The choir nods, sorts through their sheet music in preparation.
Evelyn looks at me expectantly. ‘Right, the solo, Clara.’
My face burns and my knees go weak. I just don’t have the confidence anymore. It feels as though I’m wearing my skin inside out – everything is far too painful, too raw.
I clear my throat. ‘Evelyn, I… I don’t think I should sing the solo today.’
Evelyn frowns, glances between me and the choir. I know she’s wondering how to handle this delicately in front of everyone. She knows my confidence isn’t the best and has worked so hard to bring me on. She smiles sympathetically, turns her attention quickly back to the choir. ‘Susan, would you do the honours?’
Understandably, Susan looks thrilled at the opportunity.
And as Susan’s voice echoes out through the crypt, it seems as if my entire life is leaving me behind. But I don’t even feel envious. All I feel is relief. My mind is occupied with self-loathing, which is a meaty mode of operation. There’s no room for wondering if Susan’s better than me. I don’t care. If only I hadn’t been so utterly daft. I never have sex with a man on a first date, and last night wasn’t even a date! What an idiot I’ve been.
Once again, I try to focus on the melody, to lose myself in the familiar words of ‘Amazing Grace’. But each note only reminds me of what I’ve lost. By the time we reach the chorus, and the entire choir is supposed to come in, tears blur my vision and I start to sob. Everyone is looking at me. I can’t do this anymore and make a break for the door.
There’s a small garden in the churchyard. It’s supposed to be a place of reflection and peace. I throw myself down onto the wooden bench dedicated with a small plaque to a guy named Tony. He’s just going to have to budge over, although I’m not sure I’m going to be good company. Today I may be doing the reflection, but I’m not so sure about the peace.
‘Clara?’ I hear Evelyn’s voice behind me. She reaches out gently and touches my shoulder before sitting beside me. Her face is full of concern. ‘Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.’
I choke back a sob. ‘You don’t understand, Evelyn. I’ve made such a mess of things. And now…’ I gesture helplessly at the choir. ‘…I can’t even sing solo here anymore, and I’d worked so hard to get there.’
‘It’s not important,’ Evelyn says firmly. ‘You have worked hard. This is not a problem. Everyone has setbacks. Next week, you’ll be fine. The important thing is, even if you take a few steps back, it doesn’t mean you’re heading in that direction permanently. You’ll get your confidence back and start moving forward again. I promise.’
I wipe my eyes with the edge of my sleeve. ‘It’s been tough at work. I’ve been an idiot, actually.’
‘So.’ Evelyn shrugs.
‘I left a door open, the office got burgled.’
‘Ah.’ Her tone changes. ‘Did they take anything valuable?’
‘Guitars, and it threw the audition log into chaos.’ I sigh, unsure how much to tell Evelyn.
‘And?’
How is it that everyone knows when I’m trying to hide something? ‘I recorded my own voice. Left it in the office. Marco Delagado, the head of the company, he heard the recording and now he’s obsessed with finding the voice.’
Evelyn frowns. ‘Your voice.’
I nod. ‘But…’ My shoulders rise in an expression of true hopelessness. ‘…I can’t tell him it’s me because–’
‘Of the stuff that’s been stolen.’ Evelyn exhales a long, low breath. ‘That is a mess.’
‘Oh, it gets worse,’ I say miserably. ‘I slept with him too.’
Evelyn chews her top lip. ‘Hmmm.’
‘Exactly.’ I feel like a hopeless and very silly child. ‘What do I do now?’
She rubs her hands over her skirt, flicks her nails as if thinking. ‘Probably own up to having left the door open, and, I mean, is this a relationship?’
‘Marco,’ I scoff. ‘No. After I slept with him, he just walked off.’
‘Bastard!’
I feel totally shocked. Evelyn is a churchgoing chorister. Bad language is not in her repertoire.
‘You think?’
