September Morning, page 11
He agreed, as she had known he would, and after a couple of hours of female persuasion he had also reluctantly given in to their request for a short visit to the Flamingo Club.
‘But if it’s in the least bit dubious, then we’re coming straight back here,’ he warned.
Skye and Wenna smiled at one another, well pleased, and determined to make a night of it, whatever he said.
* * *
The Flamingo Club was a pleasant surprise. True to Fanny’s word, it wasn’t seedy at all. The decor was that of a discreet little nightclub, with a small area for dancing, and a raised platform where the various acts performed.
Wenna was instantly entranced by the glittering costumes of the dancers who performed acrobatic feats to music, and the comedian whose jokes bordered on schoolboy humour with veiled references to Herr Hitler and exaggerated goose-stepping. But what thrilled her most was the female torch singer, imported from America who sang in a deep, soulful voice to a piano accompaniment. The singer wore a long, creamy figure-hugging gown, and trailed a wispy chiffon scarf through her fingers as she wandered among the audience, exuding the kind of perfume that hadn’t come out of Woolworth’s. She was glamour personified, and Wenna was bowled over by her.
‘Wasn’t she simply marvellous?’ she said, almost choked with emotion when the rendition came to an end.
‘Marvellous,’ her father agreed. ‘But don’t go getting any ideas, darling. You need real talent and self-confidence to be able to perform like that.’
Wenna stared into the distance, the subtle and intimate lighting of the club made the room very romantic. No ideas of trying to emulate such a star had even entered her head. Not until now. Not until her father had unwittingly put them there. She swallowed.
‘It must be lovely to entertain people and send them home feeling so happy, though.’
‘You stick to your piano playing and singing at the academy, Wenna. It’s much safer to be well praised for your performances and to leave it at that, than to risk embarking on a precarious stage career,’ he said lightly, never realising how his words had taken root.
He might not, but Skye had. Her heart beat a little faster at the glow in her younger daughter’s eyes. Celia had always been the confident one, while Wenna had always lagged a little behind, uncertain, unsure of herself, even with the undoubted talent she had inherited from Primmy Tremayne’s superb piano playing. But Wenna had even more. She had a husky singing voice that was a faint echo of the American torch singer. With the right training and direction, it could be as intimate as the star performer’s here tonight.
Skye shook herself, knowing she was letting her imagination run away with her on her daughter’s behalf. And knowing too, that it wouldn’t be the kind of future Nick would want for his daughter. But no matter how much she adored him, Nick would always have the lawyer’s reserve on that score, while Skye was a free-spirited American, where the moon and stars were there for the taking.
The show was over, and she saw Fanny weaving her way towards them, with Georgie in tow.
‘You came then, ducks,’ she shrilled out gleefully. ‘So what did you think of the acts? Wasn’t Gloria del Mar the absolute bleedin’ tops?’
‘She was wonderful, Fanny,’ Skye agreed. ‘Wenna certainly thought so.’
‘Good, ’cos she’s joining us for supper in the flat upstairs. You can meet her prop’ly then. She might even give us a tune or two if we talk nicely to ’er. We’ve got a piano up there, though Georgie’s a bit rusty on it. Your Ma used to play, didn’t she, Skye?’
‘She was semi-professional,’ Skye said with a burst of pride. ‘Wenna takes after her. She can play and sing too.’
‘Mom!’ Wenna said, agonised. It was one thing to have stars in your eyes. It was quite another to visualise accompanying the glamorous Miss Gloria del Mar.
Georgie suddenly spoke up, in a quiet, slightly lisping voice. It was clear that he rarely spoke at all while his wife held court, and they all looked at him in surprise.
‘Perhaps the little lady would do us the honour of trying out the piano first of all. It needs someone who loves the instrument to get the best out of it, and I’m afraid such a description does not fit myself.’
Wenna caught his shy smile and found herself smiling back. He was such an incongruous match for the awful, yet oddly endearing Fanny. The warmth of his welcome was like that of an indulgent grandfather, and she loved him at once.
