by Chris Curran
He reached over and grabbed her wrist. ‘You need to go back to the Smoke, back to your poncey boyfriend, and get on with your life.’ His grip was hard. ‘Until you do that you won’t get rid of me and you won’t be safe. And, although you might not believe it, I really want you to be safe.’
She looked down at her wrist, making sure her face didn’t show how scared she was. ‘What I do is none of your business.’
He let go of her wrist, running a finger down the side of his glass. ‘Ah, but it is, which is why I’m warning you. You could be in danger if you don’t stop this lark.’
‘There is no lark. I’m just here to see old friends.’ She tried to stare him out, but couldn’t prevent her eyes from dropping first. ‘Who could possibly care about that?’ she asked aware of how weak her voice sounded.
He leaned back and finished his drink. ‘That’s for me to know, Orchid love.’ Another flash of teeth as he said her name. ‘What you need to know is that I’ll be sticking around until you see sense. Unless that takes too long, of course.’
She was shaking, although whether with fear or anger she wasn’t sure. ‘And what if I go to the police?’
He took his coat from the back of his chair and stood looking down at her. He was smiling a different smile now and shaking his head. ‘Night, night, darling. Take my tip and have a good sleep then get the train back to London. I hear lover boy is missing you.’
She forced herself to finish her Coke, waiting for her heart to stop fluttering and her breath to calm. The barman called, ‘Last orders,’ and the old man who’d spoken to her tipped the last of his pint into his whisky glass, swilled it round and swallowed it. ‘No more for me, lads, I’d best get back.’
She followed him when he headed for the door. As she’d hoped he set off towards the Royal. But it didn’t matter because there was no sign of Bill, or whatever he was really called.
***
Next morning the sun had gone and the green sea lurched under a light drizzle. She hadn’t slept much, but when she scanned the street from her window there was no sign of Bill. She intended to go back to London today anyway, but she was glad she hadn’t weakened and told him that.
She had breakfast in the restaurant. The bacon was too crisp, the fried egg almost solid, and the toast barely warm, but she was hungry again and ate it all, thinking about last night. What the hell did Bill want? Who was he working for?
Outside she took an indirect route to the theatre and lingered staring at the billboards until she was sure Bill hadn’t followed her. The box office was open and a small queue waited for Mrs Shaw’s attention, but Bill wasn’t there either. The foyer was a bit tattier than Joycie remembered and looked smaller to her adult eyes, but otherwise much the same.
When Mrs Shaw had issued the final ticket she called out. ‘Come into the office, Joyce.’ It was a tiny room opening off the box office and Mrs Shaw sat behind the desk where she could see into the foyer. ‘I felt terrible after you went yesterday, love. I should have asked you to stay for dinner and I never gave you a chance to say why you’re here. It was such a shock seeing you after all this time, but that’s no excuse.’
Joycie smiled. ‘Of course it is. After what you told me about Pauline I couldn’t think of anything else either. But I was hoping you might know something about what happened to my mum. Why she left us like she did.’
Mrs Shaw walked to a shelf in the corner where a kettle stood. She held up a tin of Nescafé. Joycie shook her head and Mrs Shaw spoke as she made herself some coffee. ‘I only know what everyone said. That she’d fallen for someone else. Have to admit I was surprised. Your mum and dad were really fond of each other, you could tell that, and they both doted on you. But Mary was still young so …’ She shrugged and put her cup on the desk, looking over to the door as voices sounded from the foyer. ‘Won’t be a minute.’
When she came back after selling the tickets Joycie didn’t speak and Mrs Shaw looked into her cup as she stirred the coffee. ‘Did you notice The Bluebirds are here again this year? Dennis Bird should be in soon, so why not talk to him. You probably remember he was very friendly with your dad.’
***
Kay Bird was alone in the dressing room when Joycie opened the door. She stared for a moment, then her face creased into smiles and she jumped up to envelop Joycie in a scented hug. ‘Oh my giddy aunt, what are you doing here, you little star?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, just pulled Joycie to the dressing table, perching on it and gesturing for Joycie to take a chair.
