Dreaming Out Loud (17 page)

When they arrived at Jack and Thelma’s house the chauffeur got out and hurried round to speak to Lana. ‘Just sit there a mo, madam. I’ll go and let them know.’

Lana watched him hurry up the path. The door opened almost before he had taken his finger off the bell. Thelma appeared in the doorway and stood quite still, with her arms folded across her body. There was no sign of Jack.

‘Shall I carry the baby for you?’ the chauffeur asked when he returned to the car.

‘No,’ Lana held her sleeping daughter more tightly to her breast, ‘I’ll carry her.’

‘It’s cold, madam. You’ll have to be nippy.’

‘She’s well wrapped up and I can manage.’ Lana got out of the car and turned her head to look over her shoulder. ‘Would you bring those two parcels, please? I’m afraid they’re quite large.’

‘No problem. I’ll follow you.’

‘I’m not going to invite you in,’ Thelma said. She didn’t smile. ‘It’s best to do this quickly.’

Behind her the house gleamed with a warm light and there was a welcoming aroma of baking. But the welcome was not for Lana.

‘Jack?’ Lana asked.

‘He’s not coming to the door. He thought it best. Don’t just stand there. It’s cold. You’d better give me the baby.’

When Thelma took the child in her arms Lana felt that a precious cord had been severed.

‘Are these to go inside, madam?’ The chauffeur was standing behind Lana with the parcels.

‘What are they?’ Thelma asked.

‘Feeding bottles, powdered milk, nappies, clothes,’ Lana said.

‘I’ve already bought all that kind of thing.’ Thelma looked as if she was about to step back and close the door.

‘Please take them.’

Thelma nodded her grudging assent and stood aside. The chauffeur placed the parcels on the floor in the hallway and then walked back to the car.

‘You’d best go now,’ Thelma said. She stepped back.

‘Wait – please—’

‘What is it?’

‘Her name. I’ve called her Kay.’

Thelma pursed her lips.

‘Jack chose the name,’ Lana said.

‘That’s right,’ Jack said. He had emerged from one of the rooms and he came to stand behind Thelma.

‘Jack, I thought we’d decided it was best for you not to come to the door,’ Thelma said. She looked vexed.

‘I wondered what was keeping you. Is there a problem?’

Thelma shook her head. ‘No problem.’

Jack put an arm around her shoulders. They both looked down at the baby, who had begun to stir and murmur softly.

Lana turned and fled.

The chauffeur helped her into the car and wrapped a fur rug around her. ‘We have quite a way to go to the convalescent home. Try and get some sleep.’

Lana looked up into his face and saw he was smiling sympathetically. She wondered if had performed services like this before. She didn’t feel as if she could ask him. He closed the door and she sank back into the luxurious leather seats.

The car sped through the darkened streets and out into the country. Lana closed her eyes but sleep evaded her. She considered the enormity of what she had just done. She convinced herself that Thelma would be a better mother for Kay than she could ever be. But the sight of Jack, Thelma and the baby, silhouetted in the doorway looking like a proper family, was an image that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Chapter Fifteen

July 1950

Miss Bennet pursed her lips and frowned with displeasure at the heading of the article in the local paper: ‘SUCCESS FOR SHOP GIRL!’

The piece had been written by one of the paper’s enthusiastic young reporters, Jane Gill. Miss Bennet thought it trivialised Kay, who might have worked at a small town grocery shop but was far more than a ‘Shop Girl’. Couldn’t they at least have put ‘SUCCESS FOR LOCAL GIRL’? Or ‘LOCAL GIRL’S SUCCESS IN LONDON’, perhaps. In her opinion, either of these would have been a better heading.

The piece was pretty much what you would expect in a local paper. Trying to avoid looking at the annoying heading, Miss Bennet picked up her new, more powerful magnifying glass. Squinting through it awkwardly, she settled down to read the article for the umpteenth time.

Many of you will remember Kay Lockwood, the cheerful young woman who cycled round town in all weathers collecting your orders for Sampson’s high-class grocery store.

Miss Bennet smiled at the description of Sampson’s as a ‘high-class’ establishment, although, to be fair, they did look after their customers in a respectful, old-fashioned way and always carried a few hard-to-obtain luxury items. Also, it could be no coincidence that the young reporter was Mrs Sampson’s niece.

Well, incredible as it seems, Miss Lockwood has become a successful radio actress. Her younger sister Julie, who recently became Mrs Anthony Chalmers, has kindly told us how this came about. It started with an inheritance.

Avid film fans and theatre goers will surely remember the beautiful and talented actress Lana Fontaine. But did you know that before she became famous she appeared at the Pavilion Theatre here in Northridge Bay? It was here that she met the theatre’s actor-manager, Jack Lockwood, and in fact she lodged at his house and became firm friends with his wife, Thelma. So much so that when the Lockwoods’ first child, Kay, was born, Lana Fontaine asked if she could be godmother.

The Lockwoods’ second child, Julie, remembers that in the years before Miss Fontaine became a major star of stage and screen – even going to Hollywood to make a series of films – she would visit Northridge Bay regularly, bringing presents for the children and reliving old times with Jack and Thelma.

