Luke felt nervous as he walked into the school building in Bangor, his stomach griping and growling. It was a long time since he’d done anything like this. What if I can’t sing anymore? It was a distinct possibility and he turned to go back out of the door, bumping into a woman coming the other way, who’d been rummaging in her handbag and hadn’t noticed him.

‘Christ, I’m so sorry,’ she said and smiled. She had perfect teeth, he noticed, olive-coloured skin and very shiny dark hair, which swung round her face in a shoulder-length cut, a fringe shading brown eyes. She was tiny, with a delicate frame; even in heels she only came up to his shoulder. Just like Anna, he thought, his heart pumping so hard it hurt for a moment.

‘No, no, my fault.’ Luke looked over her shoulder at the door and his escape route.

‘Are you here for the choir?’

Luke hesitated, told himself to stop being such a wuss and smiled at her. ‘That’s right. I thought I might be in the wrong place.’

‘No, right place. We’re down here.’ She pointed down the corridor and now he was trapped, obliged to go, which was good, because his mum would have been disappointed if he’d gone home early.

It was just over a year since Anna had died and now the anniversary had passed, his mum had been trying to encourage him to move on with his life.

‘You need a hobby, Luke. Something to take your mind off things. Something that’s just for you. Nothing to do with the kids. And –’ she’d checked behind her to make sure they weren’t overheard – ‘something to give you a bit of space from Ted.’

He’d jumped at the idea and decided to start with singing. He’d loved singing when he was younger and he thought it might be a good way to get rid of some of the emotions that filled him to bursting, threatening to overflow whenever he was around his cousin. His mum was right, he decided, and maybe if he had a bit of time doing something just for him, the farm might not feel quite so claustrophobic.

Luke smiled to himself now, excitement thrumming in his belly as he followed the woman, noticing the confidence in her walk, sensing a lively presence about her that seemed to fill the corridor. They entered what must be the assembly hall, with a stage at one end and a piano in the corner.

She turned and gave him a beaming smile. ‘Silly me, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? Just left you following along like a lost puppy! I’m so sorry. I’m Mel.’ She held out her hand.

‘Luke.’ Her handshake was firm and warm, no nonsense, which he liked. He could smell her perfume, not overpowering, just a floral scent in the background. Clean and wholesome. Nice.

‘So, we’re a bit sexist here. Men are over there.’ She pointed to the opposite side of the hall, where half a dozen men stood chatting. ‘Women over here. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Geraint, our choir master. He’ll sort you out with the song sheets.’ She gave him that wonderful smile again. ‘What do you sing, by the way?’

‘To be honest, I haven’t really sung since I was at school and my voice hadn’t broken then.’ He shrugged, gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’s going to be a bit of a surprise to everyone, including me.’

Mel laughed. ‘Well, you can guarantee it won’t be as high as me. I’m soprano all the way.’

The choir master welcomed him with enthusiasm, the men being outnumbered by the women by at least two to one. ‘We’re all out of balance,’ Geraint said with a shake of his head. ‘Let’s hope you’re a strong tenor. Ours aren’t the youngest and their voices have seen better days.’

Luke looked at the huddle of men gathered at the right-hand side of the stage. Ten of them now and apart from a young man in his twenties, the age range did seem to fit in the pensioner bracket, whereas the women were a complete mix of ages. Mel had settled herself in the front row of the ladies’ group and when he caught her eye, she smiled and gave him the thumbs up. He smiled back, a burst of heat making his cheeks glow.

Over the course of the evening, it was surprising how quickly he found his voice again and it was, indeed, a tenor. The music swelled through him, smoothing the rough edges of his ragged emotions, and after a couple of songs, he started to relax. They were singing a mixture of gospel and pop anthems, many of which he knew. But he could read music, so even the songs he didn’t know weren’t too much of a problem.

‘Final song,’ Geraint said after what seemed like ten minutes, but was really an hour and a half. ‘Luke, I wonder if you’d do the solo on this one? “You Raise Me Up”. You must know it?’ He peered at Luke over the top of his glasses. ‘If you’d come down to the front here. And Mel, if you do the other solo? You know how it goes, don’t you?’

Mel nodded and walked over, so they were standing facing each other. She winked at him, eyes shining. She really is a gorgeous woman, he thought, and before he knew what he was doing it, he winked back. His heart was pounding. It must be twenty years since he’d sung solo, but he’d done a lot of it at school and had competed at the local music festivals, the Eisteddfodau. This was no different, he told himself, and took a few deep breaths as Geraint played the introduction, then he gave the song everything he’d got, his voice blending with Mel’s harmonies like sugar and spice.

When they finished there was silence for a moment and then an enthusiastic round of applause. He was tingling from head to toe and felt like he’d grown six inches taller. That was brilliant, he thought. Absolutely bloody brilliant. Mel took his hand and started bowing, like they’d done a proper performance, hamming it up, and he joined in, his cheeks flushed, and for the first time since Anna had died, he felt a flutter of happiness rise up in his chest, like a bird taking flight.

‘Do you fancy a drink?’ Mel said when they were all packing up. ‘A few of us go to the pub after practice. You’d be very welcome. Get to know some of the others.’

‘Oh, um, I should probably get back,’ he said, quickly. Then he wondered what the rush was. The rest of his family were at home and given that it was half eight, the kids were probably already tucked up in bed. Mel gazed at him, her large brown eyes clear and bright and he found he couldn’t look away. He smiled. ‘Okay then, why not?’