Lucy dashed over to greet them. ‘Morris! Thank you so much for doing this!’
He laughed. ‘It’s the least we could do for our new singer.’
Soon Morris took centre stage to announce, ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, may I introduce to you the Bloomsbury Big Band, with special guest singer Miss Lucy Jones.’
The crowd cheered as Lucy stepped into the middle of the stage. ‘I’d like to dedicate this first song to Queen Elizabeth! May her reign be happy, prosperous and long.’
As she began the first few lines of ‘You Are My Lucky Star’, a great cheer went up. Everyone pulled one another to their feet, coming to the dance floor to join the celebrations.
The words flowed from her effortlessly as her eyes met Caroline’s and Miranda’s in the crowd. It wasn’t just the queen’s moment, it was a time for all of them, and as she watched them, dancing with Annabel, she knew that she’d found the best set of friends in the world.
After that, Lucy sang a number of favourites, ending with one or two slow ones, including ‘Smoke Gets in Your Eyes’. It had played that night in the jazz bar, and she wanted to sing it, make it her own.
After a few more songs, Lucy felt it was time to address the audience. Not used to public speaking herself, she looked at Miranda, who urged her on. ‘I just want to say a few words.’ She drew a deep breath as everyone hushed. ‘It’s wonderful that we’re all here today, celebrating together. Because what do we have if not our families and friends, the people with whom we share our grief and celebrate our joys.’
Everyone cheered, raising their glasses to one another.
‘I haven’t been living in Camden for long, but being here, being part of our street, has become special.’ She met Betty’s eyes. ‘I know where I belong, and if I venture too far, I know it remains inside me.’
Another cheer went through the crowd before Lucy finished. ‘Now, I would like everyone to raise their glasses to the new queen! Long live Queen Elizabeth!’
‘Long live Queen Elizabeth!’ everyone chanted, standing and raising their glasses high in the air, followed by three cheers and a resounding chorus of ‘God Save the Queen’.
After an extra chorus for good luck, Lucy announced that she and Morris were going to sing a duet. He handed his saxophone to one of the others, and she motioned for the band to begin the introduction.
A smile beamed over Lucy’s face as the band played the first notes of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ to huge applause. Her voice was perfect for the old jazz numbers, and when he looked into her eyes, she shivered with a warm electrical thrill, the spark between them undeniable.
But as the smile on her lips grew wider and the heat built up, she decided that she wasn’t going to rush into anything.
This time it washerstory, and one she wanted to savour. Who knew where her life could lead? For now, all she wanted was to bask in the heady delight of the moment: the rhythm of the music, the connection in Morris’s eyes and the stars in the sky, sprinkling a kind of magic through the night.
The crowd swayed to the music, some doing the old swing steps, others moving gently as they held one another, carried away by the celebrations and the music. Miranda and Sinclair were dancing together, laughing because Miranda knew all of the dance moves, ofcourse, and Sinclair knew none. Annabel was twirling around with the ‘archbishop’. Watching on, Caroline and Betty sat beside the dance floor chatting with the other ladies.
From the stage, Lucy could look down the whole street in all its coronation finery, a few latecomers joining from work or other events, making their way down to the festivities. It was home to her now, this street where she lived. It might not be a country estate or a glamorous flat in Chelsea, but she couldn’t imagine that these grand addresses were having such a fun street party. This was where she belonged, and she’d never try to put it behind her, not in a million years.
One of the latecomers stood at the end of the street, watching for a while before he made his way towards them, silhouetted by the streetlights. Something about his height, his gait, looked familiar, and as he approached, his dark-auburn hair came into view.
Lucy gasped. The words of the song caught in her throat, and she gazed over at Caroline, who, dumbfounded, struggled to her feet.
It was Angus.
CAROLINE
HER HEART POUNDING,CAROLINE WATCHED AS ANGUSdrew up to the crowd of revellers, his eyes scanning the crowd until he saw her.
And a distant memory came back to her, of him leaving for the war, his bag in his hand, the same image only fourteen years before, but this time, he was here, arriving.
He was coming back to her.
And before she knew what was happening, she was racing through the crowd, and he strode towards her, dropping his bag as he rushed forward.
Everything seemed to have stopped, the music fading away as Caroline drew to a halt in front of him.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, a few feet apart, suddenly shy, cautious.
Every time she’d been with him, she’d had to hold herself back from touching him.
But now her marriage was over, the divorce papers drawn up.
