‘Little Jesus sweetly sleep,’ she started. ‘Do not stir. We will lend a coat of fur.’
And then the rest of the class joined in, their sweet high voices soft and in unison: ‘We will rock you … rock you … rock you … ’
To Carmen’s amazement – she wasn’t quite sure she was hearing right – there was one voice which soared above the others, strong and rich, singing loudly and sweetly over the top of the other children. She glanced towards Phoebe, who was staring straight out into the audience, so that she could hopefully spot her aunt across the lights. Clear as day, it was Phoebe singing. Carmen didn’t even know if she knew she was doing it; she was simply immersed in making music.
The music teacher was gesticulating wildly and at first Carmen thought she was trying to stop Phoebe, but then she realised she wanted her niece to come forwards to join Calintha for the next verse. Timidly, Phoebe stepped forwards as Calintha started: ‘Mary’s little baby sleep, sweetly sleep … sleep in comfort, slumber deep.’
Calintha’s voice sounded like she was trying to play Annie in the West End, the result of many expensive singing lessons. Phoebe’s came across straight, sweet and true, right from the heart. The hall was silent as the rest of the children joined in again.
‘We will rock you, rock you, rock you … ’
And once again, Phoebe’s voice, soaring over the rest in counterpoint. Carmen was thinking it was because of how tired she was, and her love for her niece, that there were tears running down her face. But when she glanced around, she saw that she wasn’t alone; not even nearly.
Of course Pippa’s bassoon solo was very nice, and Jack performed Jack things with his natural energy. But it was undoubtedly Phoebe’s day and the smile she beamed at Carmen told her everything, who opened her arms wide to greet her afterwards.
It was still relatively early when she got back to Mr McCredie’s, and Carmen quickly joined clearing the queues of people with a smile, telling Mr McCredie about the new baby. He was delighted and she vowed to bring him in as soon as possible.
‘Oh, and your chap popped in,’ he said.
‘Who?’ she said, glancing at him nervously.
‘Oh, a man came in to sign some books … ’
‘Blair?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh,’ she said, completely crestfallen. For a moment, just a moment, she had thought he meant Oke, the only person she wanted to see. ‘Yeah, he’s off to London. Or LA or something, who cares?’
Mr McCredie smiled.
‘Oh, and the dendrologist too.’
She stopped serving as a man in a kilt with a large beard patiently waited his turn – it was warmer on his knees in the shop than it was out.
‘Oke came here?’
‘He did.’
‘He was in here … Did he buy a book?’
‘He did.’
‘And did he say anything about me? Did he ask about me?’
Mr McCredie looked sad.
‘Well … he did actually.’
Her head shot up.
‘He asked where you were and I told him you weren’t here.’
‘AND THAT WAS ALL?!’
‘I’m so sorry, Carmen! When he didn’t show up the other night, I confess I thought that I’d made a mistake with you two, and I shouldn’t be interfering anyway.’
Carmen’s heart was pounding dangerously.
‘But he still came in?’