Searching for a Silver Lining

by Miranda Dickinson

  ‘But you had someone else.’

  ‘No. I lied.’

  The room seemed to repeat her confession as if it didn’t believe it. Chuck’s daughters shared a glance. ‘Lied about what?’

  ‘I had nobody! I was alone, dumped and practically bankrupt after that snake divorced me. I was a mess. Your dad was a good man. A wonderful man. It would have been so easy to let him take the brunt of all my crap. I mean, that’s what he offered. And anyone else would have snapped his hand off. But I couldn’t. Not after what I’d done. I’d lied to him before that, you see. I told him I was falling in love in ’56, just before the group split, and when he assumed I meant with him, I let him think it. I’m not proud of that. But I couldn’t let anyone know I was with Rico. It would’ve ended everything.’ Reenie’s shoulders seemed heavy with it all. She slumped into the armchair and rubbed her eyes, streaks of brown mascara staining her cheeks. ‘So when your dad came out to see me in Florida in ’89, and asked me straight out to marry him, I couldn’t accept. Lord knows he deserved better than me and my baggage.’

  ‘So you said you were seeing someone.’ Sheena was grave-faced.

  ‘I was going to tell him all of this today. I wish I could have.’

  Mattie didn’t know what to think. She had arrived here with the team bursting with hope for the rest of the tour, but now – well, now what? They had made such great strides forward two days ago with June, but how could they compete with death? Reenie appeared to be devastated by the news, for once deserting her natural inclination to bring every conversation back to herself. She was adamant the concert could not go ahead without Chuck – and even though both of his daughters urged her to reconsider, she wouldn’t listen.

  ‘I’m truly sorry for your loss,’ she said as she struggled to stand. ‘Mattie, fetch my coat. It’s time we left these good people to their mournin’.’

  ‘Talk to her,’ Gil hissed by Mattie’s ear.

  ‘I don’t think she’ll listen,’ she whispered back, desperately trying to summon a reason to keep Reenie in the room.

  Reenie was halfway to the door when a single piano note stopped her in her tracks. The note played again, summoning the attention of everyone in the room. Mattie turned to see Chuck’s teenage granddaughter sitting at his piano, one slender hand resting on its keys.

  ‘Thalia – not now,’ Sheena warned, but a slow progression of notes silenced her.

  Each note from the walnut grand seemed to infuse the room with light and love as Thalia Powell-Cutler played her grandfather’s beloved piano. Her mother broke down as her aunt comforted her. Mattie gazed, dumbfounded, and Gil, who minutes before had looked ready to punch something, now appeared to be holding his breath.

  And then, Thalia began to sing.

  Instantly, Mattie recognised the words from Grandpa Joe’s favourite song, played so many times through her childhood and in the church when Grandpa Joe had been brought home for the last time. But the melody was unlike anything Mattie had ever heard. It was a simple arrangement of voice and piano, but every note seemed suspended in the air above the room. ‘Because You Loved Me’ was transformed from a 1950s love song to a heartfelt modern ballad of love and loss, Thalia’s fragile, haunting voice forging a bittersweet edge to the well-loved song:

  Because you loved me

  All my crazy dreams

  Find their feathered wings and fly

  I am free, love

  Because you loved me . . .

  Nobody moved. It was impossible to stop looking at this diminutive singer with her china-doll complexion and long dark hair. Even when she reached the final line and repeated it for the last time, nobody said a word. The ultimate note reverberated from within the body of the piano, gradually ebbing away as her startled audience took in what they had just witnessed.

  Slowly, Thalia looked up, tears spilling free as she did so. ‘Let me do it. Let me be there for Gramps. Because I wasn’t there when . . .’ Her words were stolen as she broke down.

  Mattie’s heart went out to Thalia. The concert would be a tribute to Chuck as much as it had been designed to restore something to Grandpa Joe – and, she suspected, Gil’s grandfather Jacob. She almost said yes. But then she remembered Reenie. Turning to look towards the open doorway, she saw the singer was no longer on her way out. Instead she looked into the room, her face ashen, focusing on Thalia and the piano Chuck would never play again.

