The Melody Girls (5 page)

‘Tea's up!' cried a thin, dark-haired young woman entering the office with a tray on which were two mugs of tea and a plate of biscuits. Attractive, with high cheekbones and hazel eyes, she gave Lorna a friendly smile, as she told them they'd got the last of the shortbread. ‘Who'd think the war was over, eh?'

‘Lorna, meet Flo Drover,' Mr Riddell said, taking a cup of tea. ‘Flo, Lorna's going to play for me when she's had her tea, so better shut the door, then we can't hear the racket from out there.'

‘Right you are,' Flo replied, with another smile, before going out and carefully closing the door behind her.

‘What would you like me to play?' Lorna asked, drinking her tea as fast as possible. ‘I've brought some music with me.'

‘Oh, we won't use yours, my dear. I've got something here I'd like you to try.' The bandleader smiled as he handed her a piece of sheet music. “September in the Rain” – a lovely melody, and a fine foxtrot. How's your sight reading?'

‘Not too bad,' she answered bravely, for though her father had given her practice, reading a piece of music at sight had never been one of her favourite things. She'd always felt annoyed when she made a mistake and would stop and try again, while Cam would be shouting, ‘Keep going, keep going!' Which of course, she'd be expected to do, if sight reading in a band. Now, why hadn't she thought Mr Riddell might give her this test, and done some preparation? Too late to think of that now.

As she picked up her instrument and prepared to play the music Mr Riddell had set on a stand for her, she remembered her own instructions. Head up, shoulders straight – here was a challenge, all right. But maybe not one she could meet.

Eight

Luck, however, was with her. As soon as she ran her eye over the music of ‘September in the Rain', Lorna could see that it wasn't too difficult, which gave her the confidence to think that her technique might see her through.

And so it proved. She breathed well, she made the right notes, she kept going, and the beautiful tone Mr Riddell so much admired did not desert her. In fact, by the end, she was almost enjoying herself, for the melody was the kind she liked – sweet, melancholy, ideally suited, in her view, to her instrument. And the fact that the bandleader was sitting broodingly listening, no longer mattered. Until she'd finished, of course, when she had to wait for his verdict.

‘Pretty good' he said at once, blandly meeting her anxious gaze. ‘Not perfect, but pretty good for somebody without band practice. You liked the melody, didn't you?'

‘Yes, I did.'

‘Always shows. Well, let's move on. You heard a fellow say just now that your dad was a good arranger. Somebody who could take a piece of music and score it for the band in the right way? You ever do anything of that kind, Lorna?'

‘No. My dad wouldn't have taught me.' She smiled faintly. ‘Never thought I'd have anything to do with a band.'

Mr Riddell's answering smile was broad. ‘That's why you think I'm an oddball because I have women in my band? I'm not the only one, you know. Oh yes, I can give you the names of one or two guys who took on the lassies. But it's not popular, I'll admit. Not popular at all.'

‘I think it's wonderful that you do,' she said earnestly, and he laughed.

‘Maybe. Just one more question, if you don't mind. I realize you've no band experience, but you probably know that most players at some time or other have to play solos. In fact, they like it. Like to have the spotlight. Maybe improvise, though I don't go for that too much. We're a dance band, not a jazz band. But, how d'you feel about solos, then? You'd like to take a turn?'

‘Oh, yes! I'd love to play solos!'

‘And you'd be good. I can say that because I've heard you already.' He gave her a long considering look. ‘So, I guess decision time has come. Would you like to join Luke Riddell and his Orchestra, Lorna?'

Her lips parted; for a moment she did not speak. ‘I would, Mr Riddell,' she said at last. ‘I'd like to, very much indeed.'

‘That's grand. I'm very glad to have you and I think you've made the right decision.'

He put out his hand and she shook it, hoping hers was not trembling, for she did feel rather strange. Excitement and relief seemed to be hitting her like strong drink – not that she'd had experience of that – and she knew she should try to appear calm and matter of fact, especially as there would be things to discuss.

Her wages, for one thing, and when she should start work. If she need only give a week's notice, perhaps in two weeks' time? No point in hanging about, eh? No, definitely not! Lorna couldn't wait to begin. So, what about the money, then? Not that her wages mattered, the job was all that was in her mind. Still euphoric, still feeling she should be trying to calm down, she waited for Mr Riddell to tell her how much he would be offering.

