no doubts now that, with some more practice, we will make it work wonderfully. We can stand together and strong and be a force to be reckoned with.’
At the end, Prim mentioned that if anyone would like to try a solo, she should step forward to audition.
‘There are two verses in the arrangement, so two different voices are required. Do we have any takers?’
Kitty was there in a trice. ‘I’ll do it!’
I couldn’t let Kitty have all the glory, so I stepped forward too. ‘I’m sure I can give it a good go.’
Prim waited a few minutes, then raised her voice over the throng. ‘How about you, Mrs Tilling? Don’t you think you have voice enough to share with the world?’
She blushed, picked up her handbag, and came over. ‘Do you really think I could?’
‘Well, that’s up to you,’ Prim said. ‘You certainly have the voice. But do you have the nerve?’
A flush went over Mrs Tilling’s gaunt cheeks.
Prim went over and had a word with Mrs Quail at the organ, then returned to us.
‘We’re going to hear you sing the first verse one at a time.’ Mrs Tilling looked like she might faint, while Kitty simply couldn’t wait.
‘Kitty, why don’t you go first?’ Prim said, and motioned to Mrs Quail to start playing.
Kitty sang like she was on stage in front of several thousand adoring opera-goers. She raised her eyes to the ceiling when hitting those tricky high notes, and even did that awful warbling sound. It was ghastly.
‘Bravo,’ Prim gushed at the end.
And I wondered if she was being tactful until Mrs Tilling joined in. ‘What a beautiful voice you have, Kitty!’
Kitty grinned in an infuriating manner.
I was considering backing out, except Prim quickly decided it was my turn, Mrs Quail already playing the introduction.
I sang as well as I could, stumbling over a few words, and not hitting the top notes quite as well as Kitty. But really, my voice is so much nicer than hers. Much more natural sounding.
At the end, Prim and Mrs Tilling gave a small round of applause and agreed that I had a lovely mellow voice. Kitty looked smugly on, thinking she’d won.
Then it was Mrs Tilling’s turn, and we know that she sings terrifically well, has done since we can remember. Without her the choir would have been in a lot of trouble. She sang perfectly in tune, all the words right, never wavering from her enchanting alto tone.
‘Wonderful, Mrs Tilling,’ Prim said. ‘The perfect voice for one of our solos.’ Then she looked at me, the inevitable coming. ‘And I’m afraid, Venetia, that I’m going to pick Kitty this time. We’ll need some extra work, and I imagine she has a lot more time than you do, with the War Office job.’
‘Yes, you’re completely right,’ I said. ‘I shouldn’t have auditioned really as I don’t have any spare time these days. Maybe next time.’
And with that, seeing Kitty delightedly jumping up and down in the corner of my eye, I got my coat and walked majestically out of the building.
Since then Kitty’s been lording it over me ad nauseam. Silvie and I had to retire to my bedroom to escape. I did her hair up beautifully while she tried on my lipstick. She’s such a sweet creature.
On that note, I must away to get my beauty sleep. I will let you know how my plan to get Mr Slater proceeds. Success will be mine.
Venetia
Saturday, 27th April, 1940
The question of Venetia’s virginity
Why is it that just when you think you know how everything works, something explodes right under your nose and you have to rethink it all through? There was I, merrily going through life thinking that no one did anything except perhaps one or two kisses before they got married, and then, boom! I see the whole act unfold in front of my very eyes.
Things I would dearly like to know
Was Venetia as pure as the driven snow, as we’ve always been taught to be?
Will she have to marry Mr Slater now?
Will this mean she’ll stop playing her evil games with Henry?
Does anyone else do this before they’re married?
Will I have to?
First of all, let me state that as far as I was concerned, before I saw what I did, Venetia was still a virgin. Mama told both of us that one has to stay a virgin until one gets married, and I must say it has never crossed my mind to question this instruction. I’ve seen plenty of copulation before, so don’t think I’m naïve – bulls mounting cows in the fields, that time Mr Dawkins brought his mare over for Amadeus to get her pregnant, and the dogs in the stables are at it all the time. And I know what it leads to – babies. So why was Venetia doing it? She’s not married and, as far as I know, she doesn’t want a baby. It was disgusting.
Then I wondered if she’d done it with anyone else, and a cloud of memories flew into my head like a photograph album of every boy she’s ever toyed with. Now that I came to think about it, she could have done it with any of them: Cecil Worthing, David Tilling, even Victor Lovell or, Heaven forbid, Henry. They’d known each other since they were children, grew up as friends, spent many evenings together at parties, perhaps sneaking out into the night for a quiet kiss that may have led to more. Maybe this was her awful hold over them.
Could Venetia be a harlot?
Angela Quail is most definitely a harlot. I’m sure she did it with Edmund, as they were always touching each other in a most embarrassing way. I think she wanted to be with Henry too, because she always seemed odd around him, all fluttery. I wonder if he rejected her and chose me instead because he likes proper girls and Angela wears her depravity like a badge of honour. I suppose being the Vicar’s daughter has made her more unruly.
But with Venetia, Daddy would hit the roof.
It all started after my singing lesson with Prim this afternoon, which had gone particularly well as she told me that I had perfect pitch. I couldn’t wait to tell Silvie, and since she wasn’t at home, I trotted off to the stables to see if she was there. It was such a delicious day, all buttery and golden, and I felt as if the world made complete sense. The cherry blossom was just past its best, and pink and white petals cascaded over me as I crossed through the orchard – it was wondrous, like it was snowing tiny soft cushions.
As I passed through the whiffy stable yard, I thought
