Mr Starlight

by Laurie Graham

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t make any difference if I did. There won’t be any wedding and he won’t be having any babs. All he’ll get is called names. It makes me sad, Cled. It makes me very sad indeed.’

  TWENTY-THREE

  The first season we noticed things were changing was 1968. We had vacancies most weeks and some of our regulars didn’t come. People who’d stayed with us for years didn’t get in touch. Business went downhill pretty fast and it wasn’t only us. The Tal-y-Bont had vacancies too. Everybody said it was because of Spain. They said why would anybody come to Llandudno and get rained on when they could go to Spain and fry for nearly the same money. Personally, I couldn’t understand why folk would pay to get sunstroke and bad guts when we had beautiful scenery to offer and good clean water, but a new trend had set in and there wasn’t much we could do about it.

  Hazel said, ‘There’s not enough work for two of us. You’ll have to get a job.’ She kept circling adverts with her biro: warehouseman, school caretaker, transistor radio assembler. But as I said to Penri, my business was show business.

  ‘It is,’ he said.

  I said, ‘It’s in the blood, but somebody like Hazel, who’s only ever seen the mundane side of life, can’t understand that.’

  ‘Cledwyn,’ he said, ‘I’m going to share a thought with you. Turkey and Tinsel mini-breaks.’

  This was a new concept. A Christmas holiday with all the trimmings, but not at Christmas time and not at holiday season prices.

  Penri said, ‘They’re becoming very popular with pensioners. People who’d be at home on their own on Christmas Day or dragged round to their relatives. See, on a mini-break they have nice company and all the extras too. Things they wouldn’t bother with at home, paper hats and cranberry sauce. And entertainment. Party games and music from real artistes. Not the same old telly programmes year after year.’

  I said, ‘I see what you’re getting at. But we don’t have a lot of room for party games at Hazelwyn. And we usually do our redecorating in the winter.’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘bear with me. I didn’t mean Hazelwyn. I meant I’m starting to do them, at the Saltdene in Abergele. Christmas carols and seasonal singalong numbers. I’m getting an electric keyboard. It’s got built-in Bossa Nova rhythm and it fits into a case you can carry on the bus. Now, this is where you come in …’

  I said, ‘I don’t think I could ever play a plastic keyboard, Penri. I’ve been accustomed to quality instruments. I suppose I could offer myself to places that had a decent piano.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ he said. ‘There’s not that many openings in Tinsel and Turkey. I can’t have you muscling in on my territory.’

  I said, ‘I thought you said they were getting very popular?’

  ‘They are,’ he said. ‘But not that popular. What I meant was, you could take over from me at the Lorina School of Dance. I’ll gladly put in a word for you.’

  Hazel wasn’t very happy. She said, ‘You could have got that job at Gamble’s Shoes if you’d put your mind to it. Playing in a tinpot dance school! That’s not a proper job.’

  I said, ‘I’m using my professional skills. And if Jennifer Jane would care to learn ballet I can get her the classes half price.’

  Jennifer Jane said, ‘No thank you.’

  The Lorina wasn’t much but I did enjoy it. Ballet, tap, modern dance, whatever they needed I was the man. Madame Lorina found me to be a much more versatile musician than Penri Clocker. ‘You’ll go far,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve already been,’ I used to say.

  She meant well. She just had a tendency to forget what she’d been told. And it was through her I got the chance to play for the new summer show rehearsals at the Pavilion Theatre in Rhyl.

  Hazel said, ‘What time will you be back?’

  I said, ‘When you see me. It’s not a nine till five job.’

  ‘I know that,’ she said.

  Who can say? Perhaps if she hadn’t been so sarcastic, perhaps if she’d shown more interest in my work, I might not have strayed. Then again, we’d started putting up travelling salesmen and some of them treated the place like home. For all I know she may have slipped one of them an extra rasher.

  Anyway, there I was at the Rhyl Pavilion, trying to rehearse a strangulated tenor, when love walked right in and drove the shadows away. It was little Avril, who’d debuted at the Birmingham Welsh the same night Sel collapsed with suit poisoning. I said, ‘It may be twenty years but you don’t look a day older.’

  ‘Strike a light!’ she said, ‘I’d never have remembered you. How did you recognise me?’

