Page 34 of The Second Ending
Sorry for the silence. I’ve been under the weather and work is stressful. Coffee when I’m better?
Hopefully that would be enough to let her know he hadn’t forgotten about her, but not so mushy as to sound desperate and therefore, scare her off.
Now he just had to wait, get over this bug, and hope.
It wasn’tuntil the following weekend that they were able to make plans to meet. Marcus had been ill for much of the week, and then had a mountain of work to get through, and Ashleigh was busy with her own cases, as well as learning the music for the choir’s next concert. Some of the selections she had sung before, but others were new and needed some time and attention.
The new suite of folk songs was one of this latter group. It was a lovely piece of music, with carefully selected songsall celebrating spring, and beautifully set for choir by a local composer. Some of the songs were simple, almost hymn-like, while others were quite tricky, with unexpected harmonies and complex rhythmic patterns and staggered entries that didn’t quite come where expected. Learning the music was a challenge, but a welcome one, and Ashleigh set aside ample time to devote to this task.
“You’re singing. That’s good news,” her assistant commented at work on the day after their second rehearsal. “You must be feeling better. You’ve been a bit down in the dumps recently.”
Ashleigh looked up from her paperwork in surprise. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realise. I’ll try to keep quiet.”
Her assistant gave a short chuckle. “No, don’t. It’s pretty. What is that song? I think I’ve heard it before.”
What had she been singing? The music was just there, without conscious thought, as natural as breathing. Ashleigh let her voice do its thing until she recognised the piece.
“It’s one of our choir pieces, ‘Queen of the May’. It’s based on an old Medieval Marian hymn. It’s just full of flowers. Isn’t it lovely?”
She sang the first verse in a slightly stronger voice.
Bring flowers of the fairest
Bring flowers of the rarest
From garden and woodland
And hillside and vale
Our full hearts are swelling
Our Glad voices telling
The praise of the loveliest
Rose of the vale
“You have such a pretty voice,” her assistant sighed. “Well, I’ll leave you to this. I’ll start to prepare those other documents for when you need them.” She left the office, humming the melody a bit out of tune, a smile on her face.
Ashleigh’s voice continued with the song, heedless of where her conscious mind had gone.
She read her briefs, edited a factum, reviewed the latest information on one domestic abuse case that the social worker had sent over, all the while humming and singing. It was almost lunch time when she realised she’d sung not only the tune, but the choral part, and the little ornamented solo passage as well.
It was lovely. The composer had added just enough to the melody to make it shimmer, without burdening it unnecessarily with unwanted ornamentation. A grace note here, a melisma there, a few notes of descant, just the right amount of musical bling. Emma was lucky to be singing it in the concert. The passage did suit Ashleigh’s own voice perfectly, but she had no need for the spotlight, and while she’d enjoy singing it, she was quite happy to let Emma take centre stage for that short passage.
The buzz of her phone interrupted her musings. Probably Liora, although she usually called earlier in the week. Ashleigh picked up the device and glanced at the screen. It wasn’t Liora after all. It was Marcus.
The previous night’s rehearsal and the morning’s humming had put her in a good enough mood to forget how much she’d been hurt by his cool tone of late, and she answered with a smile in her tone.
“Ash, oh, God, it’s good to hear your voice, like rain in a drought.”
She blinked. Wasn’t he upset at her for some reason? She’d assumed… Oh. Perhaps he’d assumed, too.
“Marcus.” She hoped she wasn’t too distant. “I’d all but given up on you. Your messages weren’t encouraging.”
She heard his sigh over the phone, long and drawn out. “Forgive me. Work has been hell. The whole development project is in jeopardy, and I’ve been as sick as a dog. I’mfinishing the antibiotics today. I haven’t said three nice words to anyone for a week.”
“You were sick? Why didn’t you call me?”
