One Night Only

by Sue Welfare

  ‘Oh, you know,’ he said. ‘So-so …’ and then Harry laughed. ‘Makes it sound like we only saw each other last week. Actually I’m fine, business is okay, and I’m really pleased you came back to see us at long last. How does it feel to be home?’

  ‘Odd,’ said Helen, any last lingering fears rapidly dissipating; Harry might be older but this was the gentle sweet man she remembered, the Harry she knew and loved.

  ‘Well, it shouldn’t, not that much has changed since you left. We’ve still always got the kettle on. Why don’t you come on through to the back and we’ll have that tea and cake. You’re all right minding the shop, are you, Lorna?’

  The girl nodded and visibly relaxed as the crew turned all their attention to Helen and Harry.

  ‘Great,’ said Felix. ‘And can we cut there please? I was thinking we could maybe set up in the back room. It’ll stop us being interrupted by customers as well. Is it okay if we go through and take a bit of a butcher’s?’

  Harry nodded. ‘Sure, help yourself. Just straight through; you can’t miss it.’

  Felix, followed by everyone else, went through into the stockroom, and then peered around the door into the office. ‘It’s a bit cramped,’ he said over his shoulder as the cameraman leaned in to give a second opinion.

  ‘And, I’m thinking,’ said Felix, ‘that we’re probably going to need some extra light in here. But it looks great in terms of texture – especially over there, all the boxes and stuff – it looks like something out of the fifties. Okay, let’s get a wriggle on, we’re on the clock here, boys and girls. And we’re going to need an extension lead for the lights.’

  Harry glanced across at Helen. ‘And you’re saying it’s always like this?’

  ‘More or less. Give or take – although it’s much easier in a studio.’

  ‘It would drive me mad.’

  Helen smiled. ‘It’s what I signed up for. Are you okay with all this? Please say something if it’s too much, Harry. It seems a bit crazy. I don’t see you for God knows how many years and then plunge you straight into the middle of all this. It’s a hell of way to have a reunion. We can go back and film it at the hotel if you’d prefer? They’d just set up and film us talking –’

  Harry shook his head, as the crew busily ferried things from the car. ‘No, it’s fine. It’s quite interesting really. I’ve often wondered how they do it.’

  One of the crew came back from the car carrying a light stand.

  ‘Okay,’ said Felix. ‘I’m thinking it would be great if we just followed you through from the shop into here. You all right with that?’

  The cameraman, peering down the viewfinder gave him an a-ok, finger and thumb gesture.

  ‘Cool, so if you stand over there and then could you just lift the flap in the counter and let Helen through, Harry, and then just walk towards the camera, talking. Anything you like, in your own time then,’ Felix said, waving Helen and Harry into action.

  Harry pulled himself up to his full height and straightened his tie. ‘Real leading man material,’ Helen laughed. ‘You’re a natural.’

  Harry blushed. ‘They said that you’re going to be doing your show at the Carlton Rooms tomorrow night,’ he said conversationally, lifting the counter so that they could trail through into the back room. ‘It’ll be just like old times, you up there on the stage. Maybe you should get Kate up there to do a number with you, I bet she’d love that – it would be just like the good old days.’

  Helen stared at him. ‘Kate?’

  ‘Sorry, yes, Charlotte, although she still prefers to be called Kate. Her stage name and all that. You know what she’s like. It sounds younger she reckons. She’s still singing,’ he said. ‘She’s doing quite well locally, actually.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ said Helen, totally wrong-footed. Of course Charlotte was still around; why wouldn’t she be? Helen hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to talk about Charlotte. All these years and even her name had the power to stop Helen in her tracks. ‘And you’re still her manager, are you?’ she said as lightly as she could manage.

  Harry laughed and indicated that Helen should go through towards the back room. ‘After a fashion. She’s still as headstrong as she ever was, always got her own ideas and her own way of doing things, has our Kate – you must remember what she was like,’ Harry said sheepishly, and then he glanced at the camera crew and Natalia, who was standing behind the camera. ‘I suppose you know that Kate and Helen used to sing together. They were very good. Really. I always thought they should have made a go of it as a duo.’ And then turning back to Helen he said, ‘Have you been to see Adam yet?’