‘I could try, if you really want me to,’ she said.
Her heart was still skipping beats with monotonous regularity when they finally went up to the elegant flat above the club, and discovered that Fanny and Georgie lived quite the high life. Georgie obviously had other qualities besides a placid nature to complement his wife. There was someone to cook supper, and someone else to serve it.
Fanny had evidently fallen very much on her feet, and not for want of trying, Skye confided to Nick later, ignoring his jibe that it was more likely the time spent on her back that had finally produced the goods.
But by then, Wenna had realised the possibility of doors opening to her that she had never in her wildest dreams considered before.
Supper was a noisy, jolly affair, and Georgie proved to be a congenial, witty man with a dry sense of humour that was a complete foil to Fanny’s brashness. That they adored one another was obvious to everyone. When they had eaten their fill and drunk copious amounts of wine and coffee, Gloria was persuaded to sing for them without too much urging. She declared that she was going to sing a song dedicated especially to them both.
‘Are you going to play for me, honey?’ she asked Wenna. ‘I hope you can follow the sheet music, but you probably know the song. Try it first. It was all the rage last year.’
She opened the lid of the piano stool, clearly very much at home with the Rosenblooms, and handed the sheet music to Wenna with a smile. Music lessons at the academy involved mainly classical pieces, but Wenna was well acquainted with the more popular songs of the day, and to her relief she already knew this one.
Her fingers rippled over the keys for a few experimental bars, and then launched into the haunting, expressive melody of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ while the others listened. Then she nodded to Gloria, who began to sing, lingering over the words with all the heartfelt emotion of the torch singer, and Wenna felt her throat close up. To offset the feeling, she found herself humming the tune very quietly as she played. So absorbed was she in the sheer aesthetic beauty of the words and the music that she didn’t realise that Gloria had stopped singing.
She stopped playing at once, scarlet with embarrassment.
‘No, don’t stop,’ Gloria said softly. ‘Why don’t you sing it, honey? I’d love to hear you.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t possibly,’ she said, totally confused now.
‘Go on, ducks,’ Fanny said encouragingly. ‘Gloria don’t sit back and let someone else take centre stage unless she thinks there’s a star in the makin’.’
‘I’m hardly that!’
They waited expectantly and she swallowed, placing her fingers on the piano keys she loved, letting the melody flow out again, and putting her own husky interpretation on the sensuous words.
‘…Love me… never, never change… keep that breathless charm…’
There was silence for a moment when she had finished. She felt the same acute embarrassment she had felt before, but there was exhilaration too, because she had put her heart and soul into it, feeling the emotions of the composer and lyricist, the way she always did whenever she performed anything. And then she heard the applause.
There were only five other people in the room, but the applause was loud and unstinting. Gloria put her arm round her shoulders and faced the others.
‘I’m no clairvoyant, and I don’t know what you folks have got in mind for this little gal, but she’s clearly destined for Broadway. She’s an absolute natural, and with that talent and those looks she could make it anywhere.’
Nick cleared his throat, seeing his daughter’s eyes glowing like sapphires. Her Swiss tutor’s praise for her musical skills was as nothing compared with the future that Gloria del Mar was dangling in front of her, and it had to be curbed before Wenna got completely star struck. She was too young, too impressionable, still his little girl, even though he had been startled and deeply affected by the depth of emotion she had put into the song. In those moments she had no longer been his Wenna, but a sensual young woman yearning for her lover… and Nick needed to squash the unwelcome illusion at all costs.
‘It’s very kind of you to compliment her so much, but it’s far too soon for Wenna to think about a career at all. When she finishes her tuition in Switzerland she’ll be coming home to Cornwall, and that will be time enough to consider what direction she’ll be taking.’
‘Oh, Daddy, don’t be so pompous,’ Wenna said with a nervous giggle. ‘I’m not going to be a stuffy old lawyer like Olly, that’s for sure.’
