Birmingham Blitz (30 page)

‘Get back to your place, Nance,’ Agatha ordered her. ‘And keep your catty mitts off Genie. What the ’ell d’you think you’re playing at?’

For the rest of the afternoon Nancy gave me looks of such poisonous hatred along the table that I began to wonder if she was a bit barmy. But it didn’t touch me. Nancy Hogan could go take a running jump.

‘Will he be coming to the show on Friday?’ I asked Doris.

She grinned at me. ‘Who would that be, Genie?’ She relented quickly. ‘As he’s home I’d be very surprised if he doesn’t.’

‘I’m working Friday,’ Mom said when she got home that night, unsteady with exhaustion.

‘Can’t you swap?’ I called through from the kitchen. ‘Everyone else’s going.’

Nanny Rawson never took much persuasion to play and sing. It was her one escape from the house, the endless work. And Lil said she’d come and bring the kids.

Mom sat in an armchair, leaning down, rubbing her ankles. ‘No, don’t think so,’ she said listlessly.

I heard her get up and pour herself a drink. Suddenly I was full of angry determination. I wanted this so badly, wanted us all singing there together on Friday, and I wanted Joe Broadbent to see us. Without Mom’s high-reaching voice which complemented Lil’s deeper one, it wouldn’t be the same.

Standing by the kitchen door I watched her sit down with a glass half full of gin.

‘You managed to sort your shifts out all right when it suited you to see Bob.’

She hesitated, looking round at me, the glass to her lips.

I held her gaze, stared back. ‘Do this for me, Mom. Just for once, do something for me.’

She took two gulps, shuddering slightly at the strength of it. At last she said, ‘Oh well – all right then.’

I’d never been on the roof at Broadbent’s before, but anyone could see it’d been transformed. A group of volunteers had stayed on after work the night before to make the place ready, and considering the drabness of a smoke-stained factory roof, they’d performed a miracle. It was surrounded on three sides by a brick parapet, and the fourth abutted a tall, thin building, higher than Broadbent’s, occupied by Cobham’s, a firm of tool-makers. So there was a blank wall facing us, only broken by a couple of filthy air vents. Across that they’d fixed old sheets made into a banner, painted in red and blue letters on the white, which read ‘Showtime at Broad-bent’s – 1940’.

There were already a good number gathering up there. I looked round with our nan, Lil and Mom (no Len – the pull of Molly was even stronger than that of a sing-song) and the kids, who thought being right up there was the best thing ever. I lifted Cathleen up and we looked across at the roofs of factories and houses, some below so we could see all their loose tiles, others on the same sort of level. You could see the spire at St Martin’s in the Bull Ring, and Cathleen pointed at the shining barrage balloons which seemed so much nearer from up here.

‘Don’t think I’ve ever been this high up before,’ Nan said, still breathless from all the stairs.

Mom looked over the edge, dreamily. She was wearing a loose dress, sensitive about being seen to be pregnant, and she’d evidently decided to join in tonight, to play along.

They’d swept the tarred roof, which still felt spongy underfoot from the warm day, carried up trestle tables and what chairs and stools could be begged or borrowed, and arranged them in rows facing the wall and banner. Wonder of wonders, to one side, stood a piano.

‘We borrowed some muscles,’ Doris said, coming up to us. She said how excited she was to meet the family, Nan especially. ‘This is my ’usband, Ray.’ She indicated a massive bloke next to her, built like an all-in wrestler with the broken nose to match. In fact he was a boxer in his spare time. I had a strong feeling I’d seen him somewhere before. ‘Knew ’e’d come in ’andy some time,’ Doris laughed, and I could see our nan warming to her.

Doris admired Lil’s kids, picked up Cathleen and cuddled her as everyone did, with her pretty looks.

‘She’ll be another like Genie,’ she said. ‘Bet she gets away with murder with them big eyes.’ Cathleen stole the show at this point by putting her arms round Doris’s neck and squeezing her face against hers.

‘When’re we on then?’ Nan asked. She’d put her squeeze box down at the side of the piano.

‘You’ll be called,’ Doris said. ‘Ray ’ere’s our master of ceremonies for the evening. ’Ere Ray – get Mrs Rawson and ’er family a drink, will you?’

