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

She hadn’t wanted anything to do with me back then so why should I bother now? I didn’t need her. I had carved out a life away from this ageing and decay. I didn’t need it in my life. I could simply drive away and not come back.

      And yet, there I remained. Silently cursing my indecision. Why couldn’t I just leave? Go back to the order and harmony of my real life? There was a tap on the glass and I jumped in surprise at the sight of Laurie’s concerned face. I wound down the window.

      ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I just couldn’t take seeing her like that.’ It sounded as if I cared and I felt immediate guilt for being disingenuous.

      Laurie gave me a reassuring smile. ‘Of course. It’s very hard sometimes. Do you have any idea what brought it on?’

      I shook my head. ‘We were just sitting, looking out into the garden. I saw someone I knew – Guy Henderson with an elderly lady in a wheelchair.’

      Laurie nodded. ‘Mrs Henderson has only recently arrived at the home. Sometimes, people with dementia react badly to change, a new face or someone who reminds them of something from their past.’

      ‘I only met Guy this week, so there’s no connection between my mother and his.’

      Laurie smiled. ‘Well, your mother is much calmer now, so we’ll monitor the situation and keep in touch, okay?’

      ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Thank you so much.’ I gave her a final wave before starting the car and driving off, feeling relieved that my mother was someone else’s problem for the time being, tucked away where I didn’t have to think about her, her illness or the pain of the past.

       Run away, Caroline. Run back to your place of safety and don’t look back.

      I switched on the radio. They were playing ‘Weather With You’ – a Crowded House song that Oliver and I used to sing along to while we were decorating the house at weekends. I turned up the volume and sang at the top of my voice, drowning my worries with happier memories.

CHAPTER SEVEN

      NATALIE

      ‘Mum! Pizza’s ready!’ yelled Woody.

      ‘Okay,’ I replied. ‘Just finishing up.’ I glanced back at the blinking cursor. I’d always thought that would be a good name for my writing memoir – The Blinking Cursor by Natalie Garfield. I smiled. I was in a good mood tonight. I was about to officially embark on the campaign to get Dan to fall in love with me all over again and I was excited.

      I practically skipped down the stairs. I felt like a natural woman, every woman and a woman in love. Choir had obviously had a positive effect on me. We had a rehearsal tonight and I was in two minds as to whether I would go. The next hour would decide that for me, depending on Dan’s reaction to my surprise.

      I had contemplated telling Doly about it when I popped into the shop earlier but she wasn’t on her own so I decided to keep it to myself for now.

      ‘Are you going to choir tonight?’ she asked with a smile.

      ‘I’m planning to,’ I replied. ‘Have you been practising?’

      ‘Only all the time. Never stops singing, this one,’ said a man who was carrying a box from the back of the shop. ‘She has the voice of an angel,’ he added, his eyes glittering with pride.

      Doly beamed at me. ‘This is my husband, Dev.’

      ‘Pleased to meet you,’ smiled the man.

      ‘Oh, is this your singing thing?’ asked another, younger man, who was re-stocking the fridge. I could see a family resemblance to Dev. His dark-brown eyes twinkled with amusement. ‘I bet it’s all Abba and Spice Girls – a zigazig ahh! Am I right, brother?’ he added, glancing at Dev.

      Dev laughed but then noticed his wife glaring at him and adopted a serious face. ‘I’m sure they sound wonderful,’ he replied diplomatically.

      Doly rolled her eyes at me. ‘Pay no heed to my fool of a brother-in-law,’ she declared.

      ‘I’m Hasan,’ said the young man, wiping his hand on his jeans before offering it to me.

      I grinned. ‘Good to meet you,’ I said, accepting it.

      ‘And you,’ he replied, smiling, holding my gaze for a few seconds.

      ‘Right, stop harassing my customers,’ said Doly, shooing him away before turning back to me. ‘Sorry about him. He likes to flirt with all the pretty ladies,’ she added.

      I felt a bit giddy as I walked home. I had been called pretty, received attention from a handsome young man, all without brushing my hair.

       I’ve still got it and it’s only a matter of time before Dan realises this too.

      I walked down the hall into the kitchen, humming the tune to ‘Everybody’s Changing’. Guy had sent us a list of songs he wanted to try along with the music files so that we could practise. I loved this song. It reminded me of when Dan and I were first married, before we had Woody – simpler times. Not happier necessarily. Just simpler and more carefree.