doing jolly well, considering we only took over here last back-end.’
‘You’re right, so you are.’ Anna managed a grudging smile. ‘Sure, the Lord’s been good to us and I mustn’t forget it. And thank you for the tickets, Joe,’ she added, to his surprise. ‘Yes, I expect we’ll enjoy a night out, your Daddy and me. So long as you and Dan hold the fort for us.’
‘Now, don’t they always?’ said Thomas. ‘We couldn’t have two better sons.’
‘You’re right,’ said Anna again. ‘Two grand lads, so they are.’ Just so long as we toe the line, thought Joe, listening to the exchange of words between his parents. His father was always ready to stick up for them, but his mother was not quite so fulsome in her praise of himself and Dan. He shuddered to think of her reaction should one of them try to oppose her.
‘That’s her,’ said Joe, nudging his brother as Madeleine Moon came onto the stage. ‘That girl I was talking to; Maddy, she’s called. She’s pretty, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, very…’ replied Daniel. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Some flibbertigibbet – as his mother might say – with brassy blonde hair and a cheeky grin. But this girl was not of that ilk at all. He leant forward in his seat to get a better view, although the seats were very good ones; five rows from the front and in the centre.
‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,’ she began. ‘I would like to sing for you an old Irish song…’ She nodded to the pianist at the side of the stage who played just one note. Then the girl began to sing, unaccompanied.
‘I know where I’m goin’
And I know who’s goin’ with me;
I know who I love,
But the dear knows who I’ll marry…’
Was she Irish? Daniel wondered. Her voice had a lovely lilting quality with just the trace of an accent that could be of Celtic origin; but maybe it was just her interpretation of the song. She was billed as ‘Yorkshire’s own songbird’, and that was certainly true. There was not a murmur in the house as the audience listened, enraptured, to the sweet-toned lyrical melody ringing out across the rows of seats. She stood motionless, her hands clasped gently in front of her, a charming picture in her simple dress of cream-coloured silk and lace, which fell to her ankles, her golden hair,worn loose, waving softly almost to her shoulders.
There was a silence for a few seconds when she stopped singing, and then tumultuous applause. Dan and Joe clapped as loudly and enthusiastically as anyone.
‘She’s good, isn’t she?’ Joe nudged his brother again. ‘It might’ve been better with the piano though, don’t you think?’
‘No, I don’t.’ Daniel shook his head. ‘Not at all. Hush now…’ He knew that this type of song, a traditional air, was meant for the voice alone, especially for such a thrilling voice as he had just heard. Now the girl, Madeleine, was going to sing again.
‘And now for a complete contrast…’ She smiled at the audience, and this time the pianist struck up with the strains of a song that they all knew.
‘In the twi-twi-twilight,
Out in the beautiful twilight…’
she began to sing.
As she said, it was a complete contrast to the previous song, but just as well received by the audience. She revealed in this number that she was not only a sweet and demure young girl, but that she had vitality and more than a spot of gaiety and humour. And Dan decided that she was not Irish; she most probably hailed from Yorkshire. She raised her hands, inviting the audience to join in with the second chorus.
‘…and many a grand little wedding is planned In the twi-twi-light.’
They sang with gusto, applauding wildly as the girl curtsied and tripped off the stage, then reappeared to take a final bow.
‘That was good,’ said Joe. ‘I liked that song better than the first one. That was what she was like when she was talking to me, all happy and friendly.’
‘Yes, she certainly does seem to be
‘You’re right, so you are.’ Anna managed a grudging smile. ‘Sure, the Lord’s been good to us and I mustn’t forget it. And thank you for the tickets, Joe,’ she added, to his surprise. ‘Yes, I expect we’ll enjoy a night out, your Daddy and me. So long as you and Dan hold the fort for us.’
‘Now, don’t they always?’ said Thomas. ‘We couldn’t have two better sons.’
‘You’re right,’ said Anna again. ‘Two grand lads, so they are.’ Just so long as we toe the line, thought Joe, listening to the exchange of words between his parents. His father was always ready to stick up for them, but his mother was not quite so fulsome in her praise of himself and Dan. He shuddered to think of her reaction should one of them try to oppose her.
‘That’s her,’ said Joe, nudging his brother as Madeleine Moon came onto the stage. ‘That girl I was talking to; Maddy, she’s called. She’s pretty, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, very…’ replied Daniel. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Some flibbertigibbet – as his mother might say – with brassy blonde hair and a cheeky grin. But this girl was not of that ilk at all. He leant forward in his seat to get a better view, although the seats were very good ones; five rows from the front and in the centre.
‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,’ she began. ‘I would like to sing for you an old Irish song…’ She nodded to the pianist at the side of the stage who played just one note. Then the girl began to sing, unaccompanied.
‘I know where I’m goin’
And I know who’s goin’ with me;
I know who I love,
But the dear knows who I’ll marry…’
Was she Irish? Daniel wondered. Her voice had a lovely lilting quality with just the trace of an accent that could be of Celtic origin; but maybe it was just her interpretation of the song. She was billed as ‘Yorkshire’s own songbird’, and that was certainly true. There was not a murmur in the house as the audience listened, enraptured, to the sweet-toned lyrical melody ringing out across the rows of seats. She stood motionless, her hands clasped gently in front of her, a charming picture in her simple dress of cream-coloured silk and lace, which fell to her ankles, her golden hair,worn loose, waving softly almost to her shoulders.
There was a silence for a few seconds when she stopped singing, and then tumultuous applause. Dan and Joe clapped as loudly and enthusiastically as anyone.
‘She’s good, isn’t she?’ Joe nudged his brother again. ‘It might’ve been better with the piano though, don’t you think?’
‘No, I don’t.’ Daniel shook his head. ‘Not at all. Hush now…’ He knew that this type of song, a traditional air, was meant for the voice alone, especially for such a thrilling voice as he had just heard. Now the girl, Madeleine, was going to sing again.
‘And now for a complete contrast…’ She smiled at the audience, and this time the pianist struck up with the strains of a song that they all knew.
‘In the twi-twi-twilight,
Out in the beautiful twilight…’
she began to sing.
As she said, it was a complete contrast to the previous song, but just as well received by the audience. She revealed in this number that she was not only a sweet and demure young girl, but that she had vitality and more than a spot of gaiety and humour. And Dan decided that she was not Irish; she most probably hailed from Yorkshire. She raised her hands, inviting the audience to join in with the second chorus.
‘…and many a grand little wedding is planned In the twi-twi-light.’
They sang with gusto, applauding wildly as the girl curtsied and tripped off the stage, then reappeared to take a final bow.
‘That was good,’ said Joe. ‘I liked that song better than the first one. That was what she was like when she was talking to me, all happy and friendly.’
‘Yes, she certainly does seem to be
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