The Melody Girls

by Anne Douglas

‘Don’t look so disapproving!’ Lorna cried. ‘It’s worked out well. Everyone says what a fine boy he is and how happy he is, too. And come September, when he moves to a Merchant Company School, he’ll be coming to live with me in a house I’ve bought. Ma will stay over when I’m away.’

  ‘I’m not disapproving,’ Rod said heavily. ‘I think you’ve done the best you could, with the help of your mother. You must be very grateful to her.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘So, when can I see him, then?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to prepare him.’

  ‘OK, prepare him. But make it soon. Ever since Josh told me I had a son, all I’ve wanted is to see him.’ Rod suddenly reached across to touch Lorna’s hand. ‘And you, Lorna. Josh told me you two had parted.’

  Lorna, moving her hand from his, stood up. ‘Maybe you’d better go now, Rod. I’ll talk to Sam and then I’ll get in touch. Where are you staying?’

  ‘At the West City Hotel. You want the number?’

  ‘It’ll be in the book.’

  ‘You won’t leave it too long?’

  ‘No, I want to get this over as much as you.’

  He nodded and after an awkward moment, made as though he would offer to shake hands, then thought better of it.

  ‘I’ll go, then.’

  She went with him to the door, where he stood, looking around at her studio.

  ‘So, the Melody Girls have gone? Got something on tonight, I expect?’

  ‘Yes, at one of the hotel ballrooms.’

  ‘You’ve done well,’ he said softly. ‘I congratulate you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I can’t drop you anywhere?’

  ‘No, I’m all right, thanks all the same.’

  ‘I’ll wait for your call, then.’

  ‘Goodbye, Rod.’

  ‘Goodbye, Lorna.’

  She watched him open the door of his hire car, glance back at her, smile uncertainly, and drive away. Then she returned to her office and sat at her desk, staring into space, her hands shaking, while her mind remained strangely, completely, blank.

  Sixty

  Before Sam was due home from school, Lorna went to see her mother. By that time, of course, the numbness that had overtaken her after Rod’s visit had vanished, leaving her feeling so dazed, it was as if she were hurtling round – round and round – on some unknown fairground wheel.

  Rod back? Rod knowing about Sam? Rod wanting to see Sam? She’d never expected anything like this, yet knew she’d been foolish not to prepare for it. Prepare her defences, make her case for bringing up her child the way she wanted. She had that right, hadn’t she? Yet, here Rod was, at the gates of her home, as it were, wanting in, wanting to see Sam, and the truth of the matter was that she had never dreamed that he would care.

  ‘Well!’ Tilly cried, after Lorna had burst into the flat with her news. ‘Well, so he’s back! After all these years, here he is, that fellow who never married you, and wanting to see your son! So you tell him what he can do, Lorna! The very idea, thinking he could just stroll in and tell you what he wants. The cheek of it, eh?’

  ‘Ma, we must be fair. Rod never refused to marry me, I didn’t want to marry him. And he never knew about Sam, because I never told him – you know that.’

  ‘Who did tell him, then?’

  Lorna sat down and took a deep breath. ‘It was Josh.’

  ‘Josh? How did he ever come to see Josh?’

  ‘Josh is in America now. He’s hoping to break into films.’

  ‘Oh, my.’ Tilly sat back, flicking a handkerchief in front of her face. ‘Lorna, this is beyond me. I canna take it in. Josh in America, wanting to be a film star, telling your Rod about our Sam – what next?’

  ‘I felt the same, Ma. I couldn’t take it in. But, it happened. Josh went seeking Rod in Los Angeles and as soon as he heard about Sam, Rod came home. Seemingly, he’s desperate to see the son he never knew he had.’

  ‘Desperate! I’d give him “desperate”! Should have thought of the consequences before he got you in the family way.’ Tilly stood up to do the one thing she could count on in any sudden upheaval, which was to put the kettle on. ‘I’m away to make some tea, Lorna. Then you’d better decide what you plan to do.’

  ‘What can I do, Ma? I can’t stop Rod seeing Sam. Besides, I know Sam will want to see him.’

  ‘How do you know he wants to see him? Sam’s only asked the once about his dad.’

  ‘We don’t know how much he’s thought about him.’

  Tilly, the teapot in her hand, stood in the doorway, her pale blue eyes filling with tears, her lip trembling. ‘Aye, laddies do want their dads. Never mind what we do, they still want their dads, eh?’

