The Melody Girls (23 page)

‘You're thinking, not like me?' Josh asked wryly as they drove through the West End.

‘I didn't say that.'

He shrugged over the wheel. ‘Look, can you really not spare more time for me this afternoon? Maybe we could just go to the Botanics? Walk a little?'

‘All right,' she conceded, ‘but I really don't want to be out too long.'

‘Fine. I promise I'll get you back to those damned arrangements any time you say.'

Neither spoke on the short drive to the Botanic Gardens, favourite walking place for Edinburgh folk and visitors, the Scottish answer to Kew, complete with Palm House, glasshouses, exotic trees and a lake with ducks.

Lorna was thinking of what she could possibly say to Josh. Tell him the truth? She had a son, who was Rod Warren's boy, back home with her mother? Even to imagine his reaction was too much for her mind to accept. All that would happen, she knew, was that this budding relationship would snap as easily as one clipped off a flower. At this early stage, it would be easy for him just to give her up. A woman with another man's child, and that man being Rod Warren? Tell him, tell him, she told herself. Watch his face.

But as he parked the car and turned to look down at her, his gaze melting into hers, she felt the sharp pain of rejection almost as though it had already happened and decided she need say nothing yet. Obviously, he would have to be told of Sam if their relationship really developed. But why not wait till then? With huge inward relief, she made the decision.

They left the car and began to walk through the tree-lined gardens, pausing at the lake to watch children feeding the ducks, smiling at the activity.

‘Here's a bench,' Josh said, when they turned towards one of the great glasshouses. ‘Like to sit for a while, if it isn't too cold?'

The April wind was certainly not warm, but they sat close on the bench and after a moment held hands and looked at each other.

‘May I ask you again why you're holding away from me?' Josh said quietly. ‘Don't say we are together now. You know what I mean, don't you?'

‘Yes,' she said with a sigh. ‘I know what you mean.'

‘Is it because of Rod? Is he still in your mind?'

‘No, he's water under the bridge.'

‘He hurt you, though, didn't he? Maybe he's made you afraid? Of being hurt again?'

‘We hurt each other. Because we wanted different things.'

‘If it isn't Rod,' Josh said slowly, ‘it must be me. Maybe you haven't forgiven me yet, for the way I used to be?' He pulled his hands from hers. ‘Certainly haven't forgiven myself.'

‘Most men in bands feel the way you did. I don't know why, but they're just suspicious of women players. See them as rivals, I suppose, because they have to admit, the girls know how to play.'

‘So childish,' Josh was muttering, as two red spots burned darkly in his cheeks. ‘Can you believe it – I thought you'd be taking all my solos? You were so lovely, I guessed Luke was going to push you forward, make you the star. It didn't seem fair.'

‘And it wouldn't have been, only he never wanted to do that. I was just somebody he could pay less money to, that was all.'

Scarcely listening, Josh was dwelling on the past. ‘So, I threw away my chances, didn't I? For the sake of pride, I let Rod Warren move in and by the time I realized what I was feeling for you, it was too late.' He raised his eyes to hers. ‘Too late to make you think of me.'

When she looked away, he caught her hand again. ‘It's not too late, though, is it? Because Rod's gone. He's water under the bridge. That's what you said, isn't it?'

‘Yes, and it's true. I don't think of him now.'

‘So why won't you let yourself think of me? Is it because you remember the way I was?'

‘I do think of you, Josh. I like to be with you.'

‘But you're afraid of getting in too deep? Just want to get on with your career?'

‘Maybe.' She pushed her bright hair from her face. ‘Maybe it's that, Josh.'

‘Lorna, don't be afraid!' he cried, putting his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. ‘Please, just relax. Meet me, go out with me, see how things go. And I promise, if you do, there'll be no strings.'

Were there people around? She found she didn't care. As she drew away to let her eyes go over his face so finely lit with feeling, she knew she was going to see him again, whatever the cost. Maybe she was taking a risk, but life was full of risks. ‘Meet me, go out with me, see how things go,' he'd said . . . That's what she would do.