Skye put a restraining hand on Nick’s arm. Before the tension rose any further, Fanny said, ‘Your boy was just a babby when I visited you all them years back, Skye. I never had no dealings with infants as you know. Never knew which end of ’em was worst, if yer gets my meanin’. Going to be a lawyer, is he? Fancy that. He’s made up his mind already then. And what about the other gel? Celia, weren’t it?’
‘She may be going to work in Berlin as a personal assistant for a company that buys a lot of our pottery. If I’d known I was going to see you again, Fanny, I’d have brought some of it for you as a gift,’ Skye said, thankful to turn the talk away from the magic of a potential stage career.
Not that she had the reservations that Nick had. In his eyes, such a life was consistent with debauchery at the very least, and filled with unsavoury characters, which, he had to admit, Gloria del Mar certainly was not. She was charming and delightful, but she was clearly wise enough to say nothing more about it as the Pengellys decided they really must leave for their hotel.
‘Georgie will run you back, Skye. You’ll never find a cab at this time of night.’
‘Oh, we couldn’t put you out like that.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ the congenial Georgie said, and before they left to slide into the vastness of his big Daimler, Fanny hugged Wenna.
‘If you decide you want to try yer luck, darlin’, you jest get in touch wiv us. We know the best agents who won’t rip yer orf, and you’d be welcome to have a spot in the Flamingo. You could lodge wiv us in our spare room, so no harm would come to yer.’
‘Thank you,’ Wenna said, dazed, aware that Nick was edging her out of the room before she committed herself. Not that she would, or could, right now. She was only seventeen years old, and she had until the end of the summer to finish her time at St Augustine’s, but after that…
‘Fanny’s heart’s in the right place,’ Georgie observed to no one in particular as he drove them away in the sleek motor car towards the smart London hotel where they were staying. ‘She’d be like a mother to your gel, as well as an eagle-eyed chaperon. She’d be well looked after if she came to us.’
Skye leaned towards him before Nick could reply.
‘I have no doubt of it, Georgie, and I thank you for the offer, but Wenna’s always been a home-living girl and might well decide that she’s been away from home for long enough.’
Georgie glanced at the girl in question sitting in the corner of the back seat as she gazed out of the window at London’s bright lights and the throngs of people who didn’t seem to want this wonderful day to end, no matter how late the hour. He thought that the girl herself might have ideas of her own about that. Such talent was far too good to waste in a Cornish backwater.
* * *
It was obvious that the Pengellys would have to purchase one of the new-fangled television sets, even though the programmes were so very few as yet. It was the thing of the future, Theo boasted.
Olly was making the most of his painful ankle while still confined indoors, and secretly enjoyed being waited on by everyone. But his relentless pleading for a television set of their own, coupled with his enthusiasm and lordly comments that he had seen far more of the coronation day on the screen than the others had seen, finally won Nick over. Besides, Olly added slyly in a final burst of triumph, they surely didn’t want his Uncle Theo to continue crowing over the fact that he could afford the luxury of something the Pengellys didn’t own.
‘Your son has all the makings of a lawyer,’ Nick observed to Skye as they drove into Truro to see about arranging delivery and installation. But she could see he wasn’t displeased at the thought. Olly could argue with the best of them, and that was Nick’s forte too.
She wanted peace and harmony in the house. There had been a small fracas when Wenna had declared to Olly that she was going to be a stage star, and Nick had flatly refused to listen to any such ideas until she had finished her education.
* * *
Wenna had since returned to Gstaad in a considerably more aggressive mood than usual, asserting her rights to anyone who would listen, including her sister.
Celia grinned. ‘And the awful Fanny would be willing to give you a home, would she? I can’t imagine what kind of a place she lives in.’
‘It’s a lovely flat, as a matter of fact, and you wouldn’t know her now,’ Wenna said, defending her. ‘She’s perfectly respectable, and Georgie’s a lovely man.’