But when he did, she knew she needn't try any more to settle her floating head. The sum was like a splash of cold water in her face, instantly sobering, instantly bringing her back to earth.

‘Three pounds, ten?' she repeated. ‘Three pounds, ten shillings?'

‘More than you're getting now, I expect?' he asked easily.

‘But I live at home now, Mr Riddell. If I join the band, I won't be able to do that.'

‘True. I don't run a part-time band – we've too many engagements. You'd have to go into lodgings, but they're cheap enough.'

She looked at him worriedly. ‘But would I have enough left to live on?'

‘Lorna, how much did you expect? Your dad, of course, would be getting a good salary – he was very experienced. You've no experience at all. I'll have to teach you everything about being in a band, and while you're at that sort of stage, I really don't feel I can offer any more.'

‘I see,' she said blankly.

‘Maybe you don't realize how much the average wage is these days? I tell you, three pounds ten is good money for someone your age.'

The bandleader's tone was testy, his dark gaze cold, yet Lorna, in desperation, somehow found the courage to reinforce her point. ‘I don't care about making a lot of money, Mr Riddell. It's just that I have to be sure I can manage.'

He was silent for a moment, as though gathering patience, finally managing to produce an encouraging smile. ‘Tell you what, then, have a word with Flo Drover – the girl who brought us the tea.'

‘Flo Drover?' Lorna, gathering her belongings together, rose, as Mr Riddell jumped up and opened the door.

‘Yes, you can ask her about her lodgings. Well, I think it's a bedsit she has, but pretty cheap. There may be another one you could try for. And while you're with her, I'm going to tell her to explain what you should wear and what the rhythm section is for. You looked a bit blank when I asked you about it, didn't you?' As he held the door for her, Mr Riddell's smile had faded. ‘As I told you, Lorna, you have a lot to learn.'

Nine

Following Luke from his office, Lorna found herself hard put to know what she was feeling. Elated, that she'd been offered a job in a band? Yes, she should have been feeling that, for it was all she wanted, and in a way she did feel it. But then that little crossing of swords with the bandleader over her wages had rather spoiled things. Taken some of the gilt off the gingerbread, as the saying went. For she couldn't help wishing that he'd been more sympathetic to the point she was trying to make. Living at home on three pounds ten was one thing. Living away, was quite another.

Striding into the studio where the band had obviously made themselves at home, dumping cups and glasses all around, sending cigarette smoke rising like a forest fire to the ceiling, Luke was, to Lorna's surprise, in a jovial mood. Is he a weathercock? she wondered. Swinging every way, one minute, mad at her; the next, telling everybody to be delighted she'd be coming to work with them?

For that was his message, as he put his arm around her shoulder and called, ‘Hi, fellas – and young ladies! Come meet our new second tenor sax! Because I've given Lorna here a job and she starts two weeks on Saturday. Give her a big hand, then!'

There were a few claps, a few calls of ‘nice to have you', and certainly the two young women were all smiles, but for the most part the men only shrugged and raised their eyebrows, and one good-looking, dark-haired man seemed almost taken aback.

‘Josh Nevin,' Flo whispered, nearing Lorna in answer to Luke's beckoning finger. ‘You'll see a lot of him, you know, seeing as he's lead tenor sax. Thinks he's the tops.'

‘Now, now, Flo,' Luke remonstrated, shaking his head. ‘Remember, Josh is one of our stars. I'm going to introduce Lorna to him, soon as you've told her about your digs. Also what she should wear – you know the sort of thing – and what the rhythm section does.'

‘Oh, my, when do we get to the rehearsal?'

‘Aye, when?' asked the handsome Josh himself, strolling over and staring hard at Flo as though he'd guessed she'd been talking about him, before shaking hands with Lorna.

‘Congratulations, Miss Fernie, on getting into the band. I look forward to playing with you.'

‘Thank you,' she answered. ‘I'll be doing my best.'

