Perhaps a little gentle push here and there would help, she thought.
She’d had a good life, a full one, and before she died, all she wanted to see was Lily finding her true path wherever that might take her.
Violet went to her little bureau and pulled out a bundle of letters in envelopes. None of them sealed yet. Yes, she would have to write another one soon, but not yet. Things weren’t in their right places yet.
She leafed through the letters, reading them and smiling at the memories. The last would be wonderful, a final chapter in her story but only just beginning for Lily, and Violet couldn’t wait for everything to come together finally.
11
The curtains in Lily’s bedroom opened wide, letting the early morning light illuminate the ceiling’s fading glow-in-the-dark stars. She woke with a start, as though she had forgotten something and then she remembered the night before.
The events of the night replayed in her mind like a movie dream as she lay there, gazing at the familiar plaster cracks.
Jessica had sung after her and it seemed as though she was she was furious with Lily for going first. Jessica sang a song from the musicalWaitress, which was pleasant, but she had a thin voice, cracking a little and without any passion or emotion, and Lily wondered if Jessica’s voice would make the week-long run of the big musical. It was a musically sound voice but she needed some good voice lessons to let the sound come out, and some decent performance advice, she thought, but it wasn’t her job to help Jessica.
However, she was very beautiful, Lily thought – more Audrey Hepburn in the movie than Julie Andrews, the original Eliza on West End, but the interpretation was missing the heart and soul that Eliza Doolittle required. Lily couldn’t help but think of Julie missing out on the film role to Audrey because Audrey was considered more beautiful.
After she had sung, Nick had a little furrowed brow and his applause seemed more muted than enthusiastic for Jessica’s performance, and then a few auditions later, Nick sang his piece.
Lily closed her eyes and let his tenor voice wash over her. As he passionately sang ‘On the Street Where You Live’, Lily had felt a chill run up her arms. His comments resounded throughout the entire hall, causing Lily to forget she was in a village town hall and not in a theatre in London.
He was so good he could have been on stage professionally, she had thought to herself as he’d finished the song.
After everyone sang, they had more tea and cake and a chat, but Lily noticed Jessica only spoke to Sheila, while occasionally shooting poisonous looks at Nick and Lily.
Nick had driven her home and they hadn’t talked about Jessica because she didn’t want to know. That was one night and it showed her that her voice still worked, thatLes Miswas an anomaly, and that was more of a relief than she could express.
‘You up, dear?’ She heard Gran’s stick knock on her bedroom door.
‘I am now,’ she said to herself and got out of bed and opened the door.
Gran was dressed in her blue floral robe.
‘I’ll have a shower, and then we can have breakfast and talk about last night. How was Nick?’ Gran said, a sparkle in her eye. ‘Did he serenade you?’ She clutched the front of her robe as though in love.
Lily couldn’t help but laugh at Gran’s cheek.
‘Gran, don’t be smart with me, young lady. He’s just a new friend while I’m here.’
‘Get a brew on and tell me everything,’ Gran said as she shuffled to the bathroom.
‘Do you want a hand?’ she asked but Gran waved her away.
‘No, I’m fine thank you very much,’ she said. ‘If I can’t bathe myself, then I will know it’s time to call for my maker to take me the big stage in the sky.’
Lily pulled on a sweater over her nightgown and slipped on a pair of thick socks and padded downstairs. It was still fresh for late May and she hoped the sun would come soon and warm up for summer.
She set about making tea and toast as Mr Mistoffelees came sauntering downstairs and sat on the back of the sofa.
‘I suppose you’ll be wanting breakfast also,’ she said to the cat who looked at her expectantly.
She sang a few lines from the song last night and thankfully her voice was back.
‘That was a scare wasn’t it?’ she said to the cat who flicked his tail at her.
She fed the cat and made herself some tea and drank it with the back door open as she looked at the garden and a small blackbird busy digging for worms.
‘Close the door – it’s freezing,’ said Gran as she came down the stairs.