‘Well, you’d better not let the tutors hear you say you’re going to be a star of stage and screen, or whatever, or you’ll be thrown out of here as a bad influence on the younger girls!’
Wenna laughed at the thought, but her eyes were pleading, wanting Celia’s approval. ‘You don’t really think it’s such a daft idea though, do you, sis?’
Celia suddenly saw how intense she was, and how important all this was to her. The idea that had been no more than a small seed of ambition now burned brightly in Wenna’s soul.
Uncharacteristically, Celia gave her sister a hug.
‘If you want it badly enough, don’t let anyone try to stop you. Make sure it’s truly what you want, that’s all.’
‘Mom showed me some portraits of her mother when she played the piano in concerts. Old Uncle Albie had painted some that I hadn’t even seen before,’ Wenna said. ‘She was so lovely, and I know I want to be just like her.’
‘Then I’m sure you will be,’ Celia said, touched. ‘Just don’t push it too hard with Dad, that’s all.’
There was no point in doing anything about it yet, except to dream of what might be. She was too young to be allowed that freedom. Another year, and her parents might just think of letting her go to London alone. In any case, in a few months’ time they would be losing one daughter when Celia went to work in Berlin. It was far too soon for them to think of losing another. She would have to be content with at least a spell of life in Cornwall once she left Gstaad. Until then, academic and cultural activities had to take precedence over everything else if she was to get the same coveted certificate of excellence that Celia had won in her own final term. All thoughts of a future career had to be put firmly to the back of her mind.
But it was far from the back of other peoples’ minds. In London, there were three people who had become excited over the huge potential of the girl they believed they had discovered.
‘I’d be more than willing to promote her,’ Georgie Rosenbloom said, never slow to back what he saw as a winner. ‘She’d need a good agent, and Gloria already has someone highly reliable in mind.’
‘She’d stay here wiv us, of course,’ Fanny said. ‘I’d make good my promise to Skye on that one. We don’t want no greasy-haired gigolos hanging round and causin’ bleedin’ ructions. She’s a good girl, and she’d need to be portrayed as such. She’s a proper bleedin’ angel with that voice of hers.’
‘You’re right, honey,’ Gloria del Mar said thoughtfully. ‘And with the right kind of promotion and backing, she could be really big. I think we ought to write a careful letter to her parents and put our proposals to them. We can’t do anything without their consent, since the girl is still a minor. Thinking ahead though, it won’t do any of us any harm to let it be known eventually that we discovered her right here in the Flamingo Club. Didn’t you say her mom used to be a journalist? That’s to our advantage. She won’t be averse to some cleverly worded publicity when the time comes. What we have to do is assure them that it’s Wenna’s future we’re thinking of, and that there’s no question of our trying to yank her out of that posh school before time.’
They smiled at one another, well satisfied with what had so unexpectedly come their way. Georgie was more than happy at the thought of having a hand in handling this potential gold mine, and each of them was genuinely excited at the thought of steering this very likeable little lady to fame and fortune.
Chapter Seven
Theo swore vehemently as he scanned the official letter that had been delivered that morning. Coming hard on the heels of what that bastard Pengelly had been intimating recently, it smacked of intrigue going on behind his back. If there was one thing to get him riled up, it was that.
As always, when he was upset, his liver was affected, and he went about roaring and cursing at anyone who happened to come within earshot. It felt as if his entire guts were on fire and tied in knots on that fine June morning as his motor roared up to New World.
He scattered gravel in all directions as he hauled on the brake outside the house. He slammed the vehicle door behind him and hammered on the front door, bawling for admittance until Mrs Yardley answered him indignantly.
‘Good morning to ’ee, Mr Theo, sir,’ she began, and then stepped hastily aside as he marched past her, hollering loudly for his cousin.
‘If you’m wanting Mrs Pengelly, you’m out of luck, sir,’ she told him stiffly. ‘She’s gone up to the pottery, and Mr Pengelly’s away at Bodmin with the accountant. There’s only young Master Oliver here and he’s in his room with his books.’
