The Melody Girls (10 page)

‘It's important to all of us,' Flo snapped. ‘But we aren't driving everybody mad because of it.'

‘Ah, but he's the bandleader,' George reminded her. ‘He gets the kudos if we're a success, he carries the can if we're not.'

‘Well, thank God, the whole thing will soon be over,' Josh put in. ‘Then we can relax.'

‘When we go on tour?' Flo asked with raised eyebrows. ‘Are you serious?'

Lorna was saying nothing, thinking only of the broadcast ahead. Like everyone else, she was on edge, yet so consumed by excitement, she seemed able to put her nerves aside. This was an experience she had looked forward to for so long, she wasn't going to let anything spoil it.

Arriving early for the brief warm-up before they went on air, she looked around, as she so often did, for Rod – not to talk to, just to see how he was looking. She found his eyes, as they so often were, fixed upon her. She smiled a little. He smiled back. But they did not speak.

In fact, after the producer had finished telling everybody what to expect, it was Luke who was doing most of the talking, walking round, reminding everybody of things they already knew, even tweaking people's jackets, as though they were going to be seen, which was absurd.

‘I feel like telling him, this is the wireless we're on, Luke, not the films!' Ina whispered, nudging Lorna's arm. ‘Will you just look at him with Suzie? He's more like a fashion plate than she is!'

‘Talk about a peacock,' Dickie Tarrant commented. ‘Just hope he doesn't forget where he is and shout at us if we get something wrong'

But all fell silent as the producer showed them into the studio to take their places. The clock showed it was time. They were on air.

Somebody was introducing them: ‘Tonight we have one of Scotland's best known dance bands – Luke Riddell's Orchestra – playing to you from the BBC. And here is Luke himself, to tell you something of the programme. Ladies and gentlemen – Luke Riddell!'

‘Good evening, everyone,' came Luke's especially smooth tones. ‘Can't tell you how much pleasure it gives my band and me to be playing to you this evening, and we hope you'll enjoy the music we've chosen for you. A medley of old and new, beginning with that catchy number, “On the Sunny Side of the Street”, followed by “Anything Goes”, “I'll Be Seeing You”, and that old favourite, “Harbour Lights”.

And then Luke was turning to the band, raising his stick, beating them in, and at last, long last, they were off. Nerves forgotten, they played their best, Suzie sang her best, Luke introduced more numbers, and the time flew by so fast, before they knew it, he was at the microphone again, wrapping things up, telling everyone to tune in tomorrow for more music from Luke Riddell and his Orchestra! They were off air.

‘Well done!' cried the producer.

‘Well done,' Luke agreed, walking amongst his band as they were leaving the studio. ‘Just one or two wobbles – nothing to speak of – very good on the whole.'

‘What wobbles?' asked Josh. ‘If you ask me, we've never played so well.'

‘I agree,' the lead trumpeter, Bob Kenny said truculently. ‘If you've found anything wrong, just spit it out, Luke.'

‘He hasn't found anything wrong,' Suzie declared. ‘We were all perfect. Now, let's get going. We've another show to do tonight, remember.'

‘Oh, no!' people began wailing, as they prepared to face the January night. ‘We've still to play at the Atholl!'

‘Don't tell me you've forgotten,' Luke said grimly.

Having observed everything and soaked up her new experiences like a sponge, Lorna hurried home with Flo, her thoughts now with the mainly unknown audience who might have heard her play that evening. Only as a part of the band, of course, not in a solo spot – that honour had gone to Josh, as was only to be expected, he being lead tenor sax. But still part of the Luke Riddell sound, which must have gone out to so many homes, so many folk she would never know and yet could feel affinity with, simply through her instrument and the music it played.

‘Enjoy it?' asked Flo. ‘Did it come up to expectations?'

‘Oh, yes. Yes it did!'

‘Well, don't take too long getting ready now. We haven't got a lot of time.'

‘Don't I know it!' Lorna answered, rushing to wash and change and put on the kettle. But when she was almost ready, just brushing her hair, she couldn't believe how quick Flo had been, knocking at her door.

