The Melody Girls

by Anne Douglas

Lorna lowered her eyes. ‘I never saw him drunk.’

  ‘Och, no, it was all just drinking and relaxing with the boys after they’d finished playing. But he got through quite a bit of cash, until he started thinking about us and took out some insurance. That’s all put away for the future – your wedding, maybe.’

  ‘My wedding? Oh, Ma, if there’s any money, it’s for you.’

  ‘Now, what would I do with it?’ Tilly rose, rubbing her back. ‘Still think that Luke Riddell could be paying you more. Ask around, see what the others are getting.’

  ‘The main thing is I’ve got the job I want, Ma. My foot’s in the door.’

  ‘Don’t I know it,’ Tilly sighed.

  Lorna, feeling guilty, said hastily, ‘I’ll be popping over from Glasgow all the time, Ma, you’ll see!’

  ‘Aye, if you can afford the train fare.’

  ‘There’s always the bus.’ Lorna took a deep breath, watching her mother carefully. ‘But, listen, Ma, could you do me a favour? I don’t like to ask, when I’m going away, but I’m pretty desperate.’

  Tilly gave her a long enquiring look. ‘Oh? Sounds bad. Better tell me what it is, then.’

  ‘Well, looks like I’m going to need a couple of new dresses. Seemingly, the men in the band all wear dark blue jackets, and Mr Riddell likes the girls to wear long dark blue dresses to match.’

  ‘Does he indeed?’ Tilly frowned. ‘Sounds particular. And why do the dresses have to be long? You’ve got the nice blue one you wore for the talent contest – surely that would do?’

  ‘It’s just that Mr Riddell likes something more formal.’

  ‘Well, the problem will be to find the material. I’ve some blue stuff left but I might need more. And how much is it all going to cost?’

  ‘It’s OK, Ma, I’ll pay out of my wages.’

  ‘Oh, what a piece o’ nonsense! Couldn’t Mr Riddell pay for what you have to wear in the band?’

  As Lorna said nothing, Tilly shook her head. ‘We’ll just have to hope that my material will be enough, then. So, when do you want these dresses? I’ve a lot on at the moment.’

  ‘Just for when I go away, Ma.’

  ‘For when you go away . . . All right, I’ll do what I can.’

  ‘Oh, Ma, you’re an angel!’ Lorna hugged her mother again. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you!’

  ‘You’ll soon find out,’ Tilly said dryly.

  Eleven

  When the time came for Lorna actually to leave instead of thinking about it and talking about it, the parting was just as bad as she’d guessed it would be.

  ‘The end of an era,’ Cissie said cheerfully. ‘Comes to us all, Tilly. Still, Lorna’s only going to Glasgow, eh?’

  But Tilly, carefully folding the new blue dresses for Lorna to add to her case, knew that Cissie had got it right. When a child grows up and departs, yes, it was the end of an era. And yes, it came to all parents sooner or later, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  ‘Won’t be easy for you, either,’ Cissie told Lorna the night before her departure. ‘You’ll be all excited inside, but sort of sad as well, eh? I mean, you’ve had to say goodbye to all your friends at the post office. They’ll be a big miss.’

  ‘I’ll still come back to see them,’ Lorna muttered, just wishing Auntie Cissie would go for her bus to Musselburgh. ‘As you say, I’m only going to Glasgow.’

  ‘And Ewen’s coming with us tomorrow,’ Tilly said firmly. ‘We’re going to see Lorna into her new bed sitter.’

  ‘Ah, the faithful Ewen!’ Cissie cried. ‘He’s no’ ready to forget you yet, Lorna.’

  ‘No one’s forgetting anybody, Auntie Cissie,’ said Lorna.

  Although Lorna considered herself lucky to have been able to rent a room at Flo’s place, an old tenement house off Buchanan Street, Tilly, naturally, didn’t think much of it. True, it was very small, with only the basics of furniture, a washbasin and a miniature cooker, but what could you expect for fifteen bob a week? Lorna said it would suit her fine.

  ‘And you think you’re going to be able to cook on this?’ Tilly asked, running her finger round the hotplate. ‘First, it’ll need a good clean. Have you got some scouring powder? I’m sure I canna think how you’re going to manage.’

