here and settled by then.’
‘And how is Ona?’ Lily enquired.
Janice pulled a worried face at the mention of her heavily pregnant daughter-in-law. ‘Getting frustrated by the placenta being badly positioned, so there’s a high risk of bleeding. She’s doing very little and they’re keeping a close eye on her but they’ve warned her they might have to induce. We’ll all be glad when the baby’s safely here.’
‘We getting a Kissmuss baby,’ Keir informed Lily happily. ‘A new one.’
Lily smothered a laugh. ‘That’s something to look forward to. I’m coming to Schützenberg to see you in a few weeks.’
Dugal’s little eyes flashed with interest. ‘Will you bring us presents?’
‘Dugal Gasly!’ Janice broke in. ‘People are more important than presents. We’re looking forward to seeing Lily and Carola and all of the singing group, aren’t we?’
Dugal nodded, but still looked as if he’d like to know about the presents.
After Lily had replied to a few more questions about how things were going at the pub and how she was finding Isaac – ‘Efficient and pleasant,’ she assured them – the call ended.
Almost immediately, Lily’s phone alerted her to a text from Carola that proved she wasn’t letting Owen distract her from the schedule. Fancy coming up for a sarnie before choir practice?
Very much! Will bring biccies, Lily sent back. After finishing her task and emailing Max as promised, she climbed the stairs to Carola’s kitchen where Owen was pulling on his coat and dropping a kiss on Carola’s blonde bob. Lily just had time to say, ‘Bye!’ before he disappeared out of the door.
Carola was a bit pink after the kiss. ‘Owen’s going to visit his mum. She’s not too well and he says she gets crotchety with visitors.’
‘Doesn’t sound like you’re missing much then,’ Lily joked, giving the older woman a hug. ‘Are you and Owen getting serious? He’s not going to stop you coming to Switzerland is he?’
Despite the obvious stars in her eyes Carola made a mock scream face. ‘Of course not. He’s not going to stop me doing anything – I had enough of that with Duncan.’
Lily dropped down beside Carola at the white glass kitchen table. ‘Extremely sensible. Shall we finalise the programme today so we can send it to the Performing Rights Society and fork over the fee for singing other people’s songs?’
Over tuna sandwiches and custard creams they ummed and ahhed about the respective merits of Cliff Richard’s ‘Mistletoe and Wine’ versus Paul McCartney’s ‘Wonderful Christmastime’, Slade’s ‘Merry Xmas Everybody’ or Wizzard’s ‘I Wish it Could be Christmas Everyday’. Carola wrote down ‘Walking in the Air’ from The Snowman and Lily crossed it out again. ‘That puts a lot of emphasis on the sopranos – us! You might be strong enough but I’m not sure I am.’
Carola nicked back the pen and wrote it in again. ‘Of course you’re strong enough! We don’t have to sing like choirboys to carry it off and we’re spoilt for sopranos anyway because we have Charlotte and Emily. I wish we had another bass to sing along with Neil, personally.’ She tapped the pen on her teeth.
Privately, Lily thought that Charlotte and Emily’s voices were pretty but not strong. Knowing Carola wouldn’t appreciate that view she just said, ‘The sponsorship budget was based on how many singers we could get into one minibus so people can’t expect the balance of a proper choir. Now, which carols are we going to include? The trouble with carols is that they’re so international they won’t give the British flavour Max is keen on. On the other hand, if we sing “Silent Night” then people might join in, which is always lovely,’ Lily pointed out. ‘Also, it’s easy so we’re good at it. It would have been nice to include that Polish carol Franciszka tried to teach us, as we have so many people of Polish descent in our region, but we had trouble even with the title, “Anioł Pasterzom Mówił”, let alone the rest of the words.’
Carola laughed. ‘Let’s stick to easy stuff. Have you heard how Tubb is, by the way?’
Lily was happy to update her and then the rest of the afternoon passed in a flash. Once the first Middletones arrived – Warwick, Eddie and Alfie – filled with all the noisy ebullience of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds, Charlotte and Emily emerged from their rooms. The boys were all music student chums of Charlotte from the local performing arts college, Acting Instrumental. Eddie tuned his guitar. Warwick set his keyboard on its stand and plugged it in while Emily, only fourteen so still at school, chattered to him, beaming and giggling.
‘I’m going to have to watch Emily,’ Carola muttered. ‘She’s developing a crush on Warwick and a lad of eighteen is much too old for her.’
Neil – Eddie’s dad, turning up at the same time as Franciszka, who lived in Drake’s Close around the corner from Carola’s on the Bankside estate – gave her a reassuring grin. ‘I think Warwick’s got a girlfriend at college anyway.’
Soon they were ready to begin. ‘Let’s crash on with the carols,’ Lily suggested. ‘They’re a good warm-up and have lots of lovely harmonies.’ Lily and Carola arranged the songs between them, usually based on what the Middletones could sing best.
Eddie slung his guitar around his neck and Warwick perched on his stool in front of the silver keyboard. Carola took her place facing the group as a sort of unofficial leader. ‘We’ll begin with “Once in Royal David’s City”.’ She counted Warwick and Eddie in then the voices soared in to join them. Next came ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’ and ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ before they began on the Christmas pop songs.
Later, when they took a break to sip water and refuel on shortbread, they talked over what they’d wear to sing on their Swiss trip and decided on red bobble hats and scarves with black overshirts. Carola noted sizes and agreed to do the ordering, reflecting that it was as well that BCF was covering the expense.
In the second part of the afternoon they worked on ‘Walking in the Air’ – which even Lily had to agree was coming along nicely – and the flirty, dashing ‘Let it Snow’ to open a set. By the end of the afternoon they’d also settled most of the programme for the trade fair – a set of ten songs rounded off with a rousing rendition of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ – and knew how they’d expand the set for the Christmas market, which would be less formal and possibly lubricated by glühwein and eierkirsch – mulled wine or eggnog.
‘Right,’ Lily said as Franciszka hurried off because she’d promised to give her daughter a lift into Bettsbrough. ‘That was brilliant, thank you everyone. Hands up who’s looking forward to travelling to Switzerland!’ She laughed to see a forest of hands – two from each of the teenagers.
‘I still feel bad I can’t share the driving as I first promised,’ Neil admitted sheepishly. ‘My punishment’s affecting a lot more than just me.’ He hung his head.
Eddie pulled a face as he slid his guitar back into its gig bag. ‘Yeah, Dad’s Taxi is rubbish since you lost your licence.’ But he clapped his father on the shoulder sympathetically. Neil had had a heavy evening at a hotel with fellow sales reps at a ‘company jolly’ and the police had lain in wait with their breathalysers in the morning. Seven out of ten reps had retained sufficient alcohol in their blood to blow positive and one of them was Neil, who’d avoided unemployment