‘Come in, Flo!' she called. ‘Door's not locked!'

But it wasn't Flo at the door, it was Rod.

Eighteen

Snow was covering his overcoat and melting from his hair as he stood in her doorway, gazing at Lorna.

‘OK to come in?' he asked huskily.

She had risen from her chair, putting down her brush, and for a moment did not speak. Was she just surprised to see him? Or, not surprised at all? Had she always known that some time, in spite of all her efforts to stand aloof, he would come to her? Anyway, she finally nodded and he took a step towards her.

‘A fellow coming out let me in your main door. I told him I was from the band, come to collect you.'

‘I see.'

‘He saw my trumpet case.' Rod showed it, with a smile, then set it down. ‘Must have believed me.'

‘Are you collecting us?'

‘Well, it's snowing – I thought for once we'd share a taxi.' He was very close to her now, close enough to touch her, but staying still, keeping his eyes upon her. ‘I see you've already changed. So have I. Into my awful blue jacket.'

‘You look nice in that blue jacket.'

‘Not half as nice you look in your blue dress.'

‘Got my old cardigan over it for now.' She laughed uneasily. ‘No' so warm in here.'

‘Believe me, you look beautiful. But here am I, covering everything in snow.'

Unbuttoning his overcoat, he let it fall and after a long moment of silence, put out his arms to her and, still in silence, she went to him. It seemed right, it seemed natural; something they could not deny themselves, and for some time they stayed together, letting the feeling wash over them that some great step had been taken, that nothing would be the same for them again. Then they kissed, and kissed again, ecstatically, until Rod drew away, holding Lorna from him so that he could look into her eyes.

‘Oh, God, Lorna,' he said in a low voice, ‘why have you been running from me? What makes you so afraid?'

‘I wasn't afraid, Rod. Well, not of you. I just – I felt it was too soon.'

‘What was?'

‘Oh, you know – to be having a relationship. I'm just starting out on what I want to do. I didn't want . . . to be serious.'

‘You thought you could choose?' Rod smiled and held her close again. ‘Lorna, darling, you can't choose to be serious or not serious. You can't choose to love or not love. It happens, that's all. And it's happened to us.'

‘We can't be sure, Rod. Folk often think they love someone, and then they find it wasn't real.'

‘Mine is real. Yours is real. Lorna, promise – you won't run from me again?'

Her lips parted, she was ready to speak, when another knock came at her door.

‘Lorna, are you ready?' came Flo's voice. ‘It's snowing, so I've booked a taxi.'

‘I'm ready!' Lorna called back, hurriedly giving Rod his coat and running to open the door. ‘Flo, look who's here! Rod had the same idea as you – he wanted us to take a taxi.'

‘Well, well, Rod, eh?' Flo, in heavy coat and gloves, with a scarf wound round her head, looked at Rod and smiled a little smile. ‘Nice, we're all going in together then. The taxi's due in five minutes, so we may as well go down to wait for it.'

‘May as well,' they agreed.

There it was, the taxi, waiting; headlights blurring in the whirling snow, the driver reluctantly climbing out to open his doors.

‘I'll be pig in the middle!' Flo cried, making Lorna go before her, so that she could sit between her and Rod, and looking from one to the other in the gloom of the interior, her eyes sparkling.

Oh, Flo, you tease, Lorna thought. She knows, doesn't she?

But trying to separate herself and Rod, the way they felt at that moment, was pointless. Each was so conscious of the other, so dwelling on every look, every movement, Flo might just as well not have been there.

It was only when, as usual, she was absorbed into the music at the Atholl Rooms, that Lorna's thoughts moved away from Rod, but they returned in full force at the intermission, only to be kept hidden when Ina came up to join them for coffee.

‘Just making sure you don't forget the time,' she cheerfully announced, but at the look on Rod's face, hastily added, ‘only joking, of course!' and asked if they were going for a drink later. ‘I thought I might, if the boys don't get too noisy.'

