No, thought Jude wryly. But then Paul McCartney woke up one morning with the complete tune of ‘Yesterday’ in his head, didn’t he? I don’t see much evidence of your having done anything like that, KK. She reflected how enduring the myth of the rock star lifestyle was, how many young men had bought into the fantasy of instinctive genius, of having no training, no responsibilities, along with an endless supply of gigs and groupies. She remembered a joke which a former musician lover had told her. ‘What do you call a drummer without a girlfriend?’ To which the answer was, of course, ‘Homeless.’ She had a feeling that KK Rosser fitted rather closely into that timeworn profile.
‘Anyway, enough chat. Let’s get down to some singing. You’ve done some photocopies, haven’t you, Heather?’
‘Sure.’
‘Well, pass those round.’
Heather, Jude observed, had put a lot of work into preparing for the evening. The music had been assembled in black plastic folders, one for each person there, and a good few spares.
‘Now, I don’t know,’ said KK, ‘whether this is your kinda music, but it’s my kinda music, and this is the kinda music we’re going to be playing. Yes, sirree. It’s basically stuff I like and, by the end of the evening, you’re going to like it too. And if any of you think choirs belong in church and that kind of crap, well, your ideas are going to change.’ Jude felt relieved Bob Hinkley wasn’t present to hear this.
KK picked up his acoustic guitar and strummed a chord. ‘Now you’ll see the music in your folders has got the dots all printed out for you. If you can read them, great. If not, join my club. Of course, I don’t know what kind of voices you’ve got, and I’m not too bothered about all that soprano, tenor, bass stuff. We’ll just find some harmonies we like. And the best way we’ll find those is by cutting the crap and starting to sing. So, I want you all to turn to page seven on your hymn sheets – uh-uh, my little joke. Anyone know this one?’
It was Carole King’s ‘You’ve Got a Friend’. Jude joined those who put up hands of recognition. The only people who didn’t were Ruskin Dewitt, and the two sisters Shirley and Veronica Tattersall. Presumably, their lives in church choirs had never encompassed popular music.
‘OK, let’s just start singing. I’ll give you a chord, and we’ll go straight into the song on the count of three.’ KK strummed his guitar. ‘Ah, one, two, three …’
They were ragged, yes, but because most of them were familiar with the song, the overall sound was not too bad. Covertly, Jude looked around at her fellow singers. Though the Tattersall sisters were very nervous and gave little voice to the unfamiliar tune, all of the other participants looked happy. Ruskin Dewitt was, as ever, serenely flat, and serenely unaware of being flat. At the end of the song, the singers gave themselves a spontaneous round of applause.
‘Not so dusty,’ said KK. ‘We’ve got a good range of voices here, so let’s work out how we’re going to use them to get the best harmonies …’
As he moved around, singing the lines he wanted the individual voices to take, Heather Mallett, whose note-perfect voice had soared above the others during the song, positively glowed. Her idea for the Crown & Anchor Choir was going to be a success.
They continued work on ‘You’ve Got a Friend’ and three other songs until about eight fifteen. Then, rather abruptly, KK looked at his watch and said, ‘Well done all of you. Afraid that’s all for tonight. I gotta split. Due at a rehearsal.’
Jude remembered Ted Crisp’s assertion that KK never rehearsed and wondered whether that had been true or was just joshing between the two men. Heather raised a hand to stop KK’s departure. ‘We haven’t paid you yet.’
This could have been a plea to make him stay, but the woman’s tone hadn’t sounded needy.
‘Look, I gotta dash. Could you collect the bread, Heather, and give it to me whenever?’ Whether or not that implied the two were going to meet before the next Monday, Jude couldn’t be sure.
But, as KK shoved his guitar into its black zip-up case and hurried off, Heather didn’t look upset by his departure.
And in the Crown & Anchor bar, she looked distinctly happy. At the end of the proceedings some of the singers had gone straight out into the chilly night, but a good few had stayed for another drink. Jude was pleased about that. Though Ted had been generous with the free wine, she thought it was important to back up KK’s assertion that the choir evenings would boost his takings across the bar.
‘Well, that was rather fun,’ boomed Ruskin Dewitt. ‘I clearly have a lot to catch up on after my misspent youth concentrating on church music.’
‘Never underestimate popular song,’ said Bet Harrison.
‘I never will again. And if you can sing one kind of music, I’m sure you can easily adapt to another kind. The basics remain the same.’ Yes, thought Jude a little uncharitably, whatever the music, you still can’t sing it. You are destined to be flat for ever. There was something about Ruskin Dewitt’s certitude and complacency that had always annoyed her.
‘Of course, a lot of the great divas,’ said Elizabeth Browning, ‘broadened their repertoire very considerably into different genres of music. And I remember, at Glyndebourne, we were once asked to provide backing for an album of—’
Heather had clearly been around Elizabeth long enough to know that interruption was the only way of stemming her flow. ‘Will you be up for coming again, Ruskin?’ she asked.
‘You betcha. My expedition into the mysterious world of popular song must continue. And please, my dear Heather, do call me “Russ”.’
‘All right … Russ.’
Jude reckoned it was worth asking the direct question. ‘And will you all go on doing both choirs … you know, this and the church one?’
‘Oh yes, I’m sure we will,’ said Heather quickly.
‘Of course,’ said Bet Harrison.
‘Can’t let Bob down, can we?’ said Ruskin Dewitt.
With an edge of cynicism, Jude wondered how long those good intentions would remain.
‘Apart from anything else,’ said Heather, ‘I want to have the full complement for Alice’s wedding. No absentees then. Have you all got the date inked into your diaries?’
‘Certainly,’ said Bet.
‘Wouldn’t miss it for worlds,’ said Russ.
Heather turned to Jude. ‘And what about you?’
‘But I’m not in the church choir.’
‘That’s a detail. You’ve got a lovely singing voice. I heard you in the Function Room. And I noticed you could read music.’
‘Yes, but that’s different. Bob Hinkley asked me if I’d join the church choir and I had to apprise him of the small but important detail that I don’t have any faith.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Heather breezily. ‘If all the people who have no faith stopped going to church, the congregations would be even smaller than they are already.’
‘Well …’
‘Go on, say you’ll join in. I want Alice and Roddy to have the most perfect wedding it’s possible to have.’
‘Oh, all right,’ Jude conceded. ‘I’ll do it for the wedding, but that’s a one-off. There’s no danger I’m going to become a regular.’
‘That’s fine. But bless you for saying you’ll do the wedding. I’m so excited about it. Alice is such a lovely girl, that I want her wedding to be the best day of her life.’
Jude blinked. Was Heather really talking about the young woman who only a few weeks before had accused her of murder?