by Rosie Archer
A main road followed the beach at Southsea, winding its way down to South Parade pier. The road where Syd parked ran parallel to the beach road and it was there, set back in gardens, that tall detached houses stood.
Her first thought was, no wonder she and Blackie had so little in common apart from the girls. If he lived here he was far above her station in life. Not that she was ashamed of her little rented terraced house in Gosport, certainly not. It was clear, though, that Blackie was used to better things.
Jo and Rainey got out of the van before Syd came around to help them. Rainey stood awestruck. ‘Fancy living here,’ she said. ‘And they’ve got that big studio in the heart of town.’
‘Make a lot of money and you, too, could live in a place like this,’ said Syd. He was holding the box of chocolates.
The gravelled driveway ended in a large wooden porch. Jo was just about to use the lion’s head knocker when the door was opened by Herbert, with a smile that practically sliced his face in half. ‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘So glad you could make it. You’re our last guests to arrive.’ After taking their coats and hanging them in a cupboard by the front door, Herbert led them towards double doors, which were opened wide. Before Jo saw her friends she heard Maud’s strident voice obviously answering a question.
‘The choir is a lifeline to us. For an hour or so we can forget the war. You get out of it what you put in, and the money we collect helps those worse off than ourselves. Alice Wilkes is a saint.’
Jo raised her hand in greeting to the room full of people but her eyes were drawn to Madame. She made her way over to the imposing figure sitting in a velvet chair near a huge open fire. ‘Thank you for inviting us.’
Madame, dressed in grey, her hair elaborately set, said, ‘I’m so glad you could come, my dear. You won’t mind if I don’t get up? My joints are pretending they don’t belong to me today.’ Jo smiled at her, shook her head, and saw the kindness shining from her button-black eyes. ‘Go and talk to your friends, my dear. I’m sure you’ve all lots to speak about. Chat away to friends of mine too. Just some people in the business who wish you well.’
The fire crackled. Jo noticed sprigs of holly tucked about the huge oil painting above the fireplace. She gasped – the girl in the painting was incredibly beautiful, her dark hair hanging about the shoulders of her décolleté gown, her dark eyes shining with vitality.
Jo looked down at Madame, who smiled. ‘Yes, I was beautiful once,’ she said. ‘And I know it’s important to grab happiness when it comes your way.’
Jo wasn’t sure what her answer to that should be, but luckily Syd held out the chocolates and said, ‘Thank you for allowing me to come.’
‘Dear boy, how very kind of you,’ said Madame, her eyes twinkling almost as brightly as they did in the painting.
Jo looked around for Rainey and saw all three young women talking animatedly near a large sideboard where drinks were set out.
‘Go and help yourselves to drinks,’ Madame said. ‘We’re not standing on ceremony today.’
‘Thank you,’ said Jo, and hurried over. She didn’t want Rainey, Ivy or Bea to make fools of themselves.
‘No drinking!’ Her words were sharp.
Rainey looked at her mother in surprise and alarm. ‘I was just about to pour orange for us,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry, love,’ said Jo, chastened. A figure materialized at her side.
‘Is a little wine allowed at the buffet?’ Blackie stood next to her.
‘Buffet? Not a sit-down meal?’ The words left her mouth without Jo thinking. Blackie was looking incredibly handsome in a well-cut dark suit. He was staring past her and asking, ‘Whisky or a beer?’
‘A beer would be fine,’ said Syd. ‘Jo doesn’t encourage Rainey to drink wine.’
Jo was about to snap that she could speak for herself when she thought better of it. Syd was only echoing her own words. Though it wasn’t Rainey she worried about, but Bea. The less said about that the better, she thought. Blackie was unaware of Bea’s digression from the straight and narrow, and she’d like it kept that way.
Blackie handed round drinks, poured her a port-and-lemon and was talking about the meal. ‘Madame doesn’t venture into the kitchen much nowadays so the food has been prepared by a caterer.’
