Recorded with due decorum at Trinity Church, where the stones themselves seem to listen

Before we proceed, it is recommended that the reader equip themselves with a cup of tea, a restorative coffee, or — should the week have been particularly taxing — a modest measure of something stronger. The evening bore the peculiar hush of a place that has seen centuries of secrets and is in no hurry to reveal them, and only with suitable refreshment may one fully appreciate the curious blend of harmony, mystery, and genteel chaos that unfolded.

🕯️ Arrival & Atmosphere

Members arrived in a flurry of scarves, music folders, and polite salutations, though several paused upon crossing the threshold. The air within the church held a curious stillness, as though the building were contemplating the evening ahead. A faint draft swept across the room, arriving from nowhere in particular, as though the church itself had exhaled.

The altos gathered with the air of ladies assembling for a confidential parlour discussion, while the tenors arranged themselves with the solemn dignity of gentlemen awaiting tea. The sopranos, naturally, took their places with the poise of a Regency promenade.

Our esteemed Director, Miss Alison Wooley, presided with her customary elegance, accompanied by the serene and steady Miss Kerrie Weaver, whose presence lent the proceedings a quiet authority. Miss Wooley moved through the church with such calm authority that even the shadows appeared to draw back respectfully, as though aware they were in the presence of a woman not easily unsettled. Miss Weaver, by contrast, possessed a glint of mischief in her eye — the kind that made one suspect she knew precisely which corners of the church harboured the most opinionated shadows, and that she rather enjoyed their company. Some swore the lights dimmed in reverence as they took their places; others blamed the wiring. The church, for its part, offered no explanation.

Before the rehearsal commenced, two notable engagements of the week demanded their rightful place in the record.

🌸 The Spring Food & Craft Festival

Inspire Kirkby in Ashfield Library & Learning Centre

On Wednesday, the library — ordinarily a haven of calm reflection — transformed into a bustling promenade of handcrafted wares and culinary temptations. Tables bowed beneath knitted creatures, jewel bright preserves, carved ornaments, and baked goods of such persuasive charm that even the most resolute visitor found themselves gently coaxed into indulgence.

Yet beneath the cheerful civility, peculiarities stirred:

A creaking near the preserves table, though no jar dared move

A rustling among the knitted rabbits, despite the absence of any breeze

A crocheted owl whose gaze followed passers by with unsettling attentiveness

A soft fluttering near the fudge, prompting Miss Carter to murmur that “perhaps the spirits simply fancied something sweet”

The choir’s performance, however, was a triumph — drawing an appreciative audience and, some whispered, the attention of forces unseen.

🎶 Programme

It’s Raining Men The opening chords rang out with such force that the rafters appeared to shudder, as though the very roof feared an imminent downpour of improbable gentlemen.

Gospel Medley The harmonies ascended with the confidence of well bred ladies mounting a grand staircase, drawing the room upward in their wake.

Deep Down in My Soul The fervour of the piece summoned a draught that seemed to originate from no earthly door, brushing past ankles with quiet intent.

Hey Mr Miller The crocheted owl regarded the proceedings with the air of a vigilant chaperone, silently approving each rhythmic turn.

Spirit in the Sky A faint shimmer of light gathered near the far end of the room, as though some celestial visitor had paused to listen.

Walking on Sunshine The brightness felt almost indecorous within the ancient stone, as though cheerfulness had arrived without proper introduction.

Count on Me The harmonies settled into a unity as graceful as a well timed curtsey.

Dancing Queen Several knitted rabbits appeared to have shifted of their own accord — though no one wished to be the first to remark upon it.

🎶 The Choir Night Out

Saturday, 7pm — Bentinck Miners Welfare

The Bentinck Miners Welfare, though modest in size, was filled to capacity by the fashionable hour of twenty minutes past seven. The atmosphere was lively, the company delightful, and the refreshments taken with enthusiasm that bordered on the spirited.

Beer, cider, wine, and a genteel measure of gin were enjoyed, each sip contributing to the warmth of the evening and the increasingly confident handling of tambourines.

Shadows along the walls appeared to sway — whether in time with the music or of their own accord remains politely unconfirmed.