  I said, ‘I never forget a cleavage.’

  ‘Sel Boff’s brother!’ she said. ‘I’ve told that story a few times! How I cradled him in my arms till the ambulance came. Remember the colour of him? We thought he’d had it. But look at him now. Hasn’t he done well?’

  You get used to it. People being so dazzled with your brother they overlook your achievements. Later on, after she’d heard my success story, Avril was putty in my hands.

  I said, ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Looking for Bryn,’ she said. ‘It’s time we were making a move.’

  There I was, rehearsing the new Bryn Reynolds Summer Spectacular and there she was, Mrs Bryn Reynolds herself.

  I said, ‘I heard you played the Birmingham Hippodrome.’

  ‘I did,’ she said. ‘Then I married Face Ache. Moved to Knutsford and called it a day.’

  Reynolds was an impresario. He put shows on all over the northwest; variety shows for families who still came on proper holidays.

  I said, ‘It would have been nice to go for a lemonade. Catch up on the lost years.’

  ‘Can’t do it,’ she said. ‘We’re due in Manchester at seven. Next time you talk to Sel tell him I’ve never forgotten that night. I always say, if only he’d opened his eyes and looked up, seen what I had to offer, he might have turned out normal. Know what I mean?’

  I said, ‘Well, I’m told Sel was probably a lost cause from day one. But you certainly improved my circulation. Still are doing, as a matter of fact.’

  She said, ‘I could always drive over next week.’

  I said, ‘That’s a long drive for a lemonade.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something else, to make it worth my while.’

  Little scorcher.

  We started seeing each other, once a week in the beginning. I lived for those Mondays. Avril gave me a welcome in the hillsides and no mistake.

  ‘Extra rehearsals,’ I used to tell Hazel.

  She’d say, ‘Anybody would think it was Covent Garden.’

  No disrespect to Hazel, but she never had Avril’s allure. Hazel was the kind of girl you marry. And the only trouble was the back of a motor isn’t very satisfactory, especially not at our time of life. There was Penri’s house. I could have come to some kind of arrangement with him. But I didn’t dare. It was too close to home.

  I said, ‘Of course, if you left Bryn and I left Hazel …’

  ‘Now, Cled,’ she said, ‘let’s not have any silly talk. If only you could get a summer season somewhere, then we could have ourselves a little love nest.’

  And blow me down if Bryn Reynolds didn’t ask to see me the following week, greeted me like an old friend. ‘Cled,’ he said, ‘you were a pro at one time, I know. I might have something for you. Aberystwyth. Bobby Bly’s got gallstones. I’d need you for ten weeks.’

  I said, ‘I’ll take it.’

  Bryn said, ‘Think about it. Let me know tomorrow.’

  I said, ‘I don’t need to. I’ll take it.’

  Hazel said, ‘You might have asked me first.’

  I said, ‘It’s the chance of a lifetime.’

  She said, ‘It’s Aberystwyth, Cled. Where does that leave me?’

  ‘Running Hazelwyn as per,’ I said. ‘I can drive back on Saturday nights, if you like. There’s no show on Sundays. And I can go back
on Monday mornings.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘you’ve obviously got it all worked out.’

  Jennifer said, ‘What is it you’re going to be doing?’

  I said, ‘Playing the piano.’

  ‘Who for?’ she said. ‘Is Uncle Sel coming?’

  My own child and yet she had no concept of me as a solo artiste.

  I was in a very presentable line-up at Aberystwyth. Barry Maguire was top of the bill, doing impersonations. Then there was a black tap dancer, a vent act called Titch and Lofty, a troupe of yodelling dachshunds and a couple who sang light operetta. I closed the first half with a piano medley called ‘Through the Decades’, everything from Scott Joplin to Gilbert O’Sullivan. And when the show ended I wasn’t finished. Two or three nights a week I had Avril waiting for me at our digs. We told the landlady we were Mr and Mrs Boff but she must have had her suspicions, the amount of wear we gave that bed. Saturday nights after the show I’d drive home to see the family and get my laundry done. It was very hard to act natural when I was feeling so happy.

  Hazel used to say, ‘You’re in a good mood. You’d better go to Aberystwyth every summer.’

