Gil held open the door to the stairwell. ‘I hope so. We can’t afford any more episodes like tonight.’
Mattie felt her shoulders bristle as she walked past him. You didn’t see how scared she was, she wanted to say. Have you any idea what this trip means to her? ‘We won’t have any more.’
‘We’d better not. I’ve put my neck on the line for this gig. Promotion, press stuff, not to mention the cost of set dressing and bringing in a swing band. My brother thinks I’m nuts. If it doesn’t make money, the club could be in real trouble.’
At the bottom of the stairs, Mattie snapped. Had Gil even heard anything she’d said? ‘And that’s what matters, is it? Your club making money?’
Gil stared at her as if he’d been slapped. ‘No – that’s not what I meant . . .’
But Mattie had heard enough. She didn’t need to stand and justify Reenie to anyone, least of all him. ‘Look, Reenie will be okay. The tour is still on. Your precious investment is safe.’
‘Hey – I . . .’
‘I’m sorry, Gil. I’m tired and I really want to go to bed.’
‘Of course. Forgive me.’ He ducked his head and let her walk on. ‘Mattie?’
She paused in the doorway. ‘Yes?’
‘Just tell me one thing. What’s in this for you?’
‘I want to help Reenie.’ It was the truth, but it felt like it hid a mountain of other reasons.
‘Why?’
Would he even understand if she tried to explain? For a moment, she was tempted to share it all. But weariness won. ‘It’s too late now. Can I tell you later?’
‘Sure. Um, goodnight. Sleep well.’
London, 22 March 1956
I am in trouble with Uncle Charles. He found out about my visiting the Palm Grove with Len when I should have been studying. Called me into his office this morning and laid down the law. No dancing, no music and no girls until my first set of exams are done.
He hasn’t told Mother or Father. For this I have to be grateful. But months living here with no light relief will be hell. Besides, the club is filled with pretty girls. I’ve never known what to say to ladies before, but London makes me feel bold enough to try. As I said to Len at the weekend, I only have a year here, so I intend to make the most of it.
Lying low for the time being. But I will return to the Palm Grove – soon . . .
Mattie lay back against the pillows, looking across the pages of Grandpa Joe’s diary to the orange glow of the streetlights outside that flooded her darkened room. Joe had been careful to leave this incident out of his reminiscences of his London year. She knew he had practically idolised his uncle, seeing him as more of a father than his own, who had been famously distant from his children. Uncle Charles had the exotic, privileged life Grandpa Joe had dreamed of as a young man, and while he’d never matched Charles’s success in business, he attributed much of his success in life to things his uncle had taught him.
But he hadn’t just visited the Palm Grove a few times, like he’d always told Mattie. What else had he hidden from her? Smiling to herself, she closed the diary and dropped it on top of her holdall, already packed for the morning’s departure. Today had been a day of revelations: what would the next two days in Cambridge bring?
Chapter Eighteen
‘C’mon Everybody’ – Eddie Cochran
The next morning was bright and clear, with a distinct chill in the air. Rusty’s heaters took a while to be coaxed into life, meaning that his passengers spent the first part of the journey wrapped up in extra layers, their breath fogging up the windows obscuring the view. It was only when they had been travelling for an hour that Mattie realised the dark blue chunky knit blanket Reenie had tucked over her knees was the throw from her hotel bedroom in Alnwick.
‘Reenie, did you . . . ?’
‘It’s so cosy,’ she protested. ‘Much better than my one at Beauvale.’
Mattie saw Gil’s grin reflected in the rear-view mirror, but turned her attention to the elderly cat-burglar in her passenger seat. ‘You can’t just nick stuff!’
‘Let’s call it Alnwick’s contribution to our groundbreaking road trip. Look, I’ll thank them in me speech at the gig, if it’ll make you feel better. Things are meant to be nicked from hotel rooms, Mattie.’
‘No, they’re not.’
‘Hotels expect it. I’ve all sorts of mementoes from me time on the road. I once swiped a spoon from the Ritz. I’ve a whisky glass from the Hôtel Bristol, Paris and a very swanky pair of slippers from the Hôtel Cap in Antibes, when I was in Cannes in ’64. And I’ve the loveliest robe from the Regent Beverly Wilshire in Hollywood. And now a lovely comfy blanket from the Rose Grove Hotel, Alnwick.’
