by Pam Howes
Edie and Fran were sitting at the table hugging mugs of tea. Fran looked up and smiled wearily, big dark shadows beneath her eyes. ‘Morning, Bella. You look as bad as I feel. Awful night again, wasn’t it?’ She picked up a sheet of paper and waved it in the air. ‘But at last I’ve heard from Frankie. He can’t say where he is or anything, but at least he’s alive and not captured as we all feared he might be.’
‘Oh thank God for that. What a relief for you.’ Bella gave Fran a hug and Edie joined in. ‘It’s horrible right now. I can’t believe how bad it is here in Liverpool. When we’re away, we seem isolated somehow. Oh I know we see bombed-out buildings and churches and stuff, but it’s more concentrated in Liverpool. I’ve just posted a letter to our Molly telling her to expect Mam any day soon. Mam doesn’t know yet that she’s going, but she is. I’m not taking no for an answer either.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ Fran said, lifting the teapot and pouring a mug for Bella. Help yourself to milk, but you can only have half a spoon of sugar. We’ve not got much left. Mam’s trying to get a bit while she’s shopping.’
‘Thanks.’ Bella took a welcome sip of her tea. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’ She told them about her mam’s visit to Bobby’s home and how Mam was sure that Alicia was lying all along, but that she was now married to Bobby.
‘Well, me and Edie said that all along,’ Fran said and Edie nodded.
‘Poor Bobby,’ Edie said. ‘Why don’t you write to him while Alicia’s out of the way?’
‘Oh I couldn’t do that. Marie might tell her that Bobby got a letter from someone and she’d demand to know who from and it might cause trouble for him. No, I have to get over him and move on with my life. There’ll be plenty of time to meet someone new in the next few years. For now my singing comes first.’
20
RAF Burtonwood, Warrington, December 1941
Basil rounded his troupe up for rehearsals for their Christmas Eve show at RAF Burtonwood. It was a new airbase and the facilities were better than many they’d used before, with nice shower and toilet blocks, which had pleased his girls. There was talk of the place also becoming a base for the USAAF – United States Army and Air Force – soon, as rumours were flying in all directions that the Americans were coming to the UK to assist with the war effort.
The attack by the Japanese on Pearl Harbor earlier this month had resulted in much damage to ships and over 2,400 people were reported to have died. A few days later, Hitler’s declaration of war on the USA had led the United States to enter the war in Europe. It wouldn’t be too long now before the country was awash with American soldiers and airmen.
The band the Bryant Sisters were currently singing with was made up of English musicians and two Americans, including the leader Earl, who had arrived early, ahead of the expected schedule of troops. Earl Franklin Junior had introduced himself to them all that morning and Basil had seen Bella’s face light up for the first time in ages. She seemed drawn by the way his big dark-brown eyes constantly twinkled in her direction.
‘He can’t take his eyes off you,’ Basil had heard Fran mutter in between songs. ‘And he’s very handsome. Look at those cheekbones. Cor.’
Basil smiled as Bella nodded her agreement. He also had to agree. Earl was indeed handsome, tall and slim, with finely chiselled features, including his high cheekbones and thick black hair that sat in a tidy air-force-style short back and sides. He was a great band leader, singer and swing-style piano player. He also played a trumpet well. He cut a fine figure onstage and his movements when he sang and played encouraged everyone to join in with him.
Basil sat watching them through a cloud of cigar smoke, nodding his head from time to time. Earl was very good. He’d told Basil that he came from New Orleans; the same place as one of Basil’s favourites, Louis Armstrong, although Earl’s voice was more melodic, deep, but not as gravelly as Louis’s. When he sang with Bella the hairs on the back of Basil’s neck stood on end. It was pure perfection. If only there wasn’t a bloody war on, those two could go far. Their voices blended in perfect harmony and they looked great together. They were exactly the duo he’d been searching all his life for; they had star quality.
The singers took a break while the rest of the acts practised their performances for later. The girls joined Basil, and a lady in uniform brought over a tray of coffee and cakes. Basil beckoned for Earl to join them and he sauntered over and took the empty seat next to Bella. He smiled and winked at her and Bella blushed deeply but smiled back.