  But it was Rhyl and Prestatyn Bryn offered me for the following season.

  Hazel said, ‘I suppose that means you’ll be home every night?’

  I could see my arrangements with Avril about to go down the toilet.

  Hazel said, ‘The thing is, Cled, I can’t have you rolling home late, banging doors and waking my gentlemen. They have to get up in the morning and do a day’s work.’

  I said, ‘Perhaps it’d be better if I stayed in digs. Just came home on the weekend like last year?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it would.’

  It wasn’t a brilliant line-up. Stan Butterworth, the balloon magician, a mime act from Poland, a comedy duo called Howie & Frank, and a vocalist called Dudley Ellis. Ticket sales were very slow to start with. I think it was because the weather was pleasant. Rain is what you pray for when you’re doing a summer spectacular. What made the difference was a little idea I’d had with my friend Penri Clocker. A promotional disc. I got Avril to float the idea with Bryn.

  ‘Cled,’ he said, ‘I’ve had a brainwave. We should cut a disc promoting the show. Dudley on vocals, you on backing.’

  I said, ‘That’s a very good idea, and funny you should bring it up because I’ve got the very song for you.’

  ‘“Summer Holiday”,’ he said. ‘It’s obvious.’

  As I explained to Penri, Bryn Reynolds was a man who was used to getting his own way, but every cloud has a silver lining and every record has a flip side. And the main thing was Radio Conwy played it all day, every day. ‘Summer Holiday’ on the A side and, on the B side, a Boff and Clocker original: ‘Rhyl!’.

  By the end of that summer everybody was singing it. Why we weren’t able to get it properly reissued I shall never understand.

  I said to Jennifer Jane, ‘Now what do you think of your old dad, eh? Now I’m in the hit parade? I’ll bet they’re all talking about it at school.’

  She said, ‘I’m afraid they are.’

  She cracked me up.

  I said, ‘Great elms from little acorns grow. This year Rhyl. Next year, who knows. Blackpool, maybe.’

  Hazel said, ‘I wonder if fame is going to change you?’

  Her sneering didn’t bother me. I was on the up. I was back where I belonged, tinkling the ivories, name on every bus shelter in town. There was only one worry on my mind: Bryn. If he’d ever found out about me and Avril it would have been the end of my career revival.

  But Avril never appeared to worry about anything. ‘Relax!’ she’d say. ‘He thinks I’m at the hydro getting beautified.’

  ‘Relax!’ she’d say. ‘He’s in Lytham looking at a new venue.’

  And then he turned up, just before the matinée one Wednesday. It was towards the end of the season. ‘Cled,’ he said, ‘a word.’

  I could hardly hear what he was saying for the blood pounding in my ears. Avril was supposed to be in Wilmslow, at a ladies golf lunch, but she was actually two streets away, luxuriating after a morning of love.

  ‘That brother of yours,’ he said. ‘Mr Moonshine?’

  ‘Starlight,’ I said.

  Bryn said, ‘Yeah! Whatever became of him?’

  That’s the cruelty of show business. One minute you’re a top-liner, next thing you’re just a custard advert. Sel was getting by. He compèred a daytime talent show on the telly, talking to the turns and singing a couple of songs, and he still did celebrity appearances with Mam, cutting the tape to open new shopping centres. He performed live sometimes too. They still liked him in Vegas and he was part owner of a club called the Double Down, so he wasn’t hurting for money. When that terrible business happened in Aberfan he’d sent them a very handsome cheque. But times had changed. He’d tried going more rockified, but that didn’t suit him, and there wasn’t the same romantic interest in him, because of the stories about boys. Women had come to their senses. Some women. So, sadly, he hadn’t managed to stay at the top and to a lot of people that’s the only place that counts. They soon start asking, ‘Whatever became of him?’

  I said, ‘He’s still out there. Why?’

  He said, ‘I’d like to get him over here next summer. A name from the past always pulls them in.’

  I said, ‘Where?’

  ‘Morecambe,’ he said. ‘The Winter Gardens.’

  I said, ‘You offered me Morecambe.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘The pair of you. The Boff Brothers reunited.’