  Natalia, answering for her, shook her head. ‘No, not yet.’

  Helen looked from one to the other. ‘Adam? I’m not with you. Who is Adam?’

  ‘What do you mean, who is Adam?’ Harry laughed, and when she didn’t react his expression clouded. ‘I thought that’s why you had come back home, Helen. To see Adam. Adam, your son,’ he said slowly.

  Helen felt her jaw drop. ‘My son?’ she murmured.

  ‘Yes,’ said Harry. ‘I assumed that’s why you were here.’

  ‘Someone please tell me we got that,’ said Felix, somewhere on the periphery of Helen’s hearing.

  NINE

  Backstage at the Carlton Rooms Helen tucked the business card that Ed had given her into her bag and hurried upstairs to find Charlotte and give her the good news about meeting up with Leon Downey. As soon as she opened the double doors onto the first-floor landing the noise from the female dressing room hit her like a wall. It sounded more like a gull colony than a changing room, with great shrieks of laughter and the babble of dozens of voices. The air was thick with the scent of cigarette smoke, mixed with sweat and perfume.

  It was hot, too, and Charlotte was right; it was packed. The main communal changing area was so full that many of the women and girls had spilled out into the corridor, and were camping out on the benches along the walls, doing their makeup in hand mirrors and getting changed where they could, all the while smoking and laughing and chattering away to each other.

  Helen stood on tiptoe trying to spot Charlotte in the melee. Eventually she saw her over by the door that led out onto the fire escape. Charlotte was busy unzipping a dress carrier that she had managed to hang up over a wall light.

  ‘So you made it, then,’ said Charlotte grimly, as Helen eased her way through the crush of people.

  ‘Sorry it took me so long. It really is crazy up here, isn’t it?’

  Charlotte handed Helen her costume. ‘You can say that again. Did you manage to find Harry?’

  ‘No, but I saw that man who told you he was going to talk to Leon Downey about us. Vince somebody?’

  ‘Well, that’s good.’ Charlotte’s eyes lit up. ‘So what did he say?’

  ‘He wanted to know if we’d like to go for a drink with him after the show.’

  ‘Who, Vince?’ asked Charlotte eagerly.

  Helen nodded. ‘Yes, him and Leon Downey – he said –’

  But Charlotte had heard enough and was already shrieking with delight. ‘Leon Downey? Are you telling me that Leon Downey wants to take us out for a drink?’ she said, practically bouncing up and down with delight and excitement.

  Helen nodded. ‘That’s what Vince said.’

  Charlotte let out another great whoop that made the women around them turn around and glare at her. ‘See, I told you, didn’t I? This is it, Helen, this is our big chance. God, that is just fantastic. I knew that we’d made an impression. What did you say? You did say yes, didn’t you?’

  Helen hesitated, unsure whether she should share her sense of unease. It must have shown on her face because Charlotte grimaced. ‘Oh for goodness’ sake, don’t tell me that you said no?’

  ‘No, of course I didn’t say no,’ said Helen reddening. ‘But –’

  ‘Go on, so what is it now? Oh don’t tell me, you told him that you had to stay in and wash your hair? Oh no, wait. I know, you told
him we could go, but you had to get in early because you had to get up to go to this bloody film thing tomorrow and traipse around barefoot in the mud.’

  Helen cringed. ‘No, of course I didn’t tell him that, it was nothing like that. I just got this bad feeling about him, Charlie. He struck me as being really creepy.’

  ‘Who, Leon Downey?’

  ‘No, Vince, the man from the theatre. He said they would meet us after the show. Leon Downey and Vince – he was kind of shifty. It’s hard to put my finger on …’

  Helen was aware that Charlotte was staring at her. ‘We’re going for a drink with a top London agent and your instincts tell you that the guy who gave you the message was a bit shifty?’ Charlotte snapped incredulously. ‘Are you nuts? We’re just going to a drink with them –’

  Helen nodded. ‘I thought I ought to say something.’

