Chapter 9

Clive's eyes filled with sudden tears.

Mrs Beechcroft stopped speaking and looked at him in amazement.

"What's wrong?"

Clive slowly got up and brushed his hand across his eyes.

"It's - nothing."


His body shook a little and he slowly sank back in the chair, looking awestruck.

She came and knelt next to him, looking alarmed.

"What is it love?"

He composed himself with an effort.

"Your voice..."

"What's wrong? Didn't I get it right?"

"It's - perfect. It's silvery and bewitching and alluring" he sighed.

"I'm so glad."

He smiled at her. He considered her for a moment. She was wearing a gorgeous sky blue dress today that had a silver edge. Her long straight black hair hung loose around her shoulders.

Clive sadly shook his head. "It's not enough though."

He dejectedly put his chin in his hand and stared into space.

"What do you mean it's not enough?"

"You're still not..." he broke off and stood up. He turned away.

"Still not what?" She put her hand on his arm. He wrenched it away.

"Nothing. Forget it."

She was surprised at his sudden anger.

Brushing his hand across his eyes again he turned away stiffly and walked towards the window. He looked out unseeingly without speaking for a long time.


He ignored her.


"Eventually however he turned.

"Well done". He spoke grudgingly. "That was very good. I'm sure Michael will be impressed. I was."

"What happened to you? Earlier?"

"I had a lapse in concentration that's all" Clive replied stiffly. "I must have worked too hard. Anyway, I am glad your voice is the way I want it now."

Mrs Beechcroft still looked concerned. Clive walked foward and patted her on the shoulder.

"Nothing to worry about silly. Women shouldn't mother guys too much. They hate it."

Mrs Beechcroft laughed. "I'll try not to."

He switched off the light.

"Coming darling?" He started going upstairs.

"Yes" she said quickly and followed him upstairs.

The End

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