Part One Hundred And Forty Nine
As the opening bars of Chaos began to unfold, the audience were immediately captivated. In the left hand pew on the front row, Henry sat with Cassie, who had obviously come to see Roisin's moment of glory, Crystal, Helen and Nikki. They could all pick out various people they knew, including George, the Judge, Grayling, Jo, Karen, Barbara and Roisin. Helen and Nikki could just about see Clare through the ranks of first and second violins, and when they heard the sound of her flute delicately spiraling through the air, they felt an enormous sense of pride. This wasn't the usual type of music that any of these four women were known to listen to, but they couldn't help but be entranced by the beauty of it. Joe Channing seemed to coax every note, every alteration in dynamic from the hordes of instruments before him, personally encouraging each and every one of them to play.
When Neil Grayling rose silently to his feet, Cassie only just managed to stop herself from gasping in awe.
"In the beginning, god created the heaven and the earth."
His voice seemed to creep out of the very bowels of the earth, declaiming the very first breath of life. Crystal, being abundantly aware of the biblical text, couldn't fault his delivery of it whatsoever. When the chorus peacefully began working up to the creation of light, their subtle voices appeared to come straight from heaven itself. They were standing in the small choral gallery that was above where the altar would usually have been situated, giving them the feeling of the angels on high they were there to play. When the word "Light," broke upon the air, Cassie leapt in surprise, receiving the tiniest of winks from George. It was so loud, so mighty, in comparison to what had gone before, that every bat that might have inhabited the old building was forever banished, and as Monty rose to his feet, to begin extolling the end of chaos, and the introduction of order into this brand new world, the audience felt that the performance had truly begun.
When Grayling again began singing, Cassie found herself wondering why they'd never learnt of this side of his personality at Larkhall. But as his second standing drew to a close, and George rose to her feet, the audience seemed to collectively hold its breath. When she opened her mouth, a warm smile spread over both Helen's and Nikki's faces. Karen had been right, she really did sing like an angel. But their enjoyment wasn't remotely tinged with bitterness, as could definitely be said of the man sitting a few rows behind them. Neil couldn't believe what he was seeing, or what he was hearing. This was George, his George, the George who had sustained so many rows with him, especially towards the end of their alliance. Yet now, here she was, looking more sensational than he possibly could have imagined, and singing with the purity of any of the numerous songbirds that graced his rarely visited country home. He'd never had the slightest inkling that she possessed such a talent, and it was this realisation that made him all the more determined to get her back. But when she rose with that utter assuredness to the highest note in the score, he wasn't the only one to gasp. Cassie stared at her, round-eyed with amazement. George had looked so serene as she'd grasped that note with her bare hands, holding onto it for all it was worth. Her voice had risen above that of the entire chorus, showing even the most tone deaf in the room that she was eons above them all in what she could do.
Grayling again followed this outpouring of sheer beauty, with his powerful rendition of 'The Rolling, Foaming, Billows'. Cassie was astounded to feel herself shiver at the power behind the words, the sound that instilled the feeling of the roaring waves in all of them. From where she sat at the end of the row, Helen could just about see Karen, staring with utter concentration at her music, her bow sliding deliciously up and down her strings. God, but she'd never thought that classical music could be so sensually played. Those players she knew, well some of them anyway, appeared to be tending their instruments as skillfully as they might a lover, Karen and the Judge being the two most evident to her. The way Jo gripped her cello could be nothing less than sexual, though Helen didn't think Jo would ever admit it, and the Judge, who she could see most easily, was watching the baton with the rapt attention that he usually bestowed on a witness. The throb of Grayling's powerful vibrato gave Helen a tingling feeling throughout her body, that could only be explained as sexual arousal, as his voice gradually quietened, bringing his song eventually to a close.
As George moved into the delicately pretty opening bars of 'With Verdure Clad', Nikki found that there were tears in her eyes. She'd always been aware of her tendency to become over emotional at truly artistic expression, but this was something else. There was a mournful quality in George's voice, which invoked a sadness, as well as an unwavering awe in her listeners. The aria was of the virtues of spring, the true beginnings of nature, and as George rose to the top B flat, both Nikki, and Neil Haughton shivered. George's voice made the senses crackle, making every nerve ending stand on end, demanding that every passing bird halt in its tracks to listen. The orchestra weaved in and out of her melodies, fluctuating between the gentle caress of the clarinet, followed by the intermittent responses from Clare's flute. This aria may have beautifully established the growing life upon the planet, but it also managed to infect the listening audience with a dreamy enchantment that begged their imaginations to unfold.