🎶 This Evening’s Rehearsal

A gentle solemnity settled over the church — perhaps owing to the approach of Good Friday — though it was swiftly countered by the determined cheerfulness of the altos. The church, apparently approving of this balance, allowed the lights to remain steady.

📋 Announcements of Note

Warm felicitations were extended to Helen K, who celebrated her birthday on Monday. A faint glow of joy was felt by several members; others insisted it was merely the radiator attempting to function.

A sheet of paper fluttered mysteriously despite all windows being firmly shut — perhaps in eagerness to share the following announcements:

The new rehearsal schedule for April to June has now been added to ChoirMate, and may be consulted by any member brave enough to navigate its labyrinth of dates.

The song list for the Summer Concert at The Hill Methodist Church, Kirkby in Ashfield, on the 20th of June at 7pm, is likewise available on ChoirMate, awaiting the diligent perusal of all performers.

The updated “What’s On” list is now posted, reflecting — with appropriate solemnity — the cancellation of September’s much anticipated curry night.

The trip to Bridlington on the 18th of July is now open to friends and family, with choir members travelling for £7.50 and guests for £10. Early interest suggests the outing may be spirited indeed — though one hopes only in the metaphorical sense.

A brief note of concern was raised regarding Miss Wooley’s early’evening skirmish with the music stand, which launched a most unprovoked assault upon her person. Though startled, she maintained her composure with admirable Regency dignity, and the stand — having been subdued and repositioned — behaved itself for the remainder of the rehearsal.

🧩 Matters of Decorum & Practicality

In the interest of maintaining both decorum and excellence, several gentle reminders were issued:

No mobile telephones are to be used during rehearsals, unless required for ChoirMate or other musical necessities. Devices emitting unexpected lights or noises shall be regarded with the same suspicion as a ghostly tapping in the vestry.

Greater attention to stagecraft is encouraged, for while standing perfectly still may suit a marble statue, it does little to enliven a performance. A touch of presence, poise, and theatrical awareness is most desirable.

More practice at home is earnestly requested, as Thursday evenings — delightful though they are — do not provide sufficient time to master every harmony before public performances. The music, like any fine acquaintance, benefits from regular visits.

The church emitted a soft creak at this point, which some interpreted as agreement.

🎬 Stagecraft for Public Performances

As explained with admirable clarity by Miss Weaver

To ensure that future concerts radiate confidence, joy, and a certain irresistible sparkle, Miss Weaver offered the following guidance:

Bring more energy to the songs, allowing the music to travel beyond the notes and into the hearts of the audience.

Smile, for nothing warms a room — or unsettles a ghost — quite like a choir in good spirits.

Enjoy yourselves, as audiences can always sense when performers are having a splendid time.

Dance, move, sway, or tap, for static performances are best left to statues and uncooperative furniture.

Concentrate on the harmonies across all sections — tenor, alto, and soprano — weaving the voices together like threads in a tapestry.

Members were reminded that posture is not merely a matter of vocal technique, but of general deportment; one must stand as though prepared to greet a visiting dignitary or, at the very least, a mildly judgemental aunt.

Choir members were encouraged to lift their gaze from their folders, for audiences respond warmly to a confident eye — and it prevents the shadows from believing they have the room entirely to themselves.

The church seemed to lean in, as though curious to hear whether these instructions would be obeyed.

🎤 Warm Up Exercises

Miss Wooley and Miss Weaver led the assembly through a series of preparatory exertions designed to awaken both voice and spirit. Proceedings began with deep, deliberate breathing, the kind that encourages the lungs to behave with dignity and purpose. This was followed by face pulling of such dramatic variety that one might have mistaken the choir for a gathering of Regency portrait subjects attempting to escape their frames. The warm up concluded with stretching and a gentle shaking out of limbs, executed with admirable grace despite the occasional creak from joints or floorboards — neither of which could be confidently attributed to the building alone.

At one point, Miss Weaver suppressed a familiar glint of mischief, as though quietly daring the church to contribute a creak or two of its own.