‘But if it’s in the least bit dubious, then we’re coming straight back here,’ he warned.
Skye and Wenna smiled at one another, well pleased, and determined to make a night of it, whatever he said.
* * *
The Flamingo Club was a pleasant surprise. True to Fanny’s word, it wasn’t seedy at all. The decor was that of a discreet little nightclub, with a small area for dancing, and a raised platform where the various acts performed.
Wenna was instantly entranced by the glittering costumes of the dancers who performed acrobatic feats to music, and the comedian whose jokes bordered on schoolboy humour with veiled references to Herr Hitler and exaggerated goose-stepping. But what thrilled her most was the female torch singer, imported from America who sang in a deep, soulful voice to a piano accompaniment. The singer wore a long, creamy figure-hugging gown, and trailed a wispy chiffon scarf through her fingers as she wandered among the audience, exuding the kind of perfume that hadn’t come out of Woolworth’s. She was glamour personified, and Wenna was bowled over by her.
‘Wasn’t she simply marvellous?’ she said, almost choked with emotion when the rendition came to an end.
‘Marvellous,’ her father agreed. ‘But don’t go getting any ideas, darling. You need real talent and self-confidence to be able to perform like that.’
Wenna stared into the distance, the subtle and intimate lighting of the club made the room very romantic. No ideas of trying to emulate such a star had even entered her head. Not until now. Not until her father had unwittingly put them there. She swallowed.
‘It must be lovely to entertain people and send them home feeling so happy, though.’
‘You stick to your piano playing and singing at the academy, Wenna. It’s much safer to be well praised for your performances and to leave it at that, than to risk embarking on a precarious stage career,’ he said lightly, never realising how his words had taken root.
He might not, but Skye had. Her heart beat a little faster at the glow in her younger daughter’s eyes. Celia had always been the confident one, while Wenna had always lagged a little behind, uncertain, unsure of herself, even with the undoubted talent she had inherited from Primmy Tremayne’s superb piano playing. But Wenna had even more. She had a husky singing voice that was a faint echo of the American torch singer. With the right training and direction, it could be as intimate as the star performer’s here tonight.
Skye shook herself, knowing she was letting her imagination run away with her on her daughter’s behalf. And knowing too, that it wouldn’t be the kind of future Nick would want for his daughter. But no matter how much she adored him, Nick would always have the lawyer’s reserve on that score, while Skye was a free-spirited American, where the moon and stars were there for the taking.
The show was over, and she saw Fanny weaving her way towards them, with Georgie in tow.
‘You came then, ducks,’ she shrilled out gleefully. ‘So what did you think of the acts? Wasn’t Gloria del Mar the absolute bleedin’ tops?’
‘She was wonderful, Fanny,’ Skye agreed. ‘Wenna certainly thought so.’
‘Good, ’cos she’s joining us for supper in the flat upstairs. You can meet her prop’ly then. She might even give us a tune or two if we talk nicely to ’er. We’ve got a piano up there, though Georgie’s a bit rusty on it. Your Ma used to play, didn’t she, Skye?’
‘She was semi-professional,’ Skye said with a burst of pride. ‘Wenna takes after her. She can play and sing too.’
‘Mom!’ Wenna said, agonised. It was one thing to have stars in your eyes. It was quite another to visualise accompanying the glamorous Miss Gloria del Mar.
Georgie suddenly spoke up, in a quiet, slightly lisping voice. It was clear that he rarely spoke at all while his wife held court, and they all looked at him in surprise.
‘Perhaps the little lady would do us the honour of trying out the piano first of all. It needs someone who loves the instrument to get the best out of it, and I’m afraid such a description does not fit myself.’
Wenna caught his shy smile and found herself smiling back. He was such an incongruous match for the awful, yet oddly endearing Fanny. The warmth of his welcome was like that of an indulgent grandfather, and she loved him at once.
