Chapter Ten
T he little entranceway of the village hall was less than warm. It was also less than private. Sophie wished she’d picked up her jacket before she came out, but Tilly had stalked off and she’d followed behind like a lost puppy.
“Can you read music?” Tilly asked.
“No,” said Sophie.
Tilly sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Alright, give me a second.” She pulled out her phone and started messing with it.
Sophie bit her lip, wondering just what to say. The problem was, she’d had no chance to explain herself. The rehearsal had started so quickly, and now that solid ‘no’ was hanging in the air. It seemed weird to bring it up now, but then, she had to say something, didn’t she?
Unless she just left this, like everything else, unfinished and ruined. She took a hiccuping breath and glanced over at Tilly. Her curls fell over her face as she leaned over her phone screen and her profile was so angular, so perfect, that Sophie’s heart stilled for a second.
Okay, alright, leaving things was not an option. She liked Tilly, she had already admitted that. There was no hurry though, surely? It wasn’t like they were going anywhere. She had time to fix this. Maybe she should just give it a few days, see if Tilly forgot.
“Alright, this is easy,” Tilly said, holding up a piano app on her phone. “I’ll play your part first.” She looked at the music Billy had given them in her other hand.
“Billy said we just had to memorize the words,” Sophie said.
Tilly arched an eyebrow at her. “Really? Because if we’re going to do something, we should do it well.”
“Well, yeah, I guess, but maybe we should just do as we’re told?” asked Sophie anxiously.
Tilly breathed out through her nose. “What’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem.”
“I’m a police officer. You think I can’t tell when someone’s lying?”
“I’m not lying,” Sophie said, starting to feel warmer now.
“Sure about that? Because you don’t look very comfortable right now.”
“Because I forgot to bring my jacket, that’s all,” said Sophie.
Tilly arched that eyebrow again, and Sophie’s pulse pumped a little harder. “Right.”
Sophie blew out a breath. She had to deal with this. Well, with the ‘not going for a drink’ part. The terrifying ‘singing in front of someone else’ part would have to wait a minute. “Listen, I’m sorry about before. I didn’t get a chance to explain myself.”
“No explanations necessary,” Tilly said sharply.
“Yeah, but—”
“We’ve got fifteen minutes to learn this,” said Tilly. “Are we going to actually learn it, or should we make idiots out of ourselves when we go back in?”
Sophie could feel herself go pale. “She’s not going to make us sing it in front of everyone.”
Tilly frowned. “Um, that’s sort of the point. That’s what a solo is.”
“Yeah, but…” Sophie found that she was feeling a little bit sick. “But…” she tried again.
“But… you’re terrified,” said Tilly. The corner of her mouth tweaked up just a little, then the movement disappeared. She cleared her throat. “Nothing to be terrified of.”
“There’s not?” squeaked Sophie. “Because apparently I’m supposed to go out there in front of pretty much everyone I know and sing a song that I don’t know.” She didn’t add ‘with you,’ even though she was thinking it.
“With me,” Tilly said for her. But she was smiling now. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about. Well, at least you haven’t if you’ll actually practice right now.”
“Are you sure about that?” Sophie asked.
Tilly rolled her eyes. “I was in the police choir. This is simple stuff. It’s a four-line verse of Away in a Manger, it’s child’s play. There’s like, three notes, it’s easy. Listen.” She played three notes on the piano on her phone screen. “Sing those.”
“Sing what?” Sophie said.
Tilly sighed. “Alright, sing this.” She played one note.
Sophie’s mouth was dry. She opened her mouth and a strange croaking sound came out. She cringed.
“Alright, swallow, take a deep breath and try again,” Tilly said.
She did as she was told. This time, the note was somewhat identifiable.
“And the next one,” said Tilly.
She sang that.
“Then this one.”
She sang that too.
“Right, all you need to do is sing those three notes. Let’s try the first line, like this.” Tilly demonstrated and Sophie closed her eyes and sang right back at her.
“Good,” said Tilly when Sophie opened her eyes again. “But…”
“But what?” The faint relief that she’d felt came crashing down and now her knees were starting to shake.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Tilly said quickly. “It’s just that you need to sing from your diaphragm. Try again.”
Sophie closed her eyes. Diaphragm? What the hell was that? She was fairly sure that Tilly wasn’t talking about birth control options, but what did she know? She didn’t want to look stupid, so she sang, just like she had before.