‘I’m sure it will be lovely,’ said Jo. She smiled at Blackie, then moved across the room to talk to Maud, who was standing alone, Eddie having sought out the three girls. He was hanging on Ivy’s every word.
‘Bit posh in here,’ said Maud. She patted her hair, curled especially for the occasion. ‘Did you see those signed photographs of music-hall stars covering the walls of the hall?’
‘Not really,’ Jo said. ‘I was more interested in not tripping up and making a fool of myself.’
‘Never mind about you making a fool of yourself! Will you look at that Della? How does she have the nerve to wear that moth-eaten fox fur today, of all days?’
Jo looked over to where Ivy’s mother was chatting to Madame. They appeared to be deep in conversation. Jo saw Madame wave Herbert out of the room. Mystified, she edged away from Maud, leaving Syd to chat to her.
Bert stood with a pint in his hand. ‘They seem to be getting on well,’ Jo said to him.
‘That’s not the half of it.’ Bert smiled. ‘The old woman’s sent her hubby upstairs to get something.’
Before Jo could ask any more questions, back into the room came Herbert, with a red fox fur slung over his arm.
‘It’s gorgeous!’ Della promptly dumped her own fur in Bert’s free hand and swung the glossy, shiny-eyed auburn one about herself. She raised her shoulder and the magnificent fur caressed her neck. She closed her eyes in ecstasy.
‘Keep it, dear girl. It suits you far better than it ever did me,’ said Madame. Della promptly bent down, threw her arms about the woman’s neck and kissed her papery cheek.
‘Well, I never,’ Jo heard Maud exclaim.
Herbert rattled a spoon against a glass and everyone stopped talking to pay attention. ‘If you’ll follow me to the kitchen you’ll find a buffet meal set out. We thought today would be a good day to wish the Bluebird Girls a happy future in show business. Complimentary tickets have been issued to Alice Wilkes for her choir.’ At this news there were cheers from Jo and Maud. ‘We have also had good returns from box-office bookings.’ This time Jo heard clapping. ‘So, good people, help yourselves to food and drink.’
More clapping followed Herbert as he left the room.
Jo didn’t go with the first wave of people eager to eat. She took the time to talk to several others she hadn’t met before. Wandering, she came upon Bea standing alone, watching birds pecking crumbs off a garden table.
‘Not choosing from the buffet, Bea?’ Jo hadn’t before noticed Bea’s pasty face. ‘I gather there’s a good spread, even chicken!’
‘I feel a bit queasy,’ Bea said. ‘Eddie was treating the roads like a racetrack driving over here. I expect I’ll be fine by the time everyone starts on the sweet things.’ Bea smiled at her.
Bea looked like a child when she didn’t plaster her face with heavy make-up, Jo thought. It was barely four months since she had been involved in that dreadful incident behind the Fox. Jo applauded her for her courage in putting it behind her and for all her hard work in wanting to make a success of her life.
‘Are you worried about appearing in front of a theatre audience?’
‘Not really,’ Bea said. ‘We’ve been over the songs so many times I just want everything to go well. Of course I worry about letting Ivy and Rainey down . . .’
Her voice tailed off.
‘I’m sure the Bluebirds are going to be enormously popular.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Good people wouldn’t spend money on you if they didn’t think you were worth it. Madame knows a sure thing when she sees it.’
Jo saw her eyes were filled with tears. ‘I really don’t want to let anyone down,’ Bea said. ‘Honestly.�
��
Jo couldn’t help herself. She put her arms around Bea. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘You’ll be fine.’
Chapter Forty-six
Boxing Day and the New Year passed for Jo without incident. The girls returned to work at the factory and no one was more surprised than they were when they requested time off and it was granted.
Jo saw nothing of Blackie. She went out for drinks with Syd. Sometimes she walked round for a chat with Maud. Every morning she rose early and cycled to Alverstoke to take charge of the daily newspapers. Mr and Mrs Harrington were almost as excited as Jo about the revue at the King’s Theatre. She’d given them complimentary tickets. One afternoon she and Maud went to visit Solomon. Jo played two games of draughts with him in the Leisure Room; Solomon won both.
