And before she could do anything about it, half a dozen pairs of hands, including Flint’s, had bundled her up on to the stage, and six seconds later she was standing over the microphone shielding her eyes from the glare of a spotlight that she hadn’t even realized was there until that moment.
‘Give her a huge round of applause, everyone.’
Ana looked blindly into the crowd. Thirty-odd people suddenly looked like three hundred. A two-foot rostrum suddenly felt like a vast Wembley-esque stage. Expectant faces beamed up at her and she didn’t recognize any of them. She tried discreetly to get off the stage, but hands kept appearing from everywhere to push her back on. She turned round to Lol. ‘I can’t,’ she mouthed.
‘Yes you bloody well can,’ she replied, turning her back towards the microphone.
‘But I don’t know what to sing.’
‘What’s your favourite shower song?’
‘My what?’
‘What do you sing in the shower?’
‘God. I dunno. Loads of different things.’
‘Well. Pick one. Tell the band what it is. And then sing it. You can sing it backwards if you like.’
‘Backwards?’
‘Yes. Facing away.’
‘Oh God. This is horrible Lol.’
‘Yeah. It is. At first. But once you get going, you’ll be addicted. I promise you. Now. What d’you want to sing?’
‘God. I dunno.’ She bit her lip and looked at Lol, desperately. Every fibre of her being was telling her to get off the stage. Now. Every brain cell she possessed was shouting at her to get off immediately before she made a gigantic tit of herself. But then a little voice started talking to her. The little voice who remembered all those nights she’d lain in bed fantasizing about a moment like this, wondering if she’d be up to it, dreaming about having the sort of life where she’d even be asked to do this in the first place. And here she was, finally, at the ripe old age of twenty-five, being given the opportunity to sing anything she liked with a band of professional musicians in front of a friendly crowd at her sister’s wake. She took a deep breath and said the first thing that came into her head, What about … “Time Will Pass You By”?’
‘What?’
‘Tobi Legend.’
‘Who?’
‘Northern Soul classic.’
‘Never heard of it.’ She turned to consult with the band. ‘OK,’ she said, turning back to Ana, ‘theyhave. You’re on.’
She winked at her and suddenly the drummer was tapping out the rhythm and suddenly the intro was playing and suddenly Ana was facing the crowd and suddenly she was singing. Fuck. How had that happened? She was singing. She was breathless at first, her voice slightly weak and quavery, but within the first few bars she was just … singing. In front of people. She didn’t look at them as she sang. She looked at the dartboard. She looked at a poster on the wall for a pub quiz. And all the notes came out properly. And she even started dancing a bit. And half-way through the song she actually forgot she was singing in public and just concentrated on getting the full meaning of the song from her soul to her lungs and to her lips. All she was aware of was the lyrics and how apt they were and how much she wished Bee could have been out there listening to them … and then suddenly she was bowing and it was over and everyone in the room was going mental. A huge smile split her face in two and Lol grabbed her and hugged her and Flint leapt on to the stage and buried her in a bearhug and held her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. Her heart raced with adrenaline and her face was flushed with heat and excitement. Oh my God. She’d done it. After all those years of fantasizing. All those years of dreaming. She’d got up on stage in front of people and she’d sung. And it wasbrilliantOne of the best feelings she’d ever experienced. She beamed at the crowd, who all cheered her on. She turned to Lol. ‘What about a duet?’ she whispered.
Lol nodded and hugged her again. ‘ “Suspicious Minds”?’ she said.
Ana nodded enthusiastically.
The band started up again and the two of them launched into the song, Ana providing the harmonies. This time it was even more enjoyable and by the time the song finished and the crowd started shouting again, Ana was ready to spend the rest of the night on the stage. ‘Am I all right?’ she whispered to Lol.
‘Ana, my love, you are much more than all right. You are fucking fantastic. Now sing something else. Quick. The crowd is getting restless.’
Ana turned and faced the audience. She smiled. They cheered. This was fun. And as she looked around the faces in the crowd, she spotted a beaming Zander, his hands held above his head, clapping loudly and whistling, and it suddenly occurred to her that he was probably the bravest person she’d ever met. This party was for Bee, but Zander deserved a moment in the spotlight. Because he was here. At a party to celebrate the life of a woman who’d taken everything away from him. And then she remembered something. ‘A Song for Zander’. She’d finally put some music to it, last week. She’d been intending to ask Lol if she’d be able to get it recorded for him and she had been going to send him the tape, in St Andrews. But now … well, now was just perfect.
She leaned down and asked Flint to pass her her bag. And then she asked a big guy with a beard if she could borrow his guitar. She looped the guitar around her neck and strummed it quietly, getting used to the feel of it after so many weeks without practising.
‘Erm. This is a song. This is a really, really special song. Because Bee wrote it. And no, it’s not “Space Girl” and it’s not “Honey Bee” – there was some muted sniggering ‘but it’s a song I found in her flat when I cleared it out last month. These are Bee’s lyrics. I just added a simple tune. And it’s called “A Song for Zander”.’
Tears started catching at the back of her throat as she sang and for a brief second she felt something powerful entering her – an external force. And for a brief second it was as if it wasn’thersinging any more, as if it was somebody else, and as her eyes found Zander’s again a jolt shot through her and she saw it hit him too, and it felt like Bee.
She handed the guitar back to the beardy guy when she finished and leaned into the microphone.