Sadly fame and fortune swept her into a different life and she stopped coming to visit her old friends. But it seems she did not forget her godchild, Kay, and when the actress died last year, she left Kay everything she owned. Kay went to London to sort out Miss Fontaine’s affairs, and a chance meeting with a radio drama producer led to her starting work as a radio actress working for the BBC. Her sister Julie says this is perfect work for her, as a childhood accident left Kay with a limp which might prove difficult for a stage actress.

I’m sure those of you who remember the way Kay used to pedal that old bicycle round the streets of Northridge collecting orders will be sure that not much could prevent her from living an otherwise full life.

Julie says that she and her mother had no idea that Kay was so talented, and thinks that Kay must have inherited her acting ability from their father, Jack, a gifted actor himself, who sadly died when the children were small.

Now Kay is about to play a leading role in a new radio serial,
Mulberry Court,
which will follow the fortunes of an old country family recovering from the war. You will find her name in the
Radio Times
. I’m sure her godmother, Lana Fontaine, would have been very proud of her.

Miss Bennet carefully tore the page from the newspaper, folded it and put it in an envelope. She would send it to Kay, who was far too intelligent to be offended by the ‘shop girl’ reference. In fact, with her keen intelligence and lack of false pride she was more likely to be amused.

She hurried through to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, then went back to the sitting room and switched on the radio. She checked the
Radio Times
, although she had done so several times already, then she settled down to listen to the first episode of
Mulberry Court
.

Thelma looked up from the newspaper, which was on the floor, open at the offending article about Kay, and glared at her daughter. Unable to sit comfortably because of her condition, Julie squirmed restlessly on the new sofa.

‘Why did you do it, Julie?’ Thelma asked. ‘Why did you talk to the newspaper?’

‘I didn’t see any harm in it.’

‘Did they tell you they’d asked me and that I had refused?’

‘No, they didn’t, and neither did you.’

‘You should have known I don’t like discussing personal matters.’

‘Yes, I do know that. You’ve always been reticent about the past. But I also know that Kay is in the public eye now and people will want to know about her.’

‘It’s none of their business!’

‘Oh, Mum, you’ll have to accept that things have changed.’

Thelma turned her head and stared angrily into the fire.

After a moment Julie asked, ‘Aren’t you proud of Kay?’

‘Proud?’ Thelma looked at her daughter. ‘Why should I be?’

‘I can’t believe you said that. She left school without her School Cert., she’s had no training, and yet she has become a successful actress working on the radio.’

‘And that’s something to be proud of, is it?’

‘Of course it is!’ Julie said angrily. ‘And our father would have been proud of her, too.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘It’s obvious. Dad was an actor, a showman; he loved working in the world of entertainment. I certainly haven’t inherited his talent but it seems Kay has. You should be doubly proud. Unless . . .’

Thelma looked wary. ‘Unless what?’

‘Oh, Mum, I’m sorry. Is it too painful for you? Does all this bring back memories of Dad?’

Julie was surprised when she got a straight answer. ‘Yes, it does.’

‘I’m sorry. You never told me anything. You’ve never talked to Kay and me about the past.’

Thelma bent over and picked up the newspaper, then folded it and rose from her chair. ‘Want a cup of tea, Julie, love?’ she asked. Julie realised that their conversation was over. ‘Or do you have to get home to make Tony’s tea?’

‘Tony’s working late again. He says he’ll eat something at the club.’ Julie tried hard not to sound aggrieved. ‘I thought I’d come here and have tea with you. Is that all right?’

‘Of course it is.’ Her mother looked pleased. ‘I’ve got a tin of salmon. How about some sandwiches?’

‘Lovely. And we can sit here by the fire and listen to Kay’s play on the wireless.’

Her mother’s smile vanished. ‘If you want to listen to the play I’ll make your sandwiches and bring them through, but if you don’t mind I won’t join you.’ She left the room before Julie could answer her.

Thelma brought the new brass and glass tea trolley through, set with sandwiches, a home-made Victoria sponge and a pot of tea. She told Julie to make herself comfortable and left her on her own.
She could have switched the wireless on for me
, Julie thought and heaved herself clumsily to her feet.

She was just in time.

The cast was assembled in studio 6A. Holding their scripts, they sat around the microphone. As well as the performers there was a studio manager who was responsible for spot effects. He had his own script and his own microphone and a collection of props, such as a tea tray with cups and saucers so that he could produce the effects of a tea party. He was also wearing headphones so that he could take directions from the producer, Julian Fry, who was in the cubicle.

The cubicle was separated from the studio by a double-glazed panel so that Julian could observe what was happening with the cast. He was flanked by Shirley, the programme secretary, and another studio manager at the control desk who was responsible for the microphone balance. Yet another studio manager stood at two turntables to provide any music and sound effects which were on disc. And sitting quietly apart was the scriptwriter, who would be waiting anxiously to see how things went.
All in all there are nearly as many people in the cubicle as there are here in the studio
, Kay thought.

