The Melody Girls (3 page)

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Authors: Anne Douglas

BOOK: The Melody Girls
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All the same, when her name was called and she had to walk out on to the platform, it took all her courage to smile around the hall, pretend to be at ease, pretend, in fact as that girl had said, to be enjoying herself. And then there were the moments when she had to stand, still smiling, as Mr Dean introduced her and read out what she was going to play on her unaccompanied saxophone, a most unusual, but welcome choice, as he was sure everyone would agree.
‘A little Bach first, then a rhapsody by Eric Coates, and then something I expect Lorna thought we'd all know.' Mr Dean laughed a little. ‘“Red Sails in the Sunset”, a very pleasant tune.'
‘Ah,' murmured the audience, and Lorna, sensing their approval, felt a sudden surge of confidence and knew at once that it was going to be all right for her. And so it proved. She played better that evening than she'd ever dared to hope for, and though the applause for the Bach and the Eric Coates was muted, when she finished with “Red Sails in the Sunset”, after being accompanied by half the audience singing along, the clapping was so deafening, she almost felt like shedding a tear or two. She didn't of course, but waved and smiled to her mother and the rest of her supporters, while thinking with relief that no matter how well Hannah Maxwell played the ‘Minute Waltz', she couldn't possibly do any better.
And when Hannah appeared, looking paler than ever, and Mr Dean announced that she'd be playing Chopin, Schubert and Beethoven, Lorna was still very sure she'd got nothing to fear. Even when Hannah began to play and it was clear she was as good as Lorna had guessed, with a beautiful touch and solid technique, Lorna didn't allow herself to waver. Good pianists were, after all, not hard to find. There was nothing special about them, nothing different, which was why Lorna had decided against playing the piano herself. Her sax would carry the day, she was sure of it, and in the interval, so many people – apart from her family – were congratulating her, she felt she was walking on air.
Until, at the end of the contest, after the judges had deliberated in the now empty back room and had appeared to give their verdict, for the first time she felt doubt. Glancing at Hannah, who was trembling beside her, and then at the rest of the entrants, it came to her that she had been far too confident. Worse, big-headed. Why, any of these could win! The tenor, the singers, the fiddle players, or, of course, Hannah. What had possessed her to think her sax would single her out?
But when the local conductor stepped forward to speak on behalf of the judges, Lorna couldn't help herself. She still thought, maybe . . . maybe she had won.
First, of course, there had to come the nice words about all the entrants, to make them feel better over losing. Such a high standard . . . everyone deserving of a prize . . . particularly liked . . . there was the tenor's name . . . and, oh no, her own! Too soon, if she was going to win. Oh, too soon!
And, yes, that was right, for here came the final announcement. By unanimous decision, for her professionalism, her sensitivity, and her most talented piano playing, the winner was . . .
‘Hannah Maxwell!'
Everything after that was a blur, as the bitterness sank in. Even when Lorna's name was called as runner-up and she had to go up to the judges with Anthony Baird who'd taken third place, she felt quite unreal. Perhaps he did, too, for his grin was forced as he accepted his prize of three pounds and later congratulated Lorna on her five.
‘No' bad, eh? Better than nothing.'
‘I'll say,' she heard herself heartily agreeing. ‘It's more than twice my wages.'
‘But no' a chance to broadcast.'
‘That's only for Hannah.'
And then, of course, they joined in the congratulations being given to Hannah, now scarlet in the face and being embraced by her parents and a girl who might have been her sister, before turning away to be consoled by their own families.
‘Ah, pet, what a shame, eh!' Cissie was crying, and Tilly was just putting her arm around Lorna and Pattie was saying, well, never mind, five pounds was a fortune, eh? And Miss Dickinson was saying she'd been so thrilled by ‘Red Sails in the Sunset', and Ewen was declaring that Lorna should have won, and she was shaking her head and telling him to keep his voice down, when another voice cut through to her and she turned in surprise.
‘Miss Fernie – forgive me for interrupting – but could I have a word?'
A tall well-dressed man of about forty, carrying a hat and a raincoat over his arm, was standing at her elbow. He had dark hair that was mixed with grey and a sharp, dark gaze, and as her eyes went over him, the world for Lorna suddenly became real again. She had no idea who he was, but she knew somehow that he was important. Or, might be – to her.
