choir recognized the truth of Jonny’s words. They’d known for years that Ruskin Dewitt could not sing. But nobody had ever before stated it out loud.
‘That’s ridiculous, Jonny!’ he blustered. ‘Look, I know you’ve always been jealous, since when we were both teaching at Ravenhall, because I had a more natural rapport with the pupils than you ever did, but this is—’
‘I’m sorry, Russ,’ said the choirmaster, ‘but you cannot sing at Alice Mallett’s wedding!’
‘What bloody right do you think you have to say that?’ He turned to the stepmother of the bride. ‘Heather, look, we’ve been in this choir together for years. We’ve always got on, and we’ve been involved in some damned fine performances – weddings, funerals, carol concerts, the lot. No one
’s ever complained before about me not being able to hold a tune. Go on, you want me to sing at Alice’s wedding, don’t you?’
There was a silence before Heather Mallett articulated the words, ‘No, Russ. I don’t.’
The bearded man slammed his plastic folder down on to the paving of the aisle and stalked out of the church.
NINE
‘So, this soloist Jonny Virgo’s set up,’ asked Carole, ‘does he start coming to rehearsals straight away?’ Although she claimed to have no interest in Alice Mallett’s wedding, she could not completely curb her curiosity.
‘No. He’ll just come to the final rehearsal, the day before the ceremony.’
‘Huh,’ said Carole. ‘So, till then, do you rehearse just the background stuff?’
‘“Just the background stuff”? What do you mean?’ asked Jude.
‘Well, the oohing and aahing in the background that goes on while the soloist sings.’
Jude sighed. Carole was not as totally ignorant about music as she was pretending to be. But it was entirely in character for her to behave like that when venturing into any territory where she felt insecure. Jude was of the opinion that her neighbour could actually sing, if she hadn’t devoted so much emotional effort to convincing herself that she couldn’t. But she was far too sensible ever to raise the issue.
‘And do you think Alice Mallett really knows Blake Woodruff?’ asked Carole. Jude was quite surprised she didn’t claim ignorance of the famous tenor as well as everything else that appertained to music.
‘I don’t see why not. Alice is an actress.’
‘Not a very good actress.’
‘We don’t know that.’
‘Well, from all accounts she doesn’t get much work.’
‘No.’ Jude did find her neighbour very tiring when she was in this contrarian mood. ‘And Heather said they met at a charity function. Sounds quite plausible to me.’
‘Yes. Maybe.’ A silence. They sipped their coffee.
‘You said you thought Heather might have known Blake Woodruff too …?’
‘Sort of impression I got. But you’d have thought, if she actually did, she’d have made more of it.’