The Melody Girls (7 page)

‘Sure she did. But, Luke, I take it I'm still on for my solo tonight? You didn't ask me to rehearse it.'

‘I'm not sure, Josh. Suzie wants to put in an extra number tonight.'

‘Suzie does?' Josh's brow was like a thundercloud. ‘She doesn't need an extra number, does she?'

‘You're telling me what my wife needs?' Luke asked icily. ‘Who's leading this band, Josh, you or me?'

‘OK, forget my solo tonight. Sorry I spoke.'

‘I'm sorry you did, too. You're not the only tenor sax around, Josh.'

‘And you're not the only bandleader!'

A frozen silence descended on the band, as Josh and Luke seemed to be attempting to outstare each other, and then, as quickly as the row had blown up, it died down, and Luke clapped Josh on the back.

‘What the hell are we arguing about?' he asked. ‘You know your solos are a star turn, Josh. Would I want to lose them?'

‘So, I play one tonight?' Josh asked quickly.

‘Make it next week,' Luke told him easily. ‘I sort of promised Suzie her extra spot tonight. You understand?'

‘As long as I do get to play it next week.'

‘No question.'

A long whistling sigh ran round the band as the tension faded, and as Luke and Josh walked away together, Rod appeared at Lorna's side, brows raised, eyes dancing.

‘Oh, oh,' he whispered. ‘Now you've soon seen us kids at play, eh? But don't worry about it. You did well just now – that's what matters.'

Lorna, still looking apprehensive, managed a smile. ‘Nice of you to say so. I feel it's good I've broken the ice.'

‘And there's always plenty of that,' said Flo, joining them. ‘Come on, Lorna. We've just got time to get home, get changed and grab a bite to eat before we head out. No rest for the wicked they say.'

‘I don't need any rest,' Lorna said at once, though it suddenly came to her that her real test with the band still lay ahead, playing that evening at the Atholl Rooms. Not so much a grand ballroom, but a lovely, friendly venue, Ina told her. And peaceful, too.

‘What she means is, nobody fights,' Flo remarked, smiling wryly. ‘Unlike some dance halls. Where we don't play, let me add.'

‘No, really, you'll be all right there, Lorna,' Ina said encouragingly. ‘Just the place to start.'

With real dancers, Lorna thought. Would they notice if she made any mistakes? Maybe not, but Luke would. And so would Josh. If he'd got over his little spat with the bandleader.

‘Come on, don't look so worried,' Rod whispered. ‘No need to be nervous at the Atholl.'

‘I'm no' nervous!' Lorna cried. ‘Well, just a bit.'

Twelve

The Atholl Rooms were in a part of Glasgow unknown to Lorna, and not one that seemed the likely home of a dance hall. On a wet night in December, in a street of converted office blocks and dark tenements, the tall building that was the band's destination seemed quite uninviting.

Yet when the doors folded back and Lorna, clutching her raincoat around her shoulders, followed Flo inside, she was surprised to see a fine, spacious dance floor, well lit and warm, with chairs and a stand, known as a platform by the band, and Luke's name in large letters on a banner twisted high.

‘Luke Riddell and His Orchestra' it read, and below it, arms outstretched amongst the players arriving, stood Luke himself and Suzie, his wife, the vocalist.

‘Come in, come in,' Luke cried, in his most cheerful tones. ‘Nasty night, eh? But won't put anybody off, I can guarantee it. Lorna, meet my wife, Suzie. Suzie, meet our new tenor sax.'

‘Delighted!' cried Suzie, moving forward to take Lorna's hand. ‘Oh, what a pleasure to have another girl around! I keep telling Luke, that's what folk want, to look at pretty girls, not guys in jackets!'

‘As though anybody looks at the band anyway,' someone said, but though Luke turned his head sharply, he couldn't see who it was, and Suzie only laughed her singer's melodious laugh. Because, thought Lorna, she would know very well that if people didn't look at the band, they would certainly look at her.