‘Yes?' she asked, standing aside from people leaving, as her mother, Auntie Cissie, Ewen, Pattie and Miss Dickinson, all stood staring at the newcomer.
‘I'm Luke Riddell. From Glasgow. You may have heard of me? I have a dance band there. Luke Riddell's Orchestra?'
Five
He had a dance band?
Lorna's eyes on Mr Riddell were not just bright, but starry. He had a dance band in Glasgow, and he'd asked to speak to her? Could it mean anything? Such as what? Take a hold, she told herself, stop staring, stop thinking, say something!
But Mr Riddell's gaze had moved to Tilly, standing close to Cissie, both looking wary, though Cissie, Lorna could tell, was excited. She always loved the unexpected and to have this well-dressed stranger coming up to speak to Lorna was unexpected, all right. Tilly, though, just wanted to know what was going on and perhaps sensing this, Mr Riddell guessed correctly that she was Lorna's mother. Again apologizing for interrupting, he asked if Tilly was Mrs Fernie.
‘That's right,' Tilly admitted cautiously. ‘I'm Mrs Fernie.'
‘Well, then, I knew your husband. We met from time to time, as folk in the same line of business do, and I always admired his music making. I was very sorry to hear that he'd—'
‘Yes, he died last year,' Tilly said quickly. ‘But why did you want to speak to my daughter?'
‘I wanted to compliment her on her playing. In my opinion, she should have won.' Mr Riddell turned to Lorna. ‘When I heard your name announced, I guessed you were Cam Fernie's daughter, and when you took up that tenor sax of his – it was his, wasn't it? – I knew at once that you were going to be good. And might be what I'm looking for.'
‘Looking for?' Lorna repeated, swallowing hard.
‘What do you mean?' asked Tilly, as Cissie's eyes widened and a frown creased Ewen's brow.
‘Well, when I thought I'd look in on the contest – I happened to be in Edinburgh on business and somebody told me about it – I never expected to find a sax player. But the way things are, with some of my guys not coming back to the band after the war, I've got vacancies and one's for tenor sax.' Mr Riddell gave a brief smile. ‘And yes, I do take women in my band. I've got two already.'
‘Are you . . .?' Lorna began, then stopped. She couldn't put it into words, she couldn't say, as though it was something quite to be expected: ‘Are you offering me a job?' He was, though, offering her a job. She knew it. Just couldn't believe it.
‘We can't talk here,' Mr Riddell was saying quietly. ‘Perhaps you'll take my card, Miss Fernie? Discuss it with your mother, and then, if you're interested in playing with the band, give me a ring.'
‘Interested? I am interested, Mr Riddell.'
‘It's out of the question,' Tilly said, her voice shaking. ‘Lorna could never go to work for a band in Glasgow.'
‘That's right, she's got a job here,' Ewen declared. ‘In the post office.'
‘The post office?' Mr Riddell repeated.
‘I really think we should be going,' Miss Dickinson said abruptly. ‘Pattie, Ewen—'
‘I'm no' going anywhere.' Ewen's face was dark red. ‘Except with Lorna and her folks.'
‘We're all leaving now,' Cissie told him cheerily. ‘It's like Mr Riddell says, we can't talk here, anyway.'
‘Miss Fernie, I look forward to hearing from you,' the bandleader said smoothly. ‘And Mrs Fernie, please don't worry. Your daughter can talk it over with you and it can all be sorted out for the best. It's been very nice meeting you, and everyone.'
And having politely inclined his head and put on his hat and raincoat, Luke Riddell walked swiftly from the emptying hall.
‘Well!' Cissie exclaimed, laughing a little. ‘Talk about a surprise, eh? Imagine a guy like him coming up to speak to Lorna, then! And he knew Cam, and all!'
‘Let's just get home,' Tilly said shortly. ‘We're going to be the last out at this rate.'
‘Aye, we'll be sweeping the floor, next,' Ewen said glumly, his eyes fixed on Lorna, who in fact was incapable of seeing him, or anything, except what was in her own mind.
‘I'm away for my tram,' Miss Dickinson murmured, her eyes, too, fixed on Lorna. ‘Pattie, I think you're going my way?'
‘Yes, Miss Dickinson.'
‘Ewen?'
‘I'm going back with Lorna.'
