Echoes of Family by Barbara Claypole White

Author:Barbara Claypole White [White, Barbara Claypole]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781503938137
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2016-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

They walked across the wood floor of the cavernous village hall, their footsteps as loud as firecrackers. The boys, with the exception of Tom, were not subtle about watching EmJ. And EmJ, who had struck Gabriel as asexual up until that point, appeared to walk toward them with a slight sway in her hips.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he whispered to Hugh. Tom was a good sort, Jack too, but Charlotte—Let’s be honest, God—was not an exemplary Christian, and he knew nothing about Matt, who lived one village over.

Charlotte greeted them with a too-wide smile. “Good afternoon, Reverend.”

Gabriel nodded at the pretty blonde in the shortest skirt he’d ever seen. Did it even count as a skirt?

EmJ ignored the boys and looked straight at Charlotte. A wise move from one so young. “You, like, need a singer?”

“Yar,” Charlotte said, her voice posher than usual, but then Charlotte enjoyed flashing her social class. “Why?” She looked EmJ up and down. “Do you know of anyone?”

“Might.” EmJ shrugged and folded her cardigan around herself.

“EmJ’s a talented singer.” Marianne moved forward to stand next to EmJ. “And I have some experience with live musical performances. We’re going to be in the village for a while with nothing to do. We’d be happy to help out, if you’d like us to. No pressure.”

Marianne had also read the situation well.

“She owns a recording studio in America,” EmJ said with a sniff. Finally she turned to the boys. “They’re recording the new Media Rage.”

Nobody moved, but Tom’s eyes grew wide. Taking this as her cue, Marianne stepped toward him, hand outstretched. “Nice to meet y’all. I’m Marianne.”

Oh, she was good. Whereas Charlotte had polished her accent, Marianne had turned hers southern. For some reason it made her less intimidating.

“She’s in her element,” Hugh whispered.

Tom shook Marianne’s hand. “I’m Tom, the guitarist.” He pointed at the others. “Matt plays the drums, Jack’s on bass. Charlotte’s our manager. She makes all the posters and stuff.”

“Is there a Media Rage song you could play?”

“Too bloody right!” Tom said, his handsome face lighting up with the same impish grin he’d had as a small boy wreaking havoc during his brother’s baptism. Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. What a handful Tom had been as a youngster, but even so, he had such compassion, such generosity of spirit. Hopefully when he went up to Oxford in the autumn he would find someone more deserving of his affection than Charlotte. Good Lord, that was an inappropriate thought.

Sorry, God.

He tried to listen as Marianne quizzed Tom about Media Rage.

“EmJ knows that one,” Marianne said. “How about you let her audition?”

“Why not?” Charlotte said, and tugged on the large gold-and-ruby cross dangling around her neck.

Gabriel leaned against the far wall of the village hall and watched the energy in the room shift from Charlotte to Marianne. As she talked and gestured, the band members nodded.

Marianne winked at him. “We’ve got this covered, Gabriel. We’ll walk back when we’re done.”

“Would you mind terribly if we watched the performance?” Hugh said.

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