by Anne Douglas
And off went the rehearsal. Situation normal.
Later, over a cup of tea in their tiny office, Flo and Lorna relaxed, enjoying that time of day when they could just, as they described it, flop. The rehearsal over, the girls had departed – probably for belated sun bathing or tennis – and the time to play for dancing was a lovely long way off.
‘So, a cup of tea and a cigarette, what could be nicer?’ Flo asked, as though she were truly at ease. But it had come to Lorna, watching her, that she was not as relaxed as she was pretending to be.
‘Why the smoking, Flo?’ she asked at last. ‘It’s no’ like you to smoke so much. You got something on your mind?’
‘Och, nothing gets past you, does it?’ Flo shook her dark head and with a quick movement, stubbed out her cigarette. ‘Makes me sure I’m right in what I’m thinking.’
‘Why, what are you thinking, then?’
‘That you should take over this band completely.’
Lorna’s blue eyes widened, and she caught her breath. ‘Whatever are you talking about, Flo? You know we’re a team, we’re partners, we have been from the word go. What’s got into you, saying I should take over the band?’
‘I think it would be better with just you, Lorna. You’re a natural at the conducting, and you’ve got the personality as well.’ Flo smiled a little. ‘No’ to mention the hair.’
‘Oh, come on!’ Lorna’s cheeks were suddenly as bright as that auburn hair Flo seemed to think had something to do with the argument, which Lorna considered to be a piece of nonsense. ‘Look, you’re much more knowledgeable than me, much more experienced. If anyone should be leading the band all the time, it’s you. Folk look at me and they’re probably thinking, what does she know, then? Why, she’s no’ been around five minutes!’
‘That isn’t what they’re thinking at all.’ Flo was lighting another cigarette and shaking her head. ‘They’re admiring you, seeing somebody who’s absolutely right for what she’s doing. Now, for me, it’s a struggle. I hate having to stand up in front of everybody, always have, so when it’s my turn to lead the band, all I’m wanting is to play in the rhythm section the way I usually do.’
Lorna was silent for a moment, trying to take in this aspect of Flo she hadn’t known existed. ‘You’ve always seemed so positive to me,’ she murmured. ‘So good at getting what you want from the players. I never dreamed you weren’t happy.’
‘I wouldn’t say I wasn’t happy. I’m really glad we’ve got the band going and that we’ve done so well. It’s just that we learn by what we do and what I’ve learned is that the band would be better as just yours, and not shared with me.’
‘We have done well,’ Lorna said softly. ‘Think back to when we first started. At the Carillon that time – remember?’
‘Sure, I remember. George got us the chance and we took it. I’m proud of that.’
‘They thought we’d be a novelty, didn’t they? They thought we’d be a flash in the pan. But then we got the hotel bookings and the King’s Theatre that time, and the publicity was so good—’
‘“Flame-haired band leader sets feet tapping” was one headline I seem to recall,’ Flo said with a grin. ‘See what I mean, Lorna?’
‘“Flame-haired”,’ Lorna repeated with a grin. ‘When they probably meant ginger? But, look, tell me you aren’t serious about this. Why can’t we keep on the way we are?’
As Flo drew on her cigarette, hesitating, Lorna, with the quickness Flo had already observed, said, quietly, ‘There’s something else, isn’t there? Something you haven’t told me yet?’
‘OK, clever clogs.’ Flo shrugged. ‘The truth is, George has asked me to marry him.’
‘George?’ Lorna sat, stunned. ‘George has proposed? What – what did you say?’
‘I said yes. Well, I’m very fond of him, you know. In fact, we do love each other. He’s a bit older than me, but that doesn’t matter.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘And we think we can make a go of it, anyway.’
‘But, Flo, you’re no’ leaving me, are you?’ Lorna was winding her fingers together. ‘Has all this about me running the band been just a way of telling me you’re going?’
‘No!’ Flo ground out her cigarette, her gaze on Lorna very steady. ‘There’s no question of me leaving. What George wants to do is join us.’
‘Join us? As a sax player? Flo, we’re an all-girl band. And he’s never wanting to leave Luke, is he?’
‘He is, then. Luke’s even more difficult than he used to be and George has had enough. No’ the only one, either. Josh Nevin’s already left to join Jackie Craik’s band, here in Edinburgh.’
