by Sue Welfare
Once Helen was singing any last remnants of nervousness evaporated and her voice soared above Charlotte’s, her tone rich, deep, and strong, as she confidently hit every note, breathing life and emotion into the lyrics. Alongside her, by contrast, Charlotte sounded reedy and thinner, but Charlotte knew how to move and how to deliver a song, and as the tempo quickened and the spotlight followed their every move the audience began to clap and whoop and cheer as Charlotte began to dance to the rhythm, hands above her head, while Helen carried the tune.
A posse of young men sitting right in the front row wolf-whistled and stamped out their approval. Helen felt a great rush of pleasure; it felt wonderful to be the centre of attention.
It suddenly struck Helen that Ed was right; she was the one with the talent, though even she knew that it still might not be enough. As they headed towards their big finish the whole crowd began to clap and sing along with them.
Charlotte grinned at Helen; her dancing was more flamboyant, more provocative now, and the crowd loved it. Even the men in the box from the television were whooping and cheering. Whatever it was they had, it was working. The Wild Birds had the whole audience eating out of the palm of their hand. Charlotte glanced across at Helen; her face was alight with a mix of pure joy and excitement.
Barely had the final note finished before the crowds began baying for more. The young men at the front were on their feet stamping and clapping and calling, ‘Encore, Encore!’ The sound of the applause echoing around the theatre was breathtaking, and so loud that Helen could feel it pressing against her chest almost as much as she could hear it.
From the other side of the stage the compere hurried on, microphone in hand, grinning like a madman. ‘Well, what about that then, aye? Wasn’t that something, ladies and gentlemen? Looks to me like you ladies better do an encore before we have ourselves a riot – what do you say, everyone? Do we want more?’
The crowd roared its approval; the boys in the front row stomped and whooped and cheered some more.
Charlotte, eyes glittering, glanced across at Helen and grinned. ‘See, I told you,’ she murmured. ‘This is where we are meant to be.’
They hadn’t expected this kind of response and hadn’t prepared anything, so it was Helen who turned to Ed and said, ‘Can you take it from the last verse and chorus?’ And somehow, above the noise he could make out what she said and played their introduction again.
When their encore ended the crowd continued to clap and stamp, the sound ringing around the vaulted ceiling until Helen’s ears hurt. The compere strode back on stage as they took yet another bow and held his hands aloft clapping Charlotte and Helen all the way. ‘Thank you, Wild Birds.’ And then turning to them off-mike, he said, ‘Okay, off you pop, sweeties, you’ve had your moment in the sun.’ And then back into the microphone continued. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, ‘wasn’t that something, eh? What a great act. The Wild Birds.’ He raised his arms towards them, rekindling the applause. ‘It looks to me like those two young ladies are going to give the rest of tonight’s acts a real run for their money. So let’s get right on and see what else we’ve got in tonight’s show. Next up we’ve got a great act for you. Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to put your hands together and give a big Carlton Rooms welcome to master illusionist and king of comedy magic, the Great Charlissimo.’
The crowd began to clap all over again.
Meanwhile Helen and Charlotte were so excited that they practically flew off the stage, giggling madly to each other with a heady mixture of excitement and disbelief.
‘Oh my God, did you see them? Did you see them?’ gasped Charlotte. ‘Wasn’t that the most amazing feeling? They loved us. Did you see those boys in the front row? They were on their feet and dancing and waving. God, that felt good. If Leon Downey doesn’t sign us up after seeing that then he must be mad. Come on –’ she said, catching hold of Helen’s hand, ‘let’s go and get a drink –’
‘That’s a good idea; I think I saw a machine on the landing.’
Charlotte looked at her and laughed. ‘Not that sort of drink, dummy. I meant a real drink.’
Helen stared at her. ‘You mean like alcohol?’
‘Yeah, like alcohol,’ Charlotte said mockingly. ‘You know, to celebrate the fact that we drove them wild out there.’
‘But I thought we were going to go out for a drink later with Leon.’
