Page 52 of Love in Tune

At that moment, Honey, Tash and Nell all sat side by side on the grass outside, their bellies full of Hal’s delicious food and their ears full of the sound of singing.

Lucille and Old Don had reprised their roles as choir leaders, starting things off with the opening lines of ‘Morning Has Broken’.

Slowly and surely, people had joined them.

Residents, family and friends, singing, humming, their faces illuminated by the flicker of the candles as they swayed gently.

The parole boys moved things along with a heartrending rendition of the opening verse of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’; they were no Welsh choir, but they moved the crowd to join in with them come the chorus.

It was a scene that burned itself onto Honey’s heart forever, and was absolute TV gold for the news channels. Troy Masters had once more returned to the site with his cameraman, and they watched as he filed a piece to camera on the unfolding events.

‘I still think you should have a crack at him, Honey,’ Tash said, her eyes on his pert backside. ‘You’re practically a celebrity in your own right now. You could be one of those cute TV couples who host This Morning .’

‘Piss off,’ Honey said, knocking Tash in the ribs with her elbow.

‘I don’t think she needs us to set her up anymore,’ Nell said. ‘Do you, Honey?’

Honey had known that her friends were too perceptive to miss what was going on under their noses.

‘Don’t say it,’ Tash said suddenly. ‘I know you think you love him, but it’ll pass.’

Honey turned to her. ‘Not so long ago you were telling me to seduce him.’

‘Yeah. Seduce him. Have hot sex. I never told you to bloody love him, did I?’

‘We can’t help who we fall in love with, Tash,’ Nell chided.

‘Bollocks can’t we,’ Tash shot back. ‘He’s trouble. He’s already broken her heart before he even knows she loves him.’

They lapsed into silence.

‘I don’t think he meant to,’ Honey said, her voice small.

Tash leaned in against her one shoulder, and Nell propped her up on the other side. They sat there like that for a fair while, and Honey felt her breathing regulate and her heartbeat calm down. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to have to get through it alone.

‘Nell! Get Honey over here, quick!’ Simon called a few minutes later. ‘Troy Masters needs her on camera right now!’

Simon wasn’t given to drama, so his tone was enough to have the girls scrabbling to their feet and heading across the grass to Troy. He beckoned Honey across to stand beside him, and then switched on his professional smile and spoke into the camera.

‘Thank you Sarah,’ he replied to the presenter back in the studio. ‘Yes, you join us back here at Greyacres where we have breaking news, and I’m joined once more by Honeysuckle Jones, the protest leader.’

Honey smiled quizzically. Breaking news? She glanced towards Nell and Tash beside the cameraman, and they both shrugged, obviously none the wiser either. Troy looked down at an iPad in his hands, and then back to camera.

‘This has really caught the public’s attention today, nowhere more so than on Twitter,’ he said.

‘The hashtag #standwithus has been trending throughout the afternoon, and in the last ten minutes there’s been something of a first, Sarah, a celebrity auction taking place,’ he said, flashing his cosmetically correct smile again.

‘It seems that there’s at least three stars vying to buy the home for the residents, Honeysuckle,’ he said, and held the microphone out for her to reply.

‘Really?’ she squeaked, rendered almost speechless by shock and glassy eyed with yet more tears. Troy, who had her number this time, held out a tissue and grinned.

‘Mick Jagger was first to offer, and then Jamie Oliver threw his hat into the ring,’ Troy said.

‘His pukka white chef’s hat,’ Honey whispered in wonder, and earned herself a warning look from the cameraman.

She saw Tash lean towards Nell. ‘I’m gonna fucking die laughing if the third one’s Michael Bublé,’ she whispered.

The cameraman’s head whipped around so hard that he was lucky not to break his neck. Tash had just sworn live into the living rooms of thousands of viewers up and down the country.

Troy coughed spectacularly to cover it up as best he could and hastily threw back to Sarah in the studio, while Tash and Nell threw their arms around a shaky-kneed Honey and danced her in a wonky circle.

‘Oh my bloody God,’ Honey whispered, as Tash whipped her phone out and loaded Twitter.

‘Look at the list of hashtags that are trending right now,’ she said, running her finger down the list. #standwithus sat in pole position, closely followed by #goodonyoumick and #jamiesavestheday.

Honey stared at the screen, hardly able to believe it. They’d done it. They’d bloody well done it. Her face ached from smiling, and then that smile melted from her face like butter in a hot pan. Touching Tash’s mobile screen, she looked up slowly at her friend.

‘Why is #benedicthallam trending too, Tash?’

Honey ran. She ran through the crowds, desperate to get inside, dogged every step of the way by people wanting to congratulate her, shake her hand, or drag her into a hug.

It was obvious that quite a few people had taken the arrival of dusk and candles as a prompt to crack open the wine, so there was a definite party vibe going on.

Everyone gleefully threw off their shackles and made merry, but Honey couldn’t have felt less like joining in the revelry.

She threw herself gratefully through the doors of the home, relieved when they slid shut and cut out much of the noise behind her.

She needed to think fast, and most of all she needed to get to Hal.

She had no clue what she was going to say to him; whether to warn him that he’d been discovered, tell him that the home was saved, or tell him that she loved him more than life.

She needed to say all of those things, and she could feel her heart hammering as she pushed open the kitchen door and prayed he’d be in there alone.

Billy sat in the kitchen, no Hal or Skinny Steve, a bottle of whisky and two empty glasses on the counter in front of him. Honey didn’t stop to wonder why Billy was in the kitchen at all. The only thing that mattered was that Hal wasn’t there.

‘Where is he, Billy?’ she whispered.

‘Come and sit down, Honey,’ Billy said kindly, patting the stool next to his. She stood rooted to the spot, her hand over her heart.

‘Where is he?’

Billy sighed, his eyes troubled and his trademark sparkle nowhere to be seen.

‘He’s gone, sweetheart.’

‘Gone? How can he be gone?’ Honey said. ‘He goes home with me. We go home together.’

‘Not this time,’ Billy said, as tactfully as he could. ‘He asked me to call him a cab about an hour ago.’

‘A cab? You called him a cab?’ Panic sent her voice shrill. ‘For God’s sake, Billy, he doesn’t do this! He can’t … he hasn’t …’ She stopped, because she was gasping, struggling to get her breath.

‘Yes he can,’ Billy said quietly. ‘He’s not a child, Honey. He’s a man. Let him be one.’

She sagged against the doorframe. ‘Did he say where he was going?’

Billy looked down and shook his head sadly.

‘He had a lot on his mind,’ he offered.

Honey dashed the back of her hand over her cheeks.

‘I know that,’ she said. ‘How did he seem to you?’

Billy paused. ‘Like he needed space?’

‘From what?’ Honey said, stricken. ‘From me?’

In that moment she reminded Billy of an evacuated child, a lonely little girl suddenly bereft without the person she loved best. It fair broke his heart that her day should end like this.

It was well after midnight when the last of the protesters-turned-partygoers packed up and left, and Honey dropped down on the cool grass and wrapped her arms around her knees.

People had been kind and taken all of their rubbish home with them, aside from a few lonely strands of tinsel glittering in the moonlight.

Running her fingers over the grass, she found a discarded daisy chain, its flowers closed up and yellowing without the benefit of sunshine on its petals.

Picking it up, she slipped it carefully in her pocket, and then accepted Tash’s outstretched hand to pull her up.

‘Dust yourself down, Supergirl,’ Tash said, leading her away from the home by the hand. ‘Come on. I’ll take you home.’