Page 11 of Play Our Song

“Good,” Ava grinned. “Then let’s start the introductions.”

“Introductions?” Tilly realized that they were in the warmth of the village hall and began to take her jacket off. She looked around and saw stacks of chairs, a small stage, an upright piano, and a group of people.

“It’s overwhelming at first, but you’ll get used to it quickly,” Ava said. “That’s my wife over there, Hope.” She waved at a woman with a ponytail that Tilly recognized. “And there’s Sylv from the shop. Oh, and that’s Billy over there by the piano.”

Tilly looked over and felt her stomach do a flip. Billy was tall and curvaceous with long, dark wavy hair and intense dark eyes. She was undeniably attractive, even if she wasn’t quite Tilly’s type.

“Billy’s married,” Ava said, as though she was reading Tilly’s mind.

“I know,” said Tilly. “Ag told me.”

“Ah, so you’ve met our prodigy,” Ava said with a chuckle. “She’s quite something, isn’t she? What’s the most inappropriate question she’s asked so far?”

Tilly rolled her eyes. “This morning over breakfast she asked me if I’ve ever killed a man.”

“And have you?” Ava asked.

“Not yet,” Tilly said, finally starting to smile.

“She once asked me if I’d ever thought about eating human flesh,” Ava said. “She’s quite the handful. Mind you, my daughter Alice was just as bad at her age, if not worse.”

“I’m not really sure that children are my thing,” Tilly confessed.

“Neither was I.” Ava laughed. “And now look at me. And look who we have here, who’d have thought that singing was so popular.”

Tilly turned to see who had just walked in and collided with someone so hard that for a second, she saw stars. A book fell tothe floor. She automatically bent to pick it up at the same time as the person she’d bumped into did, and their hands brushed, and for a second all Tilly could do was look at the pale, soft hands next to hers.

Then she looked up and her heart tumbled in her chest and her mouth went dry and deep dark eyes looked into hers and for a moment she couldn’t even think.

???

“I don’t know about this,” Sophie said.

“Just drink up your pint and let’s go,” said Jules. “And here, this is the book you wanted.”

Sophie took the battered paperback and looked at the cover with glee. It showed a man’s hand on a woman’s bottom and promised to be a ‘rip-roaring rude bonkbuster.’ “You know, I can’t help myself when it comes to these. I can’t get enough of them.”

“I know what you mean,” said Jules with a grin. “I’m the same. They’re quite addictive, aren’t they?”

“At least it’ll give me something to look forward to tonight.”

Jules disappeared for a second, then came back around the bar carrying her jacket. “Stop being such a sad sack.”

“What if I can’t sing? What if I open my mouth and all that comes out is a frog croak or something?”

“Impossible,” Jules said, taking her arm and pulling her off her barstool. “Apart from anything else, I know you did singing in school because we all did. It’ll be just like that except we’re grownups. It’s going to be fun.”

“Where are you off to, then?” Both women turned around to see Stu, one half of Stu-and-Del and Gio’s friend, leaning on the bar.

“What’s it to you?” asked Jules.

“Nothin’,” Stu said, looking kind of hurt. “Just keepin’ an eye on Soph, that’s all.”

“Choir,” Sophie said primly. “Do you want to come? You’re very welcome. Billy Brooke’s set it up. It should be a good night out. ‘Course, there’s no beer, but I should think there’ll be hymns and probably some tea in the interval.”

Stu had paled more and more as she spoke, and he was now firmly shaking his head. “Nah, I’m right, thanks. You’ll be up at the village hall then?”

“Safe and sound,” Sophie said with a sigh. “No need to worry.”

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