All That Glitters, page 29
‘I’d rather not drink to that.’
‘Why not? A wife won’t stand a chance of curbing the lifestyle of a rat like you. What’s the betting we’ll bump into each other thirty years from now, remember this night, have a good laugh, walk back to our respective theatrical digs and beds which are being warmed by our current loves, without giving one single thought to the poor souls sitting at home, or in my case another theatre, waiting for us to get in touch.’
‘I hope not.’
‘You hope you won’t be treading the boards in thirty years?’
‘No, I hope that I’ll regard my marriage more seriously.’ He chose his words carefully, deliberately omitting all mention of concepts like ‘love’ and ‘commitment’ lest she take them as a further reminder that she had been no more than a passing diversion. Now the passion between them was spent, he wondered what had prompted him to sleep with her in the first place. But since Christmas he could have asked himself that question a dozen times over at the conclusion of a dozen similar, and equally unsatisfactory affairs.
‘I don’t know of any bride or groom who gets married with the idea of playing around. It’s just something that happens. Like scratching yourself when you itch:
‘Then I’ll have to make sure I do all my scratching now, before I meet my wife.’
‘You can try, but have you ever tried sleeping in advance when you know you’re not going to get your full eight hours for a week or two? Like everyone else, you’ll mean well when you start out, but you’re no different to any other man whose looks and libido outweigh his brains. When the little woman is far away tucking babies into bed and you’re sharing a nightcap with a soubrette or the junior lead you’ll forget your good intentions.’
‘There’s no point in arguing with you, Rusty. Not when it can’t be proved one way or the other.’
‘Ah, but given time it will.’ She laughed again, only this time it was a harsher, more brittle sound.
The band struck the opening bars of ‘Begin the Beguine’. He led Rusty on to centre stage. On their left Andrew and Bethan were still seated at their table; behind them Trevor was attempting a foxtrot with Laura. Most of the Revue girls had been propositioned and claimed by the town notables.
‘Right, let’s show them how it’s done,’ Rusty said loudly. She began to dance, her exquisite body swaying, keeping time to the music. Haydn took his cue from her. They stepped side by side, commanding more and more space, relegating the other dancers to the wings as they swirled, turned and improvised new and showy steps.
‘There’s nothing like those two when they get going, not even Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.’ Judy reached for her fourth glass of champagne.
‘Oh I don’t know,’ Mandy said airily, confident that she could have done as well if she’d been partnering Haydn. ‘I think Rusty’s a bit past it, don’t you?’
‘No,’ Judy said flatly. ‘And neither does Norman. Word is he has both of them earmarked for the West End next winter. A revival of The Garden of Allah but if this war goes ahead …’
‘War, war, war!’ Babs complained, as she made her way to the table to refill her glass. ‘That’s all anyone ever talks about these days.’
‘If it does come, it’s got to be good for us,’ Judy the businesswoman pronounced authoritatively. ‘It’ll be just like last time. The whole country awash with servicemen in transit and on leave with money burning holes in their pockets. And we all know there’s nothing servicemen like better than a good time. If we’re good and clever girls and play our cards right, we’ll make sure we’ll be there to give it to them.’
‘You really think it will be like that?’ Babs perked up at the thought of men in uniform paying court to her. She looked at Haydn and imagined him in something dashing. A Captain’s uniform, perhaps.
‘Yes, and I also think that those two will be in the forefront of it all. Can’t you just see them doing that routine in army fatigues?’
‘That was quite a display.’
‘My dancing partner, Rusty. My sister and her husband.’
Rusty nodded, ‘Pleased to meet you,’ and moved on, but not before Andrew intercepted a glance between her and Haydn that confirmed his suspicions about the rumours concerning Haydn and chorus girls.
‘William and Eddie have arrived.’
Haydn looked up and saw Trevor and Laura locked in earnest conversation with his brother and cousin. To his dismay he also noticed Jenny standing beside Eddie.
‘I need a drink.’
‘So do I,’ Bethan said. ‘Something soft like orange juice.’