Joycie felt herself flushing hot under Kay’s gaze. The Bluebirds were the youngest performers Sid and her dad appeared with regularly, and she had been in awe of the curvy blonde with her turned-up nose and infectious giggle. Kay had aged, must be in her thirties now, but still looked good, although her outfit – pink slacks and a mint green blouse with a huge bow at the neck – was like something Doris Day might wear. As always she was fully made-up and Joycie could see that her own appearance didn’t impress. ‘Who would have thought it, our little Joycie a famous model? I remember you in your scruffy trousers and boots with that awful cap they made you wear.’
Joycie laughed. ‘Don’t remind me.’ But Kay had jumped up and was pulling a white jacket from a hook on the door.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s get out of here, have a coffee and a sticky bun, and you can tell me all about your glam life and that dishy boyfriend of yours.’
Joycie didn’t move. ‘I was hoping to see Dennis too. Is he around?’
Kay’s face seemed to freeze and she put her jacket on slowly, buttoning it up and then undoing it again. ‘Look, Joyce, let’s go out and talk. Dennis hasn’t been too well and he doesn’t like being reminded of the old days. Things haven’t been easy for him.’
She opened the door, but when they heard footsteps in the corridor, she began to close it again. She was too late. Dennis, so changed Joycie hardly recognized him, stood staring at her. She made herself smile and say, ‘Hello, Dennis,’ surprised at how cheerful she managed to sound.
Dennis looked at his sister as if for help and she took his arm, talking with fake jollity as if he was very old or ill. ‘Look who’s come to see us, sweetie. It’s Joyce.’
Dennis seemed to shake himself and gave a tiny smile that was more like a wince. ‘Hello, Joyce, lovely to see you.’ His voice, which had always been so sweet, girlish even, sounded hoarse and he coughed, his eyes sliding sideways at Kay. ‘This calls for a drink,’ he said.
He came over to the dressing table and opened a drawer, taking out a bottle of gin and two glasses. ‘Kay doesn’t approve of drinking on show days,’ he said as he poured, ‘but this is a special occasion if there ever was one.’
Kay was still by the door. ‘It’s only eleven o’clock, Dennis. Let’s take Joyce for a coffee instead.’ She didn’t look at either of them, but Joycie could hear the pleading note in her voice and moved towards the door hoping Dennis would follow.
Instead, he almost pushed her back into her seat saying, ‘You go if you like, Kay. I want a nice chat with my old friend’s daughter, if that’s OK with you.’
Kay took off her jacket and sat next to Joycie. ‘Of course it is. Just don’t drink too much.’ Again that talking to an invalid tone. And Dennis certainly didn’t look well. Unlike Kay he had aged badly. He had always been small and slender, but now he was very thin. His hair, as thick and blond as ever, only emphasized the ruin of his face. There were deep grooves down his cheeks and lines across his forehead. Something had happened to his nose too, which had been as delicate as Kay’s, but now was bent and flattened.
He swallowed his gin in one gulp and poured another, tapping Joycie’s untouched glass with his own. ‘Come on, darling, never let a man drink on his own.’
She raised the glass. ‘Cheers, Dennis, but it’s a bit early for me.’
‘Funny you should turn up now. I was just thinking about Charlie.’ He gave a little laugh that could almost have been a sob and when Kay made
a sound he inclined his head towards her. ‘She doesn’t like me talking about him, but I bet you’d love to hear some stories of the old days, wouldn’t you?’
‘Only if you feel like it, Dennis.’
At that Kay pushed back her chair. ‘Oh for God’s sake.’ She stopped when she got to the door. ‘Try and stop him getting drunk, Joyce. I’m fed up of going on alone. Unbelievable though it is, he’s the one they come to see.’ She banged the door behind her.
Dennis took a sip of his drink and sighed. ‘Poor old Kay. She used to think we could make it big. Thought we’d be the next Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson, only we’d actually win the Eurovision Song Contest. But we were never that good anyway and now we’re out of date and my looks are shot so …’ His lips curled in another of those wincing smiles, but his eyes were glassy as he gulped more gin.