  ‘Oh, Ma, Sam loves us!’ Lorna put her arm round her mother’s shoulders. ‘Of course, he’ll want to see Rod, but we’re the ones he knows. We’ve brought him up.’

  ‘I’ll make the tea,’ Tilly whispered. ‘Be thinking how you’ll tell him, then. It’ll be a shock, eh, whatever you do?’

  Some time later, Sam, now old enough to walk home from school himself, arrived at the flat, calling for something to eat.

  ‘Any wee buns, Gramma?’ he cried, when he’d allowed Lorna to kiss him and his grandmother to give him a hug. ‘Any flapjack?’

  ‘You and your flapjack,’ she said fondly, opening up her cake tins. ‘But before you have it, your ma’s got something to tell you.’

  ‘What?’

  As he busied himself opening his satchel and taking out his homework books, Lorna’s heart missed a beat. Another Rod, wasn’t he? Now that she’d seen Rod again, the likeness between Sam and his father was even more obvious than she’d thought, their only difference being the colour of their hair, fair for Rod, red for Sam. There were the same blue-grey eyes, though, the same short, straight nose, the same cheerful smile. How strange it would be for Rod to see a miniature version of himself! How comforting, to know for the first time that somewhere in the world there was someone of your own who shared your looks, your family’s inheritance, and who would always be special!

  ‘Sam,’ she said quietly, ‘come here a minute.’

  As he came to stand beside her, she held him close, then let him go. ‘You know I told you once about your dad?’

  His face at once alert, he nodded.

  ‘Well, he’s here. He’s come back from America on a visit and he’d like to see you.’

  ‘When? When will he see me?’ Rod’s eyes in Sam’s face were alight. ‘Is he coming here? Is he coming today?’

  ‘He’s no’ coming today, we have to arrange a meeting. Maybe at my house, after school tomorrow?’

  ‘Ah, why no’ today? I want to see him today!’

  ‘Yes, well, I have to telephone him, you see, and fix it up. It’ll be better tomorrow, Sam, when you can be all ready—’

  ‘I can be ready now!’

  ‘Sam, listen to what your ma says,’ Tilly put in. ‘We’ll all go to your ma’s house after school and then your dad can meet you there. Now, here’s your flapjack. Like some milk?’

  ‘I’d rather have lemonade.’ Sam, his brightness fading, sat at the table, working out how long it would be before he could see his father. As Tilly frowned, he added hastily, ‘Please.’

  ‘All right, just this once.’

  Tilly’s eyes met Lorna’s. The time had been arranged. Now all they had to do was tell Rod and wait for tomorrow.

  What was surprising for Lorna was that she wanted it to come; wanted to see Rod again. After so many years of pushing him to the back of her mind, of thinking she could be happy with someone else, how strange it should be that she should find herself wanting, as desperately as Sam, to see him again. It was only because she’d seen him, she told herself. Once he’d gone back to America, she would be sure to forget him again. Only now she was no longer sure that she had ever, truly, forgotten Rod.

  Sixty-One

  Standing the following afternoon in the hall of 29, Grosvenor Place, e
veryone was nervous.

  There was Lorna, clasping and unclasping her hands together. There was Sam, straight from school but already hustled into a clean white shirt by Tilly and gazing fixedly at the front door. There was Tilly herself, pretending to be unconcerned, but wearing a touch of lipstick, which she scarcely ever did, and glancing too often at the clock in the corner.

  ‘Four, I asked him to come,’ Lorna murmured. ‘Five minutes to go.’

  ‘Sure to be on time,’ Tilly replied. ‘If he’s as keen as you say.’

  ‘He’s keen, all right.’

  Suddenly, piercingly, as the clock struck four, the doorbell rang, making them all jump and look at one another.

  ‘On time,’ Tilly said, holding Sam’s hand. ‘Like I said.’

  ‘I’ll go.’ Lorna moved slowly forwards, opened the solid, shining front door and took a step or two back. ‘Rod, please come in.’

  Though he was trying hard to seem at ease as he stepped into the hall carrying a large wrapped box, Lorna could tell he was as nervous as everyone else. His fair hair was well brushed, his light jacket elegant, but his hands on the box were trembling as he looked straight to Sam and for a moment he did not speak.