Everybody else was much more experienced than she was, and she found herself wondering if they were at all nervous. They couldn’t possibly be. Looking at the actors who were to play the parts of her father, her mother, the family solicitor, the cook and a couple of villagers, she was in awe of their calm, professional manner.

Suddenly all the people in the cubicle looked as though they were concentrating. Kay knew that an announcer in a continuity suite in the sub-basement had started his introduction to the play. This would be followed by the opening music, played from a disc in the cubicle. In the studio the red light came on, and the play began.

When the closing music faded Miss Bennet sat back in her armchair and closed her eyes. She sighed with contentment. Kay had been wonderful. She had made her old schoolteacher completely believe in the character she was playing: a young woman from a privileged background who had driven an ambulance in the latter years of the war. Her fiancé had perished on D-Day, and she was now facing up to a changing world with courage and fortitude.

Thank goodness I encouraged Kay to go to London
, Miss Bennet thought.
If she’d stayed here she might have wasted her life waiting for Tony Chalmers to propose to her. He was never right for her, and to give him his due I think he knew that. But I wonder if he ever regrets letting her go.

Julie swung her legs down from the settee, where she had been lying propped up with cushions, and sprang to her feet. Then sank straight down again. She had moved too quickly, and for a moment she was overtaken with breathlessness while her head seemed to spin round. She placed one hand flat on her chest and waited for the world to right itself.

She was so excited, so overwhelmed by Kay’s performance, that she wanted to run through the house to find her mother and berate her for not listening to her own daughter’s triumph. For Julie, who really wasn’t qualified to judge such things, nevertheless thought Kay’s performance had been magnificent.

She only hoped her mother-in-law had been listening. Mrs Chalmers had promised she would, and if she had, Julie hoped she hadn’t consumed too many gin and tonics. She was really looking forward to being able to talk about her talented older sister, and if her own mother would have nothing to do with it then Tony’s mother would have to do.

When she felt steady enough to stand, she went through to the breakfast room, where she found her mother sitting at the table weeping her heart out.

Julie, God bless her, couldn’t have been sweeter, Thelma thought. She had made tea and insisted that Thelma drink it, and refused to go home until she was sure that her mother had recovered sufficiently to be left on her own. Her younger daughter hadn’t asked why she had been crying. She must have assumed that she was still upset about Kay being on the wireless. And that was partly true. What Julie didn’t know was that Thelma had listened to the play after all. Only yesterday she had bought herself a small portable wireless to keep her company in the kitchen.

After leaving Julie in the sitting room with her sandwiches, she brought the wireless through to the breakfast room, put it on the table, sat down and stared at it.
Shall I listen or shan’t I?
she agonised. She felt torn in two by conflicting emotions. Julie was wrong if she thought her reluctance to listen was because she didn’t love Kay. It was much more than that. Soon she heard the echo of music coming from the sitting room. The play must have started. Unable to resist any longer, she switched her wireless on.

When the play was over she heard Julie coming and she switched it off and pushed it behind the curtain on the windowsill. Deeply moved, she could not bring herself to admit to Julie that she had listened to the play after all.

The red light went out. Kay glanced into the cubicle and saw that everyone was smiling. Julian Fry was shaking the scriptwriter’s hand. A moment later he burst into the studio and said, ‘Well done, everybody. I think this one’s going to run and run.’

Shirley followed him in and came straight over to Kay. ‘You were wonderful, darling!’ she said.

‘Darling’? Kay thought. How quickly Shirley had adopted the ways of the people she worked with. She listened to the cast congratulating each other in similar tones and wondered if it would happen to her. Suddenly she remembered her old friend, Miss Bennet, and decided that she must endeavour not to change. No matter how successful she might become, she must stay true to herself.

Shirley had moved on and Alex Walsh, the actor who played the part of Kay’s father, approached her and said, ‘Well done, my daughter. Your old father’s proud of you.’

At this they both laughed, for Alex, whose character was a man in his sixties, was in real life only a few years older than Kay, while Cynthia Russell, who played Kay’s mother, was really old enough to be her grandmother. Everything depended on the voice. From the start Kay had been amused that the actress who played the cook with a lovely rural accent was in reality one of the most aristocratic-sounding people she had ever heard. There was so much to tell Miss Bennet, and Kay decided she must phone her as soon as she got home.

But what about her mother? Kay knew immediately that a call would not be welcome. Or Julie? Perhaps. Kay had her sister’s phone number and Julie had been writing to her lately. But would she have listened to the play? Suddenly Kay felt bereft. Everyone else knew each other and they were already exchanging gossip as they prepared to leave.

‘Wake up, Kay!’ Shirley stood before her.

‘Wake up?’

‘You were miles away. I would have said you were thinking about your triumph except you looked so bloody miserable. What’s wrong?’

Kay took a deep breath and dragged up a smile. She didn’t want to tell Shirley that she desperately wanted someone to share her feelings with, because she didn’t want to appear to be sorry for herself. However, what she did say was true enough. ‘There’s nothing wrong, it’s just that I feel a bit deflated. While I was acting I was in a different world, and I was someone else entirely. It was exciting. Now it’s over and I’m back down to earth.’