Beauty Chorus, The (37 page)

The maître d’ took Evie to one side as she walked to her table.

‘Miss Chase, your father thought you might like to sing.’

‘He did, did he?’ Evie raised an eyebrow. ‘Is my stepmother with him?’

‘No. Mr Chase has a friend with him tonight.’ The band played the closing bars of ‘Stardust’. Peter saw her shaking her head, but before the dancers had time to leave the
floor, Fat Tim turned to the microphone.

‘Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome a young lady we always love to play with, Miss Evelyn Chase!’

‘Oh, very well,’ Evie said reluctantly. The maître d’ guided her to the bandstand. As she stepped in front of the chrome microphone, she looked out across the dark room,
the spotlight dazzling her.

‘Thank you, Tim,’ she said. ‘I’d like to sing one of my favourite songs from
Right This Way.
’ She caught Leo’s eye. They had often listened to the tune
together. He raised his glass to her and smiled sadly. He knew she must be thinking of Megan as the band launched into the tune, and Evie began to sing:

‘Well I never.’ Beau looked up from the bar and turned to see her perform. Her rich, clear voice soared with the opening melody. It made the hairs rise on Beau’s neck like a
caress.

‘How do you know her?’ The blonde eyed Evie curiously.

‘She’s the one I was telling you about.’ He leant back against the bar.

‘Marvellous voice.’

‘Yes.’ A smile twitched on his lips. ‘It’s what I love about her. Full of surprises.’

Evie sang her heart out, her voice rich with emotion and loss. Beau felt like she was looking directly at him.

As the song ended, she bowed, and left the stage to cheers and clapping.

‘Excuse me for a moment,’ Beau said to his companion.

‘You won’t be long will you?’ The blonde touched his arm.

‘Would I abandon you in a place like this?’ Beau kissed her on the cheek.

She raised her glass to him. ‘Tally ho, Alex.’

The club was packed, and Beau searched in vain for Evie. Finally he went to her table. Peter was just putting on his overcoat and leaving a tip for the waiter.

‘Where’s Evie?’ Beau asked.

‘She said she had to leave, she’s rather cut up.’ Peter said. ‘I asked her if she wanted a lift but she said she had a train to catch. She’s going to Wales for
Megan’s funeral tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Funeral? Christ, I had no idea.’ His face fell. After Peter had filled him in on the details he shook his head. ‘Bad business. Poor Evie, they were very close.’ Beau
looked at Peter. ‘Tell me, are you and she …?’

‘Evie? We do have a little bet. If she’s not engaged by the time she turns twenty-one in November then we’ll get married.’

‘November,’ Beau said quietly. ‘Listen, Peter, could you do me a favour? You see that delightful blonde girl at the bar?’

‘I’ll say.’

‘Would you mind escorting her home to Eaton Terrace? I have to sort out a couple of things.’

Peter straightened his bow tie. ‘Not at all. Won’t she mind? I mean she came with you, sir.’

‘I think you’ll find my sister delightful company.’ Beau patted him on the back, and made his way out of the club.

40

The birds did not know that they should not be singing so joyfully. They did not know that the world was at war, and that Megan was being buried that day.

‘It should have been me,’ Stella said tearfully as they stood before the plain pine coffin in the little chapel in Wales. ‘It was my flight. It should have been me.’

Evie slipped her arm around her friend. ‘No. You must never think that,’ she said. When she looked at her friend’s red-rimmed eyes, she saw her own grief and guilt reflected
there. Organ music played softly, and the chapel smelt of chrysanthemums. It was full to the gallery, people talking in low voices as they waited for the service to begin. Evie reached out, touched
the warm wood of the casket with her hand. She laid down a simple arrangement of white flowers and placed a pair of gold ATA wings beneath them. ‘Goodbye, Megan,’ she whispered, tears
brimming in her eyes. The girls turned and walked down the aisle to their seats. Evie saw Bill in the front pew, his head bent in sorrow next to a grey-haired couple she guessed must be
Megan’s parents. The man had his arm firmly around his wife’s shoulders, his head held resolutely high.

As they waited for the service to begin, Evie heard the metallic tap of military shoes on the chapel’s tiled floor.
One of ours
, she thought.

‘May I?’ Beau stopped at their pew, and the girls squeezed up to let him in.