‘Women,’ Andrew smiled fondly. ‘Give them unlimited champagne and all they want is orange juice.’
Haydn walked around the flats at the back of the stage, but he and Andrew didn’t manage to pass unseen. William joined them as they reached the corridor.
‘Eddie insisted on bringing her with him,’ William apologised.
‘I couldn’t do anything about it.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Haydn buttonholed the barman. ‘Could you do us three beers, three large whiskies -’ he looked enquiringly at his companions, who both nodded agreement – ‘and an orange juice please, Des.’
‘Well, seeing as how it’s you, Haydn. Had enough of the party?’
‘Not really. It’s just getting a bit warm in there.’
‘Saw you and Rusty. Saw Babs and Mandy looking on too. Not surprising the temperature’s climbed a bit high for comfort.’
‘What’s all this?’ William probed.
‘Des likes a good gossip, don’t you, Des?’
‘No. I just stand back in awe, admiration and envy. I can’t keep one woman happy. And look at you, three of them on the go, and not one complaint that you’d notice. What’s your secret, boyo?’
‘No secret. Just making sure I steer well clear of the altar. Can we keep the bottle, Des ’ Haydn put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a pound note.
‘Anything to keep you out of my hair.’
Haydn parked himself on a stool, the only seating left in the bar, between Andrew and William.
‘Trevor won’t be too pleased if he thinks we’re getting drunk without him.’
‘This isn’t getting drunk, that’ll come later,’ William said earnestly.
‘This is just a simple family occasion.’ Haydn downed his whisky and topped up all three glasses.
Andrew looked at Haydn. ‘Problems?’
Haydn shook his head.
‘You can tell me to keep my nose out if you want to. I know what it was like when Bethan and I -’
‘It’s nothing as simple as a row with a girl.’
‘I thought that you and Jenny …’
‘I used to go out with her. There’s been nothing between us for a long time.’
William looked at Haydn. Haydn stared into his glass and nodded. What did it matter who knew? If William told Andrew and everyone else who would listen, it might even get back to Eddie and make the idiot see sense for the first time in his life.
‘Jenny stopped Haydn on the hill the other night and asked if they could pick up where they left off.’
‘When I said no, she threatened to make a beeline for Eddie. Looks like she’s done what she set out to do.’
‘Then she’s only going out with Eddie to get back at you?’
‘That’s what the lady said.’
‘Have you tried talking to him?’
‘Yes. But I didn’t even get as far as mentioning her name. If you think you can succeed where I failed, please, be my guest, go ahead.’
‘Not me.’ Andrew rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. ‘He knocked me out once, remember.’
‘I remember,’ Haydn smiled. ‘Just before you married Bethan. He made a good job of it too.’
‘I wasn’t right for months afterwards. When this bottle is finished, please allow me to get the next. If I can’t do anything constructive to help, I can at least engineer temporary oblivion.’
‘That won’t solve anything,’ William said.
‘No, but it’ll blur the edges and numb the pain if I do happen to find the courage to tackle Eddie and he does lash out,’ Haydn answered drily.
Music echoed from the auditorium, accompanied by the unrefined tones of Billy’s voice: ‘I can’t dance, don’t ask me. I can’t dance …’
‘Where you going?’ William asked, as Haydn refilled their glasses, picked up the bottle, and headed for the door.
‘Taking the doctor’s advice,’ he bowed to Andrew. ‘Getting drunk. Then I intend to dance with every girl who’s willing. I may even make love to a couple. And afterwards I intend to tell little brother that he’s walking out with the wrong woman.’
‘Haydn, just look at the way Jenny’s fawning all over him. It’s going to take a lot more than a grand gesture from you to change Eddie’s mind about her. Please, leave it to me.’
‘What makes you think he’s going to listen to you when he wouldn’t listen to me?’ Haydn looked from William to Andrew, then in the mirror behind the bar at himself. ‘I don’t know about you, but at the moment I think we’re about running neck and neck in the depths of Eddie’s estimation. The cousin who, on his own admission, couldn’t have made it plainer in the Palais that he hates Jenny; the brother who once lusted after her, and the rich brother-in-law he calls Cashmere Coat. Which one of us do you think he hates the most?’
