by Jenny Kane
‘Actually,’ Megan couldn’t disguise her grin, ‘you will see Jo again.’
‘When he comes to drop off his bill you mean?’
‘No, I mean when he comes to the concert. I invited him.’ Taking no notice of the joint expressions of horror and pleasure that vied for attention across Izzie’s face, Megan munched her cheese on toast before saying, ‘So we’d better find you a drop dead gorgeous meet and greet outfit from that wardrobe of yours, don’t you think?’
‘I’m not sure I have anything that goes with my matching crutch accessories!’
Megan laughed as her mobile burst into life. She’d been expecting a call from Nick, but this was a number she didn’t recognise, ‘Hello?’
Gesturing to Izzie that she’d be back in a minute, Megan listened to the familiar voice, ‘Yes … No … I think that is an excellent idea … really, she’ll be delighted …’
Hanging up a few minutes later, Megan just hoped she was right.
‘Nick?’
‘Yes,’ Megan crossed her fingers behind her back, ‘He confused me by using the works phone. Let’s go and see if you have a dress in just the right shade of National Health grey.’
Chapter Nine
December 21st
The friends arrived outside the Cotswold Art Centre at seven o’clock in the morning, both determined to work on the assumption that they had a concert to prepare for, and that if they didn’t, then could invite all the locals over for an impromptu Christmas party, led by the ever-vigorous Mrs V.
Megan frowned as she got out of the car. ‘The scaffolding has disappeared. I wasn’t imagining it still being there last night, was I?’
Izzie shook her head, ‘They must have taken it down mega early this morning. I’m quite relieved. I had a horrible feeling that if they’d left it there, you’d have draped it in fairy lights.’
Megan, who’d enjoyed lining every wall, cupboard, doorway, and even the font in tiny silver lights, poked her friend playfully in the ribs, ‘Well, you couldn’t have done it. You’d have fallen off!’
‘Touché!’ Izzie rested on her crutches, checking the path ahead for icy patches to avoid as she walked. ‘Ready to find out if the electrician came or not?’
With an armful of Izzie’s own plates and bowls to add to the kitchen supplies, Megan followed her friend towards the south aisle door.
Balancing the right crutch on the wall, Izzie was about to dig her keys from her pocket, when she noticed that the door was already ajar. ‘Oh my God! You don’t think we’ve been burgled, do you? What if that guy came and he didn’t lock up properly?’ Izzie steadied herself on the wall. ‘I’m not sure I can bring myself to look.’
Not wanting to go in on her own either, Megan spoke bracingly, ‘We’ll go in together. One, two, three, walk.’
Bursting through the door at the same time, the girls shrieked as they walked straight into the darkened church and the shadowy figure of man.
Jumping in shock, the women jarred elbows and, with an ear-splitting smash, the top two bowls dropped from Megan’s arms and smashed into smithereens on the stone floor.
‘I’m so sorry! Talk about bad timing!’ The lights flickered into life as Jo started to collect the shards of porcelain, ‘I was double-testing the lights. Are you alright?’
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
Jo rolled his eyes. ‘Still prickly as well as ungrateful. then?’
Izzie swallowed a groan. Why was it like this every time she saw him? And why was her pulse racing just that little bit faster as she noticed the teasing gleam in his eye. ‘I’m sorry, Jo; I thought we had a burglar.’ Izzie looked around the church in utter amazement. Not only were the lights on, but the entire place looked as though it had been transformed into Santa’s grotto. ‘When did you do all this? It’s incredible. But why, I’ve hardly deserved this have I? I’ve been, well …’
‘Prickly?’
‘A bit.’
Jo shrugged in a “whatever am I going to do with you?” sort of a way before addressing Megan, ‘I can’t believe you jumped! You knew I’d be here after all.’
Izzie looked from Megan to Jo and back again. ‘You knew?’
Megan laughed. ‘Yep.’
The backs of the pews had been topped with garlands of pine cones. The tables had been covered in red cloths, and the untidy craft cupboard had been totally disguised with a red sheet, swathes of silver tinsel, and an arrangement of candles. But most impressive of all was the seven-foot Christmas tree which now stood, ripe for decoration, in the alcove to the north aisle.