Fran nudged Basil and he nudged her back. He also nudged Edie on his other side and she smiled at him. They were all on the same wavelength, thinking the same, Basil thought. Bella was showing signs of coming back to life after her disappointment over Bobby. It was good for her to have a new male voice to blend with. With a bit of luck they might be able to take Earl and his band with them from time to time until the rest of his air force troop arrived and he was needed to fly planes, for Earl was a wing commander whose flying services would soon be required.
‘Right, give me one more song and then you can go and rest before tonight’s show,’ Basil said. ‘Seeing as it’s a cold day, and will no doubt be a cold night, what about “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm”, not many do that and the film it’s from was really popular back in the late thirties, it’ll be a good song to make your own. Here.’ He rooted in his bag and pulled out the sheet music. ‘Just in case you don’t know it.’
‘Oh, I do,’ Earl said, smiling. ‘Nice song for a cold winter’s night.’ He looked at Bella, ‘Do you know it, Bella? Written by Irving Berlin.’
She nodded. ‘I do. I remember seeing On the Avenue at the pictures with Mam when I was quite young.’
‘Come on then,’ Earl said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. She snatched her hand away and he raised an eyebrow. ‘Sorry, ma’am,’ he apologised. ‘No offence meant.’
‘None taken,’ Bella said. ‘I’m sorry too. It was just a shock, that’s all.’
‘But a beautiful girl like you must have her hand held several times a day, surely?’ Earl teased.
‘Not any more,’ Bella muttered, looking down at the floor.
‘Let’s get on with the song,’ Basil said. He could see how flustered Bella was and didn’t want Earl to think it was because of his race that Bella had snatched her hand away. People could be prejudiced, but he didn’t think Bella was that sort of person. He’d explain to Earl later that she’d been hurt and wasn’t as trusting as she used to be. Earl seemed a nice guy and Basil was sure he’d understand Bella’s reticence once he knew the reason behind it.
On the stage again, Bella and Earl, with Fran and Edie doing the backing vocals, made a good job of the song. Earl played trumpet as well as singing. Basil and the rest of the troupe clapped and cheered as the song finished and Bella and the others took a bow.
‘Fabulous,’ Basil declared. ‘Save it for your party piece at the end of the show.’
Back in the Nissan hut they’d been given for a couple of nights, the girls lay down on the comfortable camp beds to rest.
‘I could sleep for a week, never mind perform tonight,’ Bella said. It had been quite an emotional day. She’d been able to speak to her mam and Molly this morning at the farmhouse they were staying in, and although the line had been crackly and a bit distorted it was good to hear their voices again. Mam told her she’d had a recent letter from Dad and he sent his love to them all. It was a relief to know he was all right. She missed them all so much and would give her right arm to be with them tomorrow.
Instead, she would spend it here with Fran and Edie; they’d have their Christmas dinner in the NAAFI, and a there was a buffet and dance on Christmas night that the ENSA variety troupe had been invited to join in with. She knew how lucky she was when others would be going hungry and had no one to spend their Christmas with. For so many families it would be their first Christmas without their lost loved ones, a time of great sorrow instead of the joy that a f
amily Christmas should bring.
‘Me too,’ Fran said, yawning. ‘Sleep for a week, I mean. But we’ll be fine once we’re all dolled up and the adrenaline starts flowing. A small glass of sherry wouldn’t go amiss either. Fingers crossed we get offered one.’
‘I think you and Earl sang so well together,’ Edie said to Bella. ‘Easily as good as you and Bobby used to.’
Bella felt her eyes beginning to fill. She’d been trying not to think about Bobby, but it was the time of year that reminded her of him the most. ‘It’s a year ago tonight since I last sang with Bobby. Even though I try not to, I often think about him and how the er, marriage is working out. Mam reckoned there was no baby, so I hope things are okay between them. It seems so cruel, what Alicia did to him. Me and him could have been engaged now, or even married.’
