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

‘Oh, that’s really sad,’ I said, feeling my eyes mist at the memory and then hating myself for being so bloody emotional at the moment.

‘I’m glad you feel like that,’ said Caroline, thrusting a flyer into my hand. ‘Save Hope Street Community Hall’ was printed on it in large red letters with details of a forthcoming meeting, which I noted with increasing dread was due to be held at Caroline’s house later that week. I avoided her gaze by staring down at the flyer. ‘So you’ll come? I’m going to leaflet this street and the surrounding ones today. I think we’ll get a huge response.’

I swallowed, ready to make my excuses. Single parenthood wasn’t a status I wanted but it was a trump card today. ‘Oh, I don’t think I can make it. There’s no-one to look after Woody,’ I explained.

‘Won’t your husband be home?’ she asked.

‘Not any more,’ remarked Ed, appearing behind us.

I glared at him. To his credit, he recoiled in horror, mouthing ‘Sorry’ to me.

Caroline’s eyebrows were raised and I realised that I would need to explain before she cranked up the rumour-mill in the school playground. I sighed. ‘My husband and I are having a few problems,’ I said, feeling annoyed that despite my writer’s credentials, this was the best I could come up with.

‘Oh. Oh dear,’ she said in a way that sounded to my ears like, You’ve clearly failed. I’m pretending not to judge you, whilst judging you. ‘Well, I do hope you manage to sort it out and persuade him to come home. I don’t know what I’d do if Oliver ever left. Not that he would, of course.’

‘You can never be too sure,’ I retorted.

‘I know my husband,’ said Caroline with a thin smile.

‘I thought I knew mine too,’ I replied with narrowed eyes.

‘Anyway, ladies!’ cried Ed, detecting the start of a bitch-fight. ‘I love the sound of your campaign, Caroline, so I’m more than happy to baby-sit for you, Nat.’

‘Thank you,’ I said through clenched teeth.

‘Thank you,’ repeated Caroline, beaming at Ed in adoration. ‘See you on Thursday then, Natalie. 7.30 sharp. Lovely to meet you, Ed.’

‘You too.’ Ed said, nodding with a grin.

Caroline gave us both a neat little wave as she skipped down the steps into her stupidly large, gas-guzzling car. ‘Byeee,’ she trilled before driving off in a haze of planet-destroying fumes.

‘Judgemental cow!’ I cried as I slammed the door behind me.

‘I thought she was nice,’ teased Ed.

‘Shut up,’ I said, jabbing him in the chest. ‘You like anyone who admires your pictures. You’re basically a three-year-old in a man’s body.’

‘Guilty as charged,’ he laughed, holding up his hands. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked, as I pulled on my coat and grabbed my bag from the kitchen.

I fixed him with a look. ‘I’m not having that prissy tiger mother judging me. And you’re right. I need to be more proactive if I want to save my marriage.’

‘So-o?’

‘I’m going to surprise Dan at work and take him out for lunch, get the campaign rolling.’

‘Good for you, honey,’ he smiled. ‘Good for you.’

An hour later, I was standing outside Dan’s offices, checking my appearance in the window of the glass-fronted building. Ed had encouraged me to slow down, change into something ‘casual but sexy’, as he called it. My options had been limited but the blouse and jacket looked pretty good. ‘And brush your hair,’ he instructed. I had even put on lipstick. Usually, I just applied foundation and a dab of blusher so as not to frighten the Reception children in the school playground but actually, it felt good to make more of an effort. I did my best to stride with confidence into the building. This is always tricky where revolving doors are concerned but I managed to make it to the reception desk without having to go round a second time or falling over.

The woman behind the desk was immaculate with perfect hair, nails and teeth. A fleeting concern that Dan was having an affair with her leapt into my mind. I could feel my heart thundering as I approached the desk and said, ‘Please could you call Dan Garfield for me. It’s his wife.’ I watched her face carefully at these words. No flicker of recognition, guilt or jealousy . Calm that imagination, Nat, you crazy fool.

‘Just a moment, please.’ She smiled, putting through a call. ‘Dan Garfield? I have your wife here for you.’ She listened to the reply. ‘Er, okay, well she’s standing right here. Do you want to speak to her?’

I frowned with confusion as she held out the receiver. ‘Hello, Nat?’ said a voice. ‘This is Dan’s colleague, Penny.’ I could vaguely remember meeting her on a trip to the office with Woody once. She was pretty but I recall Dan saying that she was a bit annoying. Maybe that was a red herring, maybe she was in fact his dream woman and was about to confess to me.

‘Hello?’ I said, keeping my voice guarded. ‘Is Dan not available?’

‘He’s left for the day,’ she explained.

‘Oh. Right.’

‘Yes, sorry. He had another hospital appointment.’

‘Pardon?’ The world seemed to blur in and out of focus.

‘Another hospital appointment?’ said Penny but with less certainty this time. ‘Sorry, Nat, I assumed you knew and had just forgotten.’

‘Erm, yeah, of course, the hospital appointment,’ I stuttered, not wanting to seem like more of a fool than I already felt.

‘It’s at St Peter’s and he only left about ten minutes ago so you can probably catch him up. I’m sure he’ll be glad of the company. He said how boring it was waiting last time.’

‘Yes. Great. Thanks, Penny.’ I handed the receiver back to the receptionist. ‘Thanks. Thank you very much,’ I said, needing to fill the air with words as a rising tide of panic swept over me.

I wasn’t sure who was making my body walk out of the building, onto the street and along the road. All I knew was that I had to get to Dan. I had to be with him because suddenly I realised why he had left me. He was ill and he was going to die and in his ever-reasonable, ever kind and gentle way, he was trying to spare my feelings by facing it on his own. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. I was going to go to him, comfort him and offer him all the support he needed. He wouldn’t have to face it on his own. I would be there with him, right until the end.

‘Okay, everyone, thank you for coming. Let’s make a start, shall we?’ I gave the group seated in my kitchen a warm encouraging smile. I remembered running meetings from my years at the bank and I’d always loved that dynamic buzz of people coming together, sharing their ideas and making things happen. Admittedly this was small beer compared to the deals I’d been involved with at Sheridan’s but still, it was important.

Life was very different since I’d given up work but I told myself that it was a good different. Oliver went out to work, I stayed home and worked for Matilda – a demanding but nonetheless rewarding employer. Since she’d started school, I’d had time to take on worthwhile projects within the community, whether it be the PTA or this campaign to save Hope Street hall.

I had always thrown myself into life, done my best and aimed for excellence. I know some people feel intimidated by me. I can’t blame them. I try to live up to my old school motto, Ad summa nitamur – ‘Let us strive for perfection’. I know this isn’t for everyone. Perfection is such a final word, but I believe you have to try. Anything else is just giving up.

Besides, I know people value me because I get things done. I’m on first-name terms with Julie in the school office and Mr Metcalfe, the Head, publicly thanked me after the summer fair last year. That’s the thing, you’re either a doer or a moaner. I never moan, I learnt that from my dad. He grabbed life by the throat and got on with it, even when he was ill.