Page 26 of Never Too Late to Date

‘Is all this really necessary? Can’t we just turn on the background music and get on with it?’

‘No!’

The shout rebounded off the walls of the abandoned mansion that Suzie had agreed was a great practice venue. Suzie looked like Vicky had suggested they slaughter some lambs with their bare hands, rather than just sped up the process somewhat.

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout. But the warm-up routine is vitally important if you don’t want to damage your voice, particularly for someone like me who’s been out of the game for so long.’

‘Okaaay.’

The thought that Suzie was nowhere near as confident as most of the world assumed she was had occurred to Vicky more than once. Her friend gave off such a cool air, but she’d been allowed a glimpse behind the curtain at the real Suzie, the one who was nervous as hell about what she’d agreed to. And now it was her role to keep things calm and on track, a role she’d had most of her life in one way or another, as a nurse, a wife and a mother. What if she wanted to wig out too? Was there space for that in the friendship? Or was she always destined to be the sensible one? There’d certainly never been any space for her to indulge her emotions at home.

Strange burbling noises were coming out of Suzie’s mouth, followed by little yelps of notes that ranged from high to low and finally something Vicky strained to hear. She moved closer.

‘Am I going mad, or did you just say, “Peter Piper picked a piece of pickled pepper,” followed by “She sells seashells by the seashore”?’

Suzie grinned.

‘Tongue twisters are an important part of the warm-up.’

‘Blow me down. I never knew that.’

Vicky reached into her rucksack. ‘Any objections to me eating my lunch now?’ She tried to hide a smile with her hand. ‘Or will it disrupt the delicate vocal balance?’

‘Very funny. No, you munch away.’

The odd sounds emanating from Suzie started to mould themselves into recognisable words and phrases as Vicky’s delicious cheese and olive sandwich, homemade with fresh bread from the bakery, went down a treat. The cheese was a San Michali, made with local cow’s milk, which had some of the texture and flavour of Parmesan and tasted even more yummy.

The orange she’d picked for dessert was so ripe the juice dripped down her chin. By the time she’d demolished it, Suzie was belting out one of her well-known numbers for all she was worth. Vicky closed her eyes for a moment and just took in the powerful sound.

By the end of the song, she’d been effortlessly transported back to her youth.

‘Bravo!’

Vicky leapt to her feet and hugged her new friend.

‘That was amazing. So powerful. Well done, you.’

‘Really?’

Suzie’s uncertain smile tugged at her heartstrings. She’d heard that actors and performers were often insecure or shy underneath all the hype, but she’d not seen it up close. Suzie hadn’t been on a professional stage for nigh on forty years, but she was more than ready.

‘Yes, really.’

Vicky pointed at a row of bemused sheep waiting patiently in a line behind the barbed wire.

‘Look, even they enjoyed it. Now take a break and have something to eat.’ Vicky reached into her bag for another sandwich. ‘I made it specially for you.’

Suzie made her index fingers on both hands into a cross and held it up in front of her as if warding off evil.

‘Is that cheese?’

‘Only the island’s finest.’

‘Cheese is the devil for singers. Clogs everything up.’

‘I’ll take that as a no, then.’

‘Sorry.’ Suzie smiled her best smile. ‘Can I have the bread and olives on their own though? I’m starving.’