‘Haydn didn’t mean anything by that,’ William apologised to Andrew after Haydn left.
‘I’ve learned that insults from the Powells are a kind of initiation rite into the family. I hope that if I continue to take them without complaining too much, you may eventually accept me.’
‘It’s not been easy for Haydn since he’s come back. He was looking forward to it, he even wrote to me to tell me how much, but now he’s actually here, all he does is moan that nothing’s the same.’
‘And it won’t be ever again, because he now lives in a different world. One foot in both and belonging to neither. I know exactly how he feels.’
‘You do?’
‘I went to medical school when I was eighteen, and came back at twenty-three to find everything changed. Principally myself.’
‘Come to think of it, Haydn has changed more than the rest of us.’
Andrew picked up his pint and the orange juice. ‘I should be getting back to Bethan.’
‘And I to the chorus girls. I seem to be the only Powell who hasn’t got girl problems, and one or two of the right kind would be very welcome.’
Mandy and Judy were holding centre stage with an up-to-the-minute version of ‘Dance Little Lady’ that brought the Charleston into modern times. Billy had handed over the microphone to Haydn, who was down on one knee, singing to the girls, much to everyone’s amusement.
‘Life on stage seems to be one big party.’ A real, or imagined wistfulness in Jenny’s voice set Eddie’s teeth on edge.
‘You think so?’
‘It’s not all glamour, exotic clothes and good times, Miss …’ Billy looked at Jenny.
‘Griffiths. Jenny Griffiths.’
‘I’ve yet to meet a Jenny who wasn’t the essence of loveliness.’
‘You were telling us about life on stage,’ Andrew broke in hastily as Eddie glowered at the comic.
‘It’s sheer hard work. And an awful lot of it. Practise, rehearse, practise, and then at the end of the day when all you want to do is fall into your bed, alone,’ he nudged Jenny’s elbow within Andrew’s sight, but thankfully out of Eddie’s, ‘because you’re too tired to do anything except sleep, you have to get out there and perform. Give your all and more because you can’t disappoint your audience, even if they are only local shopkeepers on complimentary tickets that have been handed out by the bill-stickers. And you even learn to be grateful for that appalling audience, because the alternative of no audience at all is too ghastly to contemplate. If you don’t believe me, all you have to do is ask that one.’ He pointed to where Jane had retreated with the rest of the usherettes.
‘She’s not on stage,’ Jenny said sharply.
‘Ah, but she wants to be, and she has talent.’
‘Jane?’
‘Your brother has been coaching her,’ Billy informed Eddie.
‘Hey, darling,’ he waved vigorously to Jane, who, immersed in Mandy and Judy’s dancing and Haydn’s singing, didn’t hear him until the music ended. Just as the orchestra fell silent, Billy put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. ‘Here girl,’ he commanded as though she were a dog.
‘What do you want, Billy?’ She sidled over, half expecting a squirt of water from his buttonhole.
‘‘‘Something to do with spring,”’ he shouted down to Gustav in the orchestra pit.
‘Only if you tear up my poker IOUs.’
‘You’re on.’ He turned to Haydn. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Mind what?’
‘Me dancing with your protégé.’
‘I’m not dancing with you. Not with the manager, Mr Evans and everyone else watching,’ Jane protested.
‘Everyone’s had so many glasses of champagne they wouldn’t notice if I was dancing with a two-headed octopus.’
‘Come on,’ Haydn took her arm.
‘Hey, this was my idea,’ Billy shouted.
‘No chance, Billy boy. Jane’s my discovery.’
‘Good heavens, is that Jane?’ Joe Evans peered over the rim of a glass at Haydn who was dancing to the refrain of ‘Poor Little Rich Girl’ with Jane.
‘Talented theatre as well as stage staff.’ Trevor pushed his glass towards the manager, who was topping up all the glasses on their table.