‘Thank you so much – but when did you do this?’
‘I got here about five to help the scaffolding guys out. Then, after chatting to Megan last night, I thought I’d crack on with sorting this place out.’
‘So you have both been ganging up on me for my own good again, have you?’
‘Yes!’ Jo and Megan spoke in unison.
Seeing Izzie was temporarily speechless, Megan turned to Jo, ‘Don’t keep us in suspense, Jo. What happened at the rehearsal?’
‘Should I be sitting down for this?’ Even though Izzie rather liked the idea of having all the locals over, after all they’d all be so supportive of her new enterprise during the last six months; she also desperately wanted the choir to perform here. Not to spite her mother, but to prove to herself that she could provide a place worthy of such an esteemed choir – albeit with the help of her friends.
Jo pulled back a chair, ‘Maybe you should, Izzie.’
‘I’m Izzie again now, am I, not Miss Spencer-Harris?’
‘You sounded just like you mother then!’
‘Ouch!’ Izzie couldn’t help smile at the glint in Jo’s eye. ‘Hang on; did you go to the rehearsal with David last night?’
‘I drove him over.’ Jo took a deep breath. ‘It went well. The orangery is impressive, and although your mother is obviously proud of you, Izzie, she clearly doesn’t want the potential suitors she has lined up for you seeing you “at work”.’
‘You mean she’s convinced David that the likes of the Duke and Duchess of Banbury can’t be entertained in an abandoned church?’
‘If it helps, I’ve met the Duke and Duchess of Banbury, and they won’t mind where the concert is held as long as they get to hear their heir sing!’ Jo reached his hand out and covered Izzie’s with his palm, sending a comforting glow rushing to her heart. ‘Anyway, I invited David here this morning to see that all’s well for himself. He’ll be here at nine.’
The women simultaneously looked at their wristwatches.
‘But that’s less than two hours away!’ Megan grabbed a box of decorations from a nearby table. ‘I take it you were going to dress the tree next?’
Jo kept his eyes fixed on Izzie while answering Megan. ‘I was, but first I was carrying out an experiment. One of things David liked so much last night was the lighting. It was very tasteful. Bright and airy on arrival, and then dimmed to just candlelight around the audience, and low-level stage lighting so the choir could read their music during the performance. I thought we could do the same. Have the centre’s main lights on for everyone’s arrival, and then use Megan’s fairy light overdose for the main event, but I think we’d need a touch more light by the singers. If they can’t see their music, it won’t work at all.’
‘So what you’re saying,’ needing to be able to think clearly, Izzie reluctantly pulled her hand from Jo’s, ‘is that we have one hour and forty minutes to make this place perfect, and if not, David will take his choir to my parents’ hall?’
‘David is a good bloke. I can’t see him going back on his promise to hold the concert here if he doesn’t have to, but I’m sure the right lighting with confirm it for you!’
Megan, who had already started hanging tinsel, and her mobile phone tucked under her chin, asked, ‘Jo, would you say that Lord Spencer-Harris would be on our side? If he was brave enough to say so?’
The carpenter laughed, wiping his flop
py fringe from his eyes, ‘Yes I would. He’s behind Izzie all the way.’
‘You know the wrought iron candle holders in your parents’ dining room, Izzie?’
Still coming to terms with the fact her father was prepared to back her and not his wife, Izzie nodded dumbly at Megan, ‘We could fill those with the tea-lights. Do we have time, Jo? If I called ahead, could you get there and back in time?’
‘I’m on it!’ Running to the door, Jo hooked his keys from his pocket before running back, and kissing Izzie firmly on the lips. ‘Sorry, couldn’t go without seeing if your lips were as prickly as you are!’
Megan had lit the final tea-light, and Jo had switched off the main lights to gauge the overall effect just as David Healy walked in.
‘Well, I can see you weren’t spinning me a line because you’ve taken a shine to Miss Spencer-Harris, Joseph. This is charming.’
Izzie, who’d been on the phone to Mrs V, hearing all about the latest gallon of mulled wine she was brewing for the evening ahead, hung up hastily, and pressed her crutches into action.
‘Mr Healy, thank you so much for coming again. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it last night.’ Izzie tilted her head towards her foot by way of an explanation.
