The Melody Girls

by Anne Douglas

  ‘And you never said a word,’ she heard herself saying aloud. ‘Why, Ewen? Why never speak of Pattie? Why never tell me you were seeing her?’

  ‘I don’t know. Suppose I was afraid it might no’ work out. It’s a pretty recent thing, anyway.’

  His look now on Lorna had changed from one of appeal to apology, as though he’d recognized the shock he’d given her and wanted to make amends. Which, of course, was not possible.

  ‘Pattie was telling me one day she was fed up with working at the post office – I’d got the promotion, but she hadn’t – and that her job seemed to be going nowhere. And then there was you, you know.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Well, you’ve been doing so well. Making records, being on the wireless, becoming famous, all that sort of thing. Pattie couldn’t help comparing herself.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a piece of nonsense, Ewen!’

  ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve felt a bit the same.’

  ‘You haven’t! Why, you’ve done well yourself, Ewen. You’ve just got promoted!’

  ‘Aye, I feel better now.’ He smiled wearily. ‘Couldn’t call myself a star, though. And people who can, they always think others don’t mind, eh?’

  ‘Look, I don’t know what to say . . .’

  ‘It’s OK, Lorna, I don’t want to make you feel bad. Anyway, the upshot of it was, Pattie and me, we went to the pictures and it sort of snowballed from there. She’s a lovely girl, you know. Nice to talk to. Very sympathetic.’

  Not always thinking of herself, like me, Lorna thought. And as she remembered the way she’d always considered Ewen, more light appeared to be shining down over him and her. How had she seen him? Only as a loyal friend, who’d always be there for her. Who’d never expect anything, but just come up with advice when required. Go for walks, act as a sounding board for ideas and solutions, be prepared to admire and carry a torch without ever expecting anything back.

  ‘I’m the one who’s no’ special,’ he had said of himself, and she had let him think it. No, he’d never been special in the way he meant. Even now, reeling from his news, she couldn’t think of him as a lover, but he had been special as a person. Pure gold, you might say, while those he’d seen as special, and so had she, were oh so flawed. The worst of it was, it was too late to make amends. Ewen had found his own salvation, and her name was Pattie MacDowell.

  ‘Ewen, let’s go,’ Lorna stammered, rising from her seat, tears she couldn’t show only waiting to fall. And Ewen, regaining his composure, as hers melted away, called for the bill.

  Walking home was an ordeal, for neither could think of what to say. Step by step, they covered the ground to Lorna’s flat, where at one time – yesterday, no longer ago than that – she might have invited him in for a goodnight cup of something. Tonight, of course, was different. Tonight, she couldn’t invite him in, engaged man that he was, but she did manage to hide her tears and kiss his cheek.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ewen, I never wished you happiness. But I do, of course. And I’ll see Pattie and wish her all the best, too.’

  ‘She’d like that.’

  ‘When will the wedding be?’

  ‘No’ sure yet, but fairly soon. Pattie says she wants to enjoy being engaged first, but I reckon that’ll mean planning the wedding.’

  Ewen was hesitating as Lorna stood on her step, swinging her keys.

  ‘This needn’t make any difference to us, Lorna, eh? I mean, if you ever want any help – you know, advice and all that – you’ll still have me.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I won’t forget.’

  ‘I mean it, Lorna. Can’t just suddenly change from being as close as we were, can we?’

  ‘No, no, we won’t change. Goodnight, Ewen. And thanks for a lovely evening.’

  ‘It was lovely for me too, Lorna. Really was.’

  After she’d opened her door and given him a last smile, she saw him walking slowly and steadily out of her life. And then she closed the door and did shed tears, of regret for what she might have done, and the loss of a friend who didn’t want to change, but had already changed the minute he put a ring on Pattie MacDowell’s finger.

  Ah, well Lorna had her own life to live, even if she did feel she was swimming alone in an endless sea where the only rocks there were no longer offered safety. Thank God, she still had what counted. Her family – her mother and Sam – her music and, oh, yes, her new house. Strange how that had for the minute faded from her mind.

  Fifty-Three

  Tilly, of course, when told of Ewen’s engagement, lost no time in declaring that she’d told Lorna so.

