‘No need to swear,’ said Pat.
As the strains of ‘Cheek to Cheek’ began, Peggy was in the wings with Macy. ‘Just be careful not to dip your head too quickly. The petticoat material is wrapped round tight, but the chiffon is only attached to it by the brooches. Macy nodded, hoisted up the dress and swept onto the stage.
She was a picture of elegance, moving effortlessly to the music, so light and graceful. The dress clung to her curves and her beautifully fashioned turban glittered in the spotlights. As the final bars played, Macy finished statue-like centre stage, her arms gently lifted upwards. There was a burst of rapturous applause and she smiled her thanks. Then the audience began to cheer and Macy swept into a deep curtsey and bowed her head. The turban, top heavy with the Tappers’ brooches, tipped forward and in a flash Macy reached upwards and caught it. Too late, she felt the top of the dress slip – there was a gasp from the audience and the men stood as one and roared their approval.
The Imperial Hotel on Donegall Square had recently been refurbished and was attracting well-to-do Belfast couples as well as businessmen from further afield. The walls of the lounge were panelled in pale oak and the dark blue upholstery with gold trimmings gave it an air of luxury. Goldstein, anxious to impress, had reserved a cosy corner area for the after-show discussions and had ordered coffee, brandy and cigars.
He had anticipated meeting the Americans with Pat as liaison officer and Peggy as assistant director, but when all four sisters emerged from backstage together and everyone was introduced, Tony Farrelly insisted that they should all come along. On the way to the hotel Peggy fell into step with Tony and every now and then Pat, who was walking ahead with Goldstein, caught the sound of their laughter.
‘The thing is, Peggy, you guys are real friendly, but Ireland’s so different, you know. In the camp it’s just like being in the US. The food and bunkhouses are the same, we mix with the same guys, but when we come away from that, like into the city, well it’s all kinda strange. We tried to find a restaurant tonight, but to be honest pretty much everywhere was closed and then we found a little place but …’ he laughed. ‘Let’s just say, it wasn’t what we’re used to. Same with the room we got for the night.’
They came in through the hotel’s revolving doors and Tony was clearly impressed. ‘Wow, wish I’d known about this place.’
‘Maybe there should be restaurants and hotels just for the US Army – like a home from home,’ laughed Peggy and nothing seemed more natural at that moment than for Tony to step aside and usher her past the huge coffee table towards the comfortable sofa and, just as naturally, when she sat down Tony sat next to her. Pat ended up opposite them and watched in disbelief as her sister flirted and Tony fell under her spell.
The coffee was served and Goldstein began. ‘First of all I must apologise for the unforgivable incident with … ah …’ – he searched for a polite form of words to describe Macy’s indiscreet revelation – ‘the décolletage mishap with Ginger Rogers’ dress.’
All three officers looked at each other and couldn’t contain their laugher.
‘Jeez,’ said Dwight, ‘is that what it was? Where I come from we’d call that–’
‘Easy, buddy, there are ladies present!’ said Tony, but by this time the girls had given up any semblance of modesty and were rocking with laughter too.
Goldstein tried to continue. ‘Obviously there will be no such burlesque in future performances.’
‘You mean the guys back at base won’t get to see that?’ Dwight feigned disappointment.
‘It … it would be entirely inappropriate,’ Goldstein stuttered.
‘Don’t worry, sir,’ said Tony. ‘He’s pulling your leg. Now let’s get down to business. We think your show was great.’ He looked at his fellow officers, who nodded their agreement, ‘and we’d love to have you perform for our men, but I’m afraid a few of the acts would have to go.’
The girls looked anxiously at each other.
‘We are glad you liked it,’ said Goldstein. ‘Pat and I also discussed a few adjustments.’
‘The fact is,’ Tony went on, ‘the gags weren’t funny at all and the whole thing needs a compère who can chat to the boys between the acts, tell a few gags, get them in the mood. You know the kind of thing?’ Without waiting for an answer he went on. ‘The ventriloquist and the magician would also have to go and a few other things as well.’