Fran nodded. ‘But we don’t know for certain that there definitely was no baby. That’s just your mam’s own thoughts and opinion. If there was, and Alicia genuinely miscarried, then you’ve got to feel a bit sorry for her and for Bobby, of course. Anyway, whatever the truth, Bobby’s married to her now and you have to let go and see what the future brings.’
‘Earl’s really nice and seems quite taken with you, Bella,’ Edie said, twiddling a curl around her fingers. ‘He’s got a lovely way about him. Makes me smile.’
Bella sighed. ‘He is a bit of a charmer. But he’s going to be really busy when the rest of the troops arrive and he’ll be off flying planes and lord knows what else they’ll be doing. This isn’t the right time to get involved with anyone new. None of us know what the next few months will bring, or if we’ll even survive them.’
‘Bloody hell!’ Fran exclaimed. ‘Right Job’s comforter you are, Bella. Of course we’ll survive. We have to. We’ve got thousands more troops to entertain over the next year or two. And we’ve got Frankie and Stevie to keep cheerful for. They don’t want to receive letters from home full of doom and gloom. They’ve got enough of that as it is. Come on, put on your happy face again and let’s get ready for the show. We’re getting too maudlin lying around in here.’
By the time the final part of the show got underway, Bella felt on top form. That adrenaline stuff that Fran was always going on about was a right good pick-me-up, she thought. She and Earl just gelled in the right way and it was wonderful to sing with him. Basil had asked her if she’d think about doing ‘Over the Rainbow’ with Earl but so far she’d dismissed the idea. However, during the break she’d mentioned it to him and Earl told her it was one of his favourite songs.
‘My little sister died two years ago and it was her favourite song too,’ she said.
His dark eyes clouded. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘What was your sister’s name?’
‘Betty,’ Bella replied. ‘She was only five years old.’
Earl reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it. This time Bella didn’t pull away. ‘Then let’s sing it for Betty,’ he suggested. ‘It would make me feel real proud that we were doing that.’
‘Would it?’ Bella smiled.
‘Sure would.’
Back onstage and after a medley of Christmas songs that the audience sang along to, Bella’s heart filled with love for her lovely little Betty when Earl announced the final number.
‘This next song is for a pretty little lady no longer here, but who resides in the arms of our Lord, over and beyond the rainbow,’ he announced, and turned to the pianist, who gave him a nod. Bella guessed he’d had a word with him earlier. She took a deep breath and tried not to think of last Christmas Eve when Bobby’s hand had crept into hers while they sang. The emotional tide she was currently on carried her along and Earl’s voice, deeper than Bobby’s but just as melodic, harmonised with hers. They finished to tumultuous applause, loud whistling, stamping of feet and shouts of ‘More!’
‘Let’s give ’em “The Twelve Days of Christmas”,’ Earl suggested, his face splitting with the biggest smile. ‘Then we can enjoy the after-party before hitting the hay.’
Everyone joined in, including the rest of the acts, and as the troupe filed offstage afterwards they all agreed it was one of the best shows they’d ever done.
‘That will be a hard act to follow,’ Basil said as he handed out drinks in the NAAFI. ‘I wish we could take you with us, Earl.’
‘Me too, buddy,’ Earl said, looking at Bella. ‘When you next come back this way I’ll be ready and waiting to join in. Say, Basil, did I hear you mention a show planned for a Liverpool theatre in the next couple of months?’
‘There is. We’ll be at the Empire on Lime Street in February, if it’s still standing,’ Basil said. ‘So far so good, mind.’
‘Then in that case, and if I’m not overseas, I would be proud to join you again.’
‘I’ll be in touch with you before then,’ Basil said. He pointed across the room. ‘There’s a bloke over there taking some photographs with a flash camera. I’ll just go and have a word and see if he’ll come and get a good one of the girls with you. When he takes the film to be developed, I’ll ask him to get copies of the picture for us as well. We can pick them up the next time we’re at Burtonwood. Or you can bring them over to Liverpool.’