  ‘Now, did I no’ say, Lorna, that Ewen was ready to be married, but no’ to you? And you see, I was right, because he’s fixed up with little Pattie MacDowell, and her ma says she’s so happy.’ Tilly sighed deeply. ‘She’s got some sense, eh? Good men don’t grow on trees, you ken.’

  ‘Ma, Ewen and I could never have been more than friends. We both knew that.’

  ‘You mean, you did. If you ask me, Ewen would have married you any time you said. But he’s got sense as well. When he saw he was never going to get anywhere, he found somebody else and good luck to him, eh?’

  ‘Yes, good luck,’ Lorna echoed seriously. ‘I’ll admit, I know I’m going to miss what Ewen and I shared, but he’s doing the right thing and I do wish him and Pattie all the luck in the world. OK?’

  ‘Aye, of course.’

  Tilly suddenly put aside the blouse she had been stitching and rose to put her arm round Lorna’s shoulders.

  ‘I’m sorry, pet, for going on at you. Maybe you’re right, it’d never have worked out between you and Ewen. He couldn’t have been a part of your world and you’ve grown away from his. So, maybe he’s better off with someone like Pattie.’

  ‘I know he is,’ Lorna said softly. Her eyes went to her mother’s sideboard clock. ‘Ma, you’re collecting Sam today from playgroup, eh? Because I said I’d meet Pattie at the West End tea shop.’

  ‘Yes, I’m picking up Sam.’ Tilly raised her eyebrows. ‘I didn’t know you were meeting Pattie, but it’s a good move.’

  ‘How d’you mean, a good move?’

  ‘Well, shows you wish her all the best. Just like you said.’

  ‘I meant what I said,’ Lorna said coldly. ‘She is a friend. I want to give her my congratulations.’

  ‘One of these days, maybe folk will be congratulating you. For more than your band.’

  ‘Hope you aren’t going to mention finding Mr Right, Ma?’

  ‘I’m just thinking of you being on your own. It’s no picnic. I should know.’

  ‘You had me. I’ve got Sam.’

  Tilly smiled, but made no reply, not liking to say that children grow up, and quickly, too, very soon wanting to lead their own lives. They might come back, might help, give advice, but not stay. And who would think they should? Didn’t stop you being lonely, when they’d gone.

  Arriving first at the tea shop in Shandwick Place where she’d arranged to meet Pattie on her half day, Lorna was able to watch Ewen’s new fiancée approach through the crowded tables. How pretty she looked! Had she lost weight lately? Folk said brides usually lost weight, and if Pattie was not yet a bride, she certainly looked like one. Radiant, was the word.

  ‘Pattie, over here!’ she called, from her corner table. ‘I’ve ordered teacake and fancies – that OK? Or are you dieting?’

  Pattie, smiling, slid into a seat opposite Lorna, and shook her head. ‘You’ll never believe it, Lorna, but I’ve lost a stone, just since I got engaged! And you know I was always worrying about being too plump?’

  ‘You look wonderful, Pattie. Being engaged suits you.’

  ‘Being happy, you mean.’ Pattie stretched out her left hand. ‘Like to see ma ring?’

  ‘Why, it’s beautiful!’ Lorna cried, looking at the pretty diamond ring and thinking how well Ewen had done to afford it. Had he been saving for some time? For this particular engagement? Immediately, she brushed that question aside
and signalled to the waitress to bring their tea.

  ‘It’s really nice to see you, Lorna,’ Pattie murmured, as Lorna poured tea and passed buttered teacake. ‘Thanks for asking me.’

  ‘Well, I wanted to congratulate you and have a chat, just the two of us. I expect you’re soon going to be very busy, eh? With wedding plans?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Pattie gave a sunny smile. ‘Ewen’s no’ keen to wait, and neither am I. Canna wait to give up ma job at the post office, either. I sometimes wonder just how many stamps I’ve sold in all these years!’

  ‘You’re giving up work? A lot of women are wanting to stay on these days.’

  ‘Aye, that’s true.’ Pattie was blushing a little. ‘But, the thing is, we want to start a family soon as we can. Why hang about? Ewen says. And I feel the same. Seeing your wee Sam always made me feel broody!’

  ‘Never knew that. Must warn you that it’s no’ always easy, bringing up a bairn. I couldn’t have managed without Ma.’

