The Wedding Cake Tree (20 page)

‘
Don’t give it a moment’s thought. Alasdair explained the situation and it’s no problem.’

I felt like a
failure. Simon began to speak. His words and enthusiastic persistence reflected his age.

‘
Oh, Grace, were you going to sing? This lady has an amazing voice, Alex.’

Simon
turned to me, his expression one of a pleading child.

‘
Please
sing, Grace. Sarah would love it.’

I twitched for a couple of seconds while Alex
chided Simon for hassling me. Respectful of his injury, I remembered Alex had been to Mum’s retreat, and I knew in an instant the true message Mum was desperate to pass on to me. It was as though she was standing behind me, wagging a finger and saying, ‘Grow up. Some things are more important than your pride, Grace.’

‘
You know what Alex, Simon’s right. I really should sing something for you today.’

Alex’s face
lit up.

‘
Are you sure?’

‘
Of course I’m sure. Do you still want me to sing
Amazing Grace
?’ I prayed he was going to say yes, I could sing it in my sleep.

‘
That’s the one. Let’s keep it as a surprise for Sarah though.’ Alex’s face became less cheerful all of a sudden. ‘Oh, I meant to say, I was sorry to hear about Rosamund. She was a wonderful lady.’

‘
Yes, she was. But enough of that,’ I added brightly, ‘I need to rehearse. Alasdair said you’ve hired a band or something, but I only need a pianist.’

‘
The band is setting up in the ballroom. Come on, I'll show you.’ He wheeled towards the ballroom. I followed on behind mouthing ‘bye’ to Simon.

‘
Also Alex, at what point would you like me to sing?’ I placed my empty champagne glass on a passing tray.

‘
While we’re signing the register was the original plan.’ He turned the handle to the ballroom and pushed the heavy door open with his chair. ‘Is that okay?’

‘
Yes, no problem.’

No problem?
What the hell had I done?

‘
Come on then,’ he said, smiling, ‘let’s introduce you to the Sergeant Major. He’ll be pleased you’re going to sing.’

‘
Er, Sergeant Major?’

Alex didn’t answer
; he didn’t need to. On entering the ballroom my confusion transformed into a rude awakening. I grabbed a handle and halted his chair somewhat rudely as he tried to push towards the band. ‘Alex, is this
the
Royal Marine Band?’

‘
A few of them, yes. Who else would we have?’ He twisted his torso to look at me. ‘Didn’t Alasdair tell you?’

‘
No,’ I said quietly, ‘funnily enough he didn’t.’

T
he Sergeant Major started towards us. He looked brusque and I instantly regressed ten years back to the Academy.

‘
Sergeant Major!’ Alex exclaimed, ‘Great news. Grace – you know, the opera singer – has made it after all, so it’s back to plan A.’

We shook hands
and I winced at the thought of being described as an opera singer.

‘
Wonderful news. Typical woman,’ he said, ‘changing your mind, but wonderful all the same.’ We walked towards the bandsmen who had taken a break from warming up their instruments when I entered the room. Alex turned his chair to leave but I called after him, a sudden thought preoccupied my mind.

‘
Oh, Alex, just one thing.’

‘
Yes?’

‘
About Alasdair, he’s busy doing his best man thing. If you tell him I’m here, he’ll probably come to find me and I have this quirk about not wanting to be disturbed when I’m rehearsing, so …’ He nodded and carried on towards the door. ‘Also Alex, sorry to be a pain, but could you put Simon on sentry duty at the door, to stop people coming in?’

Alex
smiled. ‘Yes, I’ll get someone to stand at the door and no, I won’t tell Alasdair you’re here. You two need your heads banging together by the way.’

The S
ergeant Major interrupted by barking an order from across the room.

‘
Right, let’s give it a run-through,’ he said. The bandsmen returned to their seats and began to prepare for rehearsal.

‘
Yes, I suppose that’s exactly what we should do.’

I positioned myself off-
centre to the front of the band and looked down the length of the room. Row after row of empty ballroom chairs stared back at me, and the smell from several bouquets of lilies made my stomach churn. I heard the rustle of paper as the Sergeant Major announced the song. He turned towards me.

‘
Ready when you are. Give me the nod and we’ll start.’

I
continued to gaze down the room. There was simply no way I could do this. My hands were soaked but I didn’t want to wipe them on my beautiful new dress.

‘
You all right love?’ He asked, trying to chivvy me along. ‘Only it’s 1310, and we really need to crack on.’

I
glanced across at him despairingly. Noticing my distress he stepped over to speak a little more privately. He waited for me to explain.

‘
The thing is,’ I whispered, ‘I haven’t sung professionally for nearly a decade, I haven’t had the time to warm up my voice, and I feel physically sick at the thought of singing to over a hundred people.’ He sighed and put a hand to his forehead.

‘
Why the hell did you say you would do it?’

‘
I have no idea. The thing is, I do desperately want to sing, it’s just the getting going bit I find so difficult.’ I looked at him imploringly, my eyes full of anguish. His expression, however, was fairly blank.

‘
Look, I’ll tell you what,’ he said. ‘You nip through to the anteroom – it’s through that little door there.’ He pointed to a door at the far side of the room. ‘No one will disturb you in there. I’ll send my man Stiles through to give you some notes to help you warm up for ten minutes and then we’ll have a run-through.’

‘
Thank you, that will probably help.’

I started towards the door but the Sergeant Major had some last words
for me. His expression was severe, his voice a little harsh.

‘
We’ll give it a run-through at 1320 sharp. If you’re good enough, I’ll tell you. If you’re not, I won’t let you sing. Understand me?’ I felt like a schoolgirl.