‘Reenie, this tour is meant to focus on you putting right past wrongs, not creating new ones.’
‘Oh, give it a rest, kid! I’ve a hangover the size of a mammoth and I’m too old to worry about a bit of dodgy pilfering. Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll leave all my ill-gotten hotel gains to you in my will, so you can take them all back to where they belong for me. How’s that, hmm? You could do with a bit of an adventure. Live a little.’
A snort of laughter from the back seat made Reenie smile.
‘You see? Even his nibs back there agrees with me.’
‘Let’s just say I’m not surprised you have a criminal past,’ Gil said. It was a relief to hear him joining in the joke. Mattie wondered if he was still smarting from what she’d said to him yesterday. He had avoided her gaze this morning at breakfast, but at least he was making conversation. It was a start.
The journey passed in companionable chatter, Reenie treating them to more stories of her long and illustrious career. With the exception of her hangover, she appeared unscathed by the events of last night, and Mattie wondered how much of it she remembered. When Gil decided to ask about her unorthodox song choices at the karaoke, she hesitated before answering.
‘It was the Nineties set, wasn’t it?’ She rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘Always bad when I resort to that for my party piece.’
‘How do you even know those songs?’
Reenie groaned. ‘When I came back from America it was my manager’s clever idea for relaunching my career. Do an album of pop covers, he said, something they won’t be expecting. Well, it had worked for Tom Jones and Lulu, hadn’t it? Honestly, kids, worst decision I ever made. We spent four months holed up in a drab little studio in Camberwell doing these covers and then the record company refused to release it. Last thing I ever did for them. Still loved the songs, though. I think I have the tapes somewhere, if you ever fancy a listen.’
‘I doubt they could beat the live version,’ Gil said. ‘Sorry, Reenie.’
‘Cheeky git.’ Reenie folded her arms, but her smile betrayed her.
They arrived in Cambridge four and a half hours later, booking into their new hotel just before three p.m. With Gil heading off to catch up on work calls and Reenie retiring to her room for an afternoon nap, Mattie took the opportunity for some time on her own. Travelling was fun, but everything about it was loud and intrusive: the burr of tyres on tarmac, Rusty’s repertoire of clanks, rattles and bumps, the chatter when her travelling companions were awake and their collected snores when they weren’t. Being alone in the fresh air with her own thoughts and the gentle hum of Cambridge streets was Mattie’s idea of heaven.
The hotel was on the outer edge of the city on a major road, so it would be easy to find her way back. Thrilled to be exploring a new place, Mattie let herself wander through the streets with no particular plan. She found interesting alleys, tiny artisan craft and food shops and spent a happy hour riffling through vintage copies of the Lady and Good Housekeeping in an old bookshop. Heading to an independent café across the road to read her purchases over coffee, she noticed a tiny vintage goods shop next door. She couldn’t resist peeking inside, imagining Joanna’s amusement as she did so.
‘Most people would get as far away from work as possible when they have time off. Not
you. You’re obsessed.’
‘I probably am. I love what I do.’
She smiled as the familiar aroma of the shop met her. The smell of mothballs and memories, as Laurie had once described it. And she was right. Being surrounded by old garments, hats and bags made her feel as if she were travelling back in time, a thousand stories to discover packed into the overstuffed rails and crates.
As she browsed, her thoughts drifted to the night before. It had been so strange to see Reenie and Gil in a different light: Reenie so scared and suddenly doubtful of her own ability, and Gil the hard-nosed businessman who cared more about the gig than any of the performers.
Wait. That’s not fair, is it?
Had she been too hard on him last night? What if he had been scared, too? The thought sat uneasily on Mattie’s shoulders. Despite his jokes with Reenie on the journey down, he hadn’t looked her in the eye when he’d said he wanted to catch up on work. Her hand rested on the green velvet of a 1930s evening coat and she remembered their discussion about the stage curtains at Kendrick’s. He’d been so animated when he talked about preserving his grandfather’s club. If he cared half as much about his business as Mattie did for hers, why wouldn’t he be worried?