He looked at them both. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Sir? I didn’t expect you to be here,’ Evie whispered. Her hand was close to his, his hip pressed against hers. As he leant to talk to her, her hair brushed his cheek.

‘Peter told me last night, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. It was the least I could do to come and pay my respects. I helped train her.’ He gazed up at the coffin. ‘She was
a lovely girl.’

The organ fired up, and the congregation stood. ‘Where’s your friend?’ Evie asked.

‘Friend?’ Beau whispered.

‘From the 400.’

Beau’s face relaxed. ‘I left her in London.’ Evie glanced up at him as they began to sing, her clear voice joining the powerful male voices of the choir, soaring to the
rafters. The Methodist priest walked out in front of the altar, the vicar of White Waltham and Michael at his side.

‘Look!’ Evie nudged Stella. Above the heads of the congregation, Stella’s eyes met Michael’s.

As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Megan’s mother wept quietly. Evie couldn’t believe that was their friend, lovely irrepressible Megan, in the coffin. Her
throat constricted as she thought of her on her birthday night, Megan’s laughter as they had helped her get ready. She remembered her face when she unwrapped Evie’s present, her
excitement at having her first pair of beautiful evening shoes for her date with Peter.
Our lily of the valley
, Evie thought as she hung her head, unable to stop the tears rolling down her
cheeks now. She glanced up at Bill, his face contorted with grief, and wondered if she should tell him that Megan had loved him, that she had talked of coming home to him.
No, it would just make
it harder
, she thought.

The congregation filed out of the churchyard past Megan’s parents. ‘You must be Evelyn and Stella.’ Rhodri shook their hands. ‘Megan told us so much about you. Your room
is all ready for you.’

‘Are you sure it’s no trouble? We could stay in the village.’

‘Wouldn’t hear of it.’ Rhodri squeezed her arm.

‘You will come back to the house, won’t you?’ Nia said to Beau.

‘Of course.’ Beau shook her hand. ‘I am sorry for your loss. Megan was a brave girl, and an excellent pilot.’

‘Thank you.’ Her grief-stricken face lifted and shone with pride.

As Beau, Evie and Stella worked their way down the line of mourners, Stella came face to face with Michael. ‘Hello, Stella,’ he said awkwardly.

‘Michael. I’m so glad you’re here.’

‘Are you?’ He held her gaze as they shook hands.

‘Yes, Megan was awfully fond of you.’

He took his hand away, a hurt look in his eyes.

‘It was the least we could do,’ the vicar cut in. ‘Such a tragic loss. We’re keen to support our brave men and women at White Waltham any way we can,’ he explained
to the minister.

‘It’s always a pleasure to welcome other faiths to our chapel on occasions like this.’ The young minister patted him on the back. They turned and walked towards the cars.
‘You’ll be coming up to the house won’t you now?’

‘I don’t know.’ Michael looked across at Stella. ‘It’s a long drive back …’

‘You’re not going back tonight, I won’t hear of it!’ The minister stopped him. ‘There’s a bed for you both at my house. Drive back in the morning.’

Evie found Beau talking to Pauline. ‘Hello, Commander Gower,’ she said.

‘What a tragedy,’ Pauline shook her head. ‘Poor Megan.’

‘Do they know yet what caused the crash?’ Stella asked.

‘Mechanical failure. Nothing Megan or anyone could have done about it.’ Pauline pulled on her gloves. ‘I must be getting back I’m afraid. Hatfield called just before the
funeral, there’s some flap on as usual.’ She looked at the girls, the dark shadows under their red-rimmed eyes. ‘Look, why don’t you take a day off tomorrow rather than
taking the train first thing? Get some rest. You’re no good to me in this state,’ she said gently. ‘Beau, you have a car don’t you?’

‘Yes, Commander.’ He indicated a black Jaguar SS. Ace was lolling in the passenger seat, his head hanging out of the window.

‘Could you drop the girls at the airfield on the way back to your squadron?’

‘It would be a pleasure,’ he said. He took Evie’s arm as Stella trailed behind, talking to Pauline. ‘Well done,’ he said. ‘That must have been ghastly for
you.’

Evie nodded mutely. ‘It was very decent of you to come all this way, sir.’

‘As I said, it was the least I could do for Megan.’ He paused as he opened the car door. ‘And for you.’