‘What a party. I can’t remember one like it.’ The manager carried on splashing champagne recklessly into every glass in sight, forgetting that Norman had only offered to pay for the first two dozen bottles.
The music ended. Haydn stood and laughed as Jane, red-faced and breathless, ran off backstage.
Andrew left the table. ‘Lovely party. Thanks for getting us invited, but it’s time we were on our way.’
‘Nothing wrong with Bethan?’ Haydn slurred slightly, on target towards his goal of getting drunk.
‘Just past her bedtime.’
‘We’ll be seeing you tomorrow?’ Bethan asked as Trevor helped her on with her wrap.
‘Wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world,’ Haydn kissed his sister’s cheek.
‘I suppose it is too early to offer you a lift?’
‘Yes it is. I’ll walk up later with Jane.’
Bethan looked over to the gap between two flats where Jane was hiding with Ann and Avril. ‘Bring her tomorrow will you, Haydn. Everyone else is coming, and she can’t very well stay at home by herself.’
Haydn walked Bethan, Andrew, Laura and Trevor to the door.
He locked it behind him and slowly climbed the steps. The champagne had gone to more than his head. Or possibly it was the dancing. Either way, his feet were dragging when he looked up and saw Mandy standing in front of the shuttered box-office, two glasses in hand, her light green silk gown clinging seductively to her voluptuous curves.
‘Goodbye drink?’
‘I have to get back to the party.’
‘I’m not here to whine, Haydn. Not like Rusty did last week when you told her it was over between you.’
He recalled the ugly scene between himself and Rusty and the thin walls between the dressing rooms, and wondered if anything in his life could be classed as private.
She smiled, biting her lip to stop it from trembling ‘It was fun while it lasted, but I knew I’d never have exclusive rights, not over someone like you.’
‘I doubt you’d want to if you knew what I was really like. As Rusty said, I’m a rat.’
‘When romance is in the air, a girl never notices what part of the animal kingdom a man comes from.’
He was left with the uncomfortable feeling that he’d heard the line somewhere before. In a play or a film?
‘To success, and our separate careers?’ She descended the steps and pressed a glass into his hand.
‘To success.’ He drank, but he had reached a watershed. His stomach revolted at more liquid being poured into it. Even champagne. ‘Good luck on the rest of the tour. Got anything lined up at the end of it?’
‘Not straight after, but I’ve been offered pantomime at Yarmouth for the Christmas season. I was there last year. It’s Dandini. What do you think? Third billing’s not bad for a Revue girl?’
‘Not bad at all.’ Because her face was barely an inch away from his, he bent his head intending to kiss her cheek, but she moved at the last minute and he found himself kissing her mouth.
‘Goodnight, Haydn.’ Jane brushed past him, descending the steps in company with the other usherettes.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ he called after her, forgetting Mandy’s presence.
‘I’d rather walk home with the other girls.’
‘Goodnight, Haydn,’ Avril called blithely. ‘See you next week.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Mandy said tartly as they slammed the door behind them. ‘I didn’t mean to sour things between you and your little girlfriend.’
Her injured air and patronising tone infuriated Haydn. ‘She’s not my “little girlfriend”. She lodges in my father’s house.’
‘Really?’
‘Is that the only damned word showgirls know?’
‘My God, you do love her!’
‘What I do, or don’t do, is none of your damned business.’ He ran down to the door, hesitated when he remembered he had left his coat in his dressing room, then decided he could do without it for one-night.
‘You don’t know everything about sweet innocent Jane,’ Mandy mocked as he opened the door.
‘What do you mean?’ he looked back at her. She was leaning against the wall, smiling maliciously.
‘You’ll find out in time.’ She held up her empty glass. ‘I need more of this.’
‘Mandy!’
Ignoring him she walked away, her heels tapping in time to the melody of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ echoing from the auditorium. ‘You don’t know everything about sweet innocent Jane?’ Sometimes it seemed to Haydn as though the whole world knew more about Jane Jones than he did.
