Searching for a Silver Lining

by Miranda Dickinson

  The landscape on either side of the motorway began to rise up in moorland and hills, vast, open swathes of empty beauty with a faint glimmer of light from far-distant towns huddling in the steep valleys between. Here the man-made motorway seemed at odds with the wildness of nature, but they were forced to co-exist. Mattie stole a glance in the rear-view mirror and saw that Gil, like Reenie in the front passenger seat beside her, was dozing. He looked at peace, his jacket rolled into a makeshift pillow and wedged between his head and the side window, arms folded comfortably across his chest.

  It appeared that even in sleep, Gil and Reenie were diametrically opposed. If Gil was calm, Reenie was anything but. There weren’t many times Mattie was grateful for the volume of Rusty’s engine, but this was an exception to the rule, as Reenie’s loud snores rumbled on. Now Reenie’s insistence on booking a room for each of them at every stop on the tour made sense. Mattie had fought this initially, arguing that it was too expensive and that she and Reenie could share a room, but Reenie would not be swayed.

  ‘I’m paying, so what I say goes,’ she’d said. ‘I haven’t shared a room on tour since my earliest days with Ted Farnsworth and I don’t intend to start now.’

  In the camper van, Reenie sniggered in her sleep and chuntered incoherently. The enormous bag of pills Gaynor had supplied for the next ten days rested in the footwell beside her feet, rattling and bumping as Rusty changed lanes. A blue road sign confirmed it was fifty-five miles to Alnwick. Mattie wriggled her shoulders as she held on to the steering wheel, trying in vain to release the tension there. They had made good time despite Gaynor’s warnings of Reenie’s need for frequent breaks, and she felt as if a large tick had been placed beside the first leg of the journey.

  Tomorrow they would meet Tommy Mullins in person. He’d sounded such a cheeky character from Reenie’s stories that Mattie was looking forward to it immensely. Besides, she wanted to thank him for keeping in touch with The Silver Five – without the updated list of addresses he’d sent in Reenie’s Christmas cards every year, this trip wouldn’t have been possible.

  Pulling into the car park of the hotel at the end of her first day’s driving felt like crossing the finish line at Le Mans. Not only had Rusty made it without so much as a grumble, Mattie had survived the Silver–Kendrick Roadshow and they were all still talking. After the dodgy start that morning, this was definitely cause for celebration.

  ‘Good driving,’ Gil said, patting Mattie’s shoulder as he offered Reenie his arm to walk inside.

  ‘Um, thanks,’ Mattie replied, feeling as if she’d been congratulated by an elderly relative. Was random shoulder-patting in fashion in London?

  Bags safely delivered to bedrooms and Reenie settled in front of an early-evening quiz show with a cup of tea in hers, Mattie and Gil headed back down the corridor towards their own rooms.

  ‘There’s a pub over the road,’ Gil said. ‘Fancy seeing if they do food?’

  ‘Good idea. I could do with a shower and a bit of downtime first, if you don’t mind?’ The thought of relaxing for a while in a blissfully quiet room was what had sustained Mattie during the last hour of their journey, and she wasn’t ready to relinquish that just because she was hungry.

  ‘No problem. I’ll ask at the desk if they can book us a table. Say, eight p.m.?’

  ‘Great.’ They had reached Mattie’s room, but Gil didn’t look as if he was ready to leave yet. ‘Er – this is me.’

  ‘Yes. Sorry. I just wanted to know whether you think this trip will be a success?’

  Was he implying it wouldn’t be? ‘Of course. I wouldn’t have left my business and driven all this way if I didn’t.’

  ‘Right. There’s just a lot riding on this gig. So, what time are we meeting Mr Mullins tomorrow?’

  ‘In the morning.’ Mattie remembered Reenie’s enigmatic answer to the same question earlier: ‘We’re musicians. Any time before midday is an early start for us. We’ll be there and off to the next stop before you know it. Plenty of time.’

  ‘She has arranged a meeting tomorrow, hasn’t she?’ Gil asked with a smile, but Mattie could see genuine concern behind it.

  ‘Yes. Of course. She said it was all sorted.’

  ‘Right. But you don’t actually have a time written down?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Nowhere on the schedule?’