‘Don’t you worry, Joseph explained.’
Unable to stand the tension of not knowing, Izzie asked, ‘Are you here to tell me your choir won’t be singing here tonight after all?’
David looked shocked. ‘Of course not! We had a deal. I was keeping an eye out for a different venue in case you couldn’t get the roof fixed, but as soon as Joseph told me he was helping I knew you’d be alright. After all, why would I argue with my best baritone?’
‘Your what?’ Izzie’s mouth dropped open, but rather than explode as Megan thought she might, Izzie looked hurt, and a little defeated. ‘So you did this for the choir then? Because you wanted the best for them?’
Shaking his head furiously, Jo took away Izzie’s crutches, and hugged Izzie against him, tucking her against his shoulder. ‘It was at first. But when I met you, you seemed so indomitable and, well, cute. Then, when you fell on me … I know it sounds old fashioned, but all your feistiness disappeared, and you were a damsel in distress. And before you say it, no I wasn’t living out some silly save-the-day hero thing. I wanted this place to be perfect for the choir, and then I wanted it to be perfect for you as well.’
Obviously feeling awkward at witnessing a private conversation, David cleared his throat, ‘Well, whyever you helped, Joseph, I’m very glad you did.’ The choir master turned to Izzie. ‘I fear you must have misunderstood, Miss Spencer-Harris. I only rehearsed last night so the electrics could get sorted. All that remains now is for me to inform the choir we’re on, and get everyone here for a run-through before we start. I was thinking about 5 p.m. Is that alright?’
Megan, who’d been grinning all over her face as she stood on the top rung of a stepladder to place the last garland of tinsel around the tree, realised that Izzie wasn’t saying anything. ‘Yes, yes of course. My partner will be here to help soon, and Mrs V is busy preparing the refreshments. Five o’clock is just perfect. Thank you.’
Izzie, whose body didn’t seem to want to come away from the firm torso she was propped against, finally found her powers of speech. ‘What about my mother? Didn’t she persuade you to move the event to the orangery?’
The choir master laughed, ‘She gave it a good shot, but as your father and Jo pointed out, I had already accepted your invitation. If I hadn’t felt this place was right I’d never have agreed to hold the event here in the first place. After all, where better to hold a carol concert at Christmas than in a church?’
‘Thank you.’ Izzie caught Megan’s grin, ‘I’m so pleased! Not to mention impressed that you resisted my mother’s attempts to snare you!’
David laughed, ‘Well, I did have to appease her a little bit, but that could be to my advantage.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She is an excellent soprano. If she does well tonight I’ve told her she’ll get a permanent place on the choir.’ He laughed at Izzie’s confusion. ‘I run a posh choir. Women like your mother never expect you to disagree with them; if you do it gives you the element of surprise.’
Nick was barely out of the taxi before Megan hurled her arms around his waist. She was unable to steal the kiss she’d been dreaming of, however, as Nick was armed with two large cake tins.
When Megan looked at the containers questioningly, Nick laughed. ‘You didn’t think Peggy and Scott would let me come empty-handed, did you? I have two of Pickwicks’ finest brandy-rich Christmas cakes.’
Filled with love and gratitude for her employers, Megan took the tins so Nick could pay the taxi driver and retrieve his bag off the back seat. ‘Come on, I want to show you everything and everyone!’
‘You should have told me you were in the choir.’ Izzie was sat in the front pew while Jo arranged the music stands for the choir to place their song sheets on.
‘I wish we had time to be somewhere on our own, where we could tell each other all sorts of things, and have a proper kiss and stuff, and we will; but right now I want to help you make tonight perfect.’
Izzie’s eyebrows raise, ‘Kiss and stuff, huh?’
‘With emphasis on the “stuff”!’
‘Jo! Behave, we are in a church!’
‘A lapsed church! Anyway, you were thinking about it as well. Don’t pretend you weren’t!’
Izzie’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she hastily changed the subject, ‘So anything else you should tell me, or is your secret singing ability the last big surprise?’
‘Well, actually, you know I had a battle with my parents about not being a lawyer and …’
The sound of laughter cut through their conversation, not to mention the whole church, causing Jo and Izzie to turn around in time to see Mr and Mrs V arrive dressed up in French maid and waiter outfits.