‘The problem's going to be,' she whispered, her voice shaking a little, ‘that we have so few chances to meet.'

‘Don't you worry, we'll make chances,' he told her, his own voice shaking. And then they kissed, very gently, as though honouring a pact, and stood up together, to walk slowly, arm in arm, back to the car.

Outside her flat, they stood on the step, their eyes examining the new person each had become, for already their commitment had brought change. They were not the same people who had set out to the Italian restaurant earlier that day.

‘Good luck with your arrangements,' Josh said hoarsely.

‘To tell you the truth, I'm just longing for George to come back.'

‘You'll do well. I know your talents.' He laughed a little. ‘Used to think I could give you some tips for the sax – you know, different fingering, glissando, all that stuff. Found you knew it all.'

‘Oh, my sax playing is OK, but with arrangements, you need to know everyone else's instruments, too, and what goes where.' She was still studying his face, not really caring what she was saying. ‘As I say, though, I'm improving. I hope.'

‘Of course, you are improving.' Josh looked round at passers by, then kissed her briefly on the cheek. ‘When can we meet, then?'

‘I don't know. We'll have to see.'

‘I'll ring you?'

‘Yes, ring me.' As he reluctantly turned to go, she called to him. ‘And, Josh, thank you for the lunch. I loved it.'

‘The first of many, I hope. But thank you for coming.' He smiled, slightly bowing his dark head. ‘Better find my car, I suppose.
Arrividerci
, Lorna.'

She made no reply, only waved, until he had turned the corner of the street, making for where he'd parked the car, and was lost to her. Now, she thought, pretending to be her old efficient self, for those arrangements. But it took her some time to do anything, except sit in her chair and face what she had taken on. Taken on and would not let go. For, already, she was looking forward to another meeting with Josh.

Forty-One

He did ring, and soon. The next morning, in fact, as Lorna was cleaning her teeth.

‘Why, Josh, it's you!' she cried, through a mouthful of toothpaste. ‘I thought it was an emergency, someone in the band.'

‘Only me, I'm afraid,' he said smoothly. ‘This seemed the best time to be sure of catching you.'

‘It's certainly early enough. What did you want to ask me?'

‘You know what I want to ask you. When can we meet?'

‘Honestly, Josh, I've only just got up – can't think straight. When do you suggest?'

‘This afternoon? Jackie's called a rehearsal this morning, but we'll be finished by lunch time.'

‘I'm afraid I've an appointment at the King's. We're playing there next week. I want to see the set up.'

‘Tomorrow, then? Anything wrong with tomorrow?'

‘Tomorrow will be fine. But make it after lunch and meet me here.'

‘Too late to worry about the girls at the studio, isn't it?' he asked, and she could tell he was smiling.

‘Maybe, but I'd be happier if you came here.'

‘Anything to make you happy, Lorna. I'll be with you at one.'

When he had put the phone down, she stared at it for a moment, then moved to the bathroom where she looked at her face in the mirror. Oh, Lord! Good job Josh couldn't see what a fright she looked, with her hair uncombed and a white ring of drying toothpaste round her mouth! Time to make herself look normal. Her hand on the washbasin tap was trembling.

When he arrived at the flat the following day, punctually at one o'clock, she had regained her calm. A little time away from him had made her wonder if she might be over emphasizing his feelings – and her own. There would be no point in seeing more than there was in this new relationship. For the more there was, the more there would be to worry about.

As soon as he came in, though, and stood looking round at where she lived, all her doubts of his feelings and hers were swept away in a rush of pleasure at seeing him again. Worry was there, of course, but lost in the cascade as she worked hard to regain her earlier composure, while looking around for her jacket and fussing with her hair.

‘Nice place,' he murmured, helping her to put the jacket on. ‘You shared this with Flo?'

‘Yes, she still has stuff here, but she'll be moving into George's flat when she comes back.'

‘You'll miss her.'

‘I will. She's great company.'

‘But then it might be good to have the flat to yourself.'

‘Oh, yes.' She glanced at him from the hall mirror. ‘You don't share with anyone?'