  ‘Tomorrow’s just allocated for the meeting. Then we’re on the road again.’

  ‘Right. But nothing more – specific?’

  Mattie stared at him. ‘Um, no.’

  The possibility of an early roadblock settled on both of them as they stood between their rooms in the boutique hotel’s hallway.

  ‘I suppose we’ll just have to take her word for it?’

  ‘Yes. It’ll all work out, Gil.’

  It was only when she was watching television in her hotel room later that evening after dinner that Mattie realised Reenie had only ever talked about the details of the first meeting – and even those had been sketchy. She picked up her watch from the bedside table, considering a walk down the corridor to Reenie’s room, but saw it was almost midnight. Whatever Reenie said about still being a party animal, Mattie was pretty sure her friend would have tucked herself into bed hours ago.

  It will be okay, she repeated in her mind, the sudden flutter of nerves in her stomach daring to disagree. Everything is going to be okay.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘A Rockin’ Good Way’ – Brook Benton & Dinah Washington

  The house was a large, bay-windowed semi-detached home with an extension where a garage would once have stood. In the new canopy across the entrance and ground-floor windows, smart halogen inset spotlights cast triangles of light on pristine York stone paving and gravel glistening from the recent rain shower.

  ‘Always the showman, our Tommy. Even has to have spotlights on his front porch,’ Reenie chuckled.

  Mattie smiled at her. ‘Right, then. Are you ready, Miss Silver?’

  Reenie blew out a levelling breath, and grinned back. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  Standing on the doorstep as Gil rang the bell, Mattie found herself surprisingly nervous. From the moment Tommy Mullins answered the door, their mission was officially under way. While Reenie had assured her over and over that she and Tommy remained friends – and the apology would be a mere formality – Mattie understood the gravity of what they were doing. Tommy might have stayed in touch with Reenie for sixty years, but agreeing to perform with her again was a world away from a polite Christmas letter once a year. She glanced at Reenie – but if the old lady felt the same, it was well hidden beneath her proud stance and eager smile.

  The door was opened by a younger man than they’d all expected, and it was clear from his clouded expression that he didn’t recognise Reenie.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Hello, love. We’re looking for Tommy. Is he in?’

  Mattie saw the rise of Gil’s eyebrows, and looked quickly back at the bearded forty-something standing in the open doorway.

  ‘Dad? He’s down at Barter Books.’

  ‘Is he? Good.’ The briefest hint of colour washed under Reenie’s powdered foundation. ‘Do you know when he’ll be back?’

  ‘Not till later tonight. He has a little gig there – sorry, do I know you?’

  Gil was bristling beside Mattie like a building storm cloud threatening rain.

  ‘Reenie Silver, love. From your pa’s old band.’

  The man’s eyes widened. ‘No way! Dad’ll be chuffed you came for his gig.’

  ‘His gig?’ Gil repeated, but Reenie shifted position, bodily blocking him.

  ‘Yes. Of course. That’s right. I don’t suppose you could point us in the right direction, eh?’

  ‘She never arranged to meet him,’ Gil growled, as soon as they were on the road heading into Alnwick.

  ‘Oh shush,’ Reenie countered. ‘He has a gig. What better providence, eh? Another sign we’re meant to be doing this.’

&
nbsp; ‘Forget signs. What about actual, hard facts?’

  ‘Okay, enough now,’ Mattie rushed, fearful that a high noon standoff was about to ensue. ‘We know where he is, and his son thinks he’ll be happy to see us. Let’s just – focus on that, yes?’

  Reenie and Gil harrumphed their acceptance like a pair of grumpy teenagers. Mattie took a breath and focused on the directions Gavin Mullins had sketched out for them on the back of one of his father’s gig flyers. Maybe her companions’ differences would be ironed out as they got to know one another. If not, it was going to be a very long ten days . . .

  Barter Books was situated in an old railway station and was the kind of bookshop you could lose yourself in. As soon as they entered, Mattie wanted to wander around its gorgeously stacked shelves, inhaling the scent of old books. Grandpa Joe used to say bookshops contained a special kind of magic – one that made it impossible to resist wandering in and taking your time. ‘A good bookshop calls you in and won’t let you leave in a hurry,’ he’d say, weaving Mattie and Joanna around the bookcases at Severnside Book Emporium in Ironbridge when they were little.

