England, 1951. Eight-year-old Geoff wins a scholarship to a choir school, and his RAF-sergeant father and mother promptly take a posting abroad. But when things go horribly wrong at the school, fellow sergeant Ted Cunningham, who coached Geoff for the choir school audition, finds himself unexpectedly in loco parentis.
Against the vivid backcloth of England and America in the 50s and 60s, we experience the dramatic events that shape Geoffâs future. Again and again it turns out that things are not what they first seem, as Geoff â now a young adult â struggles to decide where his loyalties lie. On his journey he faces disappointment and rejection, but also finds love and acceptance. Superlative story-telling that will keep you hooked from beginning to end.
England, 1951. Eight-year-old Geoff wins a scholarship to a choir school, and his RAF-sergeant father and mother promptly take a posting abroad. But when things go horribly wrong at the school, fellow sergeant Ted Cunningham, who coached Geoff for the choir school audition, finds himself unexpectedly in loco parentis.
Against the vivid backcloth of England and America in the 50s and 60s, we experience the dramatic events that shape Geoffâs future. Again and again it turns out that things are not what they first seem, as Geoff â now a young adult â struggles to decide where his loyalties lie. On his journey he faces disappointment and rejection, but also finds love and acceptance. Superlative story-telling that will keep you hooked from beginning to end.
TED SAT AT the piano, half playing, half conducting, his long thin wrists protruding from his air force battledress blouse. A dull afternoon light filtered through the high metal windows and the men huddled around the piano as if it would take away the chill. He signalled the end of the last note. âLovely, lads. Really lovely. Coming on ever-so well. Same time next week, and weâll run through the Vaughan-Williams, so have a look at it if you can in the meantime.â
âThanks Ted, see you next week.â As the nine men filed out of the hall, the lights came on. Ted looked up and saw Frank Bassett walking towards him, uniform immaculate as always, his boots reflecting the yellow lamplight.
âVery nice, Ted. I never realised we had such talent here.â Ted didnât know Frank well. Heâd come to the station about a year ago from somewhere up north. They would occasionally meet in the sergeantsâ mess but Frank wasnât Tedâs type. He was a bit of a show-off, a great one for a dirty joke, everyoneâs best friend. What on earth did he want? âAre you thinking of joining us? I didnât know you could sing.â
âDonât look so worried, Ted. Tone deaf. Not a chance. But it is your musical help Iâm after. Itâs my boy, you see.â Frank handed him a piece of folded newspaper. It was an advertisement: Choral Scholarships â St Christopherâs College Choir School, Cambridge. âI want to put him up for this. First-rate education. All paid for.â
Ted handed the cutting back. âCan he sing?â
âThatâs why Iâm talking to you. His schoolteacher told Sheila it were the one thing he were good at, but I donât know anything about music. I thought maybe you could try him out. See if heâs up to it.â He took some duplicated sheets out of a buff envelope and gave them to Ted. There was an application form and a description of what was required for an audition. Scales, aural tests, performance of O Rest In The Lord, âplus piece of applicantâs own choiceâ.
âIâm not sure if Iâm the right person, Frank. Iâm only an amateur. This,â he waved towards where the choir had stood, âis only a bit of fun. Applicants for St Christopherâs need professional singing teachers I should think. Iâd be out of my depth.â
âYouâre doing yourself down, Ted. Iâve talked to some of the blokes in the choir and they reckon you know what youâre at. Thatâs why Iâm asking for your help. Anyway, you know I couldnât afford to get a professional teacher on a sergeantâs wages.â Frank checked himself. âNot that Iâm asking you to do it on the cheap â donât worry Iâll see you all right â itâs just that Iâd like your opinion, and maybe your help, as a friend.â
Ted didnât want to get involved but could see that it was going to be hard to say no. âI still donât think Iâm the right person but I suppose if you brought the boy around some time I could listen to him and see if heâs worth getting some professional help for?â
âI knew youâd be the right man to talk to. Thatâs capital. When would be a good time?â
FRANK BROUGHT THE boy to the hall after the following weekâs choir rehearsal. âThis is Geoffrey. Say hello to Sergeant Cunningham.â
The boy looked at the floor and mumbled, âHello, Sergeant Cunningham,â in a squeaky monotone.
âHello, Geoffrey.â Ted tried to put some warmth into his voice. There was no response in the boyâs expression, but maybe this was normal. He had no nieces or nephews and didnât know much about children.
âHeâs a bit shy,â explained Frank. âMight be best if I left you to it. Get to know each other, you know. Shall I come back in half an hour? Iâll be in the mess if you need me.â And, over his shoulder on the way out, âBehave yourself, Geoff.â
Ted looked at him properly. He did seem very small. And thin â a sharp chin, fingers peeping out from the sleeves of his oversize blazer, stick-like legs appearing from billowing grey shorts.
âHow old are you, Geoffrey?â
âNearly eight.â
âYour dad says you like singing. Would you like to sing something for me?â
The boy stared at him blankly.
âWhat about a nursery rhyme, or a hymn, maybe? Your dad said you sing at school.â
âWe sing hymns at assembly and then after that they sometimes play us the wireless and we sing along with it.â
âSinging Together on the Home Service?â
âI donât know.â
âWhy donât I play something, and then, if you know it, you can just sing along a bit?â
Geoff nodded.