She closed her own eyes, but a vision of the handsome boy she remembered laughing with her dad flashed behind her lids and she opened them again. ‘What happened, Dennis?’
A wobbling laugh. ‘Your dad happened, the police happened, jail happened.’
So he had been arrested at the same time as her father. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were involved. Was it your letters they found him with?’
He nodded. ‘They wanted me to say he took advantage of me when I was underage, but I wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t let Charlie down. That’s when I got this.’ He gestured to his nose. ‘And there was worse when they locked me up.’ He gazed into space, his eyes fixed, reliving what horrors Joycie couldn’t bear to imagine.
‘I’m so sorry, Dennis.’ She wanted so much to say more, but could think of nothing that would help. Instead she reached for his hand, and when she squeezed he looked back at her with another of those painful smiles. ‘I didn’t even know you were arrested.’
‘Funny thing is they let me go after a week. Came and said I had no charges to answer. I couldn’t understand it, but when I got out Kay told me Charlie was dead.’
‘So they didn’t actually prosecute you? Was that because Dad had died?’
‘I suppose so, although they could still have used the letters to prove I was a raving pansy if they’d wanted to.’ His face crumpled and he looked suddenly young again, like a little boy in pain. ‘I loved Charlie, you know. Never believed in love at first sight, but that’s how it was with him, and I felt so angry when I heard he’d killed himself.’ He rubbed his hand over and over across his chest. ‘But then it was probably even worse for him than it was for me.’
For a moment the world seemed to stall as a series of nightmare images flashed in front of her. Her dad beaten and bloody, his handsome face destroyed, and worse, so much worse. Don’t, don’t think.
Dennis’s hand on her cheek brought her back. ‘Sorry, darling, shouldn’t have said that. And it’s all right, they can’t hurt him now. Charlie’s at peace.’
She was sure he didn’t believe that any more than she did. ‘You were very brave,’ she said. They sat for a while. Then he scrubbed his face and tried to smile at her, and she stood up. ‘Come on. We’ve upset Kay. Why don’t we find her and get that cup of coffee?’
He shook his head. ‘It was probably her, you know. Charlie and me were talking about throwing in the towel, getting out of the business and setting up on our own. Going in with some pals who had opened a nice little club in Soho. Charlie wanted you to have a real home too.’ A tear trickled down his lined cheek. ‘We were saving up.’
‘You think Kay reported you to the police?’ She hadn’t even thought of that.
‘She was jealous and scared. I said she could come with us, but she wanted to keep the act going. She would never have told on me, of course. Didn’t know about the letters. Must have expected them to follow him; to catch him doing a bit of cottaging or out trolling for rough trade.’ He looked at her seeming to realize who he was talking to. ‘But Charlie wasn’t like that, Joyce. We loved each other.’
‘Was that why my mum left him then? She found out about you?’
‘Oh, my darling, no. We didn’t get together until after she went and he always told me they loved each other. She had known what he was like for years and trusted him never to betray her. He couldn’t understand why she’d gone.’
When he reached for the bottle again Joycie put her hand on his. ‘Don’t, Dennis, please.’
They stayed looking at each other for a while then he lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. She felt his tears trickle through her fingers.
Chapter Nine
Dennis turned away and scrabbled in his pocket for a hankie as the dressing room door opened. It wasn’t Kay, but a young girl Joycie didn’t know. She held out a piece of paper, her face very pink, obviously star struck. ‘Sorry to bother you, but Mrs Shaw has had to pop out and she asked me to give you this.’
Joycie opened the note, hearing the girl’s breath loud beside her.
Dear Joyce,
Please let me make up for being so rude yesterday by giving you a proper tea. I’ll expect you about 4 o’clock, but if that’s not convenient of course I understand.
Yours,
April Shaw
Joycie smiled. She’d never known Mrs Shaw’s first name – Mr Shaw always called her, love or sometimes Mother. The girl was still panting beside her like a little dog with pepperminty breath. When Joycie looked back at her she flushed even redder and pulled a biro from her pocket. ‘Can I have your autograph? My name’s Sandra.’