‘I could try, if you really want me to,’ she said.
Her heart was still skipping beats with monotonous regularity when they finally went up to the elegant flat above the club, and discovered that Fanny and Georgie lived quite the high life. Georgie obviously had other qualities besides a placid nature to complement his wife. There was someone to cook supper, and someone else to serve it.
Fanny had evidently fallen very much on her feet, and not for want of trying, Skye confided to Nick later, ignoring his jibe that it was more likely the time spent on her back that had finally produced the goods.
But by then, Wenna had realised the possibility of doors opening to her that she had never in her wildest dreams considered before.
Supper was a noisy, jolly affair, and Georgie proved to be a congenial, witty man with a dry sense of humour that was a complete foil to Fanny’s brashness. That they adored one another was obvious to everyone. When they had eaten their fill and drunk copious amounts of wine and coffee, Gloria was persuaded to sing for them without too much urging. She declared that she was going to sing a song dedicated especially to them both.
‘Are you going to play for me, honey?’ she asked Wenna. ‘I hope you can follow the sheet music, but you probably know the song. Try it first. It was all the rage last year.’
She opened the lid of the piano stool, clearly very much at home with the Rosenblooms, and handed the sheet music to Wenna with a smile. Music lessons at the academy involved mainly classical pieces, but Wenna was well acquainted with the more popular songs of the day, and to her relief she already knew this one.
Her fingers rippled over the keys for a few experimental bars, and then launched into the haunting, expressive melody of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ while the others listened. Then she nodded to Gloria, who began to sing, lingering over the words with all the heartfelt emotion of the torch singer, and Wenna felt her throat close up. To offset the feeling, she found herself humming the tune very quietly as she played. So absorbed was she in the sheer aesthetic beauty of the words and the music that she didn’t realise that Gloria had stopped singing.
She stopped playing at once, scarlet with embarrassment.
‘No, don’t stop,’ Gloria said softly. ‘Why don’t you sing it, honey? I’d love to hear you.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t possibly,’ she said, totally confused now.
‘Go on, ducks,’ Fanny said encouragingly. ‘Gloria don’t sit back and let someone else take centre stage unless she thinks there’s a star in the makin’.’
‘I’m hardly that!’
They waited expectantly and she swallowed, placing her fingers on the piano keys she loved, letting the melody flow out again, and putting her own husky interpretation on the sensuous words.
‘…Love me… never, never change… keep that breathless charm…’
There was silence for a moment when she had finished. She felt the same acute embarrassment she had felt before, but there was exhilaration too, because she had put her heart and soul into it, feeling the emotions of the composer and lyricist, the way she always did whenever she performed anything. And then she heard the applause.
There were only five other people in the room, but the applause was loud and unstinting. Gloria put her arm round her shoulders and faced the others.
‘I’m no clairvoyant, and I don’t know what you folks have got in mind for this little gal, but she’s clearly destined for Broadway. She’s an absolute natural, and with that talent and those looks she could make it anywhere.’
Nick cleared his throat, seeing his daughter’s eyes glowing like sapphires. Her Swiss tutor’s praise for her musical skills was as nothing compared with the future that Gloria del Mar was dangling in front of her, and it had to be curbed before Wenna got completely star struck. She was too young, too impressionable, still his little girl, even though he had been startled and deeply affected by the depth of emotion she had put into the song. In those moments she had no longer been his Wenna, but a sensual young woman yearning for her lover… and Nick needed to squash the unwelcome illusion at all costs.
‘It’s very kind of you to compliment her so much, but it’s far too soon for Wenna to think about a career at all. When she finishes her tuition in Switzerland she’ll be coming home to Cornwall, and that will be time enough to consider what direction she’ll be taking.’
‘Oh, Daddy, don’t be so pompous,’ Wenna said with a nervous giggle. ‘I’m not going to be a stuffy old lawyer like Olly, that’s for sure.’