By now the post-show excitement had faded and the girls sat glum-faced.
‘Was there anything you did like?’ asked Irene.
‘Sure, there was. We loved everything that reminded us of home: you girls with all the familiar songs; the dancers and Macy; the crooner too.’
‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Pat.
‘Well, Patti, you and I will have to find some home-grown American talent to fill the gaps. There are plenty of wise guys in the camps.’
On the way home there was excited talk about the prospect of touring the US bases, but Pat spoke not a word and Irene, squeezed next to her in the back of Goldstein’s car, could sense that she was seething.
Once inside the house, Peggy couldn’t resist teasing Pat. ‘He’s very handsome your captain, isn’t he?’
‘He’s not my captain.’
‘No, of course not, he’s not your type. Though I must say, I found him very easy to talk to and great fun.’
Pat opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it and took herself off to bed.
‘Goodnight, Patti!’ Peggy called after her.
When the house was still and quiet and everyone was in bed, Irene whispered across the room to Pat, ‘Are you still awake?’
‘Yes.’
‘You shouldn’t let Peggy get the better of you.’
‘But she deliberately sets out to annoy me.’
‘Because you let her – every time. You walk straight into it. She could see you didn’t like her chatting to Tony so she started flirting with him.’
‘Am I that obvious?’
Irene yawned. ‘Pat, men are simpler than you think. You should try taking a leaf out of Peggy’s book.’
Chapter 32
By July 1942 the American concerts by the newly-named Stars and Stripes Show were in full swing and several camps were involved in the baseball league. Around the same time Martha became aware of changes in Pat: something about her hair that emphasised her cheekbones; her clothing coupons all spent; her smile wider. Martha didn’t know what had brought about the changes, but she told herself that if anyone needed a wee bit of happiness, it was certainly that child.
Pat had been working late every night for a week, telling her mother, ‘I’ll have my tea warmed up when I get home.’ She told Irene she was working on a new project, ‘Something really exciting Tony has come up with, but I can’t say anything yet.’
Then on Sunday evening while they were all listening to the wireless, Peggy suddenly announced, ‘I’m meeting Tony Farrelly tomorrow.’
They looked at her, then at Pat, who appeared not to have heard.
‘Why are you meeting him?’ asked Irene.
‘Oh, I made a suggestion to him a while ago – the night he came to the Grosvenor Hall concert – about opening a place in Belfast for GIs. We’re going to discuss it.’
Pat whipped round and glared at Peggy. ‘What are you talking about? That’s our idea – mine and Tony’s – nobody’s supposed to know about it!’
‘I think you’ll find it’s something Tony and I discussed ages ago. Anyway, I’m taking him to see some premises that might be suitable.’
‘Premises!’ Pat snapped. ‘What premises? Tony would have told me if–’
‘Well clearly he didn’t.’
Irene stood up. ‘Now stop this right now, Peggy! You’re just doing this to–’
‘What premises?’ Pat asked again.
Peggy smiled. ‘The Plaza Ballroom.’
Pat let out a yell of frustration and ran out of the room.
In Stormont the n
ext day there were more raised voices.
‘No, it wasn’t her idea … well, not really,’ said Tony.
‘Not really! Was it or wasn’t it?’
‘Let’s say she got me thinking–’
‘I’ll bet she did!’
‘Listen, will you? She just said it would be good for GIs to have places to go that were just like back home.’
‘Well, there you are! Next thing you’re having lunch and looking at premises. We’ve been working on this together, now all of a sudden it’s you and Peggy!’
‘Is that what this is all about? Your sister?’
Pat opened her mouth to shout and closed it again. And the tears began to prick her eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Patti, will you let me explain?’
She slumped into a chair and stared at the floor.