As the chorus sailed joyously into 'Awake the Harp', the audience were brought out of their enchantment and provoked into joining the celebration of God's third day. The timps thundered, the trumpets sounded bright and clear, and the chorus put everything they had into the angels' exultation at such a wondrous achievement. A broad smile spread across Crystal's face as she took in their words. Only she, and perhaps Henry who was sitting beside her, and Barbara who was in the middle there playing the harpsichord, only they really understood what it was to praise and rejoice the true beginning of their world.
It was then Monty's turn to sing of the awe inspiring birth of the stars, those lights in heaven to guide the creatures of the night, and to keep the world perpetually free from darkness. As the cellos alone accompanied him through the peaceful birth of heaven's lights, and were then joined by the rest of the strings, they all felt a brief return to the dreamy acceptance of the heavens.
But as the chorus "Announced the fourth day in song divine," George and Neil rose to join Monty, all three soloists standing together for the first time. They had but a few intermittent bars throughout the mainly choral piece, but in their chords they were for now united, the one goal common to all.
As Joe led the orchestra through the beginning of 'On Mighty Pens', Helen smiled at how pretty it was, with Clare's flute delicately dancing over the top of the rest of them. But as George moved into the actual words of the aria, they could all sense the different birds on God's earth, soaring as if on wings of sound into the sky. George's voice painted the picture of the dove, the lark, and every other bird that had been brought into being on the fifth day. As her words wove in and out of Clare's flute, the intertwining counterpoint seeming to carry the rest of the orchestra through the piece, George gazed out over the audience, knowing that Neil Haughton was out there somewhere, and briefly wondering if the purity of their collective sound would make the remotest impression on his soul of granite.
As Neil Grayling began to sing of the creation of all other living things, accompanied solely by the strings and Barbara's harpsichord, Henry could barely suppress the pride he felt in his wife. She had practiced so hard for this day, and he knew that apart from the occasional arguments within the orchestra, she had thoroughly enjoyed working up to this point. He realised that this was part of Barbara's way of thanking God for the time they'd had together, however short that might now be.
When George and Monty rose to join Neil for the trio, they moved into a somewhat more cheerful stance. This was to be a celebration of the beautiful planet that had been created, and which was now being steadily populated by all manner of animals and birds. No living creature could do any harm, this being left in store for any future humans. The three voices rose separately at first, decorated in turn by the flute and the oboe, and eventually to join in harmony to give thanks for their fabulous gift.
When Joe's baton came swiftly down for 'The Lord Is Great', those who were not familiar with Haydn's music were treated to yet another surprise. The sheer speed and complexity of this piece astounded those on the left hand of the front row. Everyone appeared to be doing something different, and each and every one of them competing to be heard. From the soloists, to the violins, to the trumpets, to the chorus, all of them were straining at the bit, their talents bursting free from their confines. George looked as though she really might take off into the air, her voice soaring above that of everyone else, rising effortlessly to the top B flat, and as their combined eruption of sound carried the piece to its fortissimo climax, Nikki gasped at the sheer force of their power.
Neil then began to sing of the birth of the earth's many beasts, making the roar of lion and tiger come to life in their very midst. But as he moved onto the description of grazing cattle, the music took on a peaceful serenity, the inhabitants of God's new planet being granted the happiness and good will to fulfill their duty. As his telling of the tale of beasts continued into the second aria, the music took on a far more cheerful tone. When he sank confidently to the second octave F, Cassie grinned. His voice was so deep, so rich, that it might almost have been made of melted gold.
When Monty rose, to move them through the creation of Adam and Eve, George began to feel a growing sense of anticipation. The moment was fast approaching when she would be dancing with Neil Grayling, and showing Neil Haughton just how much she had never needed him.
"And God created man, in his own image, in the image of God created he him. Male and female created he them. He breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul."
As Monty progressed through his aria, Cassie spared a thought to reflect on what a chauvinistic wanker God must have been, though she guessed this must have been a sign of the times. Crystal also speculated on this point, though with a far more lenient attitude. It wasn't Adam's fault that God had given him so much self-importance, he'd simply made an error of judgment that was all. She was just as necessary to her children's creation and upbringing as Josh was, she knew that. So why had the creator of all things, the power behind everything she believed in, made such a monumental mistake. Perhaps it was right that Adam and Eve had left the Garden of Eden, giving Eve the eventual opportunity to prove herself.
"And God saw everything that he had made, and behold it was very good, and the heavenly choir in song divine, thus closed the sixth day."
As Neil introduced the celebration of the end of the sixth day, the chorus again rose to their feet. The rejoicing both by chorus and soloists that followed, made it clear to all concerned that God's achievement of the birth of man was his cleverest yet. There was a gentler trio from the soloists in between the two louder, far more joyful expressions of praise by the chorus, allowing the appreciation from Adam and Eve to steadily grow. It was made abundantly clear by this that Adam and Eve would soon take up their vows and pledge their lives to each other, just as God had intended. As the chorus gave their thanks for the creation of Adam and Eve, it felt as though they were laying a pure smile of sincere praise and thanks giving over the entire audience.