  In the old waiting room chairs had been arranged in a little half-moon around a small stage area marked out by three grey fold-back speakers. A harassed-looking woman in her twenties was trying to unfurl a looped microphone lead, which twisted more with each attempt.

  ‘What are you doing with that, Elsa?’ a cheery voice boomed from behind a bookcase and a broad-shouldered man appeared, his luxuriant sweep of pure white hair the only indicator of his true age. He reminded Mattie of Tom Jones, with his swagger and resonant voice. But then she saw his face and recognised him from Reenie’s photographs. ‘The knitting group meets here tomorrow.’

  The young woman giggled. ‘I can never get these straight.’

  ‘Typical vocalist,’ Tommy Mullins jibed. ‘You give them one job . . .’

  Mattie turned to Reenie, standing beside her. She seemed lost in thought, all the bravado she’d shown during the journey gone. ‘Reenie?’

  ‘He’s taller,’ she said, her voice small and far away.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I don’t remember him being so tall . . .’

  Gil exchanged glances with Mattie. ‘Shall I go over?’

  Reenie immediately snapped out of her daydream, shouldering past him. ‘Not likely. This is my gig, kiddo.’ Striding down the makeshift aisle in the centre of the chairs, she pushed her shoulders back, her voice loud and commanding. ‘Better make sure there’s some reverb on that mic, girl. Tommy likes a bit of echo.’

  Elsa and Tommy looked up, the older man slowly shaking his head.

  ‘Bloody hell. In she walks . . .’

  Reenie stopped a few paces from him, her broad smile confident, arms spreading wide like a star welcoming her adoring public. ‘You know me, Tom. Always one for the grand entrance.’

  ‘Aye. And the speedy exit an’ all.’

  Mattie saw Reenie’s shoulders stiffen. ‘That too, kid.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Coming to see your gig, aren’t I?’

  ‘Give over, Reenie Silver.’ The pair observed one another, and Mattie wondered what they were thinking. Almost a lifetime had passed since their last meeting – what had changed, and what hadn’t?

  ‘Believe what you like, love,’ Reenie shrugged. ‘So, do I get a hug or not?’

  Tommy chuckled and stepped over the fold-back speakers towards her. In his hearty embrace Reenie almost disappeared, a brief exchange of words muffled as she spoke against his chest. Mattie found herself smiling as she watched.

  Tommy had been the first member of The Silver Five Reenie had told her about in the early days of their friendship. Whenever she mentioned him her eyes twinkled, hinting at the mischief they got up to: ‘I think we drove Rico mad. We were forever being told off for playing pranks and giggling when we should’ve been serious. I reckon we were as bad as each other. One time in Aldershot we upset the stage manager so much he nearly kicked the whole band out. I can still hear him now: “This is a place for serious artistes, not a bunch of kids!” But that’s what we were really, wasn’t it? Tommy was the kid brother I never had. I loved him for that . . .’

  ‘I’m made up you’re here,’ Tommy grinned broadly over Reenie’s shoulder at Mattie and Gil. ‘Are these your kids?’

  ‘Not likely! Tommy, I’d like you to meet my friend Mattie Bell. And this is Gil Kendrick – Jake’s grandson.’

  ‘I can see it!’ Tommy surveyed Gil with a wide stare as he shook his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure, sir. Your grandfather was a great man.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Take a seat, all of you. There’s a good café in the building. Why don’t I pop there and get us all some coffee?’

  ‘I’ll help,’ Mattie said, seeing her chance. She needed to know what lay ahead, as Reenie’s prediction of this meeting had proved worryingly rose-tinted and it was blatantly obvious Tommy hadn’t known they were coming.

  ‘Lovely.’ Tommy smiled as she joined him. ‘I’ll just grab my wallet from the car. Walk with me?’

  Outside the rain had stopped at last, brave shafts of sunlight breaking through the heavy grey. The air smelled fresh, and Mattie felt a shiver pass along her skin.