‘On Saturday I ran into Goldstein on Royal Avenue,’ Tony began. ‘You and I had talked about the sort of premises we’d need for a GI club. So I asked him, on the off chance, if he knew somewhere. He suggested the Plaza; he said he knew the realtor and would arrange for me to see it. Next thing I’m in his shop and he’s organised everything, even suggests that I should take Peggy with me because she knows the building well. I was going to tell you this morning so you could come with us.’
‘Come with you! Me? Set foot in the Plaza again? Never!’
Pat spent the rest of the morning organising transport for a concert to celebrate the opening of the new US base at Langford Lodge on the shores of Lough Neagh, but the thought of Tony and Peggy at the Plaza was never far from her mind. By the afternoon she had made a decision and left her desk to walk the length of the corridor to the office of the staffing manager.
When Tony returned it was as though their conversation in the morning had never taken place. ‘Oh Patti, you should’ve been there! The place is incredible, just what we dreamed of. We’ll make it a real home away from home for the guys visiting Belfast – a bunkhouse, dance hall, restaurant. Everything! And we can swing it with the money. I’m talking about ripping it out and making it fabulous.’
‘Well, I wish you good luck,’ said Pat, without looking up from her paperwork.
‘What do you mean, you wish me good luck? We’re doing this together – you and me.’
‘I told you, I’m having nothing to do with the Plaza. In fact, I’m having nothing more to with US liaison. I’ve requested a transfer to another post.’
‘What the hell! A transfer? Why?’
Pat shrugged her shoulders.
‘But you can’t do that, not after–’
‘Yes I can,’ and she put on her coat and left.
That night Pat went to bed early, rather than sit in Peggy’s company. It was late when Irene came upstairs so she undressed in the dark and slipped quietly into bed.
‘Pat, are you awake?’
‘Umm.’
‘I’ve been talking to Peggy about her trip to the Plaza today.’
‘I don’t want to know, Irene. It has nothing to do with me.’
‘Oh, but it has. All Tony did was talk about you – how glad he was that he had you working with him – your energy, your ideas. He said that you’d know how to make the club a success. Pat, are you listening?’
‘I’ve asked for a transfer.’
‘Ah, Pat, why do you do this to yourself? I saw the way he looked at you on the night of the concert. He knows how beautiful and talented you are–’
‘Ha,’ said Pat, ‘you mean Peggy, don’t you?’
‘No! Peggy was just being a flirt. He had to look at her, she gave him no choice. Give him a chance, a moment, and you’ll see all that I’ve told you right there in his face.’
Tony was leaning against the side of the jeep when Pat arrived for work the following morning.
‘Please, Patti, will you just do one thing for me?’ There was an anxious air about him that she had never seen before. ‘Come and look at the Plaza and, if you don’t think that it’s right, I swear I’ll forget all about it.’
They drove in silence. Pat shivered as she stepped out of the bright sunshine and into the chill air of the Plaza. The interior was dark, lit only by a small window high above them. She looked around her. She recognised nothing.
‘Wait here,’ said Tony. ‘I’ll turn on the electric and we’ll have a look around.’
Had she come through this entrance hall the night of the John McCormack concert? Tony called out to her and she crossed the foyer and came through the double doors into the dance hall just as the lights came on. The air was stale – the same trapped air she had breathed that awful night. She shuddered at the memory of it, the shame of it. She took a few slow steps and looked up at the nicotine-stained ceiling and the suspended glitter ball dulled by dust. She did not know this place.
She walked across the scored and stained dance floor to the stage – how small it looked. Part of the curtain had come away from its rail and lay draped on the piano. Was this where she had stood?
The sense of hopelessness she had experienced after William was killed came rushing back and she remembered too the dark time when she couldn’t bring herself to sing. But it was here in this dance hall where she truly lost her voice. Lost it … like those who danced here might lose a scarf, a handkerchief, their inhibitions, their heart.
‘Patti, are you okay?’ Tony was at her side.
‘Yes.’
‘You look kinda sad.’
She turned to him, saw the concern in his eyes and something else on his face. ‘No I’m not sad,’ she said. ‘It’s this place that’s sad.’
‘You hate it?’