He grinned. ‘No one would put up with me. Anyway, my place is nothing like this. Just a one-bedroomed flat in a modern block near the infirmary. People all around, making as much noise as possible.'

‘Well, I've an old biddy on the ground floor who acts like she's my keeper, and upstairs there's a family who wear clogs day and night – or seems like it.' She waved a hand. ‘But, I like it here and reckon I'm lucky to have it. Like to look round?'

‘Please.'

Her high-ceilinged sitting room, still showing New Town elegance, he had already admired, but then she let him peep into the kitchen, created from somebody's long ago study, and the well-appointed bathroom. When they reached the bedrooms, Lorna pointed out first Flo's, then her own, but Josh, making no comment, only nodded from the doorway and returned to the hall.

Had he been embarrassed to see her bed? Lorna wondered, for he seemed to be avoiding her eye. Normally as straight as a soldier, his shoulders were a little hunched as he looked down at his car keys in his hand.

‘Seems funny,' he said, at last raising his eyes.

‘What does?'

‘Well, your having a place like this on your own. An Italian girl, you know, would never be allowed it.'

‘Why not?'

He shrugged. ‘Parents like to keep tabs on daughters.'

‘Heavens above, Josh, I've had the key of the door for some time. I'm fully grown up, I have my own band, I'm making my way – why on earth shouldn't I have my own place to live?'

‘Oh, no reason at all,' He took her hand. ‘I don't necessarily agree with Italian ideas.'

‘That's a relief.'

‘So, where shall we go?' He was brightening as they left the flat and walked to his car. ‘How about Peebles? Have tea at a hotel – and be anonymous?'

‘You think I want to be anonymous?'

‘You give me the feeling you'd like to be.'

‘When I'm a bandleader?'

‘That's the role you've taken on. When you step out of it, you're . . . someone else.' His voice was low but strong, filled with sudden emotion. ‘That's the person I want to know.'

Lorna, opening the passenger door of the car, took her seat without at first answering. But as Josh drove smoothly away, she turned to look at his fine profile.

‘I do want you to know me, Josh. The real me, just as I am.'

‘I'm glad. I want us to know each other.' He flashed her a quick glance. ‘Without secrets, without reserve.'

‘Next stop, Peebles,' she said lightly.

In the splendour of the tea lounge of a grand hotel in Peebles, an ancient royal burgh some miles from Edinburgh, they sat facing each other across scones and fancy cakes the likes of which Lorna hadn't seen for years.

‘Never mind anything else,' she said, delightedly pouring tea, ‘I'd come here for the cakes alone.'

‘Ah, Lorna, it's so good to see you relaxing.' Josh leaned across the table towards her. ‘Now you're becoming your real self, aren't you?' He covered her hand with his. ‘And not shutting me out.'

‘Everything all right, sir?' a waiter asked before Lorna could speak, but Josh nodded.

‘More than all right, thank you.'

‘Very good, sir.'

When the waiter had withdrawn, Lorna looked about her and breathed a sigh of contentment. This vast dining room, where a trio played light music to guests who were only interested in one another, wonderfully suited her mood.

‘It's true, you could be anonymous here,' she said softly. ‘Big hotels – they're the places to lose yourself. I've often thought that, playing at some of the Glasgow ones, and in Edinburgh.'

‘You're not lost now, though,' Josh murmured, playing with her hand. ‘Because I've found you.'

She smiled indulgently. ‘Think I could get my band an engagement here, Josh?'

‘Too noisy. It'd be like playing in a cathedral.'

‘Bet they have a ballroom. We wouldn't be too noisy for that.'

‘I'd better tell Jackie to get in first,' he said impishly. ‘We are rivals, you know.'

She only gave a light-hearted laugh, and Josh raised a hand for the bill.

On the way home, which led through pleasant countryside just coming into the beauty of late spring, their good spirits lasted, buoying them up on billows of well being. It might work out, Lorna, was even thinking, it just might, but when Josh stopped the car in a quiet lay-by, he surprised her by speaking again of Rod.