  ‘Well you’ve said it now,’ Charlotte said looking heavenwards. ‘For God’s sake give me strength. Just grow up, will you? It doesn’t matter how shifty Vince is as long as we get to meet Leon. Don’t you see? This is our big chance, Helen. The last thing we need now is for you to screw up again. We just have a drink with him, see what he has to say and take it from there.’ She paused. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Okay, but I was thinking.’ Helen bit her lip. ‘How about if we took Harry along with us?’

  Charlotte sighed. ‘And just how is that going to look? Like we’re kids who can’t be trusted out on our own? Besides, I’ve got more backbone than Harry.’

  ‘No,’ Helen protested. ‘It won’t look like that at all. I thought maybe it would look more professional. Come on, it was you who suggested that Harry should be our manager.’

  ‘Well, I’ve changed my mind since then, and anyway it was you who said we should wait before signing Harry up. Why don’t we see what Leon’s got to say first before we start involving Harry. And anyway he can be such an old woman, we’d probably be better taking my dad along.’

  ‘Maybe that would be a good idea,’ suggested Helen. ‘You said he was coming to see the show tonight, didn’t you? Why don’t we ask him? He’d be ideal –’

  Charlotte shot her a killer look. ‘You cannot be serious. That was meant to be a joke, Helen.’

  ‘But your dad is a businessman, Charlotte. He knows about making deals and contracts, and all that kind of thing. He might be able to help us. And people respect your dad – Vince and Leon wouldn’t try and mess us around if he was there.’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake. I really don’t think so,’ Charlotte snapped. ‘And who says they’re going to mess us around? We can handle this – or at least I can. I’m good at getting what I want. Oh, and remember when we’re with Leon and Vince, that it’s Kate. Kate and Helen.’

  ‘We could always just tell him that Harry is our manager, say that we’d already got one – that would look professional. And Harry did get us a run-through, and the sound checks,’ Helen said, clutching at straws

  ‘This is about our whole career, Helen, not one poxy night in the Carlton Rooms. Our future, Helen. We don’t want to saddle ourselves with Harry if someone like Leon Downey is interested in taking us on. And you said yourself that we shouldn’t come to any snap decisions. No, I think we are much better going out to meet him on our own.’ As Charlotte spoke she slipped her costume off its hanger. ‘Anyway, we haven’t got time to talk about it now – you need to get changed. That photographer wants to take some photos of us for the local paper, remember?’

  Helen glanced around at the crush of other women. ‘Shouldn’t we go into the loo or something?’

  ‘Have you seen the state of the loos?’ Charlotte laughed. ‘Bloody hell, come on, Helen, no one is going to be looking at you. Have you got a mirror with you?’

  ‘Only the one in my handbag.’

  ‘That’ll have to do then, can you find it for me? Come on, we need to get a move on.’ Without another word Charlotte shucked off her jeans and jumper and dropped them into her bag. Helen couldn’t help but stare at her; Charlotte was wearing tiny, white, bikini-style knickers dotted with rosebuds, and a matching bra with under-wiring, which gave her a proper cleavage. Charlotte still had a suntan from the summer holiday she had been on with her dad. They had been to Spain. She also had curves, proper curves. Helen found it impossible to look away. Charlotte looked feminine and grown-up and confident about her body in a way that Helen suspected she never would.

  Completely unaware of Helen’s scrutiny Charlotte pulled her costume on over her head and did a shimmy to get it down over her bust and hips. The dress was tight fitting and made of thin, slightly shiny, midnight blue fabric that clung to every last curve and, her dressmaker had assured them, would catch the light. There were sheer lace panels cut in round the waist and below that a full-flared mini skating skirt, cut to show off Charlotte’s long suntanned legs.

  ‘Is your dad coming tonight’ Charlotte asked, as she zipped herself up.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Helen, feeling horribly self-conscious. ‘He said he might come if he could get the time off. It depends on his shifts really.’

  Helen glanced around to see who might be looking. Her own underwear was tired and grey, certainly not something that she wanted to show off in front of a room full of strangers.

  ‘Did you get the mirror?’ asked Charlotte.

  Helen shook her head.

  ‘Is it all right if I get it?’ Charlotte asked, as she flicked her hair back over her shoulders.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Helen, glad of the diversion. ‘Help yourself. Oh and there are two new pairs of tights in there too.’