  This isn’t my decision. Only one person can make that choice.

  ‘Reenie, what do you think?’ Mattie’s question was as soft as she could make it.

  ‘I think you’ve got a gorgeous voice, kid,’ Reenie replied, never taking her eyes away from Thalia. ‘And you play like a dream.’

  Thalia wiped her eyes with the sleeve of the long black jumper she wore. ‘So?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s all such a shock. I need a moment to think . . .’

  She wobbled a little. Gil sprang to his feet and caught her elbow, helping the startled pensioner to a nearby chair.

  ‘You’re an incredible performer,’ he said to Thalia. ‘The group would be crazy not to let you join them. Come on, Reenie. What do you say?’

  ‘Please, Ms Silver. I know every one of his songs – we used to play them together. I think I could play them in my sleep . . .’

  Considering the dark smudges beneath the teenager’s eyes, Mattie wondered if she’d slept at all in recent days.

  ‘Dad was so excited to play at your club, Mr Kendrick,’ Eleanor said. ‘He bent everybody’s ear about it around here. Even the postie and the young lad who delivers the free papers. Thalia would be a wonderful addition to your concert. And she could accompany the group, too. You’ve heard how well she plays.’

  ‘It’s your decision, Reenie,’ Mattie reminded her, aware that her friend was facing questions from all sides. ‘But consider this: could you forgive yourself if you had this chance to make Chuck proud and you missed it?’

  Reenie blinked back at her. ‘No.’

  Mattie’s stomach churned. Was this really it? Were all the wonderful things achieved in the last week destined to come to nothing?

  ‘But—’ Thalia’s protest was halted by Reenie’s raised hand.

  ‘I said, no, I couldn’t forgive myself. Chuck wanted this gig to happen. So it’ll damn well happen.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘Dream Lover’ – Bobby Darin

  Saturday, 21 July 1956

  The Silver Five are coming to the Palm Grove in September!

  I have wanted to see them perform since I heard their song ‘Because You Loved Me’ at Len’s house. I’ve bought four of their records since and while I have nothing to play them on, several of the clerks at work have gramophones. Since I passed the last exam, Uncle C seems to be slackening his rules about my evening jaunts, so I’m often out at a pal’s house after work to listen to music. He doesn’t know about the PG, of course. I know he wouldn’t approve. He thinks I stopped going there when he forbade me back in March.

  Una says she’ll wait for me. I don’t know how long for. I know the decision won’t go away, but today I’m just going to be happy that I have tickets to see my favourite group and a beautiful girl to accompany me . . .

  Reading this gave Mattie a strange sense of completion. Joe Bell couldn’t have known when he wrote those words that it would be two generations before The Silver Five took to the stage at the Palm Grove. What would he have thought – then or now – of the efforts his future granddaughter was making in his name?

  After the turmoil of the day, Mattie had escaped to her room for a few hours. She felt as if she needed oxygen; as if she had been holding her breath for the entire day. Between the horribly sad news of Chuck Powell’s passing, the very real possibility that the concert had been grounded once and for all, Thalia’s sudden emergence as Chuck’s worthy heir and the constant question beneath it all of what might be happening with Gil, Mattie had lost track completely of what she should think or feel.
She needed to be able to set off for Wales in the morning with at least a basic sense of control, and for that she needed space she couldn’t find when cooped up in a camper van with two other people.

  Gil had tried to persuade her to spend time with him – and, for a moment, she had been tempted. But so much had happened today and she needed time to think. She’d promised to see him after dinner, which was booked for seven-thirty p.m., leaving her with two hours now for a bath and a nap.

  So, Joe Bell had planned to see The Silver Five with Una? In the years he had talked about missing the concert, he had never mentioned that anyone else was going with him. There must have been a reason he didn’t mention Una or her brother, Mattie supposed. But why had he missed a gig he was so obviously looking forward to?