Following the joyful exultation of the chorus, came a purely instrumental interlude, allowing the illustration of the tranquility of the garden of Eden to be painted, drawing the audience into the gentility of the feelings that were about to be expressed. Monty joined in with this after a while, adding a few necessary words to make the picture complete. But when George and Neil moved a little way in front of him, moving into their accustomed position for their dance, the audience gazed in awe at the sheer beauty of their togetherness.
"By thee, with bliss, oh, bounteous Lord. Both heaven and earth are stored. This world, so great, so wonderful. Thy mighty hand has framed."
As they began to dance, and yet still to sing, the graceful way they moved captured every wandering eye. He held her in his arms, her hand entwined with his, giving the impression of utter devotion to the cause. Neil Haughton stared. Christ, he'd known she was beautiful, he'd known she possessed the grace and agility of a cat, especially in bed, but this was something else altogether. How could she dance like that, and sing at the same time? How could she possess such ability to entrance every soul who watched and listened to her? And who was this man, this man who was holding her as possessively and tenderly as he, Neil was forced to admit, had never done. Their voices were as skillfully moulded together as their steps were, moving with total assurance in each other's space. It wasn't lost on either Cassie or Helen, when John occasionally removed his eyes from the music, just long enough to glance George's way, clearly bursting with pride at what she was doing.
George and Neil didn't dance through the next piece, which also contained the chorus, but they did stand together, giving praise for their love, and congratulating God for his cleverness. George's voice danced in and out of the chorus, just as her delicate feet had done only moments earlier. She sounded truly happy with her lot, thoroughly unquestioning of the duty of continuing the human race, which had been bestowed on her and her mate.
When they again took up their dancing hold, they gazed into each other's eyes, their words, just for this moment, briefly engendering the feelings of love and commitment that God had intended. His words asked her to come with him, to allow him to guide her through the rest of their lives, to guard her, to protect her, to cherish her. George in her turn, pledged her obedience, and asked for his guidance, and begged him to be her all, to be her shield.
But as they moved into the duet proper, and Neil described her as his graceful consort, Neil Haughton couldn't help but think that this was all that he'd ever wanted her to be to him. Haughton supposed it was the man's acting ability, but he really sounded as though he meant every single word he was saying to her. He sincerely meant that he would lull every care of hers to rest. Funny, Haughton thought to himself, but he'd always thought that this was for a woman to do, not a man. A man needed looking after, his woman being there to smooth the way for him. But this man, he was promising George, Eve, everything, from his undying fidelity, to his everlasting devotion.
"Spouse adored, at thy side, purest joys o'erflow the heart."
God, how she sounded as though she felt every sentiment. This feeling was indigenous to the entire audience, all of them feeling that tingle of the sparks of love being set alight in their midst. But when their voices joined, the first and second subjects weaving in and out of each other, Nikki gripped Helen's hand. This was incredible! The union between the two dancers was so beautiful, so enchanting, that Nikki could, for this short space of time, forget that this wasn't any ordinary couple. They were expressing the feelings that she knew she and Helen felt for each other, justifying their very existence as one.
"With thee, with thee, with thee."
As they rose to this reiterated promise, Nikki shivered, briefly wondering if the panes of the stained glass windows would hold under the throbbing, soul piercing onslaught.
"With thee, with thee, is every joy enhanced. "With thee, with thee, is life incessant bliss."
Neil Haughton felt a stab of envy as they sang this, knowing that never in his wildest dreams would she ever say anything of the sort to him. John on the other hand, was feeling every vibration of her words, knowing that some of them at least were meant for him. Even through all the fights and all the tears, somewhere along the line he and George had been destined to be together as, in a different and more lasting way, were he and Jo. When George had married him, she had truly vowed to give herself to him forever. He bitterly regretted the ways in which he'd hurt both George and Jo over the years, and perhaps it was this expression of pure, sincere feeling that was making him convinced that he would never hurt either of them again. As they soared up to the final exultation of, "Thine it all shall be," The audience seemed to hold its breath, as if wanting to preserve this true moment of glory forever.
As George and Neil moved back to stand on either side of Monty, and he began proclaiming the coming doom for God's errant charges, everyone knew that the end was near. As the chorus moved into the final expression of rejoice, accompanied by the entire orchestra and joined in turn by the three soloists, every ounce of effort that they'd all put into this seemed to come together. They'd made it, they'd succeeded, what better reason to celebrate and give thanks than that. Joe Channing's hands carried every one of them through this joyful finale, in a way expressing his own pleasure and slight astonishment that they'd actually managed to reach this point. But as they sailed into the few final chords, they all felt that the stress and the arguments had been worth it, the eventual product of their labours having been a triumph to behold.