Blonde, with scarlet lips and round brown eyes, she was just the sort of woman who would always be looked at, especially when poured into a slinky black dress, with chunky beads at her throat, bangles glittering on her narrow wrists, and dark red polish on her fingernails. She was everyone's image of a vocalist, and whether she could sing or not, wouldn't really matter. Except that Luke would probably want a vocalist who could sing, as well as look like Suzie, he being a perfectionist.

And at that thought, Lorna began to feel worried again and instinctively looked round for Rod, who obligingly came up to her.

‘Why, Lorna!' he cried, taking in her mother's carefully stitched dark blue dress that showed off her delicate colouring and the flame of her auburn hair, ‘you look terrific!'

‘Do I?' She looked towards the clock that showed only a few minutes to the opening of the hall. ‘I'm beginning to feel a bit wobbly.'

‘Wobbly? In that dress and with your gorgeous hair, you're going to knock 'em dead!'

‘Gorgeous hair?' Her smile vanished. ‘I'm hoping folk will like my playing, rather than my hair.'

‘Ah, come on, it's just a compliment. Don't take it the wrong way.'

‘Why do men always concentrate on what women look like?'

‘You mean you mind?'

‘When I play the same as they do, I mind.'

‘Well, here's something else to think about. If Josh doesn't turn up, you might end up lead tenor on your first outing playing for a dance.'

‘Oh, no!' Her eyes widening, she looked at once for any sign of Josh, half hoping he would come, half hoping he wouldn't. Lead tenor sax! Why not? Then she laughed inwardly at herself, as Josh came sauntering up to take his seat next to her. As though she could be lead tenor sax!

‘All right, Josh?' George, the lead alto, called, at which Josh looked down his fine nose and shrugged.

‘Sure, why shouldn't I be?'

‘Just wondered,' George said with a grin.

‘See you at the intermission,' Rod whispered to Lorna. ‘We'll have a drink, eh?'

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the hall doors which were now opening to admit the evening's dancers, young men in suits, with slicked back hair, and girls in short skirts and high-heeled shoes, noting that immediately the atmosphere was changing. They might be here to dance, but these young people were an audience, and playing with an audience was always different to playing without. As excitement began to exert its grip again and the band members took their seats, Josh bent his head towards Lorna.

‘All set? You remember we're starting with “I'll Get By”?

‘Yes, thanks,' she murmured, thinking that his words were the first sign of his being helpful. Never mind, she was grateful, anyway. ‘I remember.'

‘Luke's going to beat us in. Ready?'

‘Oh, yes!'

And there was Luke, elegant in his formal evening clothes, standing up in front of his band, the only one that Lorna could now see, or needed to see, as the dancers took their partners, the lights went low, and the music began.

Her first true test of playing with the band was upon her, and though her concentration had to be focused on her own part, suddenly into her mind came the face of her father. He'd always said she'd never play in a band, yet somehow he must always have known that she could, and perhaps in the future, would, or why would he have taken so much trouble training her?

Oh, Dad, she murmured silently, be pleased for me, be proud.

But as the first number ended, with clapping from the dancers and Josh actually smiling, there was, of course, no way of knowing how her dad would have felt. If only he hadn't had that heart attack. If only she could have asked him to come and hear her play. He would have been proud, she told herself, and believed it.

Thirteen

Foxtrots, quicksteps, modern waltzes, old time waltzes, tangos, even a rumba for the brave-hearted; the music rolled on effortlessly until Suzie came on to sing ‘All of Me' and, as usual, according to an aside from Josh, stopped the show. The combination of her looks and her voice, which was in fact, very attractive, was too much for the young folk, who kept calling her back until she'd agreed to sing more numbers, and only let her go when she waved her arms, smiling widely, and said she'd be along later. Which was the signal for Luke to produce his own smile and announce the intermission.

‘Thank God for that,' the band muttered, claiming they were dying of thirst, but when Rod came up to Lorna, she said she'd like a coffee, if there was any to be had.

‘Sure there is. You can get coffee or tea at the bar.' Rod laughed. ‘Must admit, this'll be the first time I've had coffee here.'

‘You'd rather have alcohol, I suppose?'

‘In moderation. I'm not a great drinker. See too much of it.'