  He’d always maintained he’d abandoned the concert because a friend needed him. Had that been Una, or Len? Had Uncle Charles found out where he was going and put a stop to his Palm Grove jaunts? Certainly Grandpa Joe was a proud man, so the humiliation of his uncle’s intervention would probably have continued to annoy him even decades after the event. That much Mattie could still be certain of. But with everything she now knew, she found it hard to trust any of his recollections of that night. What had really happened? Would his diary reveal the secret?

  Mattie groaned and put the book on the bedside table. She’d had enough revelations for one day. The answer – if it was contained within the green leather-bound pages – could wait one more day to be discovered. Closing her aching eyes, she let the unfamiliar contours of the hotel bed pull her gently into a deep sleep.

  When she awoke with a jump, daylight was pooling into her room from the still-open curtains. Confused, she found her watch and squinted at the face.

  No, it couldn’t be, could it?

  An insistent growl from her stomach corroborated the watch’s story and she sat up, punch-drunk from nearly fourteen hours of sleep. Clambering out of bed and padding across the thick carpet to fetch the kettle, she noticed a small rectangle of paper by the bottom of the door. When she picked it up she saw her name, unfolding the paper to read the note within:

  Hey you

  Missed you this evening.

  Just know that I’m thinking of you and I can’t wait to see you in the morning.

  Sweet dreams, Mattie Bell.

  Gil x

  Mattie smiled. The note was undeniably sweet. Gil was sweet, she was discovering. Reenie had once used the word to describe Jacob Kendrick, and Mattie half-wondered what Reenie really made of his grandson. Was it the similarity to Jacob that sometimes irritated her when she was around Gil, or was it the difference in his character that marked him out? Mattie wanted to ask her – but to do so before she and Gil were ready to tell everyone might be a mistake.

  She was considering this later, on her way to the hotel’s breakfast room, when a noise almost scared her witless.

  ‘Psst! Mattie!’

  She turned to see Gil, half-hidden behind a large potted palm in an archway near the reception area. ‘You crazy man, you almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing?’

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of sight of the communal sitting area. ‘I wanted to do this before we have to face Reenie.’ Before she could reply she was in his arms, giggling as he kissed her.

  When he let go, she reached out to steady herself against the wall, trying to reclaim her breath from her amusement and his kiss. ‘Someone might have seen us,’ she said.

  ‘And what if they had? It’s our business. And a wonderful business it is . . .’ He reached for her again.

  ‘Gil, stop it!’

  ‘I missed you last night.’

  ‘I know. I got your note, thanks.’

  ‘So, now you’re well rested . . .’

  ‘You are impossible! Put me down . . .’ She cast her eye over her shoulder in case anyone was nearby.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve sworn this pot plant to secrecy.’ Looking down, Gil’s smile broadened. ‘Which, according to its laminated name badge, is “Horatio”. Who does that? Who names their plants? Man, some things about this hotel are odd.’

  ‘The delights of being on the road.’

  ‘Only one delight I’m interested in . . .’ His lips made a bid for her neck, and it took all of Mattie’s resolve to push him back.

  ‘We can’t. Reenie could be here any minute.’

  ‘Fine, have it your way.’ He raised his hands as if Mattie had suddenly become an exposed live wire. ‘But you aren’t telling me you’d rather hang out with a hell-raising OAP than be with me, are you? Because I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘Sad though it may be, yes. For now, anyway. Don’t groan like that, Gil. Time isn’t on our side and we have to get to Wales as soon as we can.’ And I need to concentrate, she added in her head. The unexpected turn of events yesterday, and Gil’s obvious intention to pursue whatever was happening between them, was making her dizzy. She had to maintain her focus on the road trip she’d invested so much time and energy in. Whatever else might be happening could wait – she hoped – until later. It was too new for her to be able to work out whether it was real or not. She wanted to enjoy it, not analyse too much, but she felt cautious after what had happened with Asher. For that she needed a clear head and, however difficult it might be to resist the lure of giving in to the heady pull of chemistry, she had to be responsible.

  Gil feigned offence, but his smile told her she was forgiven. ‘I get it. This isn’t going to go away, I promise. I wasn’t expecting to find you; there’s no way I’m letting you go.’