‘Josh has?’ Lorna was bewildered. ‘I can’t take all this in. I know Luke’s difficult – I mean, look at the way he treated us, and once he heard about our band, he never once came over to hear us play, or even wish us luck. But he runs a good band and George would surely be better off with him. I mean, he can’t play with us, anyway.’
‘He doesn’t want to play with us. He wants to be taken on as agent. You know how helpful he’s been so far, with his contacts and so on. And then he found us an accountant and he’s helped us with publicity. He’s just wondering if we could find enough money in the kitty to pay him to work full time.’
‘He’s certainly been helpful – I don’t know what we’d have done without him.’ Lorna’s face was thoughtful. ‘And we probably are making enough to pay him as agent, though I don’t know the going rate. The thing is, Flo, he’s a saxophone player. I can’t see him giving that up.’
‘He’s been a saxophone player for a long time, Lorna. Feels like a change.’
‘Especially if it means he can marry you?’ Lorna asked with a smile.
‘Well, there’s that.’ Flo smiled, too. ‘But the other thing he wants to do for us is more arranging. He’s first rate – much better than me.’
‘Flo, you’re very good!’
‘Not compared with George. But, listen, what do you say? Can we at least consider this? Discuss it with the accountant?’
‘Sure, we can!’ Lorna leaped up. ‘Just as long as you don’t depart to Glasgow, Flo!’
‘No need to worry about that. So, I can tell him you approve, then? He’s . . . well, he’s coming over this evening, told Luke he’d urgent business, would you believe? We’re going to have dinner before I’ve to be at the hotel.’
‘You devil, Flo! You were pretty sure what I’d say, eh? Oh, but I’m so happy for you, and for George. I’m planning what to wear for the wedding already!’
Thirty-Three
It soon became clear that taking on George as agent was one of the best things Lorna and Flo had done. He was so knowledgeable about every aspect of big band life; he had such a vast experience of other bandleaders and musicians, of where to get bookings, of wages and practical matters, Lorna felt she was learning more and more just by having him around.
‘To be honest, he’s as much manager as agent,’ she told Flo, as the summer progressed into autumn. ‘And I never wanted a manager, I wanted to do everything myself, but now I feel I’m learning so much from him, I couldn’t do without him.’
‘Don’t forget the arranging,’ Flo replied, her face showing her pride. ‘You must admit he’s creating a special character for our band, the way he blends the instruments in a particular way.’
‘I’m learning to do that, too, in case I ever lose George!’ Lorna said with a laugh. ‘Hope things don’t change when you two get married, eh?’
‘Och, that’s a long way off. Next spring, I should think.’
‘And then I’ll be losing my flatmate,’ Lorna sighed.
Some time before, she and Flo had finally been lucky enough to find a place they could afford in the New Town, which had given Lorna more flexibility than living at her mother’s could provide. Of course, it had been a wrench to leave Sam, but she visited whenever she could and shared her mother’s joy in watching him change from baby to toddler. He was, though
, still a secret from her girls in the band and her public, and she couldn’t see that changing any time in the near future.
One dark Sunday afternoon in early November, when she was visiting at Tilly’s, Ewen looked in, hoping for a walk, but the weather was too bad and he had to settle for tea instead. While Tilly bustled about in her little kitchen, preparing sandwiches, Lorna and Ewen sat playing with Sam, who was piling up bricks and enjoying knocking them down.
‘Oh, dear, hope he isn’t going to grow up into a vandal!’ Lorna said, laughing as she helped Sam pile up his bricks again. ‘Or, do you think he might become a demolition expert?’
‘I think he’s going to be something pretty good,’ Ewen said earnestly, touching Sam’s auburn head with a gentle hand. ‘He’s a grand little boy. Who does he look like, then?’
‘Nobody, really. He’s just himself.’
Not true, of course, for in looks Sam was undeniably Rod Warren’s son, but if she didn’t admit it, Lorna didn’t mind. As time had progressed and her heartache had eased, she sometimes liked to remember the good times with Rod. It was right, she thought, that her son should have been the result of love, even if the love had faded.