Ted took from his battered briefcase a piano book of nursery rhymes which he had been given when he was a boy and started to play Sing a Song of Sixpence. After a few notes Geoff began to hum along quietly, and then, as he found his voice, an astonishingly pure and accurate treble emerged. Ted played some more songs with similar results; then he tried an aural test, playing a few bars of a made-up tune which he asked him to sing back. Geoff repeated it note perfect. âWell done, Geoffrey! Very well done.â The boy smiled briefly, then the blank expression returned. Perhaps smiling wasnât âbehaving himselfâ.
âDo you know why youâre here? Do you know what this is all about?â
âMy dad told me to come.â
âBut do you know why?â
âNo.â
âWould you like to know why?â
âI donât know. I meanâŠâ Ted could see that he was trying to think what the correct answer was.
âYour dad thinks you might be able to get into a choir school. Do you know what that is?â
Geoff shrugged.
âItâs like a normal school but as well as the regular lessons like English and arithmetic there would be a lot of singing, and youâd be singing with other boys in a choir in somewhere like a church. Do you go to church?â
âNo.â
âWould you like that? To go to a special singing school? And youâd be boarding â living there, that is, away from home.â
âI donât know.â
âBut you do like singing, donât you?â
âItâs all right.â Hadnât his father discussed it with him at all?
Just then, Frank came back into the hall. âSo, how are you getting on then? What do you think, Ted?â
âThereâs no question heâs musical.â
âSo could he get into this school, then?â
âThatâs another matter. As I said before, Iâve no experience in this sort of thing at all.â
âBut heâs musical, you say, so couldnât we have a try? Get him up to scratch?â
âI still think youâd be better off with a professional.â
âBut youâd have a go, to help me out, wouldnât you?â Ted was still silent. âTo start him off. And then we could get a professional in later on.â
âIt might work, I suppose. And then thereâs also the question of whether itâs what Geoffrey wants.â
âDonât worry about that. You donât have children, do you, Ted? Heâs only seven. How can he know whatâs right for him? Thatâs a parentâs responsibility. I want the best for him, like any parent, so if I tell him that this is best, heâll do what heâs told. Wonât you Geoff?â Geoff nodded.
THE LESSONS TOOK place every week. Frank would drop off the boy after the choir practice, and for half an hour Ted would go through voice exercises, aural tests and the other stuff required for the audition, dredging up boyhood memories of singing in his church choir. Geoff made rapid progress and in his timid way seemed to be enjoying the lessons and the attention he was getting. Ted enjoyed the lessons too, pleased at how the boy was coming on and resigned to the fact that no professional help was ever going to be sought, though it still irked him.
At the end of April, Ted told Frank that he reckoned Geoff would be ready for St Christopherâs June audition date and Frank sent off the completed application form to the choir school. In due course a letter came back inviting Geoff to an audition on a Saturday afternoon in late June.
âI donât know how to thank you for everything, Ted.â
âThank me if he gets in. Iâm still not sure whether Iâve taught him the right way.â
âDonât worry, youâve done a great job,â and he patted him on the shoulder. âLook Ted, I know I already owe you and all, for what youâve done and I hate to ask you for another favour, but I wondered if thereâs any chance you could take the boy up to the audition. Youâve got a car, havenât you? You see, for me to take him up by train is bit of a performance, and I think itâd give him more confidence too, if he knew you were there.â
Ted doubted it would really be so difficult for Frank and Geoff to go by train, but as Geoff was his protĂ©gĂ© in a way, maybe it wouldnât be such a bad idea. To show he wasnât a complete chump he replied, âMight be possible. Course Iâd need something for petrol. Must be a good sixty miles each way, probably about five gallons would do it⊠shall we say a quidâs-worth?â
âOf course, I was going to say that. A quid it is.â
Young Geoff has has a hard life. Living with a mother who hates him and a father who dislikes him, he grows up small and silent and shy. Somehow he develops an excellent singing voice and it is through this that he meets his benefactor Ted.
Ted is one of the good men. He takes Geoff on after his parents abandon him, hires a housekeeper with her own secrets, and life chugs along.
Geoff eventually finds out what has happened to his parents, finds his birth father, meets all the extended relatives, graduates from uni, plays everywhere in jazz bands but chooses not to go professional, meets a girl, falls in love. The old people start dying.
Sadly, this is how the book reads, more like a laundry list than an emotional story. At times the characters burst into tears and this is completely startling since otherwise all the events have a very buttoned-down feel to them. Nothing seems to really have an impact. Itâs all very proper and any show of emotion seems false. When Anyone says âI love youâ, it falls flat. Even the jazz sections, which could be soaring, fluid, colourful, just donât quite get there as the author is swiftly off to a different scene.
And yet I read it right through. If I were the author I would be tempted to trim the ending- the book could have stopped well before the tale of Geoffâs sister dying-she makes such a brief appearance we donât really care about her plight. Iâd also be tempted to cut some of the dialogue, as much of it is banal, and bring in some of the senses, make the characters feel more real.
And yet⊠it did hold me. Worth a read, but could be oh so much more vibrant.