Page 14 of All The Wrong Notes

“You’re very good,” Elise said at last, breaking the silence.

Will was still gaping in awe. “I didn’t know you sang.” That was probably one of the more stupid things he had ever said.

“I am in the choir. The Echoes aren’t just a pick-up group.”

“Y— yes, of course,” he stumbled. “They’re excellent. But this… You didn’t sing like this the other night, with the guitar.”

Her voice then had been very pretty and pleasant, a good choir voice, made to blend, as it did with Janet’s sweet soprano and Carlos’ rich tenor. Pretty and pleasant, not this rich contralto that had poured from her soul.

She laughed. “That was my inside voice. If I’d known you were here… I thought you were working, that it was the sound system, that someone left the music on. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“I took voice lessons in high school,” she added after a moment.

“You didn’t study music at university?” That was a reasonable sentence, wasn’t it? She didn’t look upset or angry. Thank heavens.

“No. I love music, but I don’t have the drive to make it a career. I did my undergrad in Arts Administration at university, and then an MBA. That’s what led me to the Queen City Arts Centre. I wanted to bring art to the community, and I had the background to do it. But you? You didn’t learn to play like that at business school. I really thought it was a recording.”

His face grew hot as she peered at him. “Thanks. All those years of enforced piano lessons as a kid were good for something.”

Elise walked around to his side of the keyboard and stared for a few moments at the keys, and then at his hands, which now felt huge and clumsy under her gaze. “I would have pictured you as playing Chopin, not show tunes.”

A challenge! This he could meet. He shot her a cheeky grin and then settled his fingers on the keys. He loved this etude, with all its notes, flowing like water down a rocky stream, bubbling and skipping its ever-playful way down to the cadence. He stopped after a few bars, feeling like a mischievous elf.

“Chopin is a meal,” he said. “This, the jazz, is dessert. Not just dessert, but the sort of dessert that satisfies you so you don’t want anything else till morning. And we all love dessert.” But this… an idea came to him, fully formed. “Do you know more? Or did you just happen to know the words for this one?”

She nodded. “I’ve sung most of the standards. I think I remember a lot of the words. What did you have in mind?”

He thought for a moment, then started playing something by Cole Porter.

“Yes, of course. ‘Miss Otis Regrets’.” She hummed along with him as he repeated the intro, before launching into the lyrics, matching him again in tempo and expression.

It was wonderful to play like this, and with such a responsive singer. What a delight it would be to spend hours like this, just the two of them, and the music. It was a pity they would be packing up tomorrow to go back to real life in the city. He wanted the music never to end.

* * *

Elise couldn’t stop her smile as she finished the last note of the song. Whoever would have imagined that Will was such a talented and sensitive musician? Singing with him was a joy.

“Lovely,” he breathed, his face livelier than Elise had seen it. “Your voice… You should be on stage. Did you ever want to perform?”

She grinned at him. “Oh, yes. All the time. I love it, I love sharing music. But I do the next best thing, and bring music to kids. And I sing with the choir, of course.”

“Come and sing with me!” His voice filled with excitement. She stared at him. “I play, not for proper concerts, but seniors’ residences and long-term facilities. There are about ten of these places I go to, and do a short performance once every few months, maybe about three quarters of an hour. Not too long. They’d love you, if you’d like to join me. There’s no pay. It’s all volunteer work. But they are so appreciative, and I love being able to give something back, if you know what I mean.”

The words had tumbled out. She had never seen Will this animated.

“You… you volunteer?”

How did this fit with the picture that Kevin had painted? People who robbed charities didn’t then turn around and volunteer hours and hours of their time, in her experience. He couldn’t get anything out of this, other than personal satisfaction.

“Yes. I have since I was young. Call it noblesse oblige, if you want, but I know I am very fortunate. I’ve been taught, I’ve always found it important, to give as well as take. Donations are important, of course, and a lot of places really just need money, but if I can also brighten people’s lives with a bit of music, it is time very well spent.”

Had he heard her thoughts? All Elise could do was blink at him.

“Will you? Will you think about it? When I put one of these performances together, it’s usually three afternoons a week for about three weeks. Are you able to take the time? We can arrange early evenings, if that’s better, but we have to organise that around dinner time.” He shrugged.

“No. Yes. I mean yes. I would love to. But…”

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