‘We are, but he’s going to pick us up after the show. This is now. Let’s go to the Crown on the corner. We can be back before the interval.’
Helen stared at her. ‘Shouldn’t we stay here?’
‘What on earth for?’
‘Well,’ Helen hesitated; she couldn’t think of a reason but it seemed odd to be leaving when all the other acts still had to do their turn. ‘Shouldn’t we stay and watch everyone else? The people from the theatre might want us, and what about your dad?’
‘What about my dad?’ Charlotte looked heavenwards. ‘Oh for God’s sake, Helen, stop being such an old woman. Come on! If my dad were backstage now he’d take us out himself and probably buy us champagne. We’ll only be gone for half an hour, nothing’s going to spoil in that time, come on.’
‘Shouldn’t we get changed first?’ said Helen, conscious of how very short her skirt was.
Charlotte glanced down at her own matching mini dress and giggled. ‘Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right about that, but then again if they want us back on at the end we’ll need to be in costume. Let’s just go upstairs and grab our coats. It won’t take a minute.’ And with that she was gone and running upstairs to the dressing room.
The Crown was almost empty when they got there. The jukebox was playing in one corner, in another a couple of men were drinking beer and feeding coins into a row of slot machines.
Charlotte marched straight up to the bar and ordered for them. She was still flushed with excitement and brimming with confidence. ‘God, that was amazing, wasn’t it?’ she said, talking over her shoulder to Helen. ‘And it convinced me, if we needed any convincing, that we are doing exactly the right thing. I keep thinking about those boys in the front row. I mean they really loved us. And they were so cute.’ Her grin widened as she paid and took the drinks from the barman. ‘We need to think about what we’re going to say to Leon Downey tonight.’
‘Shouldn’t we wait to see what he has to say first?’ asked Helen. ‘You know, like what he has to offer?’
Charlotte sighed. ‘You are such a wet blanket, Helen. Okay, so how about if he says he wants to take us on straight away and that he can find us work? What are we going to say then?’
Helen hesitated. ‘We’ll have to tell him we need a bit of time to talk it over between us, and then we’ll let him know what we decide. There’s your dad and my dad and school and the toy shop to consider. It’s not just an ordinary job, is it? It’s digs and travel as well as wages and the usual stuff. And won’t he want a percentage? Surely he’s not going to expect us to make a decision like that there and then.’
As they spoke Helen followed Charlotte towards an empty table, tucked away in an alcove close to the bar.
‘Yes, but he might. What would you say then? What would you say if he said we could start next week? This is the chance of a lifetime, Helen. And I’m telling you now, I’m game. What if he said he could get us into a show, or on TV? I’d be there like a shot. Anything but anything has got to be better than life at home and school,’ said Charlotte excitedly. ‘It would be so good.’
‘We need to think this through, Charlie. We haven’t even spoken to him yet.’
Charlotte glared at her. ‘Why are you always so negative?’
‘I’m not being negative, I’m being realistic.’
‘Oh, really,’ said Charlotte. ‘Well, that isn’t how it sounds from where I’m sitting.’
Helen felt as if she was talking to a brick wall. As far as Charlotte was concerned they’d already made it and had their name up in lights; she was talking as if being signed by Leon
Downey was a foregone conclusion. Looking away Helen took a long pull on the drink Charlotte had bought and as the taste filled her mouth, spluttered furiously, almost choking. ‘What on earth is that?’ she snorted, wiping her mouth and staring at the contents of the glass.
‘Vodka and Coke. Why? Don’t you like it?’ asked Charlotte, taking a swig. ‘My dad lets me drink it at home and I reckon we ought to make a night of it; we deserve it, and it doesn’t look like the sort of place that does champagne, does it?’ She paused as if waiting for a laugh and when it didn’t come, snapped, ‘Oh, come on, Helen, just lighten up, will you? We wowed them. They loved us, you know they did. And don’t dawdle, drink up, we’ve got time for another before we go back.’ She took another long pull on her own glass and then waved to the barman. ‘Can we have a couple more, please?’ she said, indicating her glass.