  ‘Don’t worry about Lorna, Mrs Fernie,’ Flo told her earnestly. ‘I know that’s easy to say – my folks are dead now, but my mum used to worry about me, too. I’ll see Lorna’s all right.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Miss Drover,’ Tilly said, studying Flo’s thin, intelligent face, and seeming reassured by what she saw. ‘I must admit, I feel better, now I see she’s got a friend. I know the band scene, you see, I know what she’s up against.’

  ‘Oh, Ma,’ Lorna sighed, glancing at Ewen, who was too despondent to join in the conversation.

  After they’d had something to eat at a small cafe with Flo, there was the melancholy walk to the station where Lorna, having embraced her mother, even kissed Ewen, which would once have cheered him up, but now had no effect. He did manage a wave with Tilly however, as they were carried away on the train to Edinburgh, while Lorna waited until it was out of sight,

  ‘Sad for your mother,’ Flo commented. ‘Even though you’re no’ far away. And your young man looked pretty glum.’

  ‘Oh, Ewen’s isn’t my young man, Flo!’

  ‘He’d like to be, then. My guess is there’ll be a few feeling like that in the band, too. Once they’ve got over the shock of having a girl sax player. I mean, you’ll be sitting on the front line, eh? We other lassies are at the back, out of the way – they hope.’

  ‘You talk about young men for me – how about you?’ Lorna asked with some hesitation. ‘I bet there’s someone.’

  ‘Wrong.’ Flo studied her nails. ‘I’ve had my fill of affairs that have gone wrong. At the moment, I’m no’ interested.’

  ‘That makes two of us. All I want at the minute is to be a success in the band. Mr Riddell says I’ve a lot to learn. That’s why he’s no’ paying me much.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking, how much is he paying?’

  ‘Three pounds, ten.’ Lorna hesitated. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I’m on six.’

  ‘Six!’

  ‘You think it’s good? Know how much Dickie Tarrant gets, who stands right next to me playing bass? Twelve.’

  ‘Dickie gets twelve pounds a week?’

  ‘Aye, and he’s no’ been with the band five minutes and I’ve been with it two years. All the guys get twelve, and think they should get more – that’s why Luke’s always losing fellas. He’ll no’ pay the right money, so some just move on, if they can find another band. Some stay because they think he’s good, or they don’t want to go to England where there’s more work. Of course, he banks on that.’

  ‘But girls accept less, anyway?’

  Flo shrugged. ‘And play as well as the men. To be fair, Luke wouldn’t take them on if they couldn’t, he thinks the world of his band. But he’s certainly thinking about taking on more women, so’s he doesn’t have to pay too much.’

  ‘And yet he can seem so nice.’

  ‘Oh, a charmer. But there’s a dark side to him. Sometimes have to watch your step.’

  Yes, perhaps she’d already seen that dark side, thought Lorna, but said nothing, as Flo, looking at her watch, told her they’d better be going. Lorna wouldn’t want to be late for her first rehearsal with the band.

  ‘Oh, Lord, no!’ Lorna had cried, as she was seized with an attack of nerves that set her wondering how she would ever find the courage to play again to Luke’s satisfaction, or under the sombre gaze of Josh Nevin, whose chair would be next to hers.

  But it was all right. It was fine. That first time with the band, she played as though born to it, which was what she’d always dreamed of doing, and when it was over, though not a great deal was said by the men around her, she felt she’d proved herself. It might be, that however well she played, some men would never accept her, but she kne
w and they knew that she was worthy of acceptance and that was what mattered.

  Certainly, Luke himself was pleased with her, and when he came up and praised her performance, she found herself again forgetting about her wages and remembering only that he’d given her the chance to do what she wanted. Her smile was radiant.

  ‘Did well, didn’t she?’ Luke asked Josh, who gave a quick nod.

  ‘Sure she did. But, Luke, I take it I’m still on for my solo tonight? You didn’t ask me to rehearse it.’

  ‘I’m not sure, Josh. Suzie wants to put in an extra number tonight.’

  ‘Suzie does?’ Josh’s brow was like a thundercloud. ‘She doesn’t need an extra number, does she?’

  ‘You’re telling me what my wife needs?’ Luke asked icily. ‘Who’s leading this band, Josh, you or me?’

  ‘OK, forget my solo tonight. Sorry I spoke.’

  ‘I’m sorry you did, too. You’re not the only tenor sax around, Josh.’