Mary turned over in bed and looked across at her sleeping daughter in the narrow bed next to hers. Christmas morning and her family of five was now down to just her and Molly. Still, as far as she was aware, they were all safe. Harry over in France, and Bella in Warrington for now. They’d all be thinking of each other and remembering the last Christmas they’d spent together before little Betty died. Mary swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn’t even visit Betty’s grave today. Fran’s mam had promised to put a bit of greenery on for her this week, so it was better than nothing to be going on with. Molly stirred and opened her sleepy brown eyes.
‘Morning, Mol,’ Mary greeted her daughter.
‘Morning, Mam. What time is it?’
‘Just gone seven. I think the little ones are up already. I can hear excited voices. Shall we go down and see if Father Christmas has been for them? Bless them. We have to try and give them some normality. Wherever she is, their mam must be breaking her heart today, wondering if her little ones are okay. I know how I feel about my Betty. But to think of any kiddie of mine being away and not being able to be with them would be more than I could bear.’ Mary slid out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and slid her feet into her slippers. Molly slipped a warm cardigan over her pyjamas and the pair crept downstairs.
In the large farmhouse kitchen a fire blazed in the grate and a decorated pine tree stood in one alcove. Three little boys, two blond and one ginger, jigged from foot to foot with excitement.
‘Look, Aunty Mary,’ the little ginger-haired one cried. ‘He’s been, Faver Chwistmas has been.’
‘Has he, Georgie?’ Mary said, laughing. ‘And did he eat the biscuit you left him?’
‘Yes, he did and Rudolph ate the carrot as well.’
Ruth Jones, the farmer’s wife, turned from the stove where she was busy stirring a large pan of porridge and smiled. ‘I had to send ’em back to bed at four and again at five,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Bless ’em, eh? Sit down at the table, boys, and eat your porridge and then when Uncle Bertie gets back from his milking we can all open our presents. Come on now, up you get.’
Mary helped twins Eric and Tony up on to the bench-style seats. They were only three years old and Georgie was nearly five. Three little brothers, evacuated from down near the docks in Liverpool. So far there had been no news of their mother since the area had been flattened by Nazi bombers in the blitz in May. Their father was in France and their mother had still been living in the family home as far as anyone knew. No one in authority had been able to tell them anything different.
Ruth, whose two teenage sons were away fighting with their regiment, had told Mary that if no one came to claim the boys after the war had finished, whenever that might be, she would happily take on the responsibility and bring them up as her own
. She’d had them over a year now and she was fond of them. Mary thought how kind of Ruth to offer to care for them if there was no alternative.
‘Mary, come on, you and Molly get yours and then we can make room for the next sitting.’ Ruth laughed. ‘A woman’s work, and all that.’ The three land girls who lived in the converted barn on the farm would be in at eight for their breakfasts. Apart from the cows being milked there was no work being done outside today. After a visit to the local church in Conwy for the morning service, the day would be spent relaxing and enjoying a Christmas dinner in front of a roaring fire and then listening to the king’s speech at three o’clock.
Mary hoped Bella would get a decent dinner today. Her daughter had told her they’d be spending most of the day in the NAAFI and from what Mary had heard, the army and air-force cooks were reported to be excellent. All in all it was better than spending time in Liverpool at the mercy of whatever Hitler decided to do next. It was beyond Mary to understand how one man could get away with so many atrocities, and with everyone after him, why was he still ruling the roost? She’d never wished anyone dead in her life, but by God she wished Hitler a long, slow and very painful ending. He was an evil swine who deserved nothing less.
21
Liverpool, March 1942
The Bryant Sisters stared up at the brightly coloured advertisement on the wall at the front of the Empire Theatre, their mouths wide with shock. They’d been told it was happening, but it was still a breathtaking moment to see their names on that poster.
‘That’s us,’ Bella whispered. ‘Us and George Formby – on the same show and at the Empire of all places. Oh my God. Can you believe it, girls?’
Fran shook her head. ‘Quite honestly? No, but isn’t it fantastic.’