  I said, ‘Not the Boff Brothers. That’s history. We’d have to have separate billing. I’ve got my own following now, since “Rhyl!”.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Whatever. Tell him to call me.’

  I said to Sel, ‘I know you won’t be interested but I’m just delivering a message.’

  ‘Don’t be so sure I’m not interested,’ he said. ‘I’ve never turned work down on account of a modest venue. There are folks who go to Morecambe who’ll never get the chance to come to Vegas and who am I to deprive them? They all buy records.’

  Hazel said, ‘Oh, how lovely! And tell him he’s to come back here with you on the weekends. I don’t want him staying in a hotel when he can be with family. Tell him I can see to his costumes.’

  Avril said, ‘Great news about Sel. I can’t wait to see him again. Has he still got those lovely dimples?’

  I said, ‘He’s no kid any more.’

  She said, ‘Do you know who he always reminded me of? Audie Murphy in Red Badge of Courage. Anybody else ever remark on that?’

  As I pointed out to her, Audie Murphy was a hero. Audie Murphy got the Medal of Honor. Whereas Sel didn’t even get through basic training.

  ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘He had a sweet face and he taught me a thing or two. It was him told me I should pile my hair up on top and catch it with a rhinestone pin.’

  I said to Penri, ‘I’m beginning to think this is a mistake. I can’t have him taking over.’

  He said, ‘You’ll have to be very firm.’

  I said, ‘He’s got to realise I’m in the driving seat now.’

  ‘You are,’ he said.

  Then Bryn undermined me.

  Sel’s costumes arrived at the end of April. Two big trunks with everything rolled in tissue paper.

  Hazel was like a kid on Christmas morning. ‘Look at the work that’s gone into these,’ she kept saying. ‘And beautiful colours. One thing about Sel, he’s not afraid to wear colours. Try one on, Cled. I’d love to see you in lilac.’

  That was a joke. Sel must have been nudging thirteen stone by then.

  She said, ‘You look like a clown in it.’

  Not the only one, neither.

  I said, ‘You’re always going on about not inconveniencing your gentlemen and now look at the place. Sequinned jackets hanging everywhere. It’s like living in Santa’s grotto.’

  ‘They’re no
t inconveniencing anybody,’ she said. ‘They’re a talking point.’

  I said to him, ‘You’ve sent far too much gear. A few of those glittery bow ties would have done. If that. Audiences don’t care about that kind of thing any more.’

  ‘I care,’ he said.

  He arrived the first week of May. Mam didn’t come with him.

  I said, ‘I suppose she’s getting frail?’

  She was eighty-one.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘She’s fitter than you are. She’s too busy to come. She’s shooting a new advert. It’s an electric armchair that does everything: reclines, rocks, vibrates, mixes you a Martini. And anyway, she wouldn’t leave Ricky. She thinks if she leaves him with Pearl for five minutes he’ll start turning black.’

  Young Ricky wasn’t getting on with Larry, his stepdad, so he’d moved to Desert Star to live with Sel and Mam. ‘Just till things calm down,’ he said. ‘Mam understands boys.’

  He stayed at Hazelwyn for a couple of nights, to humour Hazel. He said, ‘So, Jennifer Jane, it turns out you’ve inherited your mummy’s brains as well as her good looks.’

  She had her head in a book all the time, studying hard. She was hoping to become a doctor.

  ‘Good job,’ he said. ‘If you’d taken after your daddy you’d have turned out daft, with no hair.’

  She said, ‘I’m not Jennifer Jane any more. I’m Jennifer.’

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I stand corrected. And are you going to come to Morecambe, see your Uncle Sel in action?’

  ‘Don’t think so,’ she said.

  I said, ‘This is what television’s done to entertainment. Nobody can be bothered going to a live show these days, not unless you offer them Herman’s Hermits or the Gee Bees.’

  He said, ‘I can’t complain about TV. It’s been good to me. Anyway, I’m here to enjoy myself. And I’ve had people recognising me already, this afternoon when I was out.’

  I said, ‘That was because you were the only man going up the Great Orme in a white leather suit.’

  Hazel said, ‘Well, I’ll be coming to Morecambe to see you, Sel.’ She’d never bothered to come and see my shows. Just as well, though. It might have led to complications with Avril.