***

"OK, give me one of these," Yolanda said decisively, grabbed a ticket from under Rhys' palm, and headed to the stage.

On the way she crossed paths with Fenton, who seemed to be heading to the bar. She caught his sleeve, pulled him down, and whispered something in his ear. He threw a quick look at Viola - and then nodded to Yola. He then turned around and followed Yolanda onto the stage.

'They Can't Take That Away From Me' never sounded better. Yolanda had an excellent voice - crisp and full, reminiscent of Natalie Cole - and her duet with Fenton sounded like something from a Rat Pack film. After the song was over, Fenton kissed her hand and gave Yolanda a courteous bow.

"I'm starting to think Dr. Fenton should've joined the Festival years ago!" Mable exclaimed. "Who knew that this sort of a dapper gentleman has been hiding under the mask of a malcontent recluse?"

"Perhaps, he just needed a good reason to come out of his shell," Sam drew out and gave Viola a cheeky look.

Rhys rose, and on his way from their table he gave Sam a light smack to the back of his head. Sam grinned from ear to ear. Viola realised she'd missed his smiles. Contrary to Viola's expectations, Rhys didn't go onto the stage. He made a circle around the pub giving out the tickets, clearly being strategic about who was offered one, meaning he excluded Fenton and James Whitlaw who was now occupying another booth with a small group of his peers, neither of which was offered a ticket either. Those were only women and married men who were deemed worthy of Rhys' generosity - and he got smiles and claps on the shoulder as gratitude. He grinned, chatted, and then he was back to their booth - with only two tickets left in his hand.

"Well, at least we'll only have to endure your singing twice," Yola said, sitting back down.

John had just come back from the bar with the next round of drinks, and she gave him a thankful nod.

"I don't think I'll sing tonight," Rhys said pensively and tapped the tickets to his left palm. "Wouldn't want to be the second best to our dear doctor."

He put the tickets down on the centre of the table. They listened to the residents of Fleckney sing Martin, the Sinatras, and Nina Simone - with a varied degree of success. After some time, Rhys paid for the drinks for everyone in the pub - which gained him even more support from the crowd. Fenton continued drinking alone at the bar, although Viola could see he was repeatedly approached by female patrons. Once, their eyes accidentally met, and he saluted her with his Scotch. She returned the gesture with her red.

After about an hour, John picked up the ticket from the table - and serenaded Clem with 'Some Kind of Wonderful.' The pub burst into applause when he was done, and Viola couldn't stop smiling looking at these two lovebirds. They were, as the saying went, a match made in Heaven. Sitting down, John leaned and kissed Clem's cheek and then touched his nose to hers. Clem squinted and giggled.

"So, is this ticket going to waste then?" Sam asked and tapped the last ticket with his long index finger.

"A duet, perhaps, Viola?" Rhys said, pressed his finger into the ticket, and shifted it closer to Viola.

"That would be unfair," she murmured and gave him a teasing look.

"What's unfair about that?" he asked, well-aware what she meant, if the twinkling in his eyes was any indication.

"Because she didn't sing a duet with Dr. Fenton, you clot," Clem said, and John barked a laugh and quickly kissed her cheek.

"Exactly," Rhys said, without breaking eye contact with Viola. "So what do you say, Vi? We've never sung together," he murmured and leaned closer to her. "You might like it."

Viola would like to say it was that third glass of Mrs. Owens' excellent Malbec that was making her play along - except, she was still pretty sober. It was his beard, and his soft lips curling in a cocky lop-sided smirk, twisting his moustache above the left corner of his mouth in a small coil of his harsh whiskers that her fingers were simply itching to touch! She met his eyes and studied the hazel streak in his blue iris - and then she tilted her head and gave him a closed lip smile.

"I think, I have a better idea," she murmured, sharply got up, and snatched the ticket from the table.

"Go, Viola!" Yolanda cheered, and Clem joined her.

It took Viola about two dozen steps to get to the stage, and she prohibited herself to give in to the tsunami of anxious thoughts that exploded in her mind - what if her voice broke, what if no one listened, what if her singing was met with dead silence, what if– Stop it, Viola. You can do it. Just close your eyes for a second and imagine that it's just you, Yolanda, and the Holyoakes in the pub. And maybe, Alan.