‘Hey, what's got into you, coming over all formal?' asked a fair-haired young man with a trumpet, slapping Josh on the back. ‘Just give the new tenor sax a smile, eh?'

‘I am smiling!' Josh snapped, and as he moved away, followed by Luke who appeared to be trying to placate him, Flo touched Lorna's arm.

‘Take no notice, Josh'll settle down. He's seen your lovely hair and thinks folk will notice you instead of him. But he is good, he'll be a help to you.'

‘Just don't play his solos,' the fair young man warned, gazing himself at Lorna's striking hair, as Flo laughed and introduced him.

‘This here's our Roderick – as you can see, he's a trumpeter.'

‘Rod!' he corrected quickly. ‘Rod Warren. Only my mother calls me Roderick.'

‘Well, nobody at all calls me Florence!' Flo retorted. ‘But what's all this about the rhythm section, Lorna?'

‘Seems I should know about it,' Lorna replied. ‘I'm afraid I don't.'

‘Can't be expected to know everything before you start,' Rod Warren said kindly.

In fact, thought Lorna, he had a kind face. Not so obviously handsome perhaps as Josh, but undoubtedly attractive, with a wide smile that made his blue-grey eyes crinkle, and an ease of manner that made her feel welcome. At least, here was a man not sulking over her appointment. She gave him a warm smile.

‘The rhythm section in a band usually has a drum set, a guitar, string bass and piano,' Flo was explaining. ‘That tall guy over there is on drums, the one next to him is on bass, Ina at the piano is, guess what, the pianist, and yours truly is on guitar. The front players in a band carry the melody, but the rhythm section behind provides the beat. Very important, eh?'

‘Key,' put in Rod. ‘And also accompanies soloists. Oh, wait till you hear me, Lorna! The great Harry James has got nothing on me!'

‘That's enough blow from you,' Flo said with a laugh, ‘if you'll pardon the pun. Push off now, I have to tell Lorna about dresses and digs.'

‘Nice guy,' she murmured to Lorna, as Rod moved on. ‘Half American, you know. Me, I'm from Glasgow. Ina, come over a minute – what's your place like? Lorna has to find somewhere to live.'

‘My place? It's terrible!' Ina, small, fair-haired and freckled, smiled at Lorna. ‘A wee bed sitter, the cheapest I could find, and everything's shared and nothing works. Wouldn't recommend it, Lorna, but welcome to the band, anyway!'

‘Where I am sounds better than that,' Flo told Lorna. ‘Shall I ask about a vacancy? They charge fifteen bob a week, room only, no food. Any good?'

‘Sounds perfect!' Lorna cried, shaking hands with Flo. ‘Could you let me know, if I give you my address?'

‘Edinburgh, eh?' Flo grinned. ‘Oh, posh!'

‘Hey, I didn't say it was the New Town. But Flo, what did Mr Riddell mean about the clothes I'd have to wear? I've a couple of nice dresses – I thought they'd do.'

‘Are they short or long?'

‘Oh, short.' Lorna caught Flo's look. ‘No good?'

‘Well, Luke's very particular about what the band wears. He likes the girls to match the lads, so, we wear white in summer when they wear white dinner jackets, and in the winter when they switch to dark blue, then we wear dark blue, too. Dresses can be any style, but Luke prefers long. Likes the formal look, you see.'

‘And what'll all this cost? Supposing I can find a dress, anyway?'

‘No need to worry,' Flo said, looking embarrassed. ‘If you can't afford it at the time, Luke pays and takes the cash out of your wages.'

‘Now, why am I no' surprised to hear that? How many dresses will I need, then?'

‘Two, at least. In case one gets damaged, you know. Got any clothing coupons left?'

‘No, but if my mother can find the material, I might sweetheart her into running something up for me. She's a dressmaker.'

‘Wow, that's a bit of luck, eh?' Flo's brow cleared. ‘I was going to offer to lend you one, if all else failed, but looks like you'll be OK.'

‘As though I'd be able to get into one of yours!' Lorna laughed. ‘Thanks for the thought, anyway.'

‘I think we're going to start,' the bass player said in a low voice. ‘His Nibs is getting restless, better get in place. Lorna, hope you'll be happy with us. I'm Dickie Tarrant. You going to watch?'