Skye put a restraining hand on Nick’s arm. Before the tension rose any further, Fanny said, ‘Your boy was just a babby when I visited you all them years back, Skye. I never had no dealings with infants as you know. Never knew which end of ’em was worst, if yer gets my meanin’. Going to be a lawyer, is he? Fancy that. He’s made up his mind already then. And what about the other gel? Celia, weren’t it?’
‘She may be going to work in Berlin as a personal assistant for a company that buys a lot of our pottery. If I’d known I was going to see you again, Fanny, I’d have brought some of it for you as a gift,’ Skye said, thankful to turn the talk away from the magic of a potential stage career.
Not that she had the reservations that Nick had. In his eyes, such a life was consistent with debauchery at the very least, and filled with unsavoury characters, which, he had to admit, Gloria del Mar certainly was not. She was charming and delightful, but she was clearly wise enough to say nothing more about it as the Pengellys decided they really must leave for their hotel.
‘Georgie will run you back, Skye. You’ll never find a cab at this time of night.’
‘Oh, we couldn’t put you out like that.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ the congenial Georgie said, and before they left to slide into the vastness of his big Daimler, Fanny hugged Wenna.
‘If you decide you want to try yer luck, darlin’, you jest get in touch wiv us. We know the best agents who won’t rip yer orf, and you’d be welcome to have a spot in the Flamingo. You could lodge wiv us in our spare room, so no harm would come to yer.’
‘Thank you,’ Wenna said, dazed, aware that Nick was edging her out of the room before she committed herself. Not that she would, or could, right now. She was only seventeen years old, and she had until the end of the summer to finish her time at St Augustine’s, but after that…
‘Fanny’s heart’s in the right place,’ Georgie observed to no one in particular as he drove them away in the sleek motor car towards the smart London hotel where they were staying. ‘She’d be like a mother to your gel, as well as an eagle-eyed chaperon. She’d be well looked after if she came to us.’
Skye leaned towards him before Nick could reply.
‘I have no doubt of it, Georgie, and I thank you for the offer, but Wenna’s always been a home-living girl and might well decide that she’s been away from home for long enough.’
Georgie glanced at the girl in question sitting in the corner of the back seat as she gazed out of the window at London’s bright lights and the throngs of people who didn’t seem to want this wonderful day to end, no matter how late the hour. He thought that the girl herself might have ideas of her own about that. Such talent was far too good to waste in a Cornish backwater.
* * *
It was obvious that the Pengellys would have to purchase one of the new-fangled television sets, even though the programmes were so very few as yet. It was the thing of the future, Theo boasted.
Olly was making the most of his painful ankle while still confined indoors, and secretly enjoyed being waited on by everyone. But his relentless pleading for a television set of their own, coupled with his enthusiasm and lordly comments that he had seen far more of the coronation day on the screen than the others had seen, finally won Nick over. Besides, Olly added slyly in a final burst of triumph, they surely didn’t want his Uncle Theo to continue crowing over the fact that he could afford the luxury of something the Pengellys didn’t own.
‘Your son has all the makings of a lawyer,’ Nick observed to Skye as they drove into Truro to see about arranging delivery and installation. But she could see he wasn’t displeased at the thought. Olly could argue with the best of them, and that was Nick’s forte too.
She wanted peace and harmony in the house. There had been a small fracas when Wenna had declared to Olly that she was going to be a stage star, and Nick had flatly refused to listen to any such ideas until she had finished her education.
* * *
Wenna had since returned to Gstaad in a considerably more aggressive mood than usual, asserting her rights to anyone who would listen, including her sister.
Celia grinned. ‘And the awful Fanny would be willing to give you a home, would she? I can’t imagine what kind of a place she lives in.’
‘It’s a lovely flat, as a matter of fact, and you wouldn’t know her now,’ Wenna said, defending her. ‘She’s perfectly respectable, and Georgie’s a lovely man.’
‘Well, you’d better not let the tutors hear you say you’re going to be a star of stage and screen, or whatever, or you’ll be thrown out of here as a bad influence on the younger girls!’