‘
Yes, Sergeant Major.’ I scuttled out of the room. Stiles, the cornet player, entered the anteroom with a smile, said nothing and began to play some scales. Towards the end of the warm-up session I gazed through French doors towards the lawn and the loch. Red jackets and fancy hats merged on the grass. One particularly broad-jacketed man with a fine pair of pins caught my eye. The man turned round to speak to one of the guests. It was Alasdair, of course it was; no other man could make what was effectively 1980s ski-pants look so damn attractive. I smiled to myself whilst running up and down the arpeggio; the tone of my singing voice improved by smiling.

Looking
towards the water I remembered our time at Loch Garten. I remembered focusing on the water and letting all other thoughts leave my mind. Finally, I remembered Alasdair’s words, to think of singing as something to be done, not for myself, but for the pleasure of others. I closed my eyes, ran through the scales and thought of nothing but the sound of my own voice, my breathing, my heartbeat.

The door opened.
It was the Sergeant Major. I didn’t look at him but strode into the room and took my place in front of the band. He waited for me to start. I glanced across at him and spoke. My voice was firm and strong.

‘
I’d appreciate it if you played it adagio. Slow, soft and with great feeling, thank you.’ They sat up straight, Sergeant Major tapped his baton and the music began. It was time to wake up, to grow up. I could bloody well sing like a star and I was not going to be cast aside by a Royal Marine Sergeant Major.

Three minutes later and the rehearsals were over.
To the audience,
Amazing Grace
should sound simple and moving. As the performer, however, there is a great deal to consider, particularly the pace, and it is easy to come across as shrill when changing scale. I looked towards the Sergeant Major and waited for his decision. His face was as straight as a pole.

‘
Best mezzo we’ve ever played for. You’re in. And no more of this nervous diva stuff or I’ll tan your backside.’ The bandsmen burst into applause. They had known I was nervous and their faces were warm as they clapped.

‘
Thank you, Sergeant Major. I’m going to wait in the anteroom while the guests filter in. I’ll pop back just before two.’

‘
Okay, Dame Kiri.’

I returned to my perch by the windows and decided to try the mindfulness trick again. My eyes blurred and I fixed my gaze on my reflection in the window – my hair needed some desperate attention and a fresh coat of lipstick was begging to be applied. Relaxation was important, but not as important as looking good in front of Alasdair: I dashed to the powder room.

Freshly preened, I
placed my ear against the door to the ballroom – it sounded packed. Nausea washed over me; only five minutes until Sarah appeared. There was no backing out. I stepped into the room.

From my seat
by the band I could see Alasdair’s side profile. He and Alex were sitting side by side – he looked more nervous than the groom. His foot tapped on the floor and he rubbed his temple. I was pleasantly surprised to see him behaving in such a way; he was usually annoyingly unflappable. He turned his head and shoulders to look about the room. What he couldn’t see, therefore, was Alex’s face looking up at him. His friend’s expression was one of absolute affection. Alasdair’s gaze found mine and relief washed through his face as he smiled at me, but then he raised his hands and furrowed his brows questioningly. I shrugged as if to say, ‘what’s up?’ but then our silent movie gestures came to an end with the sound of Stiles’ cornet. The bride had arrived.

It was perhaps
the most emotionally charged ceremony I had ever attended. As the music began, Alasdair helped Alex to his feet and passed him a pair of crutches. The bride looked beautiful, angelic and blissfully happy as she drifted down the aisle, and I was spellbound with the emotion of the vows. The registrar announced they were man and wife; they kissed, we clapped and the newly married couple took their seats at a table to sign the register –
to sign the register!
I was on.

The Sergeant Major actually smiled at me as I took my position.
I didn’t look at Alasdair but smiled at Alex and Sarah and rallied every last scrap of self-composure in an effort to look relaxed, capable and professional. I fixed my gaze on a waiter who was standing at the far end of the room. With a final deep breath, I nodded, and the music began.

The fi
rst twelve bars are the hardest, then you’re home and dry. I passed them by and realised I was enjoying myself. I wasn’t thinking of technique or assessment or what other people thought of me but simply enjoyed the music.

As
I held the last note I allowed my eyes to fall on Alasdair. His gaze was so enraptured I couldn’t help but smile, and I realised, right then and there in my Hollywood moment, that I had fallen head over heels in love with him. What on earth would my mother say?             

A
fter just a few moments the groom led the way with a thunderous applause and I felt a wave of relief rush to the tips of my toes. It was over. I had enjoyed it, but I would be in no hurry to do it again. I turned to the Sergeant Major and mouthed, ‘Thank you’. He had tears in his eyes –
surely not
.

The wed
ding continued with a poignant reading. Then, with a final lingering kiss and yet another round of applause, the bride jumped onto the groom’s knee and Alasdair wheeled them both out of the ballroom and into the anteroom. The crowd followed on behind and I mingled in, embarrassed to receive great swathes of attention and compliments.

W
ith the exhilaration of the performance still ringing in my head, I entered the anteroom with the single-minded purpose of finally speaking to Alasdair. He was helping Alex down the steps and onto the lawn. Sarah was distracted by a crowd of ladies who chatted excitedly.

Alasdair
beckoned me to join them. We faced each other in silence over Alex’s wheelchair. Alex looked from Alasdair to me and then back again. He was shaking his head.

‘
For goodness’ sake, will one of you say something or just kiss and make up?’

I shrugged my shoulders as if to say,
well, I’m game if he is
. Alasdair leant forward and kissed me tenderly on the cheek. I blushed. Alex turned to me. ‘That was wonderful, Grace, can’t thank you enough. I’m sure Sarah will gush all over you as soon as she’s finished being mobbed. Actually, I think I’ll go and rescue my wife right now, excuse me …’