She quickly scrolled through the list of songs, ignoring what felt like the eyes of every single person in the pub on her, and the murmur that ran through the audience - and then she knew just what song to pick.

She lowered her eyes to the floor, inhaled, and pulled the first note.

You don't own me/ I'm not just one of your many toys/

She sharply looked up and ran her unseeing eyes around her audience.

You don't own me/

That was the moment when she shot a flirty side glance towards the Holyoakes' booth.

Don't say I can't go with other boys

She drew breath again, and shifted her gaze onto the bar.

And don't tell me what to do/ Don't tell me what to say/ And please, when I go out with you/ Don't put me on display

The more she sang, the stronger her voice was growing - and the easier it was to remember why Yolanda and her had gotten into karaoke in the first place.

I don't tell you what to say/

Oh, don't tell you what to do/

So just let me be myself/

That's all I ask of you

The last note was still trembling in her throat and on her lips, when the cheering and the applause started. She realised she had her eyes closed, and they flew open, and she looked around the pub. The Holyoakes with the exception of Nana were all standing and clapping, and soon most of the people in the pub joined them. Viola smiled - just as they used to teach her in the dance school, to everyone and no one in particular at the same time - took a bow, and slowly walked off the stage. Her head was spinning, and her hands shook - and then suddenly Rhys was in front of her, and she looked up.

He started leaning in, and she didn't have a chance to decide whether she was allowing him to kiss her, or perhaps she wanted to stop him - when Yolanda was suddenly near her, grabbing her hands and giving them a shake.

"Blimey, Vivi, that was ace! Tell me there is some sort of a prize, because you're the winner!" Yolanda hollered into Viola's face. "That was brilliant! Wow!"

A few acquaintances approached them, and Viola smiled, and nodded, and thanked them for the compliments. The whole time she was acutely aware of Rhys who stood a few steps to her right - and of Fenton, still sitting at the bar.

Clem pushed Viola back to their table, chattering excitedly about Viola's performance. Viola sat down, and Rhys took the chair next to her, because Sam wasn't at the table. Rhys pushed her glass to her.

"Have a sip?" he said softly. "That was blinding, Vi." She picked up her wine and took a small sip. "I didn't know you–" he started, leaning to her, his hand lying on her shoulder.

He never finished his sentence, because suddenly Sam was standing in front of their table. At the view of his distressed face, Viola froze with the glass lifted to her lips.

"Rhys, I need– Can we speak for a mo?" he said, and Rhys turned to him, shifting away from Vi.

"What's wrong?"

Viola saw Mable abandon her conversation with Clem and listen attentively now.

"It's– Semra," Sam said and for some reason showed Rhys his phone. "She self discharged from the rehab, and–"

Rhys rose and stepped around the table to his brother.

"I'd drive there now," Sam spoke hurriedly. "But I'm not sure whether to go, or go to Pat and Lily– I just– I don't want you to go with me, but–" Sam seemed to tangle in his words, and a pained grimace ran his face.

"What do you need?" Rhys said sharply. "Just tell me what you need."

He rose as well now, and then John jumped to his feet.

"I'll go check on Pat and Lily, because I can't know if she'll show up, and whether she'll come... alone," Sam said to Rhys, and looked at the rest of the people at the table. "I'm sorry, I'll–"

"Don't apologise," Clem exclaimed. "You two need to go, check on what's happening."

"The little'uns are with Fiona and Will, and I'm just–" Sam took a shuddered breath. "One of us needs to be there, in case something–"

"Go," Rhys said and started rummaging in his pockets. "I'll drive to the rehab, find out what happened."

"I'll look after Clem and Nana," John said quickly. "Go, go you two."

Viola hadn't failed to notice how she and Yola were left out of that situation. Sam was gone a second later. Before leaving, Rhys turned back to the table, looked at Viola, and then quickly bent down and kissed her lips.

"Damn it, that's not how this evening–" he muttered, stopped himself and shook his head. "Have a good night, Vi. Yola." He gave Yolanda an apologetic smile and left.

"Keep us posted," Nana shouted after them.

Suddenly, there were just the five of them. Viola looked around, stunned by the contrast between the pub crowd who were still laughing, discussing singers, and drinking - and the jarring emptiness of the chair next to her.