The girls practised, not in the David Bogue Hall but upstairs in Bea’s bedroom. Although she moaned about the racket, as she called it, secretly Maud was happy they were there. Nineteen forty-one already looked like becoming a year to remember.
On the morning of the matinee, Blackie drove over to Gosport to collect Jo, Rainey, Bea and Ivy. ‘In the theatre everyone rehearses in the mornings,’ he said.
‘Can we watch the other artists?’ asked Ivy.
‘Of course,’ he answered.
‘I’m not sure I want to see Little Annette,’ said Rainey.
‘She may not be a likeable person but she knows her job,’ said Blackie. ‘Her timing is superb. You could all learn from her.’
Ivy pulled a face at Rainey.
‘You’re sharing a dressing room with some of the showgirls. I’ve already dropped off your outfits. Don’t forget your make-up. Remember how I showed you how to make the best of yourselves . . .’’
‘What about their hair? Tied back? French plaits?’ Jo interrupted. ‘Remember they’re wearing RAF costumes.’
‘I’d prefer each of them to keep it quite natural,’ he said. ‘Ivy has a distinct long bob, Rainey has her wild auburn locks and Bea’s the blonde with curls. They have their own styles and each is an eye-catching beauty.’
Ivy giggled, blushing. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘You won’t be seeing yourselves the way the audience will,’ he said. ‘Trust me.’
When they arrived at the theatre, acts were already in progress.
‘Have you ever been backstage before?’ Blackie asked.
‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’ exclaimed Ivy. ‘It’s got a special smell, a special feeling – and to think we’re going to be part of it.’ She waved her arms, encompassing the stage, the seats, the noise.
‘Just listen to the orchestra tuning up! It’s so exciting!’ exclaimed Rainey.
‘One day you’ll think all this is as natural as breathing,’ promised Blackie. ‘Later on, nearer lunchtime, I’ll have tea and sandwiches brought in. I don’t want you starving to death. It’s not good to perform on a full stomach, but tonight I’ll stand you all a slap-up meal.’
Jo laughed. ‘I don’t mind if it’s pork faggots with onion gravy, corned beef hash or liver casserole – I can eat them at any time.’
‘Not all at once, I hope,’ said Blackie.
‘It even smells different back here,’ said Ivy, taking a deep breath.
‘It’s a special mix of excitement, greasepaint, hope and newly painted scenery,’ Blackie said. ‘Look, I’ve brought you here early so you can get to know what a real theatre looks like and how it works. Each of the people here has a certain job to do. They’re special. You, however, are only passing through so respect them.’ He paused. ‘A little bit about the King’s. Noël Coward and Ivor Novello have played here. Built in 1907, it seats sixteen hundred people, who, incidentally, at the matinee performance are going to love you. Local girls made good – Joe Public will take you to their hearts. Now Jo and I are going to talk about what happens when this week is over. Trust me, the pair of us have only your best interests at heart. Later, after a rehearsal, you’ll be free to polish up bits you feel need a special shine. Jo and I will be here. You need to be ready, dressed and made up, in the dressing room when I come to you.’
There was silence. Jo saw the three girls had taken in every word.
‘I need to talk to some people so Jo and I will be sitting down there for a while.’ He moved his arm towards the front seats. ‘Feel free to wander, or to sit and watch the rehearsals.’
Jo watched the three walk away. She could almost feel the excitement pouring off them.
The rest of the morning passed as if on wings.
*
The patrons were in their seats, the lights went down and the show began. The heavy curtains swung back, the orchestra played and the excitement in the air was almost palpable. Jo took a deep breath and immediately she knew what actors meant when she’d heard talk of magic in the air backstage.The first half of the matinee performance had gone exceedingly well.
A couple of the poodles went on strike, refusing to cooperate with their owner, but the audience understood and loved the act all the more. Little Annette was perfect, though Jo thought her act very similar to the one that had provided her with a certificate at Fareham Festival.