Wenna laughed at the thought, but her eyes were pleading, wanting Celia’s approval. ‘You don’t really think it’s such a daft idea though, do you, sis?’
Celia suddenly saw how intense she was, and how important all this was to her. The idea that had been no more than a small seed of ambition now burned brightly in Wenna’s soul.
Uncharacteristically, Celia gave her sister a hug.
‘If you want it badly enough, don’t let anyone try to stop you. Make sure it’s truly what you want, that’s all.’
‘Mom showed me some portraits of her mother when she played the piano in concerts. Old Uncle Albie had painted some that I hadn’t even seen before,’ Wenna said. ‘She was so lovely, and I know I want to be just like her.’
‘Then I’m sure you will be,’ Celia said, touched. ‘Just don’t push it too hard with Dad, that’s all.’
There was no point in doing anything about it yet, except to dream of what might be. She was too young to be allowed that freedom. Another year, and her parents might just think of letting her go to London alone. In any case, in a few months’ time they would be losing one daughter when Celia went to work in Berlin. It was far too soon for them to think of losing another. She would have to be content with at least a spell of life in Cornwall once she left Gstaad. Until then, academic and cultural activities had to take precedence over everything else if she was to get the same coveted certificate of excellence that Celia had won in her own final term. All thoughts of a future career had to be put firmly to the back of her mind.
But it was far from the back of other peoples’ minds. In London, there were three people who had become excited over the huge potential of the girl they believed they had discovered.
‘I’d be more than willing to promote her,’ Georgie Rosenbloom said, never slow to back what he saw as a winner. ‘She’d need a good agent, and Gloria already has someone highly reliable in mind.’
‘She’d stay here wiv us, of course,’ Fanny said. ‘I’d make good my promise to Skye on that one. We don’t want no greasy-haired gigolos hanging round and causin’ bleedin’ ructions. She’s a good girl, and she’d need to be portrayed as such. She’s a proper bleedin’ angel with that voice of hers.’
‘You’re right, honey,’ Gloria del Mar said thoughtfully. ‘And with the right kind of promotion and backing, she could be really big. I think we ought to write a careful letter to her parents and put our proposals to them. We can’t do anything without their consent, since the girl is still a minor. Thinking ahead though, it won’t do any of us any harm to let it be known eventually that we discovered her right here in the Flamingo Club. Didn’t you say her mom used to be a journalist? That’s to our advantage. She won’t be averse to some cleverly worded publicity when the time comes. What we have to do is assure them that it’s Wenna’s future we’re thinking of, and that there’s no question of our trying to yank her out of that posh school before time.’
They smiled at one another, well satisfied with what had so unexpectedly come their way. Georgie was more than happy at the thought of having a hand in handling this potential gold mine, and each of them was genuinely excited at the thought of steering this very likeable little lady to fame and fortune.
Chapter Seven
Theo swore vehemently as he scanned the official letter that had been delivered that morning. Coming hard on the heels of what that bastard Pengelly had been intimating recently, it smacked of intrigue going on behind his back. If there was one thing to get him riled up, it was that.
As always, when he was upset, his liver was affected, and he went about roaring and cursing at anyone who happened to come within earshot. It felt as if his entire guts were on fire and tied in knots on that fine June morning as his motor roared up to New World.
He scattered gravel in all directions as he hauled on the brake outside the house. He slammed the vehicle door behind him and hammered on the front door, bawling for admittance until Mrs Yardley answered him indignantly.
‘Good morning to ’ee, Mr Theo, sir,’ she began, and then stepped hastily aside as he marched past her, hollering loudly for his cousin.
‘If you’m wanting Mrs Pengelly, you’m out of luck, sir,’ she told him stiffly. ‘She’s gone up to the pottery, and Mr Pengelly’s away at Bodmin with the accountant. There’s only young Master Oliver here and he’s in his room with his books.’
