“That sounds jolly grand.” Kitty beamed. “Let’s try and win, shall we?” She went over to Mrs. B. “Go on, Mrs. B., you’ll help us, won’t you?”

“I suppose I may as well give you my support,” she sniffed petulantly. “Only because it’s for the war, mind you.” I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay away, although she stepped haughtily back to the choir stalls like they smelled of horse manure, shooting Mrs. Tilling a look of disgust.

Prim sifted through a pile of sheet music and began to hand it around. “Righty-ho. We’re going to start with a new piece for the competition.”

The sheets went around, and we all shuddered.

“?‘Ave Maria,’?” she began, “is a prayer to the Virgin Mary, calling for her divine help in a time of war. I have arranged the piece especially for our choir. Are we ready to try it?”

We gave it the best shot we could, then she took each part through, first the sopranos, then the altos. I could tell that Prim was delighted.

“You see, you made the most glorious sound. I have no doubts now that, with some more practice, we will make it work wonderfully. We can stand together and strong and be a force to be reckoned with.”

At the end, Prim mentioned that if anyone would like to try a solo, she should step forward to audition.

“There are two verses in the arrangement, so two different voices are required. Do we have any takers?”

Kitty was there in a trice. “I’ll do it!”

I couldn’t let Kitty have all the glory, so I stepped forward, too. “I’m sure I can give it a good go.”

Prim waited a few minutes, then raised her voice over the throng. “How about you, Mrs. Tilling? Don’t you think you have voice enough to share with the world?”

She blushed, picked up her handbag, and came over. “Do you really think I could?”

“Well, that’s up to you,” Prim said. “You certainly have the voice. But do you have the nerve?”

A flush went over Mrs. Tilling’s gaunt cheeks.

Prim went over and had a word with Mrs. Quail at the organ, then returned to us.

“We’re going to hear you sing the first verse one at a time.” Mrs. Tilling looked like she might faint, while Kitty simply couldn’t wait.

“Kitty, why don’t you go first?” Prim said, and motioned to Mrs. Quail to start playing.

Kitty sang like she was on stage in front of several thousand adoring operagoers. She raised her eyes to the ceiling when hitting those tricky high notes, and even did that awful warbling sound. It was ghastly.

“Bravo,” Prim gushed at the end.

And I wondered if she was being tactful until Mrs. Tilling joined in. “What a beautiful voice you have, Kitty!”

Kitty grinned in an infuriating manner.

I was considering backing out, except Prim quickly decided it was my turn, Mrs. Quail already playing the introduction.

I sang as well as I could, stumbling over a few words, and not hitting the top notes quite as well as Kitty. But really, my voice is so much nicer than hers. Much more natural sounding.

At the end, Prim and Mrs. Tilling gave a small round of applause and agreed that I had a lovely mellow voice. Kitty looked smugly on, thinking she’d won.

Then it was Mrs. Tilling’s turn, and we know that she sings terrifically well, has done since we can remember. Without her the choir would have been in a lot of trouble. She sang perfectly in tune, all the words right, never wavering from her enchanting alto tone.

“Wonderful, Mrs. Tilling,” Prim said. “The perfect voice for one of our solos.” Then she looked at me, the inevitable coming. “And I’m afraid, Venetia, that I’m going to pick Kitty this time. We’ll need some extra work, and I imagine she has a lot more time than you do, with the War Office job.”

“Yes, you’re completely right,” I said. “I shouldn’t have auditioned really as I don’t have any spare time these days. Maybe next time.”

And with that, seeing Kitty delightedly jumping up and down in the corner of my eye, I got my coat and walked majestically out of the building.

Since then Kitty’s been lording it over me ad nauseam. Silvie and I had to retire to my bedroom to escape. I did her hair up beautifully while she tried on my lipstick. She’s such a sweet creature.

On that note, I must away to get my beauty sleep. I will let you know how my plan to get Mr. Slater proceeds. Success will be mine.

Venetia

Saturday, 27th April, 1940

The Question of Venetia’s Virginity

Why is it that just when you think you know how everything works, something explodes right under your nose and you have to rethink it all through? There was I, merrily going through life thinking that no one did anything except perhaps one or two kisses before they got married, and then, boom! I see the whole act unfold in front of my very eyes.

Things I would dearly like to know

Was Venetia as pure as the driven snow, as we’ve always been taught to be?

Will she have to marry Mr. Slater now?

Will this mean she’ll stop playing her evil games with Henry?

Does anyone else do this before they’re married?

Will I have to?