  ‘No, but I’ve always admired you, Lorna,’ Pattie said earnestly. ‘The way you’ve coped, and run your band and been so successful and everything. I’m glad you asked me out today, because I want to tell you that I know you and Ewen have always been special friends, and I understand why. I do, honestly, and I don’t want to break that up, so please, if you need any help, or anything, don’t think he’s no’ there for you. He will be.’

  For a long moment, Lorna was silent, studying a small untouched cake on her plate. ‘I appreciate that, Pattie, more than I can say. It’s really lovely of you to think of me like that. But I know things are different when someone marries, and I’d never expect it to be the same for Ewen and me, now that he has you. You come first, you always will, and that’s how it should be.’ Lorna gave a quick smile. ‘But if I ever do need any advice, how would it be if I came to both of you? You’re my friend too, remember.’

  ‘As though I could ever give any advice to you,’ Pattie said warmly. ‘But, come anyway! Don’t drift away.’

  ‘And snap for you! First thing you’ll have to do, is see my new house, once I’ve got some furniture!’

  Lorna, reminded of Number 29, was thinking of all the pleasant times she should have, going to auctions and sale rooms to find just the right period pieces for her property. Flo and George, who’d expressed themselves thrilled by her acquisition, had promised to come with her whenever possible to advise on the bidding, and when all was complete, there would be, of course, a grand house-warming. That would be some way off, maybe, seeing as at present she had only her own personal possessions to put into her new home, but she had the plans, she had the ideas – she’d get there in the end. Suddenly, life seemed sweet again and she smiled as she called for the bill.

  ‘Yes, you must come round and see the house,’ she said again to Pattie. ‘Never mind the furniture, come while it’s still empty. My blank canvas, I call it, but it looks so nice, I can’t wait to settle in.’

  ‘You’re going to live in it all by yourself?’ Pattie asked, with some concern. ‘Won’t it be a bit lonely?’

  ‘Sam will be moving in when he’s older, and Ma will always be popping round, no’ to mention my Auntie Cissie, Flo and George, and you folks.’

  Pattie’s round blue eyes were soft with sympathy. ‘Lorna, do hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’m sure Mr Right’ll turn up one of these days. I mean, he’s bound to, for someone like you!’

  ‘Ah, the mysterious Mr Right.’ Lorna laughed, as she placed a tip for the waitress underneath a saucer. ‘Funny thing is, Pattie, strange as it may seem, I’m perfectly happy being Miss Right. I’ve got everything, you see – my boy, my band, and now my house. What more could I want?’

  As they left the tea shop together, they both knew what was missing. Or, might be considered missing, if Lorna wanted to think on those lines. But, then, she didn’t. Twice bitten, for ever shy, was her motto, even if no one believed it.

  Fifty-Four

  Pattie and Ewen were married on a bitterly cold day in January, 1954. The wedding was a quiet one at a Haymarket kirk, with a reception at a West End cafe, and a grand ‘going away’ for the bride and groom at Waverley Station before they left for honeymoon in London. The only bridesmaid was Pattie’s younger sister, which was a relief to Lorna, who had feared she might have been asked, too. Sam, who had been persuaded to act as pageboy, dressed in his first kilt and wee jacket, almost stole the show. Except for Pattie, of course, who had looked her absolute best in white velvet – not to mention, as she said, laughing, her long johns.

  ‘Just glad it’s all over,’ Ewen whispered to Lorna on the platform at Waverley. ‘But don’t tell Pattie, eh? Feels like she’s been planning this day for ever.’

  ‘She certainly looks wonderful,’ Lorna told him. ‘I know you’re going to be very happy.’

  ‘Aye, if we can find a place to live. Have to find a wee flat soon, or we’ll be staying with one of our mothers.’

  ‘You can always stay at my place, Ewen. It isn’t properly furnished yet – sometimes wonder if it ever will be – but there’s plenty of room and I’ve got two more tours planned, so I won’t be around much.’

  ‘Oh, thanks, Lorna, thanks a lot, but we couldn’t do that,’ he said hastily. ‘When you are home, you’ll want to work on your house and we wouldn’t want to get in the way.’

  ‘Well, the offer’s there, so don’t forget.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  As he was called to hurry to board the train, he gave Lorna a last hug, then ran to embrace Pattie’s mother and his own, before joining his bride to wave and blow kisses while the confetti rained.

