CYNTHIA AND CRICHTON ENJOY A SPOT OF HANDEL








On Saturday evening we all, yes, the twins as well, went up to the Cathedral for a candle lit concert of Handel’s Messiah. It always makes me feel Christmassy...in the proper way.
Bunty was singing in the chorus.  She’s been demoted to alto this season and she’s taking it pretty well, but it must be hard on her, having been squealing away on those wonderful top notes for so long…maybe a little too long, some say. She will miss always getting the solos.
Derek who is a ‘friend’ of the choral society was on door duty, selling programmes and showing people to their seats. He seemed surprised to see Crichton. 
     ‘…didn’t think this was your kind of thing, old man. I have to come along to support the memsahib, but you've got no excuse.’ 
He found us a spot by the radiators for which we were very grateful…it can be bitter in the nave. 
Out go the lights, a quick prayer and request to turn off mobile phones from the Bishop’s chaplain and the conductor walked onto his rostrum, resplendent in white tie and tails. With the candle light flickering on the mellow stone and glorious music filling the ancient building, one could have thought one’s self in heaven…but not for long. 
Crichton’s snoring during ‘Come unto me all ye that labour, and I will give you rest,’ caused some angry tutting from the row in front until Jerome nudged him awake. We kept him quiet for the rest of the first half with a mint imperial from my bag and shoved him to his feet for the Halleluiah Chorus. Bunty was giving it her all in the third row and the whole choir was jigging along merrily, when disaster struck. After the penultimate Hallelujah  there is a long pause…or should be…to allow the full effect of the building’s acoustic. 
Poor Bunty. She had been so carried away with the music that she carried straight on. 
This is one of the most heinous crimes that a singer can commit and we all felt her shame. She turned scarlet and we could imagine the conductor’s glare even though he had his back to us.
But hey ho, these things happen in live performance and we all trooped out to the freezing cloisters for a plastic vending cup of mulled wine. 
I noticed Bunty making her way to the ladies, head down, but thought it better to leave her alone in her misery. 
The second half was equally inspiring, and when the last Amen finally died away we rose to our feet to give a well-deserved standing ovation.
Bunty came over afterwards and I gave her a hug. She seemed to have recovered her composure, and all would have ended well if we hadn’t met up with Derek on the way out.
‘Good to see you’re still getting the solos, old girl?’ he laughed.  
I honestly thought she was going to hit him.

Crichton comments
The seats in Cathedral are damnably hard. Comfort ye my people?  They could do with some cushions...Even so I managed to get in a spot of shut eye.



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