There were a couple of barrels of beer, courtesy of Mr Broadbent, and a whole assortment of cups and glasses on the table. We’d brought a few ourselves, as well as sandwiches to add to the collection.

‘Tizer for you kids?’ Ray said. As he was opening the bottle with a ‘swoosh’ noise, I couldn’t help myself keep looking round at the stairs, every time there was the movement of someone arriving. I knew that until the Broadbents were here the place wouldn’t feel complete.

Nancy came up with another girl who I thought looked like her sister. She was wearing a black dress with huge pink roses on and dashes of white in it, with a nipped waist. I saw Nan stare at her. ‘Is that that Nancy you were on about? Looks a bit of a hussy to me. And that’s a lower neckline than’s good for ’er – she could catch a cold down there.’

Some people had already sat down on the chairs and boxes and a few other kids had arrived, so Tom and Patsy were chasing round with them and Lil just let them get on with it. She’d gone over to the piano where Tony, one of the lads from the main factory, was tuning up on it, improvising, feeling his way into songs. He was good, had the touch, and Lil leaned with one arm against the top of the upright humming bits she recognized, winking down at him. He was such a young feller I could see he was dazzled by her, this gorgeous woman with red lips, raven hair and sequins on her dress. He stopped for a minute and they talked, then tried out the openings of some songs together. Not to be outdone, Mom went over with her tumbler of ale and joined in. I was proud of them both.

Please Mom, I thought, don’t drink too much tonight. Just don’t let me down.

I stood beside Nan, who’d taken a seat to rest her knee. A cheer went up as a trail of coloured bulbs which’d been strung across the top of the banner lit up, bright as boiled sweets although it was still golden daylight.

‘This is one show’ll have to be over by blackout time!’ Ray announced.

‘Let’s get on with it then!’ another voice shouted. ‘What’s all the hanging about for?’

More claps and cheers. The place was filling up and they were getting impatient. We all wanted to break the hard lines of ordinary days. We wanted to laugh, to sing and forget.

Mom and Lil came over, gathering up the kids, and stood by me and Nan, leaving the seats for other people. As the piano struck up again Nan turned to me. ‘You look very nice tonight, Genie.’

I had to bend my head to hear her and smile. ‘Ta Nan.’ I had on the polka dot dress Mom’d put together, with its little scarf and I’d curled the ends of my hair and pinned it so it hung nicely round my ears.

Ray, Doris’s husband, looked more the type to be handy with his fists than his wit but he stepped forward to do his bit as Master of Ceremonies and erupted into a patter that took us all by surprise and soon had everyone laughing and cheering.

Nan leaned over to me. ‘I knew I knew that feller’s face. Used to work the Bull Ring, selling crocks or summat. Haven’t seen him in a while.’

When she said that, I remembered him too. ‘He’s on munitions now.’

‘And our first number tonight,’ he was shouting in his gravelly voice, trying to beat the catcalls and whistles. ‘I tell yer, if yer don’t settle down you lot, there won’t be time for any bleeding show!’

More cheers and raucous laughter but the message seemed to have sunk in. Gradually they got settled down. But when I looked round I saw Mr Broadbent arrive at the top of the stairs, a woman behind him I’d never seen before, blonde, with sharp, rather haughty features.

‘That them?’ Mom whispered to me.

I nodded. ‘She must be one of the daughters.’

Behind me I heard a voice say, ‘I s’pect Mrs B’s got the other sister at her beck and call at home.’

In the front row people were standing and shuffling along as Ray commanded, ‘Make room now, ladies and gents, make room there.’

As they moved to the front I saw the one thing that I needed to see before whipping my head round to the front so it wouldn’t be obvious I was staring. Joe was following behind them. He was here. My heart answered, speeding up.

Mr Broadbent senior and the daughter accepted seats in the front row, she looking like a chilly-eyed cat and Mr B with smiles to each side.

‘Another space here!’ someone called in a voice that sounded decidedly like Nancy’s.

‘That’s all right,’ Joe’s voice came from close behind me. ‘I’m happy to stand, thanks.’

My skin was up in goosepimples, knowing how close he was to me. As Tony struck up on the piano again I found courage and turned round.