‘Still haven’t told folk about him?’ Ewen whispered. ‘I mean the lassies in the band and such?’
‘No, I don’t see the need.’
‘Yet the neighbours all know, eh?’
She shrugged. ‘They have to. But what’s your point, Ewen?’
‘I just feel a fine little laddie like Sam shouldn’t be kept under wraps. You’ve put him in one compartment and your work in another. It doesn’t seem right.’
‘I’ve told you, it’s the way it has to be. People aren’t ready to be understanding yet. They aren’t all like you, Ewen.’
He was opening his mouth to continue his argument, when Tilly came in with a loaded tray which she set on the table and called out cheerfully, ‘Tea’s ready! Ewen, you’re looking awful serious, come away and pull up a chair.’
‘Tea!’ Sam cried. ‘Tea for Sam!’
‘What would you like?’ Lorna asked fondly, taking him on her knee.
‘Cake,’ he answered promptly. ‘Bickie.’
‘Bread and butter first,’ Tilly ordered. ‘Then a sandwich. And then, if you’re a good boy, cake.’
‘Good boy,’ he repeated, contentedly eating the bread and butter he’d been given, but then his face changed, his eyes filled with tears, and he looked accusingly at Tilly. ‘Jam, Gramma, jam!’
‘But you’re going to have a nice sandwich, Sam – see, I’m cutting it up for you now.’
‘Jam,’ he continued to wail. ‘Jam, Gramma!’
‘Here,’ Ewen said, hastily spreading jam on Sam’s bread. ‘Here you are, Sam. Don’t cry any more.’
And as Sam’s tears amazingly dried and he smiled sunnily over his bread and jam, Lorna and Tilly shook their heads and told Ewen he would spoil him.
‘I would if he was mine,’ Ewen agreed.
‘I know the feeling,’ Lorna said. ‘And he is mine.’
‘You’re lucky, eh?’
‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘I am. Very lucky.’
Some days later at the studio, before the girls had arrived for rehearsal, George came in with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. He was grinning cheerfully and said they were to have a celebration.
‘Whatever for?’ Flo asked.
‘Why, the new prince, of course. Princess Elizabeth’s baby.’
‘Heavens, was that in the papers?’ Lorna asked. ‘I’ve been so busy, I missed it.’
‘On the wireless.’ George drew the cork and looked round. ‘What, no glasses?’
‘You know cups are all we’ve got,’ Flo said, passing them out. ‘The wine’ll taste the same, anyway.’
‘No, it won’t,’ George said seriously. ‘I can see I’m going to have to educate you, Flo, when we’re married.’
‘If you find the wine, I’ll take instruction!’
‘Well, there’s more of it around. Things are gradually coming back, eh? One day we’ll be rid of rationing.’ George poured the wine into the cups. ‘Here you are, anyway. To Prince . . . what’s his name again?’
‘Charles,’ said Flo.
‘To Prince Charles, then. Drink up, girls.’
‘Prince Charles,’ they echoed.
‘My, isn’t it nice, drinking wine when we should be working?’ Lorna put down her glass. ‘But now I’d better put out the sheets for “It’s Magic”. We haven’t played it before.’
‘Maybe we could have another celebration some time?’ Flo suggested. ‘I mean, before our wedding.’
‘Think we might,’ George said, pouring himself more wine. ‘I wanted to sound you out on dates for a tour. Then if you agree, I could book it and that’d call for another celebration, I reckon.’
‘A tour?’ Lorna asked. ‘I’ve been thinking for some time we should get something arranged. I’d prefer the spring, though.’
‘I don’t think we need wait for the spring for this one. It’s to entertain our troops in Germany – British Army of the Rhine.’ George grinned. ‘Fancy it? I think it’ll be interesting, anyway.’
‘BAOR?’ Lorna’s face lit up. ‘Why, George, that’d be wonderful. Flo, what do you think?’
‘Terrific. George top up my glass, eh? The only thing is, we might leave half the girls behind once the army gets to see them!’
‘Occupational hazard,’ George agreed. ‘Keep a close watch on ’em, eh? Or you’ll find yourself with no sax players, or a trombonist missing, or something.
‘Then you and I’ll have to play,’ Lorna told him, but his eyes were on the door.