Pat shook her head. ‘No, I don’t hate it. It means nothing to me.’
‘Do you want to see the rest of it?’
‘No, there’s no need. Will we rip it all out and make it new?’
Tony nodded. ‘Just like we planned – somewhere special for the guys. The ballroom will be beautiful, there’ll be concerts. Maybe you’ll sing here.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Pat and together they went out into the warm sunshine.
Across the city Irene and Macy were in the aircraft factory canteen having their dinner break.
‘So how was your weekend with Sandy. Did you miss the marching Orangemen?’
Irene stared dreamily into the distance. ‘It was great. We stayed in a little cottage next to the lough. There was a boat and we rowed out to an island. We hardly saw a soul the whole time. I could have stayed there forever. Did I tell you we’re saving up to buy a house? I’ve opened a Post Office account.’
But Macy wasn’t listening, ‘Have you seen that?’
Irene followed her gaze across the room to where one of the men was reading the Belfast Telegraph. The headline on the front page read ‘Six Men on Trial for Police Murder’. Macy borrowed the paper and quickly scanned the details, reading under her breath. ‘“The men were named as” … no mention of Finn. Wait a minute. “Police are still seeking two other men, believed to be brothers, in connection with the case.” Jeez, that’ll be Finn and Michael! I know it!’
‘What does it mean they’re seeking them? If it’s Finn and Michael they know where they live; they’ve arrested them once already.’ Irene caught her breath. ‘Unless … unless they’ve gone into hiding.’ Irene closed her eyes. It was happening all over again. ‘Poor Theresa. The same thing happened with her brother Sean. You remember I told you about him?’
‘The boy you almost ran away with to America? You never told me what happened exactly. ’
‘A policeman was shot during a riot. Sean was there because the police had come to take his father to prison, to intern him, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. They tried to arrest Sean for the policeman’s murder, but he got away and hid somewhere in Donegal. A few months later he sneaked back into Belfast because his mother was dying and he wanted to …’ Irene bowed her head, remembering. ‘I was at the house that night with Theresa when he arrived. It was as though his mother had
waited to see him one last time. She took a turn for the worse and Theresa went to fetch the doctor. But the police had found out that Sean was there and raided the house. There was a way out through the roof space and the attics of the terraced houses. Sean and I hid up there … together … until his friends helped him slip away.’
Macy nodded. ‘And now the same thing has happened to Theresa again, only this time it’s her husband Michael who’s on the run. That’s tough.’
The Stars and Stripes Show had come a long way since the meeting at the Imperial Hotel. Once they understood that the GIs liked what was familiar or reminded them of home, they increased the number of acts to include some American soldiers. There was now a sergeant from Brooklyn who did a great comic routine, a trio of black tap dancers from Chicago and a small jazz band. Macy had even gained her very own Fred Astaire.
The huge new base at Langford Lodge, built for the repair and maintenance of US aircraft, and rumoured to have cost millions of dollars, had been chosen as the venue for the biggest Stars and Stripes concert so far. Pat had worked hard to coordinate all the arrangements for an evening show in late August. It was to be held in the open air with an audience of one thousand US soldiers. The only thing Pat had left to chance was the weather.
On the morning of the show she awoke to grey skies and fine drizzle and her heart sank.
‘They say that Lough Neagh has its own weather; it can be beautiful one minute and blowing a storm the next,’ said Irene.
‘Well, thank you for that reassuring weather forecast,’ said Pat. ‘Sure, aren’t you a ray of sunshine yourself!’
There was a heavy shower at around four as the bus was approaching the lough and Pat knew that when she got to the base she would have to consult with her contacts there about whether to move the show into the mess hall and reduce the audience by half. She need not have worried – by teatime the rain had stopped, and by curtain up the skies were clear. The specially erected stage was a good size and the sound, when tested, proved to be very powerful. The officer in charge of the technical arrangements assured Pat that it was more up to date than a Broadway theatre and cost twice as much.
Golden Sisters Page 32