The man grinned. ‘Certainly can. You two look like ladies on a mission. Girls’ night out, it is?’
Charlotte opened her handbag and pulled out her purse. ‘Something like that. You don’t know who we are, do you?’
The man pulled a face, ‘No, I’m sorry, love, I don’t. Should I? Are you famous or something?’
Charlotte struck a pose. ‘Oh yes, or at least we soon will be. We’re the Wild Birds,’ she said, taking out a five-pound note.
‘And who are the Wild Birds when they’re at home?’ he asked, good-humouredly.
‘We’re pop stars,’ said Charlotte, getting up to take her glass – still almost half full – back to the bar. ‘You heard it here first,’ she added with a sly wink. ‘We’re the next big thing. Everyone says so.’
‘Well, there’s a thing,’ the man said. ‘Famous, eh? And there’s you slumming it down here with us lesser mortals tonight. I’m flattered. So, will you be wanting a double in there, then?’
Charlotte considered for a moment and then said, ‘Why not?’ Sliding the glass across the bar, she turned back towards the table. ‘Do you want another one, Helen?’
Helen felt herself reddening and shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine, thank you.’
‘I’m fine thank you, Kate,’ purred Charlotte.
‘That your name, is it?’ asked the man, pressing the glass up under the optic.
Charlotte nodded. ‘That’s right. Kate Monroe,’ she said, offering him her hand. ‘The Kate Monroe.’
Laughing he set the glass down on the counter and lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed it. ‘Enchanté, mademoiselle,’ he purred. ‘Delighted to meet you. Tell you what, how about you have this one on the house? It’s not often we get famous pop stars dropping in here for a bevvie.’
Charlotte giggled, while Helen looked down into her glass, cringing with embarrassment.
‘Did you have to say that?’ hissed Helen as Charlotte sat back down alongside her at the table.
‘Say what?’
‘That stuff about us being famous.’
‘Well we are going to be famous. Don’t hide your light under a bushel, that’s what I say. I can feel it in my bones. Here, let’s have a toast. To being famous.’ She raised her glass. ‘And let’s not forget rich.’
Helen clinked glasses with her and sipped her drink while Charlotte babbled on and on about what she would like to do after Leon had signed them and how she saw their career panning out. Charlotte had just got to the bit where they were breaking into the American charts and had got the lead in a Hollywood film when other people began to drift into the pub. Within a few minutes a steady stream of customers was trailing up to the bar.
It took Helen a few minutes to work out that they had to be the audience from the Carlton Rooms, who were coming in to have a drink in the interval.
Charlotte had already drained her glass down to the dregs; her eyes were bright. ‘Your shout,’ she said, sliding the glass across the table.
Helen had barely touched her drink.
‘I’m off to the loo,’ said Charlotte. ‘I’ll have the same again. Best you get up there and get us a refill before the rush starts.’
Helen nodded. Although there was no way she was going to admit it, she had never bought a drink in a pub before, not a proper drink. There was a little crush of people in front of her, and despite the barman catching her eye and smiling there was no chance she was going to get served straight away.
‘It’s been really good tonight, hasn’t it?’ said a plump woman in front of her. She was talking to a small man who had a raincoat folded over his arm. ‘I’m right glad we came.’
He nodded. ‘Not bad, not bad at all. You want a Cherry B?’
The woman nodded.
‘That magician were cracking,’ said the man. ‘Act like that, he should be on the telly.’
‘Probably will be after this. We can say we saw him here first. And he was funny too, wasn’t he? I wouldn’t have wanted to go up there to help him. That lad was brave –’
‘He loved it. And them acrobats were good –’
The woman nodded. ‘And those two girls, the singers. Wild something –’ She laughed as she said it. ‘Wild all right. What on earth was that all about? I don’t know how they got away with it to be honest. I mean it says on the posters good old-fashioned family entertainment. Talk about putting on a show, eh? You wouldn’t have thought they’d have let them get away with it.’