  ‘There they go, then,’ Tilly murmured, as the great London train slowly began to leave the station. ‘Make a lovely pair, eh?’

  ‘Lovely,’ Lorna agreed and, taking Sam’s hand, said they’d better be getting home.

  ‘Which home?’ asked Tilly. ‘I’ve asked a whole lot of folk back to mine, so you’d better come as well.’

  ‘Hope I don’t have to eat any more of that wedding cake,’ Sam exclaimed. ‘Currants and icing – ugh! And I hope nobody else kisses me, either.’

  His grandmother laughed and said he’d been such a good boy, she’d give him his favourite supper as soon as the guests had gone – beans on toast with a fried egg on top.

  ‘And I’ll give you some extra pocket money,’ Lorna promised. ‘Ma, shall we take a taxi, Pattie’s mother’s asking? We’re all in our glad rags.’

  ‘A taxi? No, what a waste.’ Tilly waved to those coming back with her. ‘Come on, we’ll get the tram. Nae bother, eh?’

  But for once Tilly was outvoted and everyone squashed into taxis and drove back to her flat in style, to continue the reception in more relaxed fashion.

  ‘If only I’d got my house ready,’ Lorna sighed to Flo and George. ‘It would have been perfect for something like this. But I never get any time!’

  ‘Soon as we get back from the next tour, we’ll hit those auctions,’ Flo promised. ‘Then you can get the decorating done and you’ll be in business.’

  ‘Aye, because we’re all waiting for that house-warming you promised us,’ said George. ‘And we know you’re wanting to invite half Scotland to that!’

  ‘Only the folks who play in swing bands,’ Lorna told him. ‘No, but seriously, I am inviting all the musicians I know. Even Jackie Craik.’

  ‘Help!’ Flo cried. ‘You’ll be asking Luke Riddell next!’

  ‘Oh, yes, Luke will be coming, and Suzie.’ Lorna grinned. ‘I’ve just got to get a few chairs and a table first!’

  Fifty-Five

  Finding the right furniture for Number 29 proved, however, to be more difficult than Lorna had ever imagined. Buying at auction and sales was not, of course, like buying at a shop. You couldn’t just choose what you want, pay for it and have it delivered. No, you had to work through the catalogues, go to the previews, tick off what you liked, work out a bid, then suffer the ordeal of seeing most of your favourite pi
eces go to other bidders.

  ‘It’s all your fault, George,’ Lorna told him. ‘You won’t let me up my bids, so I end up losing out.’

  ‘Fatal to start upping bids, Lorna. Once you’ve decided what something’s worth to you, you stick to that figure. Otherwise, it’s all too easy to lose your head and pay out ridiculous money for something that isn’t worth it.’

  ‘Shame you can’t buy new,’ Flo said, ‘but I agree, you need to get stuff that matches the house. And what they make today looks so flimsy, it probably won’t last five minutes.’

  ‘And priced far too high,’ George put in. ‘Second hand is best, particularly as I think we should be considering keeping costs down.’

  ‘I’m no’ worrying too much about keeping costs down,’ Lorna told him.

  ‘Well, maybe you should be. All of us should.’

  ‘What’s this, then, George?’ Flo asked, widening her eyes. ‘An economy campaign? Has something happened?’

  ‘No, no, nothing’s happened. It’s just that sometimes I can’t help wondering if our particular bubble might burst.’ He lowered his eyes. ‘You know how it is, these fears come, don’t they?’

  ‘Do they?’ Lorna’s brow was furrowed. ‘Seems to me we’re doing so well, there’s no need for you to worry.’

  He paused for a moment. ‘You remember that time I talked about rockabilly music? Well, it’s struck me since that that might turn out to be – like they say – the cloud that’s no bigger than a man’s hand. If you understand me.’

  ‘No, we don’t,’ Flo said bluntly. ‘Bubbles, clouds – I don’t know what’s got into you, George.’

  ‘The cloud that’s no bigger than a man’s hand might come before a thunderstorm,’ George said patiently. ‘Or, disaster of some sort. One minute, you’ve a clear horizon, the next, darkness. But . . . hell, I’m not saying we’re facing that, of course.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Lorna asked quickly. ‘Something’s in the wind and you don’t like it?’