Chastened by the realisation, she turned to leave the shop when a flash of red from a high shelf caught her eye. It was perfect – a peace offering in faded red felt with a long black tassel.
She was halfway back to the hotel when a familiar voice called her name. Turning back, she saw Gil jogging towards her.
‘I’m glad I caught you,’ he said, a slight pinkness to his cheeks from running. ‘I was just going to get a coffee. Would you like one?’
Mattie’s fingers closed around the string handles of the bag from the vintage shop. ‘Love to.’
They walked a little way until they found a café overlooking a beautiful leafy park. The late-afternoon sun had broken free of the bank of cloud that had hung over the city since they arrived, bringing groups of students out to gather in the dappled sunlight beneath ancient lime and oak trees. Mattie found a table in the single bay window while Gil ordered coffee. He returned with a handful of cutlery and a bright yellow rubber duck.
‘Our order number. Cute, huh?’
‘Maybe you should get some for Kendrick’s.’
‘I think Colm would definitely kick me out if I suggested that.’ He rubbed his thumb along his jaw and the direct stare Mattie had first seen at the club was back. ‘Hey, about last night . . .’
‘Gil, you don’t have to . . .’
‘No, I do, Mattie. I was out of order. I do care about Reenie, but she gave me a shock last night. I’ve never seen her out of control before.’
‘Me either.’
‘I’ll admit I was worried. But the way you were with her last night, getting her to leave that pub and come with us – you were great. And I should have supported you.’
‘You did. There’s no way I could’ve got her back to the hotel on my own.’
A small smile played on Gil’s lips. ‘She’s surprisingly strong for a little old lady. You know what I mean, though. I’m sorry.’
‘I was rude to you last night. I was tired and scared but that doesn’t excuse how I spoke to you. So,’ she took the vintage shop bag from the chair beside her and handed it to Gil, ‘this is to say sorry.’
He frowned as he peered inside, then burst out laughing as he pulled out the red felt fez. ‘Oh wow – where did you find this?’
‘A vintage clothes shop – yes, I know, busman’s holiday and all that. I thought it could help with your Tommy Cooper routines.’
‘I’ve wanted one of these for years.’ He smiled, tipped the fez onto his head at an angle and gave a deep chuckle like his idol. ‘You want a bit of Tommy? “Now here’s a little trick I’d like to show you now which I picked up. I don’t know who dropped it . . .”’
At dinner that evening, Mattie noticed Reenie watching her and Gil as they relayed the events of the afternoon.
‘. . . And then half the customers in the café started laughing. Honestly, Reenie, it was hilarious.’
‘I wasn’t really expecting an audience.’
‘Don’t give me that. You loved every minute of it.’
Gil shrugged. ‘Maybe we all have a bit of a performer in us, eh, Ms Silver?’
‘You should mind yourself, Gil. That bug’s addictive when it bites.’ She raised an eyebrow at Mattie. ‘Maybe our Mr Kendrick is a bit of a dark horse. You should watch him, kid.’
Chapter Nineteen
‘Mean Mama Blues’ – Ronnie Ray
‘Wouldn’t it have made more sense to start in Cambridge and then head north for the eastern leg of the trip?’ Gil asked next morning, as they set off for the meeting Reenie seemed to have been dreading the most.
Reenie grimaced in the front seat. ‘It would if I was good friends with June Knight. I needed a friendly face first.’
‘You and June didn’t get on?’
‘Not really. It’s what happens when you get thrown together in a band. Rico knew June from way back. She was singing with the first dance band he managed, and he’d always promised her he’d keep her in mind when he started putting projects together. Trouble was, then he met me and changed his mind. June thought I’d muscled in on her starring role.’
‘And had you?’
‘Gil . . .’
‘No, it’s a fair question, Mattie. Maybe I did, son. I was seventeen years old and thought everything was fair in business. Rico didn’t let on he knew her until we’d recorded our first song. I just figured she was a backing singer. I didn’t know she’d been his first protégé. By the time I’d clocked what was happening it was too late to change anything. And I wasn’t about to let her have my place in the group. We were called The Silver Five, not The Knight Five. That’s just the way it was.’