  ‘And you’re not the only bandleader!’

  A frozen silence descended on the band, as Josh and Luke seemed to be attempting to outstare each other, and then, as quickly as the row had blown up, it died down, and Luke clapped Josh on the back.

  ‘What the hell are we arguing about?’ he asked. ‘You know your solos are a star turn, Josh. Would I want to lose them?’

  ‘So, I play one tonight?’ Josh asked quickly.

  ‘Make it next week,’ Luke told him easily. ‘I sort of promised Suzie her extra spot tonight. You understand?’

  ‘As long as I do get to play it next week.’

  ‘No question.’

  A long whistling sigh ran round the band as the tension faded, and as Luke and Josh walked away together, Rod appeared at Lorna’s side, brows raised, eyes dancing.

  ‘Oh, oh,’ he whispered. ‘Now you’ve soon seen us kids at play, eh? But don’t worry about it. You did well just now – that’s what matters.’

  Lorna, still looking apprehensive, managed a smile. ‘Nice of you to say so. I feel it’s good I’ve broken the ice.’

  ‘And there’s always plenty of that,’ said Flo, joining them. ‘Come on, Lorna. We’ve just got time to get home, get changed and grab a bite to eat before we head out. No rest for the wicked they say.’

  ‘I don’t need any rest,’ Lorna said at once, though it suddenly came to her that her real test with the band still lay ahead, playing that evening at the Atholl Rooms. Not so much a grand ballroom, but a lovely, friendly venue, Ina told her. And peaceful, too.

  ‘What she means is, nobody fights,’ Flo remarked, smiling wryly. ‘Unlike some dance halls. Where we don’t play, let me add.’

  ‘No, really, you’ll be all right there, Lorna,’ Ina said encouragingly. ‘Just the place to start.’

  With real dancers, Lorna thought. Would they notice if she made any mistakes? Maybe not, but Luke would. And so would Josh. If he’d got over his little spat with the bandleader.

  ‘Come on, don’t look so worried,’ Rod whispered. ‘No need to be nervous at the Atholl.’

  ‘I’m no’ nervous!’ Lorna cried. ‘Well, just a bit.’

  Twelve

  The Atholl Rooms were in a part of Glasgow unknown to Lorna, and not one that seemed the likely home of a dance hall. On a wet night in December, in a street of converted office blocks and dark tenements, the tall building that was the band’s destination seemed quite uninviting.

  Yet when the doors folded back and Lorna, clutching her raincoat around her shoulders, followed Flo inside, she was surprised to see a fine, spacious dance floor, well lit and warm, with chairs and a stand, known as a platform by the band, and Luke’s name in large letters on a banner twisted high.

  ‘Luke Riddell and His Orchestra’ it read, and below it, arms outstretched amongst the players arriving, stood Luke himself and Suzie, his wife, the vocalist.

  ‘Come in, come in,’ Luke cried, in his most cheerful tones. ‘Nasty night, eh? But won’t put anybody off, I can guarantee it. Lorna, meet my wife, Suzie. Suzie, meet our new tenor sax.’

  ‘Delighted!’ cried Suzie, moving forward to take Lorna’s hand. ‘Oh, what a pleasure to have another girl around! I keep telling Luke, that’s what folk want, to look at pretty girls, not guys in jackets!’

  ‘As though anybody looks at the band anyway,’ someone said, but though Luke turned his head sharply, he couldn’t see who it was, and Suzie only laughed her singer’s melodious laugh. Because, thought Lorna, she would know very well that if people didn’t look at the band, they would certainly look at her.

  Blonde, with scarlet lips and round brown eyes, she was just the sort of woman who would always be looked at, especially when poured into a slinky black dress, with chunky beads at her throat, bangles glittering on her narrow wrists, and dark red polish on her fingernails. She was everyone’s image of a vocalist, and whether she could sing or not, wouldn’t really matter. Except that Luke would probably want a vocalist who could sing, as well as look like Suzie, he being a perfectionist.

  And at that thought, Lorna began to feel worried again and instinctively looked round for Rod, who obligingly came up to her.

  ‘Why, Lorna!’ he cried, taking in her mother’s carefully stitched dark blue dress that showed off her delicate colouring and the flame of her auburn hair, ‘you look terrific!’