‘Occupational hazard, my dad used to call it.'

‘He was right about that.'

After they'd found somewhere to sit with their coffee in the bar, they exchanged glances, each taking pleasure in the little interlude.

‘Mind if I speak of it, but are you really partly American?' Lorna asked, stirring her coffee which was so weak, it looked as if it needed help. ‘Sometimes, I think I can hear the accent in your voice – other times, you sound quite Scottish.'

‘Border Scots,' he answered readily. ‘But yes, I'm half and half. My dad's American.'

‘Exciting.'

‘I don't know about that. My mother was a Scottish nurse working in the south of England when my father came over in the First World War. They married and after the war, he took her back to Los Angeles, where my brother and I were born. But things didn't work out.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be prying . . .'

‘No, no.' Rod put his hand over hers. ‘I don't mind talking about it. All settled years ago, quite amicably. Mother came back home to the Borders when I was ten and Leland was eight and she's been there ever since.'

‘Where did the music come from?' Lorna asked softly, looking down at Rod's hand which he at last withdrew from hers. ‘I mean, for you?'

‘No idea. No one else in the family was interested, but as soon as I heard my first trumpet, that was it, I was sold. Took lessons and when the war came and I joined up, I played for army dos whenever I could.' Rod shook his head. ‘Not that there was much music around at El Alamein, for instance.'

‘And now you're with Luke Riddell. You happy, Rod?'

‘Sure. He's a great bandleader. Not keen to pay well, but I get by. Got a flat I share with a couple of office workers, see my mother when I can, and Leland in Perth – he's a trainee accountant.'

‘What about your father?'

‘Been too difficult to see him, though now the war's over he's asked us to go to the States. And one of these days, I plan to do that. Want to check out the music, get to hear some of the American big bands.' Rod finished his coffee. ‘But all this is about me, Lorna. What about you? I know you're from Edinburgh and your dad was with Jackie Craik. That must have given you a head start, eh? To have a father who played sax.'

‘Yes, it was wonderful.' Lorna smiled reminiscently. ‘We were very happy, Ma and Dad and me, though there should have been two boys, as well. They died very young.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Yes, well, Ma got over it, of course, but then Dad had his heart attack last year, so there was only me.' Lorna fixed Rod with an earnest gaze. ‘That's why I feel bad about leaving her, even though I'm only in Glasgow. I know she wishes I'd just get married and give up my sax, but I'll never give up my sax.'

‘Might get married, though. If there's anyone special?'

‘There's no one special. Ma thinks so, but I don't.'

‘You mean, there is someone?'

‘No. I just said.'

Rod glanced at his watch. ‘Better make sure we're not late back. Luke flies off the handle if anybody's late.'

‘Oh, quick, let's go.'

‘It's all right, not time yet. And you haven't finished telling me about yourself. I was wondering – didn't your father try to get you into Jackie's band, then?'

‘Jackie's band? No. Dad thought girls would never play in dance bands with men. Just said they weren't for the lassies.'

‘Guess he was thinking of the life. Can be tough.'

‘But we all make music, we should make it together. You agree, don't you?'

‘Let's say, I'm glad you're making music with me.'

Rod was laughing gently at himself, when he looked around the bar and suddenly his laughter died.

‘Oh, God, Lorna, everybody's gone! We'd better get moving. Back to the dance hall, quick!'

‘You said it wasn't time!' she cried, her heart thumping.

‘I know, I got it wrong. Come on, run!'

But though they did run to the dance hall, they were still too late. The dancers were all there, waiting. The band was on the stand, waiting. Worst of all, Luke was walking up and down, moving his stick from hand to hand, and he was waiting, too.

‘I'm sorry, Luke,' Rod said in a low voice as he leaped on to the stand. ‘It's my fault, I mistook the time. Lorna's not to blame.'

‘We're very sorry,' Lorna murmured, her scarlet face contrasting with Luke's furious pallor. Picking up her sax with a trembling hand, she took her place next to the impassive Josh, while Luke with a supreme effort at control, turned to the hall and smiled.