“No, no, no,” Tilly said.
And before Sophie knew what was happening, Tilly had put her phone down and was walking closer, nearer and nearer, until Sophie could smell clean soap and cinnamon. Sophie took a deep breath in and then Tilly was behind her and she could feel the hairs at the back of her neck start to stand up.
“Alright, breathe out,” Tilly said from behind her. “Then breathe in again.”
It was definitely warm now. Uncomfortably warm. Sophie could feel her hands starting to sweat and when Tilly’s words sent little puffs of air onto the back of her neck, she started to feel more than weak at the knees. She gulped and then breathed.
“Good,” said Tilly. Then her hands were on Sophie, one on her back, one on her chest. “Now breathe again, feel the tension when I press.”
She did as she was told. Frankly, at this point, Tilly could have told her to surrender her first-born child, and she’d have done it.
“Good, good,” Tilly said.
She was even closer now, the words tickling at the skin of Sophie’s neck until Sophie was breathing out and in again even though Tilly hadn’t told her to. Until Sophie was breathing harder, even.
“That’s enough,” Tilly said.
Sophie felt the heat between her legs, felt herself start to lean back into Tilly’s grasp, until Tilly stepped away and it felt like being unmoored.
“Sing from there,” Tilly said. “From that place in your chest. I know it sounds ridiculous, but just do it.”
Sharp blue eyes were looking at her and Sophie was so en-tranced that she didn’t even bother closing her eyes this time. She opened her mouth and sang. A smile spread across Tilly’s face.
“Better,” Tilly said. “Very nice, actually. Here, take a look at the words.”
Sophie flushed with color as she took the lyric sheet from Tilly’s hands.
“The music itself is simple, look at the dots,” Tilly was saying. “The higher the dot is on the line, the higher the note you sing. There’s only three notes, so it’s not that difficult. Give it a try. Here, these are your three notes and you start on the top one, the highest.” She picked up her phone again.
Frowning down at the paper, Sophie did as she was told and found that it was easy, actually. And that maybe she didn’t sound too bad.
“Again,” said Tilly. “Listen to your part on the piano for a second.” She played it. “Now sing it again.”
And Sophie did. Paying less attention to the paper this time and more to the fact that Tilly was nodding along.
“Great,” Tilly said when she was done. She sniffed. “That Billy was right. You’re a decent singer.”
Sophie looked down at her scuffed sneakers. “Thanks.”
“I’m only speaking the truth,” said Tilly.
Sophie took a deep breath. “Thank you anyway,” she said. “And about earlier, I just…”
“It’s not a problem,” said Tilly. “It’s really not. I probably shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s not that,” began Sophie.
From the hall, they heard the sound of Billy blowing a whistle. “Get back in here,” she shouted.
Before Sophie could say anything else, Tilly was walking away, back into the hall. With a sigh, she followed. Had she really blown all this so fast? And why was it so impossible to tell what Tilly was thinking?
“Alright, recite your words to me,” Billy said when they rejoined the rest of the group. “Let me see you’ve put the work in.”
“Actually, we can sing ours,” Tilly said primly.
If she hadn’t been busy being terrified, Sophie would have rolled her eyes. She should have guessed that Tilly was the kind of person who reminded the teacher that the class had homework.
“Good-o,” Billy said, moving to behind the piano. “Go on then.”
Which was when it occurred to Sophie that she wasn’t supposed to sing alone. She was supposed to sing with Tilly, and that the two of them hadn’t sung together at all.
“Trust me,” breathed Tilly.
Sophie swallowed, bit her lip, then nodded. For some reason she did trust her.
She opened her mouth and the first note came out and then Tilly did the same and suddenly… suddenly this was the easiest thing in the world. Suddenly their voices were twining together, and it was effortless, and Sophie was smiling as she sang. Doing this with Tilly rather than just alone made it so much less terrifying.
“Alright,” Billy said when they’d finished. “Not bad.” But Sophie knew that Billy didn’t offer praise easily, and that she had been just the tiniest bit impressed.
The rest of the practice rolled along until it was late and people were yawning and it was really time to go home. Finally, Billy released them.
Sophie grabbed her jacket and looked around, desperate to find Tilly. Desperate to explain herself, to make Tilly listen to her, to set things right. But Tilly was nowhere to be found.