  Mattie was still buzzing when she reached the table, where Reenie was holding court as usual, joking loudly with neighbouring diners, her trademark high spirits firmly back in place. Mattie suspected the professional smile was there for a reason, but it was good to see her sassiness back.

  ‘Ah, here she is, the filthy little stop-out,’ she grinned. ‘I do hope you were up to no good last night, Mattie Bell. It’ll restore my faith in humanity.’

  ‘It’s all true,’ she grinned, happy to play along. ‘So much so that we have to leave today whether we like it or not. Bath won’t have me back for a while.’

  ‘Drummed out of town? That’s my girl! So, when do we leave?’

  ‘As soon as everyone is ready. It isn’t a long drive today, but I think the sooner we get to Wales the better.’ She caught Gil’s smile out of the corner of her eye, and fought the urge to giggle. Maybe when they arrived at their accommodation she and Gil could spend some time alone. That possibility would keep her warm all the way to the Brecon Beacons.

  As Rusty carried them through stunning countryside in early-afternoon sunshine, Mattie could feel Reenie’s eyes steady on her. She chanced a look to her left and instantly saw suspicion staring back.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Peachy, kid. Just peachy.’

  ‘We should be able to find somewhere to stop soon, if you need a break?’

  ‘Oh, don’t you worry about my bladder, Mattie Bell. From the look of you, you have more important things to concern yourself with.’

  ‘Such as?’ Mattie could hardly believe she was egging her friend on: even a week ago, she wouldn’t have dared court controversy over her own life.

  ‘I dunno. You tell me.’

  ‘Just focusing on the driving. Like you told me.’

  ‘Bollocks you are,’ Reenie grinned. ‘But you’ll keep, girl.’

  Mattie didn’t dare look in the rear-view mirror in case Reenie saw it, but she knew Gil had heard their conversation by the way he shifted position in the back seat.

  Half an hour out of Bath, the heavens opened. Within another hour, iron-grey clouds shrouded the road in gloom as the rain turned to hail. The noise on Rusty’s roof was deafening, drowning out the engine noise and conversation. Ahead of them, a row of cones across the road confirmed its closure, the first yellow diversion sign peering out through the rain. Tuning the radio to a local news station, Mattie’s worst fear
s were confirmed: the road she’d planned to take was impassable due to floods, and was unlikely to reopen for several days.

  With a sigh of resignation, Mattie followed the diversion.

  Another crushingly slow hour later, the suggested route was fast becoming a road to nowhere. Thick forest on either side of the dual carriageway stole what little light the storm hadn’t already blocked, cloaking the road in impenetrable shadows. Mattie could feel the ache growing across her shoulders and neck, and realised she was gripping Rusty’s steering wheel.

  Gil and Reenie’s conversation had long since waned, leaving the occupants of the camper van sitting in uneasy silence. Only the thunderous pelting of rain on the windscreen and protesting squeak of Rusty’s failing windscreen wipers filled the space where chatter had been.

  ‘It’s a filthy day,’ Reenie said finally, peering out of Rusty’s steamed-up windows. ‘I’ll be glad to get to my bed later.’

  ‘Me too.’ Mattie tried to release the tension in her neck. ‘I can’t believe anyone thought this was a suitable diversion.’

  ‘It could be a while till we get there. Why don’t we try to find somewhere nearby to eat and have a break?’ Gil suggested.

  Frustrated by their slow progress, Mattie was keen to press on, but the mention of food changed her mind. Twenty dragging minutes later, the welcoming beacon of a roadside pub burned into view.

  It was a blessed relief to enter the warm and cosy interior of the pub. In the corner a roaring fire blazed, dried hops were strung over rafters and generous tweed armchairs nestled around tables, while soothing music played. Despite her concerns about their spiralling schedule, Mattie was glad of the sanctuary.

  She joined Gil at the bar while Reenie commandeered a table.

  ‘How’s the shoulder?’ he asked.

  ‘Still a bit stiff. It’s times like these I long for power steering.’

  ‘I don’t know how you can drive that thing. Especially in this weather. Although I’m impressed it hasn’t broken up from sheer effort. Do you think it’ll survive the entire journey?’