Blackie had told her he’d collect the girls from the dressing room.
Jo now stood in the wings. She’d draped the glittery dresses to her satisfaction to enable her to get the right one on the right girl.
In a short while, the moment they had all worked for so hard would arrive. She saw the girls walking towards her. So grown up, she thought. But wait a moment . . . there were only two.
‘Where’s Bea?’ Jo knew she mustn’t appear worried. Surely none of them would jeopardize this wonderful moment.
‘She’s being sick, Mum.’ Rainey’s eyes lifted heavenwards but she had a smile on her face as if she wasn’t at all perturbed.
‘Last-minute nerves,’ said Blackie. ‘We’ve got a full house.’ He shrugged. ‘I know established stars who heave up before each show.’
Something clicked in Jo’s brain. She pushed the thought away, refusing to believe it. Bea’s outfits having to be let out, now this sickness?
Quickly she added up the timespan in her head. Bea’s terrible experience was how many months ago?
No! No! No!
How she hadn’t spoken those three words out loud, Jo didn’t know.
And then Bea’s voice calling, ‘I’m here, Jo!’
The bell had gone, warning the patrons the interval was over.
Jo looked at each of the girls in turn.
Not a sign of nerves. In fact, they looked like the most fantastic thing in the world was about to happen to them, as indeed it was.
The master of ceremonies was introducing the Bluebird Girls – them! Blackie put his finger to his lips. Silence backstage now.
The girls walked confidently onto the stage.
The curtain began to rise.
*
This was the moment Rainey had waited for all of her life.
She could feel the excitement and longing oozing from her friends either side of her. In the audience she could see familiar faces smiling. Her heart was beating fast. The band started to play. Rainey gave a big smile to Bea, then to Ivy, and once again she was amazed at how wonderful they looked in their blue uniforms. She turned to her audience, opened her mouth and began to sing.
As one song changed to another Rainey felt the meanings of the words sweep over her. She was touched by the sadness in Ivy’s voice, then transported by the bubbly quality in Bea’s as she began singing ‘Tea for Two’, practically inviting the whole theatre to believe that tea meant so much more – and the audience loved it!
Rainey took a deep breath. It was time to change outfits. She walked to the side of the stage and, within moments, returned in the glittery costume that was to be their trademark trick for the final song, ‘Over the Rainbow’.
Amid cheers for Rainey, Ivy proudly stepped away to the wings.
Yells and claps announced her quick return. Rainey
and Ivy smiled at each other as they continued singing. Bea then left the stage.
Rainey hoped they’d left enough time for Bea to be helped into the beautiful blue dress.
Rainey kept her smile firmly in place as she sang but the end of the song was fast approaching and still there was no sign of Bea. She chanced a look at Ivy and could see she, too, was trying hard to disguise her worry. Panic began to rise . . .
And there she was! Tripping back onstage in her high heels, her voluptuous body stuffed into and practically overflowing the glittery material, Bea came to a stop beside Rainey and Ivy and the audience went wild!
The orchestra paused.
Long enough for the patrons to settle, to wonder, perhaps, what was coming next, and then the beautiful music started up and the three girls began singing. They felt the words, and the audience knew and felt them, too.
Towards the end of the song the first red rose fell upon the stage, followed by others thrown in appreciation.
As the final notes and the girls’ voices faded, the theatre was practically shaking with applause.
Rainey, Ivy and Bea held hands, bowed, and tears of joy rolled down their cheeks.
Acknowledgements
Thank you Therese Keating, your input means such a lot to me. Thank you Hazel Orme for doing what I can’t. Thank you Juliet Burton, best agent ever. Thank you Quercus for all the people who work so hard to put my books in front of my readers. Thank you, dear readers.
I’ve taken the liberty of modifying details, facts and events to suit my storyline. My characters bear no resemblance to any living persons.
Table of Contents
The Bluebird Girls
Also By
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