Joycie turned the note over and signed the back: To Sandra with best wishes from Orchid XXX.’ She handed the paper to the girl with a smile. ‘Tell Mrs Shaw I’ll see her at four. And when I get back to town I’ll send you a photo,’ she said.
The girl almost bounced out of her shoes. ‘Oh, thank you, and can you get Marcus Blake to sign the photo too, please?’
Dennis looked at her. ‘All right, you’ve had your eyeful and your autograph, now bugger off.’
The girl twisted on her heel and flounced to the door. ‘OK, Dennis, keep your hair on.’
Dennis laughed, ‘See the respect I get. Come on, let’s go and find that bloody sister of mine.’
***
Kay was in a coffee bar close by. There was no sign of Bill, but the seafront was busy despite the drizzle and he was obviously good at keeping out of sight. Joycie ordered a coffee and an iced bun, but Dennis said he had to go. ‘Got to see a man about a dog.’ As he walked out he gave an airy wave looking, just for a moment, like the long gone young man Joycie remembered.
Kay shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, he’ll be all right.’
It was obvious she didn’t believe this so Joycie just smiled and stirred her coffee. The iced bun was bright pink and when she took a bite it tasted bright pink too.
Kay made patterns with her spoon in the layer of froth at the bottom of her wide glass cup. ‘He blames me for what happened to him and your dad. Thinks I reported Charlie.’
‘And did you?’
‘Of course not. Why would I?’
‘Dennis thinks you were scared the act would break up.’
Kay slammed her spoon onto the chrome tabletop. ‘So why doesn’t he suspect Sid? He was in the same boat.’
She’d thought of that, of course, but what Dennis said seemed to make more sense.
Kay pushed a blonde curl behind her ear with a sigh. ‘And it could have been someone else altogether. Someone who was jealous of your dad. I mean, the girls really went for him, but he wasn’t interested so who knows.’
Joycie nodded, looking over to the door as the bell rang, but it was only a young couple with a little boy. She wished she’d been able to sit where Kay was so she could see outside.
Kay was still speaking. ‘I remember the first time we worked with Sid. I saw Charlie and went all weak at the knees. That was when your mum was still around, must have been just before she left.’ She smiled. ‘I couldn’t help thinking what a shame it was that Charlie was married. Never thought he’d prefer Dennis to me.’
>
‘So you remember my mum? Do you have any idea what happened to her?’
Kay looked at her. ‘Ah, that’s what you’re after.’ She drank the foamy dregs from her cup. ‘Well she didn’t go because of Dennis, if that’s what you’re thinking. Like I said we had no idea Charlie fancied fellas. I just thought she went off with a boyfriend like everyone said.’
‘You see, I’ve found out she was planning to take me with her and I want to know why she didn’t.’
Kay touched her hand. ‘Oh, darling, all I can say is that in my experience most men are bastards and I can’t see lover boy, whoever he was, wanting a kid tagging along.’
It was the same thing she’d told herself all these years. But she no longer believed it. ‘I’ve been wondering if it was something to do with Sid. I mean, he was very possessive of Dad.’
Kay snorted a laugh. ‘Now come on, love, you can’t think there was anything like that going on between them two.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
‘You must know what Sid was like. It was the birds he fancied and the more the better. He tried it on with me once, but Dennis isn’t as girly as he looks and he soon saw him off.’
A real little tart aren’t you? Just like your mother. Joycie pushed the iced bun away and swallowed a gulp of coffee. It was like dishwater. Surely her mum must have known what Sid was like. So how could she leave Joycie in a situation like that? What had the letter said? I need to get away and I need to get Joyce away too.
‘Of course, Charlie was the one the girls went for. Always hanging about the stage door for him.’
‘I know they sometimes used to take girls to the pub or a club after the show.’
‘And your dad would slope off after a couple of drinks leaving good old Sid to take his pick.’
‘Do you think Sid had a go at my mum and that’s why she left?’
‘Oh no, darling. He wouldn’t have wanted to upset Charlie and anyway she was a bit old for him.’
‘She was only in her early thirties.’