Helen edged closer, hanging on the woman’s every word.
‘And them lads in front of us shouting and whooping; bit much though for that time of night. Do you think they knew?’ asked the woman.
The man snorted. ‘Of course they did. How could they not? Let’s face it, they hadn’t got much else going for them.’
‘Oh, dunno, they got an encore, and that little dark-haired one was all right,’ said the woman as they eased their way closer to the front of the queue. ‘At least she could sing. Got a nice voice on her.’
The man snorted. ‘Not just a voice, eh? She was all right in more ways than one, although I quite liked the blonde m’self.’
The woman playfully slapped his arm. ‘Stop it. Trust you to say something like that. I can’t take you anywhere,’ she said.
Helen hoped that the couple would carry on talking but as they got to the bar their conversation died. She was struggling to piece together what their conversation meant when the barman smiled at her. ‘Same again?’ he asked, nodding towards the empty glass.
‘Just a Coke for me, please, and a vodka and Coke for –’
‘Kate,’ said the barman with a grin. ‘Are you famous too?’
Helen was conscious of the couple being served alongside them. ‘No, not really,’ she stammered. ‘Not at all actually.’
He grinned. ‘That’s not what your mate said. Singers, she said, on the way up apparently – you and her, the next big thing.’
Helen pulled out a handful of coins from her purse and slid them across the counter, willing him to shut up.
‘You singing round the corner tonight, are you?’ said the woman who Helen had been eavesdropping on.
‘No,’ Helen said quickly, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible as she took the drinks from the counter. ‘We just popped in for a drink.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said the woman. ‘They’ve got a really good crowd in there tonight. Full house near as damn it. It’s a talent show. And they’ve had some really good acts on there, haven’t they, George?’
The man who was sipping the froth off his pint nodded. ‘And some bloody dire ones, and these girls – these singers – well, you should have been there,’ said the man, directing his remarks towards the barman. ‘They had these skimpy little costumes on.’ He began to mime the outline.
‘Yeah,’ said his female companion. ‘We were sitting halfway back but you couldn’t miss it. You could see right through them. Clear as day.’
‘Not that you could hear anyone complaining,’ said the man with a loud guffaw. ‘Well, at least not any of the blokes.’ The woman slapped him again, and he laughed.
Helen star
ed at the two of them, feeling the colour rush to her face, and then quickly she looked away and scuttled back to the alcove, glasses in hand.
‘You took your time,’ said Charlotte, taking her drink. ‘I thought you’d gone home with the barman. He’s a bit of all right, isn’t he? I was just sitting here planning what we’re going to do with the prize money.’
‘The prize money?’
‘Come on, keep up. From tonight, stupid,’ said Charlotte, sipping on her drink. ‘It’s five hundred pounds if we win. How much do you reckon it would cost us to fly to America? Maybe we should go and have a look in the travel agents on Monday.’
Helen stared at her. She was sure she could still hear the little man with the raincoat discussing their costumes at the bar. She looked at Charlotte, who was grinning from ear to ear and still talking about flights to Hollywood.
TEN
In the storeroom at the back of the toy shop Helen stared at Harry. ‘Harry, will you please tell me what on earth you’re talking about?’ Helen whispered, as if somehow Felix, Natalia and the rest of the TV crew might suddenly be hard of hearing.
He swallowed hard, his face reddening. ‘I’m so sorry, Helen. I suppose I’d assumed that you were okay about this. I didn’t mean to drop you in it. I didn’t realise it was still supposed to be a secret. I just thought – well, you know, as you’re here, as you’d come back –’ He looked around at the crew, a study in discomfort.
‘Harry, this isn’t helping,’ said Helen.
‘I’d assumed that’s why you’d come back to Billingsfield after all these years. I thought that you finally wanted to talk about it, and to see Adam again. Get it all out in the open. Get to know him. I mean we’ve all seen Roots, isn’t that how it works?’ He looked from face to face, looking for all the world as if he hoped someone was going to spring to his defence.