  ‘Do I?’ She looked towards the clock that showed only a few minutes to the opening of the hall. ‘I’m beginning to feel a bit wobbly.’

  ‘Wobbly? In that dress and with your gorgeous hair, you’re going to knock ’em dead!’

  ‘Gorgeous hair?’ Her smile vanished. ‘I’m hoping folk will like my playing, rather than my hair.’

  ‘Ah, come on, it’s just a compliment. Don’t take it the wrong way.’

  ‘Why do men always concentrate on what women look like?’

  ‘You mean you mind?’

  ‘When I play the same as they do, I mind.’

  ‘Well, here’s something else to think about. If Josh doesn’t turn up, you might end up lead tenor on your first outing playing for a dance.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Her eyes widening, she looked at once for any sign of Josh, half hoping he would come, half hoping he wouldn’t. Lead tenor sax! Why not? Then she laughed inwardly at herself, as Josh came sauntering up to take his seat next to her. As though she could be lead tenor sax!

  ‘All right, Josh?’ George, the lead alto, called, at which Josh looked down his fine nose and shrugged.

  ‘Sure, why shouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Just wondered,’ George said with a grin.

  ‘See you at the intermission,’ Rod whispered to Lorna. ‘We’ll have a drink, eh?’

  She nodded, keeping her eyes on the hall doors which were now opening to admit the evening’s dancers, young men in suits, with slicked back hair, and girls in short skirts and high-heeled shoes, noting that immediately the atmosphere was changing. They might be here to dance, but these young people were an audience, and playing with an audience was always different to playing without. As excitement began to exert its grip again and the band members took their seats, Josh bent his head towards Lorna.

  ‘All set? You remember we’re starting with “I’ll Get By”?

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ she murmured, thinking that his words were the first sign of his being helpful. Never mind, she was grateful, anyway. ‘I remember.’

  ‘Luke’s going to beat us in. Ready?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’

  And there was Luke, elegant in his formal evening clothes, standing up in front of his band, the only one that Lorna could now see, or needed to see, as the dancers took their partners, the lights went low, and the music began.

  Her first true test of playing with the band was upon her, and though her concentration had to be focused on her own part, suddenly into her mind came the face of her father. He’d always said she’d never play in a band, yet somehow he must always have known that she could, and perhaps in the future, would, or why would he have taken
so much trouble training her?

  Oh, Dad, she murmured silently, be pleased for me, be proud.

  But as the first number ended, with clapping from the dancers and Josh actually smiling, there was, of course, no way of knowing how her dad would have felt. If only he hadn’t had that heart attack. If only she could have asked him to come and hear her play. He would have been proud, she told herself, and believed it.

  Thirteen

  Foxtrots, quicksteps, modern waltzes, old time waltzes, tangos, even a rumba for the brave-hearted; the music rolled on effortlessly until Suzie came on to sing ‘All of Me’ and, as usual, according to an aside from Josh, stopped the show. The combination of her looks and her voice, which was in fact, very attractive, was too much for the young folk, who kept calling her back until she’d agreed to sing more numbers, and only let her go when she waved her arms, smiling widely, and said she’d be along later. Which was the signal for Luke to produce his own smile and announce the intermission.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ the band muttered, claiming they were dying of thirst, but when Rod came up to Lorna, she said she’d like a coffee, if there was any to be had.

  ‘Sure there is. You can get coffee or tea at the bar.’ Rod laughed. ‘Must admit, this’ll be the first time I’ve had coffee here.’

  ‘You’d rather have alcohol, I suppose?’

  ‘In moderation. I’m not a great drinker. See too much of it.’

  ‘Occupational hazard, my dad used to call it.’

  ‘He was right about that.’

  After they’d found somewhere to sit with their coffee in the bar, they exchanged glances, each taking pleasure in the little interlude.

  ‘Mind if I speak of it, but are you really partly American?’ Lorna asked, stirring her coffee which was so weak, it looked as if it needed help. ‘Sometimes, I think I can hear the accent in your voice – other times, you sound quite Scottish.’

  ‘Border Scots,’ he answered readily. ‘But yes, I’m half and half. My dad’s American.’

  ‘Exciting.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. My mother was a Scottish nurse working in the south of England when my father came over in the First World War. They married and after the war, he took her back to Los Angeles, where my brother and I were born. But things didn’t work out.’