🎶 The Evening’s Musical Programme

Transition

With spirits lifted and shadows suitably appeased, the choir turned its attention to the evening’s musical endeavours.

Ob La Di, Ob La Da

Accompanied most jauntily by Miss Wooley upon the guitar. The opening chords danced through the room with such cheerful insistence that even the hymn books seemed to sit up straighter, as though bracing themselves for merriment they had not authorised. A few shadows flickered in the corners, perhaps startled by the sudden burst of optimism.

Happy — The Great Dispersal

For this piece, the choir was divided with quiet precision. Mr Alan Sheppard, the choir’s piano player and tenor, whose quick wit and infectious smile lent a rare warmth to the dimly lit room, remained in the main chamber, presiding at the piano like a steadfast sentinel. Around him, the four tenors gathered loyally — a small but resolute battalion, bound by harmony and quiet purpose.

Meanwhile, Miss Wooley and Miss Weaver vanished into the depths of the church, their footsteps fading into the dimness like heroines embarking upon separate but equally noble missions. Miss Wooley led the altos with calm authority, while Miss Weaver guided the sopranos with bright, purposeful energy.

Their voices drifted through corridors and doorways like three friendly hauntings, weaving in and out of the stonework. At one point, a distant harmony echoed back a fraction too late — not enough to alarm, but enough to suggest the building was attempting to join in.

☕ Tea, Coffee, Biscuits & Cake

Refreshments were served with impeccable grace by Gill B and Julie Franks Richards, with the welcome addition of cake — a development greeted with such enthusiasm that even the shadows seemed to lean forward for a better look. The kettle hissed with such intensity that several members wondered whether it, too, had opinions about the evening’s repertoire, and the cake vanished with a speed that suggested either great enthusiasm or supernatural assistance.

Washing up duties were undertaken by Gail and Barbara, who performed their task with admirable fortitude despite the persistent sensation that someone — or something — was observing from the cupboard’s vicinity.

🎶 After the Interval

Happy — Reprise

The altos, sopranos, and tenors reunited, harmonising together with renewed vigour — a tapestry of voices woven so neatly that even the rafters appeared to straighten in approval. The church offered a single approving creak.

E Malama

As the first notes rose, a hush settled over the room — not imposed, but invited. A faint scent of sea air drifted through the church, though no door had opened to admit it. The harmonies unfurled like a tide moving through ancient caverns, and for a moment the stone walls seemed to lean closer, listening with the patience of centuries.

Down in the River to Pray

The harmonies flowed with such serene conviction that one might have expected the stone floor itself to ripple in response. The melody wound its way upward, soft but resolute, as though calling to something unseen in the rafters. A single, well timed creak from above suggested that whatever dwelt there approved.

Ob La Di, Ob La Da — Reprise

This time accompanied by Mr Alan on the piano and Miss Wooley on the guitar, bringing the evening to a close with a flourish so cheerful that several music folders seemed to sit a little taller, as though proud of their contribution. The reprise burst forth with renewed brightness, scattering any lingering solemnity. The church itself seemed almost amused — the lights held steady, the shadows softened, and the air warmed as though the building had decided to indulge the choir’s cheerfulness for one final flourish.

🌙 Absent Friends

Several esteemed members were unable to join us. Their absence was felt as keenly as a missing harmony in a familiar refrain. We trust they are safe, warm, and well — and that they shall return to us in due course, restored in voice and spirit.

🕯️ Conclusion

As members departed into the cool evening air, many reflected that it was, after all, the Easter weekend — a time of renewal, contemplation, and, in some cases, the hopeful anticipation of chocolate.

Whether the faint rustling near the coat rack was merely the settling of the church or something more seasonal remains a matter of genteel speculation.

Yet spirits were high, voices were warmed, and all agreed that the choir would rise again — much like certain well known Easter themes — at the next rehearsal.

One imagined Miss Wooley would return with her customary composure, and Miss Weaver with that familiar glint that suggested she welcomed whatever mischief the next rehearsal might bring.

As the final switch was flicked and the church fell into darkness, a soft creak echoed from the rafters — a farewell, or perhaps a reminder that the building would be waiting.

Society, one trusts, will endure.