‘Right. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then. And Lorna, be sure to do as Mr Riddell said, my dear. Discuss everything with your mother, that's always best. We wouldn't want you to . . . get carried away.'
‘Don't worry, we'll discuss it, all right,' Tilly said coldly.
Only Cissie kept up a stream of chatter on the tram going home, with Tilly and Ewen keeping a stern silence and Lorna still lost in her own thoughts. Back at the flat, however, Tilly managed to be polite and asked Ewen in for a cup of tea, and a slice of cake. Yes, she'd managed to get a Dundee cake from the Stores, wonders would never cease.
‘Probably be dry as dust, but seeing as I've no eggs left, there's no baking for me, eh? Come on in, anyway.'
‘Thanks, Mrs Fernie, it's nice of you to ask me, but I think I'd better get off home. You and Lorna, you've things to talk over.'
‘If you're sure, now? Come some other time, then. You're always welcome.'
As he murmured his thanks again, Ewen's gaze rested on Lorna. ‘You'll no' rush into anything?' he asked in a low voice. ‘You'll think about what's best?'
Focusing her eyes on him at last, Lorna gave a radiant smile. ‘Of course I'll do what's best, Ewen. No need to worry about that.'
‘No need at all,' her mother said with meaning, and as Ewen touched his cap and slowly left them, the three women went into the flat and busied themselves making tea.
‘Doesn't it seem a long time ago since we were last sitting at this table?' Lorna asked, avoiding her mother's eye. ‘So much has happened, eh?'
‘You won a lovely big five pound note for a start,' Cissie remarked, studying her cake as though to decide on its dryness. ‘A very nice consolation prize, I'd say. You going to put it into your post office savings tomorrow?'
‘Haven't thought. Probably.'
‘Let's stop beating about the bush, Lorna, and get the talking out of the way,' Tilly said sharply. ‘Won't take long, seeing as you know what I've got to say.'
‘Oh, Ma, you're never going to try to stop me going to Glasgow, are you?' Lorna asked, setting down her cup. ‘You know it's all I've ever wanted, and seeing Mr Riddell this evening, it was like the answer to a prayer.'
‘We were supposed to be having a discussion, Lorna. That's what Mr Riddell said himself. Talk it over with your mother, he said. Nothing about making up your mind without a minute's thought!'
‘How can you say I'm going to do that?' Lorna cried, her cheeks pink, her blue eyes flashing. ‘I've done nothing else but think about being in a band for ages!'
‘Aye, this is Mr Riddell's band we're talking about. I can tell you're planning to go over to Glasgow and take whatever's going.'
‘Let's leave the lassie to think about it, Till,' Cissie put in quickly. ‘If you go on about it now, you'll only make things worse.'
‘I've a right to say what I think, Cissie. I've a right to stop my daughter making an awful mistake.'
‘All Ma wants is for me to keep on at the post office and then get married to Ewen,' Lorna said bitterly. ‘That'd be the mistake, that would.'
‘See the way her mind works?' Tilly cried to Cissie, suddenly bursting into tears. Shaking her head, she fixed her eyes on Lorna. ‘Of course I want you to marry Ewen, Lorna! What mother wouldn't want to see her daughter settled, instead of going off to Glasgow to play in a band!'
‘Oh, Ma!' Lorna left her chair and ran to put her arms round her mother's shoulders. ‘Don't cry! I'll be settled one day, but for now, I just want to have a go at what I really want to do. I'm like Dad, that's all. I want what he wanted, eh? If I'd been a laddie, you'd never have said a word, would you?'
‘Thing is, you're no' a laddie,' Tilly sighed, wiping her eyes. ‘And what's this Mr Riddell really like, I'm wondering. Your dad was never a special friend of his, as I remember.'
‘If they only met now and again, he wouldn't have had the chance to be his friend,' Cissie remarked. ‘I must say, I thought Mr Riddell seemed very nice. Very gentlemanly.'
‘I thought so, too,' Lorna said eagerly. ‘And did you hear him say he already had two girls in the band? When other bandleaders don't want any!'
‘So, you'll be hoping to be number three.' Her mother sighed. ‘I wish you'd think what it'll mean, Lorna, if you do take a job with him. Remember, you'll have to live in Glasgow, you'll be working too late at night to come home.'

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