‘Hello again, Genie. OK if I stand here?’

‘Course. Can you see over my head?’

He gave a laugh. ‘With plenty to spare.’

The first person on stage was one of the main factory workers called Dick. ‘This is Dick Busby,’ he kicked off, ‘talking to you from a munitions factory somewhere in the Midlands,’ which earned him a clap before he’d even got started on his string of corny jokes, trying to sound like Arthur Askey. He told them pretty well in fact and bowed himself off.

Then it was Joan’s turn. She was plump, middle aged, apple cheeked, and waddled forward with a length of white string, an empty milk bottle and a deadpan face, and proceeded to perform a series of antics. After a few minutes of this there wasn’t a person in the audience who wasn’t laughing until they ached and not one of us could have explained why. I could hear Joe behind me and after a few more manoeuvres from Joan we were all helpless with it. Eventually she gave a sniff as if we were all completely beyond her in our stupidity, wound up the string, picked up the bottle and marched off to the loudest possible applause.

‘By special request from our pianist here, we’re now going to ’ave a song. I’d like to call upon Mrs Lilian Heaney!’

Lil went up to the front wearing a blush that only made her look more ravishing than ever. The silky green dress she wore hugged her lithe figure, its sequins winking in the sunlight. She’d pinned a dark crimson rose behind her left ear and stood swaying to the rhythm of the piano. She sang a couple of Cole Porter numbers. After the first one, into which she poured all the longing of her own sad heart, because that was the gift she had, I felt Joe’s breath on my ear.

‘She’s a real find, isn’t she? Who is it?’

As I was turning to answer he moved forwards into Lil’s place.

‘That’s my auntie Lil.’

‘Your aunt?’ He looked at me, then back at her. ‘She’s got real talent.’

I smiled, pleased for Lil as her rich voice poured out over the Birmingham rooftops and her fairytale face to go with it cast spells in people’s mind. The clapping was at least as loud as for Joan with her bottle and string. Joe moved respectfully out of the way when she came back to us. I saw Mom whisper something to Lil.

There were more jokes, some told to laughs, others to groans, while helpings of ale were passed round and we polished off the last of the sandwiches. Poems, some politer than others. The pianist played dance music on his own. Nancy got up, eyes fixed on Joe, to do a gypsy dance which went off a bit half cock but could’ve been worse. Just about. She gave me a filthy scowl as she flounced back to her seat to not exactly rapturous applause.

‘We ’ave some guest performers here tonight. We can’t give you the Andrews Sisters from Hollywood but we do ’ave our very own Andrews Sisters of Balsall Heath! Let’s hear it for Doreen, Lil and Genie and their accompanist, the much esteemed Edith Rawson!’ He put his hands together and led the applause and we went to the front, Nan carrying her stool. She settled herself on it with the accordion, arms through the straps.

Lil, Mom and I arranged ourselves round behind her and Lil did the introductions.

‘We’ve got a number of songs for you tonight—’ This was interrupted by clapping. They were all getting pretty merry out there, and this was a special night. They were going to milk every second of enjoyment out of it before the dreary return to the factory.

We started off with sing-along numbers like ‘Knees up Mother Brown’ and ‘The Lambeth Walk’ and everyone joined in at the top of their voices, stamping and clapping. We spun ‘The Lambeth Walk’ on faster and faster until we were all falling over ourselves with the words and laughing and Nanny Rawson’s fingers were a blur on the keys of the squeeze box, her right foot madly tapping the rhythm. It was going fine. The whole evening had gone well and I knew I had wings, lifting me specially, because Joe Broadbent had stood behind me all the way through. He’d sought me out. I saw him watching the four of us, all so colourful – Mom in red, Lil sea green, me blue and Nan also in a royal blue dress, all so different but with our voices blending. I saw Joe was smiling, singing along with everyone else. Please God, I thought, don’t let anything go wrong tonight . . . just this once.

After the rapturous end of the song Lil held up her hand to quieten them. ‘Right, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s time to settle down for summat more serious.’ There was a good-natured groan from out front. ‘We’re going to turn the tempo down now and turn our thoughts to –’ she drew the word out to raise a laugh, ‘lu-u-urve.’