‘Oh, you two are priceless!’ Megan introduced her new friends to Nick, who wasn’t sure if they’d come dressed like that as a joke or not.
Mr V, holding so many flasks that he was in danger of disappearing beneath them, chuckled, ‘We weren’t sure what the verdict was concert-wise, so we thought we’d come and raise a smile anyway. Don’t worry, we’re going to change in a bit!’
Hobbling along with Jo holding her elbow, Izzie embraced Mrs V. ‘You two really are priceless! But it’s OK, we’re off and running! The concert is on.’
‘That’s great! Although a shame for the locals of course.’
Nick looked puzzled, ‘Isn’t the concert open to everyone then?’
‘No, it’s a ticket-only job.’
Jo was thoughtful, ‘Izzie, we have a hell of a lot of food, and enough wine, beer, champagne, and mulled wine to fill a lake. Why not open the doors to everyone for a Christmas social after the concert?’
‘I don’t know?’ Izzie frowned, ‘I’d love to, but I wouldn’t want to offend the choir, or any of the people who’ve bought exclusive tickets. What do you think, Megan?’
Megan held Nick’s hand tightly, ‘I think that as many people as possible should try Pickwicks’ Christmas cake and Mrs V’s mulled wine!’
‘And David won’t mind at all. I promise.’ Jo smiled. ‘It would be a great way to thank everyone for helping, and if your mother gets her place in the choir, she won’t be on to you about letting just anyone in.’
Izzie beamed, ‘Right then, Jo, can you call all the workmen who aren’t in the choir, and invite them along. And Mr V, can you mobilise the village and let them know they’re all welcome from 9 p.m. for drinks and cake. There’ll be no charge, as they’ll really only be getting the stuff that’s left over! You sure it’s OK, though?’ Izzie asked Jo, ‘I’d hate the villagers to think I see them as second-best.’
‘Of course it’s OK, dear.’ Mrs V beamed. ‘This is your business, not a hobby. Everyone understands that.’
Jo kissed her nose, ‘Accommodating everyone.
That’s exactly what a centre in the heart of a village like this should do.’
The afternoon galloped into the evening. In no time at all a nervous but happily excited Izzie, stunning in a sequinned black and silver cocktail dress (which complemented the one crutch, which she felt she still needed for balance, perfectly) was greeting her guests.
Jo had helped David with the final technical preparations, and, after stealing a quick kiss from Izzie, disappeared into a rehearsing huddle with the rest of the choir.
The concert goers, enchanted with the Christmas grotto effect, took hot mince pies and cream from Megan and Nick, while Mr and Mrs V decanted drinks as if they’d been doing it all their lives, which of course, Izzie thought, they probably had.
Receiving a hug from her father, whose eyes were alight with pride as he introduced his daughter to anyone who was interested (not just to families with stray male offspring), Izzie felt on top of the world, as she watched all her guests enjoying themselves while they admired her beautiful art centre.
On a signal from Izzie, Nick called the room to attention, and enchanting everyone with his Irish brogue, invited them all to take their seats, before dimming the lights. The Cotswold Choir, headed by David, swept forward, the women in long black dresses; the men in tuxedos.
Izzie’s breath caught in her throat as Jo passed her pew, giving her the most suggestive wink she’d ever seen in her life. She wasn’t sure she was going to hear a word of the singing. All Izzie could think of was that her carpenter was the most attractive man she’d ever seen in her life.
The power of music swept the audience away. Izzie eyes welled with emotion as she sat with her father, who squeezed her leg as he whispered, ‘Your mother seems to have found the outlet she badly needed. She might leave you alone a bit!’ He smiled reassuringly, ‘I think perhaps you have found what you’ve been looking for too.’
Izzie looked at her father questioningly, as he added, ‘He is a very nice young man, and even your mother approves. Plus, if David takes her on, I’ll have every Thursday evening free. Bliss!’
Trying not to laugh so she didn’t disturb the concert, Izzie couldn’t help wonder what magic Jo had spun on her mother to get her to approve of her seeing a tradesman, when suddenly all the hairs on the back of her neck rose up, and a lump formed in her throat.