The Choir on Hope Street: A gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy to make your heart sing!. Annie Lyons
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when my daughter was little and she couldn’t sleep, I’d sing her a lullaby. Would you like me to do that?’
Matilda looked up at her and nodded shyly. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘If you’re sure, but no more nonsense, young lady.’
Matilda pursed her lips. ‘Why don’t you give Mummy a kiss before you go up?’ suggested Pamela.
I held my breath and felt my heart sink as Matilda turned on her heels and headed for the stairs. ‘I’ve already kissed her goodnight,’ she replied without looking back.
I glanced at the other mothers in the room. ‘Children, eh?’ I cried, laughing off my hurt and embarrassment. My phone rang again. It was the same number as before. I seized the handset and turned it off just as I heard the doorbell ring. ‘Please, help yourself to more nibbles and wine,’ I said to everyone before heading down the hall.
I opened the door and was surprised to find a man of around thirty, clean-shaven and smartly dressed, smiling at me. He seemed familiar somehow.
‘Hello,’ he said, ‘I hear you’re in need of a choirmaster. I’m Guy Henderson. I’m the new music teacher at Felmingham Primary. Phil just called me.’
‘Goodness!’ I exclaimed. ‘That was quick. Come in.’ I led him down the hall to the kitchen. He nodded to the group and smiled at Phil as he entered the room.
‘Everyone,’ I said. ‘This is Guy Henderson and he’s the new choirmaster of Hope Street Community Choir.’ There was a small cheer.
I noticed Natalie nudge Doly and whisper, ‘I’m definitely going to choir now.’
‘Lovely to meet you all. I’ve only just moved back to the area but I’d be delighted to help your cause. I’ve always wanted to set up a community choir,’ said Guy, smiling.
‘Excellent,’ I said. ‘That’s wonderful – thank you. Why don’t we hold our first rehearsal next Thursday – Pamela, would you be able to book the hall please? It seems like a fitting venue.’
Pamela nodded. ‘Course, ducks – can’t wait to get singing!’
‘Fantastic – thanks so much. May I suggest that we all try to get as many people as possible to sign up?’ Everyone murmured agreement. I reached for my glass. ‘I would like to propose a toast. To the Hope Street Community Choir!’
‘The Hope Street Community Choir!’ we chorused.
‘I’ll drink to that!’ cried Natalie, raising her glass with some gusto and almost falling onto Guy. ‘Oops, sorry,’ she said, giggling. ‘Maybe I should have a glass of water.’
Or maybe you should lay off the free booze, I thought as I followed her over to the sink. ‘Let me get that for you,’ I insisted, fetching one of Matilda’s plastic beakers from the cupboard and filling it with water. I was not about to risk my Dartington Highballs. They were a wedding present.
Natalie accepted the cup with a lop-sided grin. ‘I bet you think I’m a complete mess, don’t you?’
Not far off. I pursed my lips into a thin smile, thinking it might be best if I didn’t answer.
‘Well, you would be right, Caroline,’ she slurred, gesturing towards me with her cup and slopping water onto the floor in the process. ‘Whoops. Sorreee,’ she cried.
Unbelievable. It was like having another child in the house. ‘It’s fine. I’ll get it,’ I said, reaching for the kitchen towel.
‘No, no, no, let me,’ she offered, lurching forwards and wresting it from my grasp. ‘My mess. I’ll clear it up.’ She knelt down and made a half-hearted attempt to wipe up the spillage. She remained kneeling on the floor for a moment, gazing up at me like a child hoping for a biscuit. ‘So anyway, guess what I did last week. Go on, have a guess.’
‘Erm, you wrote another book?’ I offered, glancing around the room in embarrassment, willing her to stand up.
‘Haha! Very good. No. Last week, I thought my estranged husband was dying.’
I stared down at her. ‘Oh, my goodness. How terrible.’
Natalie gave a drunken nod. ‘Yes. Very terrible. And so I followed him to hospital, to offer my support and be there ’til death us do part and all that.’
‘Well, that was very good of you.’ I could see Phil looking over, a frown of concern on his face. I gave him a reassuring smile.
‘I know,’ slurred Natalie, staring down at the balled-up paper towel in her hand. ‘I am basically a saint. So I turn up at the hospital ready to do my weeping wifey bit and guess what he was there for?’
‘I have no idea.’
Natalie held my gaze as she delivered the punchline. ‘A hernia.’
‘A hernia?’
She nodded gravely before her face dissolved into hysterical laughter. ‘A bloody hernia! I thought he was dying and he’s just got a hernia.’ She hugged herself, rocking back and forth as she laughed. Pamela and Jim smiled over at us, wanting to share the joke. I felt a rising sense of panic. I have to get this crumbling wreck of a woman on her feet and out of my house. Fast.
‘How about you drink some more of that water before you head home?’ I suggested with a breezy smile, trying to help Natalie to her feet. She was surprisingly heavy.
She staggered to a standing position and patted me on the chest. ‘Thank you, Caroline. You’re a pal,’ she declared, patting my shoulder, her breath ripe with booze.
I took a step back. I wanted to extricate myself as quickly as possible. Fortunately, Guy had made his way over and was smiling at us both. ‘Caroline, I’m going to shoot off but I just wanted to say that I’ll see you next week and here’s my number,’ he said, handing me a card.
Natalie raised her water glass drunkenly at him. ‘Looking forward to it, Gareth Malone,’ she giggled. He grinned.
‘I’ll show you to the door,’ I said with relief, hoping that Natalie would take the hint and follow Guy’s lead soon. ‘So, you used to live round here?’ I asked as I led him down the hall.
‘Yes, I grew up a few miles away.’
‘We might know some of the same people. My maiden name was Winter – Caroline Winter.’
Guy froze as if he’d remembered something before turning to me and shaking his head. ‘No, sorry. I don’t think we’ve met before.’
‘Funny,’ I said. ‘You look so familiar.’
‘Yes, I get that sometimes – people are always saying that I remind them of someone. I have an everyman kind of face. Anyway, I must go. Good to meet you, Caroline. See you next week.’
‘Thanks Guy. Bye!’
When Oliver came home later that evening, I was buzzing with excitement. He had bought me an enormous bouquet of creamy white roses and was slightly drunk but full of smiles and apologies for being late.
I kissed him on the lips. I was too euphoric to be cross any more. ‘That’s a lovely welcome home,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure I deserve it though,’ he murmured as he started to kiss my neck and run his hands over my body. ‘How was the meeting?’
‘It was great,’ I replied, moaning with delight at his kisses and wandering hands.
‘That’s good, that’s really good,’ he replied, as I reached my hand down the front of his trousers and felt him stiffen at my touch. I still had the power, you see. We still desired one another and that meant the world to me. For all his working late and my stay-at-home status, we still had the connection from when we were young and carefree. We still found each other attractive, we still wanted each other but it was more than just desire.
We remembered