  While Charlotte rummaged through her bag, Helen stepped into her costume, fully clothed, and wriggled it up over her hips, slipping her arms out of her jumper, then, pulling the dress higher, left her jumper hanging around her neck to cover as much of her body as she could, before finally slipping the jumper off over her head when her arms were in the dress. Only once her dress was on, and zipped up, did she slip out of her jeans. Charlotte didn’t notice.

  ‘My dad said he’d be here,’ she was saying as she finally tracked down Helen’s mirror in the bottom of the bag. ‘He said he wouldn’t miss it for the world. His little baby.’ Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Helen didn’t like to ask if he would be bringing his new girlfriend along.

  ‘And now, ladies and gentleman, tonight, here at the Carlton Rooms’ all new talent extravaganza, we’d like you to put your hands together for our next act, two fantastic, fabulous local songbirds. Not only can they sing but it says here on my card that they’re wild too. Ladies and gentleman, let’s hear it for Billingsfield’s very own … Wild Birds!’ The compere’s voice rose in an exaggerated crescendo, as he tried to whip up the audience’s sense of anticipation and excitement.

  Helen, standing in the wings alongside Charlotte, took a deep breath to quieten the ripple of nervous excitement in the pit of her stomach. The moment had finally arrived; all those weeks of practising and rehearsing, all those nights of singing along to backing tracks on Charlotte’s tape deck, all for this. Helen felt slightly giddy as if her brain was full of bubbles and fluttering insects. She smiled at Charlotte. ‘Break a leg,’ she whispered.

  Charlotte glanced across at her. Her lips were set in a tight narrow line.

  ‘Isn’t that what they say?’ said Helen. ‘Break a leg?’

  Charlotte raised an eyebrow; if she was nervous she certainly didn’t show it. ‘I don’t care what they say, Helen. Whatever else you do, just don’t screw this up, all right?’ Charlotte muttered as the applause died away. ‘If you do I’ll never speak to you again, is that clear?’ And with that Charlotte stepped out in front of the curtains and waved to the waiting audience as if she had been doing it all her life, and made her way down to the front of the stage.

  Helen, just a step behind, felt as if she had been punched in the stomach.

  Charlotte, now smiling broadly, nodded an acknowledgement to the ripple of applause and did a lit
tle bow and giggle. The compere, a tall thin man in a tightly fitting silvery grey suit strode across the stage to meet them.

  ‘Well, good evening, ladies, and welcome to the Carlton Rooms. Don’t they look lovely, ladies and gentlemen? Is it the first time you’ve sung here, girls?’

  Helen nodded. The man laughed. ‘Saving your voice for your big number, are you, sweetheart?’ As he spoke he gave the audience a sly wink. ‘Good move, I’d say; we don’t want you to peak too early, do we, aye?’

  Helen blushed. The audience tittered.

  ‘Now don’t laugh,’ the man continued, teasing. ‘It’s a big night for you two tonight, isn’t it, girls? Lots of pressure on everyone.’ He tipped the microphone towards Charlotte. ‘And what about you, princess? Are you all ready for your big moment?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ purred Charlotte, with a big smile and an embarrassment of breathy enthusiasm.

  ‘I think we can all see that you’re ready,’ said the man. ‘Down, girl.’

  Charlotte batted her eyelashes, playing up to him. There was a ripple of good-humoured laughter in the auditorium. Helen wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

  ‘In which case, best we let you get on with it! So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you act number six, the Wild Birds.’ There was a little flurry of music as he made his way off the far side of the stage, leaving Charlotte and Helen alone in the spotlight. It was a strange unsettling feeling.

  Helen glanced down into the orchestra pit. To her relief Ed was there, sitting at the keyboard, and as their eyes met he smiled and gave her the thumbs up. She smiled back.

  ‘Ready?’ he mouthed, as the house lights began to fade and the spots seemed to brighten.

  Helen nodded and with that he lifted his hands and began to play the introduction to their number. Helen took a breath in anticipation of the first note and hit it, strong and true, so that it rolled out into the auditorium. This time it was Charlotte who was taken by surprise and for a split second Helen saw a look of total panic on her face, and in spite of herself Helen felt a little ripple of triumph. Recovering quickly, Charlotte picked up the words and they were away.