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Sophie was so busy rolling her eyes at Jules that she didn’t see Tilly. In fact, she didn’t see her until she ran into her.

“Ouch.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Sophie said, taking a step back.

But Tilly’s blue eyes were sparkling at her and she was smiling and she was, Sophie thought, just as pretty as she remembered. She could see now that there was a smattering of tiny curly hairs along her hair-line, like a child’s. It made her smile.

“You know, this is the second time we’ve met and the second time we’ve literally run into each other,” Tilly said. “Probably better for the future of our relationship that we try and be slightly less clumsy?”

Future of our relationship? Sophie’s mouth went dry. All she could do was nod and hope that Tilly didn’t think she was too much of an idiot.

“Um, I know it’s a bit forward, but I don’t like messing around too much,” Tilly was saying now.

Sophie looked around, but Jules had made herself scarce and everyone else was gathering around the piano.

“Would you have a drink with me after choir one night?” Tilly said. “Maybe in the pub?”

Sophie took a breath. Right. No pub. No interference. No big brother spoiling things. “No,” she said quickly.

But before she could say anything else, Billy Brooke was clapping her hands and shouting over the chatter.

Tilly gave Sophie one look and Sophie couldn’t read it. Sad or mad or something in between. Then she left to join the other sopranos.

???

“Alright, I want you all to stand in a line. Here, Sylv, you go at the front. Everyone line up behind her,” Billy said.

Obediently, the rest of the choir did as they were told. Tilly was close to the front, still thinking about what had just happened.

She’d said no.

Was it possible that she’d completely misread the situation? Possible that Sophie wasn’t in the slightest bit interested? Or wasn’t even into women?

“It’s simple. You’re going to come to the front, sing the first two lines of Happy Birthday, then you’re done,” Billy said.

A lot of people groaned. But Tilly was too distracted to think about it.

She couldn’t have been that wrong, surely. But then what other explanation was there? She hadn’t asked about a specific night, so it couldn’t be a matter of scheduling. The only thing that she could think was that Sophie wasn’t interested at all.

Sylv gave a warbling rendition of Happy Birthday, then two more people came and went. Tilly stood next to the piano at her turn and sang without thinking. Too busy concentrating on the fact that she’d been so wrong.

Person after person sang, the words to Happy Birthday starting to sound more and more nonsensical.

It was fine, Tilly told herself. Just fine. Everyone had the right to say no, and she’d never dispute that. If Sophie wasn’t interested, that was okay, perfectly alright. It hurt, but she could deal with that. Really, she could.

But when Sophie sang, Tilly couldn’t stop herself watching. She was the second to last person to go, and she was clearly nervous. Her voice was clear and soft though, and Tilly didn’t think she was biased when she thought that Sophie really could sing quite well.

“Right,” Billy said when they were all done. “You, you, you, you, and you.” She pointed out a handful of people, including both Sophie and Tilly. “You’re my soloists for the winter concert. Here are your lines. Learn them.” She began handing out sheets of music to a group of people that looked a lot like deer caught in the headlights.

“Do we have any choice about this?” asked a small, round man.

Billy glared at him. “No. You’re a good singer. Get over it.”

She stopped when she came to Tilly. “You’re good, come here.” She took Tilly’s wrist and led her over to Sophie. “The two of you are going to duet. You’ll fit together well. Here’s your music.”

She dropped Tilly’s wrist and left her standing face to face with Sophie.

A duet? Together? Practice and sing and rehearse with someone who’d just turned her down flat?