Rod's eyes met Lorna's. A drink with the boys? They'd rather be on their own. Separately, they came to the same conclusion, though. Better not push it, eh? Better not cause talk at this early stage. What had happened between them that evening was their secret, something to be held close and marvelled at, not revealed too early.

‘I think I might go along,' Lorna said carefully.

‘I might, too.' Rod cheerfully finished his coffee. ‘Hey, isn't it time we were on our way?'

All three were the first back on the stand, except for Luke, who graciously inclined his head at them and said, ‘Well done!'

Nineteen

In the time following that first broadcast, Lorna thought she'd never been so happy. Everything in her life seemed to be combining to give her what she wanted – well, perhaps not quite all, for she and Rod were having to be very careful. Not only to keep their new-found love a secret from the band and sharp-eyed Luke, but also to keep within the limits they'd set themselves. No sex, then, but love-making as near as they could get to it without taking risks. Risks Lorna never put into words but which Rod perfectly understood.

‘Need the ring on the finger?' he asked once, lying with her in the battered armchair of her bed sitter, having taken her hand and kissed it. ‘How about I get one?'

She had hesitated. Engagement, marriage: they represented huge changes for which she wasn't quite sure she was ready. Though she knew she and Rod were truly in love, the path ahead wasn't as straightforward as it might be. Commitment was involved, and she'd already made a commitment to her career. How would it work out to have two commitments? That was the question she had to answer.

‘You're thinking you're too young?' Rod had asked quietly, but she'd shaken her head.

‘I'm twenty–one now – loads of women marry at that age.'

‘But you're not ready?'

She shrugged. ‘We could maybe wait a while?'

‘Fine. Just as long as you don't desert me.'

‘As though I would!' she'd cried and the discussion ended in passionate embraces until it was time to get ready for their evening booking.

With the ending of Luke's dance hall contracts and the blustery arrival of March, came the time to begin preparing for the tour. There were low-voiced grumbles from certain members of the band.

‘If we have to go on tour, why not somewhere abroad?' asked Bob Kenny. ‘Somewhere warm?'

‘Good idea,' voices agreed, until Josh reminded them that foreign travel was still much restricted, unless you were entertaining the troops somewhere.

‘Could do that,' Dickie Tarrant said with enthusiasm. ‘Could go to Germany, maybe. Let's suggest it to Luke.'

But no one volunteered to do that, Luke being well known for not accepting suggestions from anybody.

‘While we're talking about suggestions,' Flo murmured to Lorna, ‘mind if I make one to you? Don't let Rod sit next to you on the tour coach too often. I think Luke is watching you more than you realize.'

‘You really mean he'd tell us we shouldn't be together?'

‘You know he would. Haven't I said he doesn't approve of love affairs between people in the band? And he's no' the only one.'

‘Can he honestly say we don't play as well because of our feelings for each other?' Lorna cried angrily. ‘As soon as I pick up my sax, that's all I'm thinking about, and Rod's the same with his trumpet. I'll tell Luke that, if he says anything to me!'

‘Be careful, then. Remember, he's the boss.'

Lorna hesitated, looking at Flo's strong thin face ‘If Luke knows about us, I suppose other people do?'

‘Only Ina and me. I don't think the men have noticed anything yet, but might when we're all together on that coach. Better watch your step, eh?'

‘I do get tired of doing that,' Lorna admitted. ‘But I'm still looking forward to going on tour. I mean, it has to be interesting, seeing different places and new audiences, hasn't it?'

‘Are you joking? First, the coach will be freezing. Likewise, the digs. Likewise, the halls. Probably the food, too.'

‘Have you actually been touring?' Lorna asked, laughing, and Flo shrugged and laughed herself.

‘No, I'm just going on what folk tell me.'

‘Well, this one might be different.'

‘Ah, you're thinking of spending more time with your Rod, eh? Just remember what I said, though. Watch your step.'

Twenty

Kilmarnock, Ayr, Peebles, Moffat, Dumfries, Carlisle, Alnwick, Berwick-upon-Tweed . . . Just names on the map to Lorna, until on a bleak March day, the band set off on its travels.