  ‘She’s on form,’ Tommy said, pocketing his wallet from the glove compartment of a smart-looking estate car. ‘Girl’s got balls rocking up here, I’ll give her that.’

  Mattie gave an apologetic smile. ‘She seemed to think it would be easy.’

  ‘Aye, I’ll bet she did. But that’s our Reenie for you. Truth is, I’m glad to see her. But don’t you tell her that yet. Best to let her sweat a little, right?’

  Given the sudden nature of their arrival, Mattie could hardly protest. ‘Fair enough.’

  Walking back to the station buffet, they passed a stack of old railway sleepers, the ruts and marks of ages past smoothed and polished. Mattie thought of Tommy, Reenie and the others – could time heal the deep rifts between them?

  Once inside the small station café, Tommy turned to her. ‘So, what does Reenie Silver want – really?’

  ‘To apologise, mainly.’

  Tommy observed her with an amused smile. ‘Mainly?’

  Mattie hesitated – should she let Reenie present the gig proposal? But if Tommy was more difficult than Reenie had anticipated, how likely was the tour to succeed with others who had more of a grudge against her?

  ‘We want to reunite The Silver Five.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘No. We’re proposing to put on the gig that didn’t happen in 1956, on the sixtieth anniversary. Reenie wanted to do more than apologise to you all, and this was her idea.’

  ‘Well, I never. Good job I’m not a betting man: I’d never have guessed that in a million.’

  ‘So, what do you think?’

  ‘Me? I think it’s barmy, love.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And it’s Reenie all over. Daft bat.’

  They walked back in heavy silence, Mattie’s nerves on edge. Before they entered the old waiting room, she held back.

  ‘Tommy?’

  ‘Yes, pet?’

  ‘Be straight with me: what are our chances of making this happen?’

  ‘Honestly? I’ve no idea. Reenie caused a lot of upset, for some of us a great deal more than others. But I’ll tell you what I do know: it won’t happen if she just strolls up with no warning. Not with Chuck, and definitely not with June. That’s the kind of attitude that’ll blow it out of the water before it’s even launched.’

  ‘So what should we do?’

  Tommy shrugged. ‘Let’s get these back and have a proper talk, okay?’

  ‘Here he is! My favourite Geordie crooner!’ Reenie pushed herself to her feet, raising her cane in greeting. ‘Now have we got an offer for you . . .’

  The old man held up his hand. ‘You can stop right there, Reen. Your wee girl here’s told me all about it.’

 
Reenie’s scarlet lips pulled into a pout aimed squarely at Mattie for stealing her thunder. ‘Charming.’

  ‘Now, let me tell you what’s going to happen. First off, you’re going to shut up, Reenie Silver, and listen to me. Now, I love you, but you hurt me. And you hurt our friends. And I think you need to understand that. So I’m going to tell you all about it. Then you can apologise. And then I’m going to tell you how I can rescue your daft plan.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘(Sh-Boom) Life Could Be a Dream’ – The Chords

  By the time they arrived back at the hotel, Mattie was exhausted. Tommy certainly hadn’t given Reenie an easy time, and Mattie and Gil had watched in stunned silence as he had told her exactly how The Silver Five had crumbled in the wake of her departure. The picture Tommy painted wasn’t pretty.

  ‘We’d all been so excited about that gig. You remember the hours we chatted about it beforehand, don’t you? Or maybe you don’t. Maybe all you were thinking of was yourself.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Wasn’t it? Then why never speak to June again, or Alys? Why refuse every invitation I ever sent you to meet up? I know Chuck saw you later – and that was another mess muggins here had to sort. But if you were happy with your decision, why shut us all out afterwards? I think you were embarrassed. I think you knew you’d made a mistake. But you were too proud to own up to it. Pride’s always been your problem, girl.’

  ‘I do regret it. That’s why I want to get us together now.’

  ‘And you think they’ll listen?’

  Reenie had swallowed hard, and Mattie had found herself clenching her fists in her lap to resist going to her friend’s aid. ‘I – I don’t know . . .’

  ‘We didn’t just split up that night. We imploded. It was just so sad. And Rico dropped us like a bunch of hot rocks. So much for a supportive manager.’