  ‘Ma, this is Rod,’ Lorna said hurriedly, and as Tilly nodded coolly, Sam’s eyes on his father were round with wonder. ‘Rod, this is my mother.’

  ‘Mrs Fernie, I’m so glad to meet you.’

  Setting down his box for a moment, Rod put out a hand, but his eyes had quickly returned to Sam, now standing close to Lorna.

  ‘At last,’ said Tilly, shaking the hand.

  ‘And this is Sam.’

  Lorna, pushing him forward a little, could think of nothing else to say. ‘Sam this is your father’ – how could she say that to a schoolboy? How could anyone introduce a son to his father at this late stage? Her cheeks were scarlet, her eyes pricking with tears, she felt the whole scene to be impossible; it couldn’t be happening.

  But Rod, was already stooping to look into his son’s face, his eyes as filled with wonder as Sam’s, while Sam himself was venturing a smile.

  ‘Hi, Sam,’ Rod was saying softly. ‘You don’t know how happy I am to meet you.’

  ‘Are you – really – my dad?’

  ‘I am.’

  Suddenly, as Sam leaped to take his hands, Rod was laughing, looking up from his son to Lorna and Tilly.

  ‘Has anyone shown this young guy a mirror? He has my face, would you believe? He has my exact face!’

  And as he swept Sam into his arms, both Lorna and Tilly burst into tears.

  Tea was laid in the kitchen, a large sunny room, painted yellow and white by Lorna, and furnished courtesy of the second-hand shops with a large deal table and some rather suspect chairs. Not that anyone had a thought to spare for a wobbly chair, or even the splendid tea Tilly had put together, though of course they all helped themselves to her scones and fruit cake made with ingredients no longer hard to find, her flapjack specially brought over for Sam. But even Sam’s attention was elsewhere, for the exciting box his father had brought had now been opened and found to contain a train set.

  A train set! And an American one at that! As his eyes went over the strange looking engine, the carriages and lines, Sam could hardly speak.

  ‘For me?’ he asked in a whisper.

  ‘Sure, it’s for you,’ Rod told him. ‘Question is, where are you going to put it?’

  ‘Here,’ Lorna said promptly. ‘I’ve got plenty of room.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ Tilly murmured. ‘I’ve got none to spare at all.’

  ‘But when will I play with it?’ Sam wailed.

  ‘Why, whenever you like,’ Lorna said. ‘And you’ll be living here all the time in September, don’t forget.’

  ‘Oh, yes, that’s right.’ His eyes shining, he turned to look at Rod. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you, Dad.’

  It was no wonder then that at the tea table, Sam could only manage to eat while holding at least the engine on his knee, and having the box with the rest of the set close by his feet, while the grown-ups made small talk.

  ‘Such a lovely house, Lorna,’ Rod was murmuring, and, ‘Wonderful baking, Mrs Fernie. Haven’t tasted scones like these since I left Scotland.’

  ‘Aye, well it’s nice to be finished with the rationing.’

  ‘Thought it’d go on for ever,’ Lorna added.

  ‘Though you wouldn’t know about that,’ Tilly told Rod. ‘Seeing as you’ve been away so long.’

  Time and again her gaze was returning to him, taking in the wide brow, the open, friendly look, the willing smile, and Lorna knew just what was going through her mind. Was this the awful cad who’d caused so much trouble? The absent father, who’d left Lorna in the lurch? This nice, kind fellow, who could scarcely take his eyes off the small boy who was his image? What had gone wrong, then?

  Yes, what had gone wrong? Lorna herself was wondering. Why had she let him go? The thought slipped into her mind, as furtively as though it knew it shouldn’t be there. Because she knew why she’d let Rod go in spite of her love for him. If she had married him, there would have been no Melody Girls, no career that meant so much, nothing that she’d made her own. And though the old attraction was creeping back – she felt it more and more – she couldn’t regret the decision she’d made all those years ago. If only, though, she hadn’t had to choose between her love and her music. If only, she could have had both. There was the real regret.

  ‘So, what have you been doing in America?’ she asked coolly, as teatime neared its end. ‘Playing the trumpet?’

  ‘Yes, but with different bands. Finished up with a cracker – Joe Hunt – terrific chap. Though I’ve left him now and don’t play the trumpet any more.’

  ‘Oh? What, then?’

  ‘The guitar.’

