When I Fall In Love. Miranda Dickinson

This choir can be whatever we want it to be.’

      ‘Sweet. See you next Wednesday.’

      Stan and Irene shook Elsie’s hand. ‘Lovely evening,’ Irene smiled. ‘Most unexpected, but lovely.’

      ‘I hope you’re ready for our vocal delights, girl,’ chuckled Stan.

      ‘I’m looking forward to experiencing them.’

      Daisy joined Elsie by the door as the last of the choir members filed out into the chilly night. ‘Do you think that went well?’ she asked, clearly not all that convinced that it had.

      ‘I think so. I suppose we’ll find out next week.’

      Walking home, Elsie took a deep breath and looked up at the starlit sky. The night might not have taken the course she was expecting, but it felt good nevertheless. Positivity seemed to sparkle around her as she walked: the lights from the homes she passed were brighter, the night sky was a beautiful midnight blue and her heart felt lighter than it had for years.

      ‘This choir could well be the making of you, Elsie Maynard,’ she said to herself.

      CHAPTER FIVE

       Hello again, hello …

      It was still dark when Elsie awoke next morning, pools of light from the streetlights outside her windows pooling in through the half-closed curtains in the bedroom of her Victorian terraced house. The dream from which she had stirred was the same that had brought her to daylight many times before: not a nightmare as such, more a captured moment of time playing on a perennial loop in her subconscious. She had dreamed it so often that it was strangely comforting now, almost reassuring in its reliability. There were never any words, only sensations. Oddly enough, the locations regularly changed, but the essence of the dream remained constant: the touch of a hand on hers followed by a tiny squeeze – barely perceptible to the naked eye but as powerful as a one-hundred-thousand-volt shock. And then, nothing but the feeling of being suspended in a pitch-black void, as if hanging above the earth before the lights of morning appeared. At first, Elsie had been unnerved by the dream but now it was an accepted part of her new life: a last vestige of the past to remind her of how far she had come.

      Slowly rising from sleep-tossed sheets, she padded down white wood-stained stairs to her kitchen and leant against the beechwood countertop as the kettle bubbled up into life. She rubbed her eyes and caught sight of the list of possible choir songs she had scribbled on the back of an electricity bill by the phone hours before. Instantly, she felt her heart lift as the thrill of potential struck her like it had last night walking home from the choir meeting.

      There was a mixture of material – from well-loved musical numbers to a smattering of recent chart songs and a couple of choir classics she remembered singing at school. Woody had, of course, suggested a few that she had so far successfully avoided – including an intriguing medley of Blue Oyster Cult ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’ and Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed a Girl’, performed to a stomping glam rock-style beat. Something told Elsie that Brighton, however bohemian it liked to appear, wasn’t quite ready for that musical delight to be unleashed …

      She made tea in a mug Guin had made for her and smiled as she read the legend in vivid pink paint-strokes surrounded by blue and orange flowers:

      Do it, or Elsie!

      It was a bad joke, typical of her sister’s humour – but this morning it assumed a feeling of greater significance. Taking her tea back upstairs, Elsie sat on the side of her high, iron-framed bed and reached over to pick up the silk-covered box from her bedside table. Lying on top of the pile of papers inside it was the next message:

       I love you because you love surprises xx

      Not all surprises, Elsie thought. Some surprises I could live without. As she sipped her tea, watching the dawn begin to peek over the rooftops of her street, she couldn’t have known how timely her thoughts would prove to be …

      As soon as she arrived at Sundae & Cher, Elsie knew that something was up. For a start, Cher was already in, which was most unlike her, and had uncharacteristically restocked the ice cream cabinet – a job normally reserved for Elsie on account of the fact that Cher disliked lifting the bulky tubs from the freezer. This task completed, Cher now appeared to be pacing the kitchen floor.

      Elsie smiled as she entered the kitchen. ‘Morning. Is everything OK? Only I didn’t think seven-thirty a.m. existed in your vocabulary.’

      ‘It doesn’t, usually. But I thought I’d break with tradition today,’ she replied, fiddling with a box of sugar sachets and failing in her attempt at nonchalance. ‘I had that new batch of Kiwi and Gooseberry to mix downstairs and there’s a ton of Cookie Dough waiting for you to work your magic on. Not right now, obviously. Just – um – whenever you’re ready.’

      ‘Right.’ Frowning slightly, Elsie passed Cher to put her coat and bag in the cupboard by the back door. ‘I’m going to check the freezer stock levels downstairs.’

      Cher’s guilty smile did nothing to remove Elsie’s growing suspicion. ‘Absolutely. Yes. Great idea.’ She paused as if to say something else, then clapped her hands. ‘In fact, I’ll come down with you.’

      ‘Fine.’ Leading the way, Elsie walked to the stairs at the back of the kitchen that led to Sundae & Cher’s ice cream lab in the small basement of the café. The smell of vanilla filled the air as she entered the chill of the basement and Elsie momentarily forgot Cher’s strange behaviour as she revelled in the magic of the room. She loved it here: not just because of the sweet aroma or large industrial mixer (the sight of which always brought out the kid in her, reminding her of standing on a stool next to Jim learning how to use the food processor on one of their many Saturday baking sessions), but because this place signified the heart of Sundae & Cher. This was where the magic happened – taking a basic ice cream mix and adding weird and wonderful ingredients to create brand new taste experiences.

      She opened the door of the enormous freezer cabinet and began to count the stacked tubs inside. ‘Looks like we’re running low on Vanilla. We should probably get another batch made today.’

      ‘I’m on it. We can’t be running out of our top-selling flavour, can we?’

      Elsie lifted out two heavy tubs of pale green gelato. ‘Is this the new flavour?’

      ‘Yes. Mixed it earlier. Good, huh?’

      ‘I think this is going to be really popular,’ Elsie replied, turning to Cher. ‘It might be an idea to put one of them out straight away. Shall I swap it for one of the regular flavours today and see how it sells?’

      ‘Yes. Good. Er – actually, before you do that, there’s something you should know …’

      Elsie ignored the tightening in her stomach. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Now don’t be mad at me, but I might have just maybe, set you up on a date …’

      ‘Cher …’

      Cher shrugged apologetically. ‘I know, I’m sorry. I just happened to be chatting with an old friend of mine and she mentioned that her brother would be fun for a date – if you were interested, of course.’

      ‘Well, that’s very kind of you, but right now I’m not really in a position to …’

      ‘Of course. I mean, no pressure, obviously. Although I did tell her that we were going to The Feathers for a drink after work this evening.’

      Elsie felt her backbone bristling. ‘I might not be able to make it.’ She picked up one of the tubs and began to ascend the stairs.

      Cher followed her with the other tub, hurried past her in the kitchen and stood across the entrance to the café, blocking Elsie’s way. ‘Actually, I think you should.’ Her forthright assertion was fatally undermined by her uncertain expression.

      ‘You