Annie Lyons - The Choir on Hope Street - A gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy to make your heart sing!

It felt strange at first to be singing in public, even though we were just going, ‘La, la, la.’ Apart from belting out tunes in the car and shower, I’d never sang and certainly never in public. I got the feeling that I wasn’t alone. I glanced around the room. Pamela was frowning with concentration, whilst Jim was singing with an impressive tenor voice.

Guy played the next chord up. ‘Now try this one.’ We did as we were told. ‘Good! And now hum this one,’ he instructed, playing the next chord.

‘Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmmmmm.’

‘Excellent! Let’s see how high we can go. And!’

We hummed and la-ed our way through each new set of notes. I could hear Caroline’s voice getting louder with each arpeggio. We laughed as the notes became too high for us and one by one we stopped singing. Soon, only Caroline and Doly were still going. Guy fixed his gaze on them and grinned with encouragement. ‘Last chord,’ he declared. ‘You sing first, Caroline, and then would you like to try—’

‘Doly,’ whispered Doly, her neck flushed red with embarrassment. ‘Okay.’

Guy played the chord and Caroline sang the notes with pitch-perfect trembliness as if giving an opening-night performance at the Royal Opera House. Guy smiled as Caroline’s friends clapped noisily. He turned to Doly. She gave a small nod and he played it again. Her voice was completely different to Caroline’s. Soft and gentle and completely sublime. There was a pause after she finished. Guy stared at her for a moment as if he’d forgotten where he was before clapping his hands. ‘Thank you, ladies. That was very revealing. So, it’s clear that we can all sing the notes. Now let’s see if we can sing the songs.’

I squeezed Doly’s elbow. ‘Your voice is amazing,’ I whispered. She gave me a shy smile.

I watched Guy as he handed out sheets of song lyrics. He couldn’t have been more than thirty and yet he was completely confident in his abilities. He was tall and neatly dressed; a man who obviously took care of his appearance. I wouldn’t exactly call him handsome but there was something about the way he carried himself – assured and in charge – that was disarming. I noticed Pamela gazing up at him, wide-eyed and trusting, obviously already smitten. He had the room in the palm of his hand.

‘So let’s try “California Dreamin’”, shall we?’ suggested Guy. ‘A relatively straightforward one to get us started.’ He pressed Play on the backing track, raised his hands and we were off. I could remember singing this song as a teenager and loved its sixties folk feel. I felt my body lift as we began to sing. There were a few bum notes but actually, it sounded pretty good.

‘Not bad for a first go,’ said Guy. ‘Now, let’s up the ante and try it again with the lows taking the opening line and the highs replying, shall we?’ He re-started the backing track.

‘Well done,’ smiled Guy when we finished. ‘I see a bright future ahead of us. And as we’re on something of a roll, let’s try the next song. It’s a bit trickier but I think we can do it.’

My heart sank as I turned to the next song-sheet. ‘Something Inside So Strong’ had always been a favourite of mine and Dan’s. Whenever this song came on the radio, we would duet in a hammy, fist-pulling rendition, which often left us helpless with laughter.

‘Oh, I love this song,’ murmured Caroline from the row behind. ‘So powerful.’

‘Okay,’ said Guy. ‘Let’s give this a go, shall we? A straight sing-through and we’ll worry about harmonies later.’ He pressed Play. As the intro filtered through the speakers and we joined in with Labi Siffre’s unmistakeable voice, I could feel my body start to tremble.

Get a grip, Natalie, it’s just a song. But I couldn’t help it. I tried to brush away the tears and power-ballad my way through but it was no use. There was something inside but it wasn’t very strong and seemed to consist mostly of tears and mucus. I turned away so that Doly wouldn’t notice and spotted Caroline behind me. She was lost in the song, her eyes closed, possibly performing to one hundred thousand people at Wembley. I decided to cling on to my last shred of dignity and take my sobbing outside.

It was starting to get dark, the sky glowing pink and orange. I tried to feel cheered by its beauty but it only made me more depressed. I wanted rain, thunder and if possible a little snow to mirror my own cold misery. I fished into my pocket for a tissue and pulled out an old shopping list. It included items for a Thai curry, which I had made for Dan as a Friday-night treat a few weeks back. Inevitably, this brought fresh tears and irritation at the shambolic woman I had become. I considered making a run for it. No-one would miss me and I could make my excuses another time. I started to head towards the street.

‘Natalie!’ called a voice, which I immediately recognised as Caroline’s. Bugger. Maybe I could pretend I hadn’t heard and keep going.

‘Natalie!’ she repeated with increased volume. That’ll be a no then.

I turned to face her, hoping that my eyes weren’t as red and puffy as they felt. ‘Oh, hi, Caroline,’ I said, pretending that I’d only just noticed her.

‘You’re not going are you? We’re only halfway through.’ Either she’d been too caught up in powering through the song to notice my outburst or she had chosen to ignore it. Or possibly a little of both.

‘I just—’ I began. I just what? I just need to run home to a man who doesn’t love me any more and won’t tell me why? I took a deep breath. ‘I’m just not sure if it’s for me.’

‘Is it the choice of songs?’ she asked, moving closer. ‘Because if it is, I know exactly how you feel. I used to sing in choir at university – it was all classical – Verdi, Brahms – wonderful,’ she smiled, dewy-eyed at the memory.

‘No, it’s not that—’

‘Oh, but you must stay. You’re going to be such a valuable addition to the team with your profile and assets.’ Praise indeed. I sound like a Page Three model. ‘And I know how much you care about the hall, what it meant to you.’ She stared at me. Damn her. She knew which buttons to press. I am a nostalgia queen at the best of times but at this moment, I was clinging onto anything that reminded me of my happier past life.

Caroline’s phone buzzed with a call. She fished it from her bag and frowned as she saw the caller ID, pressing a button to silence it. ‘Please stay,’ she implored. Her phone rang again.

‘Someone is keen to talk to you,’ I observed. That’s it. Distract the bossy lady and then make your escape!

She sighed. ‘And someone needs to just get on with their job and stop bothering me,’ she said, switching off her phone. ‘So is the lovely Ed looking after your son this evening?’

‘Er, no, actually. Dan is with him.’

‘Oh, well, that’s good news, isn’t it?’

I guess our definitions of ‘good’ differ somewhat, I thought as I scuffed one shoe across the ground. ‘I’m glad he’s spending time with Woody,’ I replied.

Caroline regarded me for a second. ‘May I speak frankly, Natalie?’

I’d really rather you didn’t but I fear you’re going to, whatever I say. We all know that offering to speak frankly comes second only to ‘Don’t take this the wrong way’ and ‘With the greatest respect’. It is merely code for ‘I am about to insult you and validate that insult by asking your permission first’.

Still, I was at a low ebb and starting to get desperate. ‘Go ahead,’ I replied, bracing myself.

She looked me in the eye. ‘You seem like a good person and an attractive woman too.’ Wait for it. Wait for it. ‘But from what I’ve seen, you’ve let things slide.’ A killer glance at my hair. ‘It’s important for a woman to keep her husband’s interest.’ I winced with feminist indignation. ‘I mean, take Oliver and me, for instance.’ Oh, please, I wish someone would. ‘I know how to keep him engaged in our relationship and it’s not just to do with sex, although of course that’s important.’ Yeah, just a warning, Caroline . If you start giving me details of your week-long tantric love-making sessions, I will vomit. ‘Whenever I feel that we’ve lost track of our relationship, I’ll make a grand gesture, do something special, just to keep things fresh and interesting.’ She made it sound like a trip to the supermarket. ‘For instance, last year I booked a sky-dive because it’s something we’ve always wanted to do together.’