Evie sat next to Beau as they drove along the coast road, sunlight dancing on the surf below them. ‘It’s beautiful here,’ she said. ‘It reminds me of
the Med. I can just imagine Megan as a little girl, running wild …’ She blinked away fresh tears. ‘What happened to your motorbike?’

‘It’s at the base. I must be getting old,’ he said. ‘Didn’t fancy racing halfway across the country on it with a German Shepherd riding pillion, so I borrowed this
from my sister.’

Ace reached over from the back seat and licked Evie’s face. She turned and stroked the dog. ‘You have a sister?’

‘My “friend” at the 400.’ He glanced at her, a smile playing on his lips.

‘She’s very beautiful.’ Evie tried not to show her relief. ‘When I saw you at the club, I thought …’

‘If I didn’t know any better I would have said you were jealous, Miss Chase. That was quite a performance last night.’

‘It wasn’t for your benefit, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she said coolly. A warm sea breeze lifted Evie’s hair as they drove. ‘I thought perhaps
you’d finally tired of Olivia.’

‘I have. I ended things with her after that scene in Henley. I heard from one of the chaps that he saw her deliberately push you in—’

‘So you broke up with her?’

‘Not only because of that. It made me realise how immature she still is.’ He turned to Evie. ‘She never did like sharing her toys.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Evie said, as her heart skipped in her chest.

‘Don’t be. I should have broken it off months ago. Olivia is still refusing to accept it’s over, but as far as I’m concerned, it is.’ He glanced at Evie’s
profile. ‘I’m a free man.’

Stella sat in the back next to Ace, pretending to take in the scenery, one eye fixed on the minister’s car bumping along behind them. She could make out Michael’s
silhouette, his square jaw as he turned and spoke to the minister. The cars parked in the farmyard.

‘Oh, this is lovely,’ Stella said as she clambered out of the back seat. ‘It reminds me of my in-laws’ place in Ireland.’

‘Really?’ Michael said coldly. She turned to him.

‘Not that I remember much, I only went there once—’ she started to say, but it was too late, he had already walked on into the house.

The farmhouse was subdued but bustling with visitors, cups of tea on every surface, sandwiches and cakes piled high. Staffordshire pottery crowded the mantelpiece above the range, with red
geraniums spilling down over lace doilies. A gentle hum of voices, Welsh mingling with English, filled the air. Evie spotted Bill sitting in a corner, a pint of beer in his hand. From his ruddy
cheeks she guessed he had been drinking steadily all day.

‘Hello again,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry. Megan loved you very much.’

Bill glared up at her, glassy eyed. ‘Love? What would someone like you know about love?’ He rose unsteadily and pushed past her.

‘What did she see in him?’ she muttered crossly.

‘The man’s grieving,’ Beau said, reaching for a beef sandwich.

She followed Bill’s path outside. He stopped in front of two men – one short and fat, the other tall and scrawny with wire-framed spectacles. Within moments, an argument started.
Bill pushed the fat one, and the scrawny one laid into him. Rhodri stormed outside.

‘Do you have no respect?’ he roared. ‘This is my little girl’s funeral!’ His voice broke. Nia ran out to him, put her arms around him. ‘No, no it’s
alright.’ He composed himself and turned to the men. The scrawny one let go of Bill’s collar and dusted himself down. Bill whistled for the dogs and set off across the fields alone.

‘I am sorry,’ Rhodri said to the gathering, and the murmur of conversation resumed.

‘Imagine,’ a woman nearby said in a low voice. ‘Now Megan’s gone, surely he’s not going to leave the farm to Bill?’

‘No,’ another woman gossiped, ‘it’ll go to the cousins for certain.’

‘So that’s who they are,’ Evie whispered to Stella. ‘Remember those creeps Megan was always talking about? The ones trying to get the farm away from her after her brother
was killed?’ She looked over at Megan’s mother, her lovely sorrowful face, and wondered what on earth it was like to lose both your children. ‘I could do with some air,’ she
said. ‘How about you? We could take Ace for a walk.’

As they stepped into the yard, she saw Beau deep in conversation with Michael, the dog sitting obediently at his side. She slipped her arm through Stella’s. ‘Hello boys,’ she
said. ‘Fancy a walk? Megan told us there’s an airstrip around here somewhere on the farm. Why don’t we give her a proper send off?’ She flashed them a bottle of champagne
she had brought from home to toast Megan. Michael glanced uncertainly at Stella but fell in step as Beau walked with the girls.