The Choir on Hope Street: A gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy to make your heart sing!. Annie LyonsЧитать онлайн книгу.
me,’ he said, grinning, leading Caroline into the dining room.
‘Oh, wow!’ breathed Caroline, taking in the sketches. ‘These are gorgeous.’ Ed stood back, basking in the glory.
Actually, they were pretty magnificent. He had given Ned a super-hero make-over, complete with mask, cape and dinky boots.
‘You are so talented,’ declared Caroline.
‘Well, Nat?’ asked Ed, looking at me. Bless, I thought. He still needs approval from his mum.
‘They’re wonderful,’ I smiled. Ed beamed. I almost wished I had a gold sticker to give him. ‘Just one thing, do you think he should have his pants over his costume like that? Maybe he should have a belt with the NB logo instead?’
Ed’s face wrinkled into a frown as he took in the illustrations again. ‘I thought the pants thing made it more fun,’ he said.
‘I think it’s perfect,’ declared Caroline.
‘See? Caroline thinks it’s perfect and she’s an actual, real-life reader,’ said Ed in a know-it-all voice.
I knew he was teasing but I was irritated by Caroline’s interference. What did she know about books and writing? This was my world. She should stick to PTA cake sales and Farrow and Ball paint charts. I kept my voice calm. ‘Let’s see what the art director thinks, shall we?’
Ed glanced at me. He could tell I was riled. ‘Whatever you think, angel-cake.’
I smiled with gratitude. ‘Anyway, Caroline, thanks for dropping by and for the flowers.’
She looked at me in surprise. If she thought she was staying for a cuppa, she was mistaken. ‘Oh yes, no problem at all. It was great to see you and lovely to meet you, Ed,’ she cried with a sycophantic smile. I followed her to the front door. She paused, turning back to face me. She was one of those women who knew how to make the best of her features. She wasn’t necessarily beautiful but she wore the right make-up, clothes and hairstyle to make herself effortlessly attractive and therefore rather intimidating to me. ‘Actually, Natalie, there was something I wanted to ask you.’
Oh gawd, here it comes. She’s got a brilliant book idea that she wants me to look at or she’s going to enlist me to write all the copy for the PTA. And I’m too weak to say no. Damn you, Dan – this is all your fault.
‘Did you know that they’re planning to demolish Hope Street Community Hall?’
I was shocked. I had fond memories of the place. It was a fairly dilapidated building but it was much loved and used by the busy, chaotic toddler group, which provided a haven for new mothers on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings. I had found this a godsend when Woody was a baby. It was run by a group of retired ladies, who were basically like clucky, kindly hens, always willing to make you an industrial-strength coffee whilst they rocked and cuddled your fractious baby. On more than one occasion, during the intense early years, I had arrived looking like a character from A Nightmare On Elm Street, but returned home feeling almost human and reassured by their kindness and insistence that I keep up my strength by devouring at least twenty-five chocolate bourbons.
‘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