The tall copper beech trees at the end of June Knight’s drive seemed to part like stage curtains as they approached her house. It was a beautiful Edwardian villa in pale stone, rising from the perfect stripes of a pristine, carefully clipped lawn. Reenie fell silent, her crestfallen expression revealing that her less-than-magnanimous hopes for June’s residence had been dashed against the smooth limestone masonry.
When Rusty was parked, Mattie clambered out, shaking the creases from her clothes and stretching before heading for the front door. Gil was about to ring the bell when he looked over his shoulder.
‘Hang on, where’s the star of our show?’
Mattie looked back to see Reenie still seated in the camper van. She was staring straight ahead, her only movement a rhythmic wringing of her hands. Mattie hurried back across the drive.
‘Reenie? Are you ready?’
Reenie looked petrified – the fear Mattie had seen after the karaoke incident in Alnwick back again. Her bullishness gone, she was just a frail old lady in a car seat too high for her spindly legs to reach the camper van floor.
‘Reenie?’
‘Just – just give me a minute, will you? I need to . . .’ Her sentence drifted off into the warm early autumn breeze.
‘Absolutely. Take all the time you need.’ Mattie resisted the urge to look at her watch, her insides turning themselves in knots. ‘But I think June’s ready to see you.’
‘I’ll bet she is. Probably got an army in there, baying for my blood.’
‘She wants to see you. Tommy said so.’
‘Oh sure, to rub my nose in it after all these years. Nothing would give her more satisfaction than seein’ me come grovelling.’ She looked up at Mattie, revealing red-rimmed eyes that hadn’t seen much sleep. ‘She hates me. Always has. Why did I agree to this?’
Mattie ducked her head into the camper van, lowering her voice so that Gil couldn’t hear. ‘Because it matters. Because you’ve planned so much and come all this way – and to back out now would be worse than going in there. You can do this. You’re “Reenie bleedin’ Silver”! There’s nothing you can’t do.’
‘She
won’t be happy until she’s made me beg. She’s going to sit there like the bleedin’ Queen Bee and watch me sweat it out. I tell you, kid, June Knight keeps grudges longer than anyone else on earth. She’s waited sixty years to have the last word. That’s why she wants to see me.’
Mattie’s heart went out to her. Addressing Reenie as if reassuring a terrified child, Mattie touched her arm. ‘I think I know what’s going on here. You’re scared—’
‘I am not!’
‘I think you are. But you’re going to be okay, I promise. This is what you wanted to do. It was your decision to come here – so that gives you control in this situation. Yes, she might say things you don’t want to hear, but I think underneath it all she wants this as much as you. Think of the gig that’s waiting for you: wouldn’t it be better if all of The Silver Five were there? One last gig to show the world what it once had?’
Reenie shook her head. ‘You make it sound so easy. Well, it’s not. June and me – we have more history than you know. There are things we said to each other we can never take back.’
‘Then move forwards. You can do something about the future.’
‘Is she coming or not?’
Mattie closed her eyes. Shut up, Gil! She raised her hand and hoped it would be enough. ‘Shall we go in?’
‘Right.’ Reenie picked up her handbag from the seat beside her, pulled out a lacy handkerchief and dabbed her nose. ‘If this backfires, I’m blaming you.’
In that moment, Reenie Silver was triumphantly back.
She left the camper van and walked slowly across the gravel drive in front of June Knight’s house, head held high, handbag swinging like a mace readying for battle. She slowed as she drew level with Gil, jabbing a finger into his ribs.
‘Call yourself a club owner, sunshine? You wait until the star is ready. Everyone knows that. Your grandad lived by it. Ring the bell, Matilda.’
They were met by a good-looking man Mattie guessed to be in his late forties. His welcome was like a blast of warm air, almost knocking them off the York stone doorstep. ‘Hello! Lovely to see you. You found us okay? Good, good. Sorry, I’m Hugo Benecourt. Mother is itching to meet you all. She’s in the conservatory and we have tea waiting. Please, come in, come in!’
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