  At the look on her face, he shook his head. ‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, Lorna. I’m with a group, we play rock and roll. But let’s leave that for the moment.’ Rod glanced at Sam, still fingering his engine. ‘I think Sam here would like us to set up the rails, if that’s possible? You did say you had the space.’

  ‘Oh, yes, there’s an upstairs room I was going to let Sam use anyway, for homework and studying.’ Lorna smiled. ‘But maybe the train set has priority at the moment. Come on, I’ll take you up.’

  When she’d left the father and son completely absorbed in the task of setting up the train set rails, Lorna ran swiftly downstairs to sound out her mother’s views on Rod.

  ‘Just doing the tea things,’ Tilly called from the kitchen. ‘You can dry, if you like.’

  ‘OK.’ Lorna took up a tea towel. ‘So, what do you think?’

  ‘Of Rod Warren?’ Tilly pursed her lips. ‘Never thought I’d say it, but he seems a nice fellow. No’ what I’d imagined at all.’

  ‘What did you imagine, then? Somebody who looked like the villain of the piece?’

  ‘I did think of him like that. Was only natural, eh?’

  ‘So, now you think he’s a nice fellow. He is. Just got the wrong ideas, that’s all. Which is why we parted.’

  ‘Never thought of meeting halfway?’

  ‘There was no halfway, Ma. He just didn’t want me to have my own career.’

  ‘I see your point, Lorna. I always did, because you’d your dad’s talent and I knew it shouldn’t be wasted.’ Tilly sighed and hung up the dish mop. ‘All the same, seems a shame you couldn’t have come to some agreement.’

  ‘I think I hear the chaps coming down,’ Lorna said with relief at ending the conversation. ‘It’s maybe time for Rod to go. Sam should be thinking about a bit of supper and bed.’

  ‘He’ll be far too excited to sleep. And maybe no’ the only one, eh?’

  Maybe not.

  ‘Think I’d better be on my way,’ Rod said, his eyes going to Lorna, who guessed he was hoping she might say he needn’t, but she only nodded and put her arm round Sam.

  ‘It’s been good to see you, Rod. And
for Sam to meet you. Thank you for coming.’

  ‘And thank you for my train set,’ Sam cried, and running to Rod, reached up to fling his arms around him. ‘Will you come again? Will you?’

  ‘I’d like to.’ Rod, releasing him, looked again at Lorna and then Tilly. ‘If I may.’

  ‘Come tomorrow!’ Sam urged. ‘Ma, my dad can come tomorrow, can’t he? And I’ll come here after school, eh?’

  ‘I suppose that would be all right,’ Lorna said slowly. ‘If Gramma agrees, Sam.’

  ‘Aye, we’ll come here,’ Tilly said. ‘But you’ll still have your homework to do, Sam. Remember that.’

  ‘Och, it’s just a few sums,’ he said airily. ‘I bet Dad will help me, anyway.’

  ‘Hey, who says I’m good at sums?’ Rod asked, laughing. ‘But I’ll do my best. Goodbye, Mrs Fernie, and thanks again for that delicious tea. Sam, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, then. Be a good boy for your grandmother now. Lorna, will you see me out?’

  At the front door, they stood looking at each other.

  ‘You haven’t changed at all,’ Rod said softly.

  ‘Neither have you.’

  ‘No, I mean it.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  ‘We’re both the same as we were, then, outwardly.’ Rod took Lorna’s hand. ‘Maybe not otherwise. Lorna, can we meet? Have dinner?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ve no evenings free. People are still booking us, thank the Lord.’

  ‘Lunch, then. Can we have lunch tomorrow?’

  She let her hand drop from his, but managed a smile. ‘I’d like to, Rod. Where shall we meet?’

  ‘I’m out of touch, don’t know the restaurants. Can you suggest somewhere?’

  ‘There’s a nice little place in Rose Street. Just a cafe, but I think you’d like it.’

  ‘I’ll like anywhere,’ he said fervently. ‘As long as I can persuade you to be there.’

  They fixed a time, but when Lorna prepared to close her door, Rod quickly kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘Till tomorrow, Lorna.’

  ‘Till tomorrow.’

  Her phone was ringing as she turned away, and Tilly shouted that it was Flo on the line.

  ‘Want to know how things went?’ Lorna asked, for she had of course told Flo and George of Rod’s return and projected visit to Sam.