‘Well, speaking of sax players, look who’s just walked in, then!’
And, turning her head, Lorna was astonished to see Jackie Craik at the door, with, behind him, Josh Nevin.
Thirty-Four
‘Nice,’ Jackie Craik commented, advancing into the studio and looking round. ‘Very nice, isn’t it, Josh?’
‘Very smart,’ the handsome Josh returned. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘So, to what do we owe this honour?’ George asked warily. ‘Haven’t seen you at any of the girls’ venues, Jackie.’
‘No, but I’ve been meaning to look in. We were passing the studio – thought we might catch the lassies at rehearsal.’
Jackie, in his fifties, a lean, almost scrawny figure yet with powerful arms and strong features, gave a polite nod towards Lorna and Flo. ‘You don’t mind us calling without notice, ladies?’
‘Not at all,’ Lorna answered coolly. ‘But the girls aren’t here yet and I’m sure you won’t have time to wait.’
‘Ah, come on, now, Lorna, don’t get on your high horse! I remember you when you were a wee girl, you know, when your dad used to bring you in sometimes to say hello.’
‘Yes, and I always loved seeing the band, but when I was grown up, you never wanted me in it, did you?’
‘And you’ve never forgiven me, have you? Still, you got into Luke’s band, eh? And so did Miss Drover here.’ Jackie nodded again to Flo. ‘And now you’ve both deserted him, like George and Josh. Only I poached Josh, of course.’ Jackie laughed heartily. ‘Didn’t take much poaching, did you, Josh?’
‘Couldn’t wait to get away,’ Josh agreed. ‘Hello, Lorna, hello, Flo. I must congratulate you on what you’ve achieved.’
‘Always so formal,’ George sighed. ‘Why don’t you both just say you’ve come to do a recce on the opposition?’
‘Thought never crossed my mind,’ Jackie said blandly. ‘But now we’re here, how about a drink, then? Or, is that bottle empty?’
‘It’s empty, we’ve been toasting the new prince.’
‘Oh, very loyal. Well, perhaps we’d better be on our way. Honestly, we just looked in on the off chance of seeing your band in action, Lorna. We’re probably playing ourselves at the same time as you – I mean if you’re playing a lot.’
‘We are. Sorry, not to offer you a cup of tea
, but we are pretty busy.’
‘Right, then we’ll leave you to it. Nice meeting up again, eh? George, Luke told me you’d flown. He’s pretty cut up, you know. Didn’t you two go back a long way?’
‘He’ll get over it,’ George said shortly, as Jackie and Josh moved slowly to the door. ‘Goodbye, Jackie, Josh.’
‘Perhaps we’ll meet again in the not too distant future?’ Josh asked, his dark gaze on Lorna.
‘Doubt it. We’re planning a tour of BAOR, Germany.’
‘Germany, eh?’ Jackie grinned, but his eyes flickered. ‘Guess not everybody would want to go there, eh?’
‘How do you mean?’ George asked.
‘Well, if you remember, it’s not so long ago we were fighting the Germans.’
‘So? We’ll be entertaining our soldiers, not the locals.’
‘They say the country’s in a mess, though. Rebuilding and such.’ Jackie shrugged. ‘Still, you’ll probably be OK where the troops are. I’ve heard they’re practically making new towns for ’em.’
‘As long as there’s somewhere for the girls to play, they’ll be fine. And what’s so unusual about people entertaining the troops? They even did that during the war. It’s called keeping up morale.’
‘Sure it was and the lassies will be doing a good job.’ Jackie, at the door, smiled briefly. ‘You’ve done very well, Lorna, you and Flo, and I’d be the first to say so. Josh, you ready?’
‘So, what was all that about?’ Flo asked, looking from Lorna to George when the visitors had departed. ‘Why the sudden interest in our band, do you think?’
‘Because you’re a success,’ George answered. ‘Jackie never cared a tinker’s cuss when you first started out, but now you’re getting the bookings, you’ve become a threat, so he’s interested.’
‘Flattering, I suppose. But next thing, he’ll be trying to spot our best players and start poaching. What’s the betting?’
‘That would mean having to have women in his band,’ Lorna said, turning away. She gave a little sniff. ‘He’d never agree to that.’