What She Has Done for My Soul
The night of TOSCA’s Christmas concert arrives. Morse dresses smartly in his best dress suit with a red tie for the occasion. He greets his fellow choir members and stands with the other tenors in the back row. He flips through his music fussily, looking for the first song.
“You’re more tense than usual, Morse,” says his neighbor, Michael. “What’s gotten into you? You’re never nervous.”
Morse clears his throat, adjusting his tie. “My fiancee’s in the audience.”
Michael, who is approximately ten years his senior, raises his eyebrows. “Well. Congratulations, Morse. Remind me I owe you a drink at the after-party.”
Morse blushes. “Thanks, Michael.”
The conductor taps his stick on his music stand, and the choir members straighten to attention. Morse finds himself standing impossibly straighter, hoping the soft lighting makes him look good. He wants to impress Norah.
The choir begins by singing “Silent Night” in Latin; a TOSCA tradition. Morse hopes Norah is enjoying it.