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best encouraging tone, which bore more than a hint of Joyce Grenfell. ‘What I meant was, do you all know which parts you sing? Alto? Tenor? Soprano?’

      ‘I watch The Sopranos,’ Stan grinned, affecting the most appalling impression of an Italian-American accent, ‘cos you gotta love a bit of Tony and duh family, eh?’

      ‘Ooh, I love that show,’ Sasha agreed as she and Stan launched into an excited commentary on their favourite episodes.

      Daisy smiled helpfully at Elsie as she handed out music. Elsie inhaled deeply and hoped that her smile wasn’t drooping as much as her spirits were. It was nearly nine p.m. already and so far all that had been accomplished was an elongated discussion of where they could find customised T-shirts for a choir uniform, and a small fracas over Sasha’s curt reaction to Woody’s suggestion that a medley of Hellfinger hits could be a better opening gambit for the choir:

      ‘Bit difficult to make a medley out of only one song, isn’t it?’

      ‘I’ll have you know our debut album sold over eighty thousand copies!’

      ‘Really? I wonder how many of those are now landfill?’

      ‘How dare you besmirch the name of England’s seminal Eighties rock gods!’

      ‘Seminal rock gods? Don’t make me laugh! Most of you are dead, in rehab or so drunk you can’t stop shaking. That’s what Wikipedia reckons. Only the chap who had the good sense to leave and become a record producer got anything out of your seminal band!’

      ‘I won’t have his name uttered in this space, you hear me, girl?’

      The argument had only been halted by Cher’s timely intervention with freshly baked dark chocolate and espresso cookies from the kitchen served with scoops of white chocolate ice cream, but now a distinct atmosphere hung over Sasha and Woody who had assumed disgruntled positions at opposite sides of the room.

      Elsie took a deep breath and smiled brightly at everyone. ‘OK, I’m going to play some notes and ask you to sing them. I should be able to work out from that which parts everyone should be taking.’

      Initially, the collective sound made by the gathered singers was anything but encouraging. Danny came in way too high and continued in a strained falsetto for several minutes until Elsie sang the note in the correct key for his voice. Sasha’s instrument proved a powerful one, although she clearly thought singing a single note was beneath her, opting instead for a set of vocal acrobatics that even Beyoncé would have considered a little over-the-top. Aoife just looked terrified and Elsie had to stop everyone else singing just to hear the young girl’s whispered tone. Stan got a fit of the giggles and couldn’t sing for laughing. Irene managed a note at least, which shrank away to nothing when Elsie complimented her on it. Woody sat next to Elsie, eyes wide in sheer horror at the ear-gratingly awful sound, and even Daisy looked as if she was ready to throw in the towel.

      Elsie clapped her hands and surveyed the mournful choir before her. ‘OK, take a break, everyone. Now I’m going to come round and just sing with each of you to give you the notes you need, and then we’ll try it again all together when everyone’s happy.’

      Twenty minutes later, Elsie had arranged the group into something resembling choral order. Aoife and Sasha represented the sopranos, Irene was designated the alto part, while Danny was the sole tenor and Stan somewhere between baritone and bass. Elsie patiently sang each part in turn for the group (who mumbled in return) then raised her hand to quiet them again.

      ‘OK, that’s good. Not very loud, but I appreciate we’re all still finding our voices …’

      Sasha tutted. ‘Some of us more than others.’

      Danny glared at her. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

      ‘Irene doesn’t speak at all, let alone sing, and your girlfriend couldn’t make a noise if her ass was on fire.’

      ‘Sasha, there’s no need for that,’ Elsie jumped in. ‘I think you should apologise …’

      ‘I will not. I’ve been holding back my voice all night to let this lot sing and none of them have bothered even trying.’

      Stan’s face reddened. ‘Easy on, now. It’s the first time we’ve all sung, remember.’

      ‘Well sing, then!’

      Woody stormed over to Elsie. ‘I think we made a mistake with these people. None of them understand their destiny …’

      ‘What would you know about destiny, you failed rocker freak?’ Sasha retorted as the room became a mass of raised voices, angry words and wild gestures.

      Elsie stood and was about to speak when a booming voice pierced through the din.

      ‘Ee-e-e-e-e-e-e-enough!’

      The room fell silent and all heads turned to see an uncharacteristically ruffled Daisy breathing heavily by the counter.

      ‘I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Grown men and women acting like spoilt children – no, worse than that because I’m pretty sure even children would draw the line at such pettiness. Now you listen to me, my sister has put so much effort into making this choir something fun, something different – something you’ll want to be a part of. You’ve not even given her the courtesy of your attention to complete one song yet! If you knew what she has been through in the last few years …’ she swiped at a tear that dared to show itself at the corner of her left eye ‘… if you had any idea

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