The Choir on Hope Street: A gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy to make your heart sing!

He was always so sweet like that back then. It was different when we were both working at the bank. We worked hard and partied even harder. They were very happy times, working all week, doing up the house at the weekends. We had builders in to start with but we finished it all ourselves. I can remember Saturdays, listening to cheesy music on the radio while we decorated. I feel as if I know every inch of that house.

I smiled at the memory but my thoughts were interrupted by a loud, gasping sob. I stared at Natalie. I’d almost forgotten she was there. She looked truly awful, her face red and blotchy. I watched with disgust as she used a sleeve to wipe one eye. I reached into the glove compartment and retrieved a tissue as I might do for Matilda. I held it out for her and she seemed so touched by this tiny act of kindness that it brought on a fresh round of tears.

‘Thank you. Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘You must think I’m a nightmare.’

Of course I did but I’m never rude. ‘Not at all,’ I lied. ‘We all have off days,’ although of course I rarely did.

‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’ she asked, dabbing at her nose with the tissue.

‘That would be lovely but I’m afraid I have an appointment.’ This was only a half-lie as my cleaner was coming at ten and I always liked to be home to make sure she did her allotted two hours. I’d caught her leaving ten minutes early once.

Natalie nodded and smiled. There was an awkward pause as if she was waiting for me to say something, possibly ask her what was wrong, but I wasn’t going to do this. I barely knew her and I had a policy never to get involved with strangers’ problems. People loved to be so dramatic these days, longing for others to notice them, to affirm their existence with a ‘poor you’ or a Like on Facebook. It was all very needy. I don’t want to sound harsh but I can’t bear needy people.

Happily, there was a tap on the car window. It was our postman and he was smiling in at Natalie. He was one of those men who insist on wearing shorts whatever the weather and he always seemed to be tanned and relentlessly cheerful. I couldn’t recall his name until Natalie opened the passenger door and greeted him.

‘Hey Jim. How are you?’

‘Fine, thanks Nat. You look a bit down. What’s up?’

I took this as my signal to escape. ‘I’ll let you get on then, Natalie,’ I said.

She turned her head towards me. ‘Okay then. Thanks for the lift, Caroline,’ she replied, climbing out of the car. She shut the door with a slam. Again. ‘Sorry,’ she winced, holding up a hand in apology.

I smiled and shook my head, pretending it didn’t matter before driving off. I glanced at Natalie and Jim in the rear-view mirror. They were already deep in conversation as he handed over a pile of letters, his face creased with concern. Natalie was obviously unloading that day’s drama. I couldn’t believe that she would be telling her troubles to the postman. The world had gone mad.

As I reached home and opened the front door, I exhaled with relief – another crisis averted. I noticed a plug of fluff hanging from the bottom of the radiator. I made a mental note to ask Rosie to give them a good clean and check the skirting boards while she was at it. I always took pride in keeping a clean and tidy house. Appearances are everything, after all.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_fd8991d3-65c7-5ab5-98ed-bc2c81058bf2)

NATALIE

‘So are you sure there isn’t someone else involved?’ asked Ed.

‘I’m as sure as I can be,’ I replied.

‘Has he actually said that though?’

‘Woody asked him.’ Ed looked surprised. I sighed. ‘I know. He came round so that we could tell Woody what was happening and it was only when he said it, that I realised I’d forgotten to ask.’

‘You forgot to ask?’

‘Don’t judge. I was really busy being very, very angry.’

Ed shrugged. ‘Fair point. So what did he say?’

‘He did the reasonable Dan thing, denied it vehemently, told Woody how much he loves him, that it’s not his fault, that he’ll be there for him whenever he needs him and that he’ll be staying at his mum’s for now. Blah, blah, textbook reassuring estranged father stuff.’

‘How did Woody take it?’

‘He asked for a biscuit.’

Ed surveyed the almost-empty tub of brownies. ‘Takes after his mother. Has Woody talked to you about it since?’

I shrugged. ‘Not really. I don’t think eight-year-old boys do heart-to-hearts and, to be honest, he probably doesn’t know what to think. I know I don’t. I keep wondering what I did wrong, searching my brain for the moment when it all went belly-up.’ I reached for another brownie.

‘You won’t find the answer in the bottom of a carton of cakes.’

‘Hmm, what about a tub of salted caramel ice cream?’

‘Na-ah.’

‘Jar of peanut butter?’

‘Food of the devil – definitely not!’

‘Shame, because that has basically been my diet since Dan left.’

‘Well, I have to say, you’re more together than I thought you would be.’

‘I did cry in between dropping Woody at school and you arriving.’

‘But you’re not crying now.’

‘I could start at any minute.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll slap you if you do.’

I laughed. ‘What would I do without you?’

‘Don’t start – you’ll set me off.’

‘No, seriously, Ed. I needed a dose of your straight-talking no-nonsense today. Thank you.’

He grinned. ‘Any time, sweet-cheeks. So what are you going to do?’

‘I’m sort of waiting for Dan to tell me what he wants.’ Ed grimaced. ‘What?’

He shrugged. ‘Just that I’m a bit surprised, that’s all. I thought you’d be firing up the sass machine, fighting for yo man, getting a little fierce, sister!’ He clicked his fingers and fixed me with a head-swivelling look.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Once more in English, please?’

‘You know what I’m saying, Nat. You’ve got to stand up and fight for your man!’

‘Who am I fighting? According to Dan, there’s no-one else involved.’

‘Which makes it so much easier! Think about it. You’ve been married for like a hundred years, haven’t had sex for six months.’

‘More like nine,’ I muttered.