Chapter 12

Terry got to choir practice early to greet Grace before they went into the hall. Grace beamed with pleasure and without a word both joined hands and leant in for a kiss.

“Hello, sweet Grace!”

“And you, my Terry!”

“My?”

Grace blushed but managed to come up with “Well, I don’t know any others.”

That did not earn her another kiss but Terry squeezed her hands. “Glad to hear it,” he replied.

“Ungrateful man!”

That did earn her another quick kiss. They went in together but taking care not to do so hand in hand.

They went to their seats. One of Terry’s neighbours was Gareth Davies. Terry had discovered that he was reading Civil Engineering at Birmingham but was in his third year and was planning to join his father’s company with a view in the long run to taking over from him. He was already in his seat.

“See the conquering hero comes,” he said with a grin.

“Wha-at?”

“The prettiest soprano in the choir?”

“We used to work together.”

Further conversation was prevented as Michael said a very loud, “Good evening, everybody. Right! This evening we move into full tempo. I have confidence in you. Prove me right!”

He actually took it at about three-quarter speed and was pleased. He told the choir so.

“Now then!” he added.

He had to stop several times when people got in a mess but by the end he pronounced a ‘Not bad. Well done!”

Gareth followed Terry. He wanted to meet this soprano friend of Terry’s.

Terry duly introduced them and mentioned Gareth’s degree. Grace smiled friendlily.

“Have you done a lot of singing?” Gareth asked her.

“Not since school and that was pretty basic hymn singing.”

“But you’re enjoying this?”

“You bet.”

“Good! See you both next week.”

He moved off.

“He seems a pleasant guy,” said Grace.

“Yeah,” replied Terry carelessly.

Grace homed in on that instantly. “You don’t think so.”

“No but I wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him.”

“Wow! How well do you know him?”

“Hardly at all but when we walked in together this evening he was full of interest.”

“Oh! What did he say?”

“‘The prettiest girl in the choir’”.

“And?”

“How did I know you? So I told him we had worked together.”

“No more than that?”

“No. I wanted to avoid rumours flying round.”

“Hmm! That’s sweet and typical of you, Terry. The only thing is that he may think he’s got a chance with me.”

“He hasn’t though. I know you too well, my Grace.”

“He doesn’t though. I may have to slap him down.”

“Heaven help him!”

“Terry!”

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Grace. It’s just that I’m pretty sure you consider us an item.”

She nodded.

“So you’ll slap him down but if I read him rightly he’s unscrupulous and selfish and then you’ll go for him, claws and all.”

“So? He ought to get the message.”

“I just hope so.”

“Are you worried that he might try to rape me?”

“I hope not and I really don’t know him that well but I just get the impression that he’s a bit too pleased with himself by half and that he reckons anything he wants will be his.”

“Sheesh! A spoilt brat then?”

“That too. His father is a wealthy man.”

“Terry, I find it all a little difficult to believe but if you feel that way about him I’ll keep a watch out.”

“Good! Come on, my Grace. We don’t want to catch it from Mum if we’re late for supper.”

“That’s twice you’ve called me that.”

“What?”

“‘My Grace’.”

“Sorry but as far as I’m concerned you are.”

She closed the gap and her arms went round him, “And you’re my Terry. Well, for the time being.”

“Only for the time being?”

“Until I’m no longer your Grace.”

That was it. They clung to each other but neither said another word.

They parted, went to their own cars and drove to Terry’s home where Grace got her usual warm welcome.

Terry was his responsible self after supper and went off to study. Grace went home not that long afterwards.

“I like that girl more and more each time I see her,” Jean said to Roddy.

“So I reckon does Terry,” Roddy grinned.

“Well, I won’t stand in their way if anything develops.”

“Nor will I. Her head’s screwed on, she’s amusing and very pretty.”

“Watch it, boy!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Grace left early the next morning for her parents’. She intended to be there for lunch. She was having had a good trip without major holdups. Her parents, Jerry and Belinda (Belle for short and to all her friends), were delighted and excited to see her as was she to see them. They had a pre-lunch drink but as her father was in his working clothes they stayed in the kitchen.

Grace’s weekly telephone calls had largely been taken by her mother so Jerry was keen to hear about her job. She told them about her slow start and then about chasing up dilatory customers, getting to know her drivers and fitters, her concerns about working hours, finance, discipline and annual reporting. Her father nodded approvingly.

“And,” she went on, “I’ve now got an HGV 1 licence and am able to drive articulated trucks.”

“What?” exclaimed both parents.

“One of those motorway monsters?” asked Belinda.

“Can you reach everything?” asked Jerry.

“Yes to both,” Grace laughed adding, “but I do have to have a large firm cushion behind my bum so that I can reach the pedals properly.

“Right, young lady, tractor driving for you next time you come home for any decent length of time.”