Sample

ONE

 

Tuesday 24th December

‘I’m so sorry Ella. He rang this morning.  It was a last minute decision by the record company.’  Tad Benedict looked into the face of the pretty dark haired girl at the bar and really felt for her.  All around them, in his club, the Mill, people were in celebratory mood.  It was Christmas Eve; laughter and music filled the place.  Currently the dance floor was packed with revellers dancing to Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Bad Moon Rising.  Not the night at all to be delivering news like this - he could almost reach out and touch her disappointment.
      ‘Switzerland?’  Ella’s grey eyes clouded and she shook her head as if she could not quite grasp what he was saying.
      ‘Yes, one of their record company’s other groups, the Spectators, were due to take part in a Christmas Eve live special out there.   Aaron King, the lead singer, decided to get in some skiing when he arrived and is currently in hospital with concussion and a compound fracture to his left leg.  So the Attitude were flown out last minute to take their place.   Matt phoned from Zurich this afternoon, that was the first I knew of it.’
      Ella felt Tad’s hand on her shoulder as the news sank in and bitter disappointment washed over her. Switzerland.  It might as well be the other side of the moon.  And who wouldn’t be disappointed on a night like this?  She had been waiting since May to be reunited with him; had thought of nothing else.  May - that had been a whirlwind time she remembered; Matt’s band, the Attitude had been discovered, had a number one hit and been whisked away to London where their record company had completely taken over their lives - first an album, then a UK tour.  He kept in touch with post cards from each of their tour stops and had promised to return home for the festive season; to meet her here in the club on Christmas Eve. The record company had no plans for them until spring he said.  Ironically, she decided, that was probably why he was now in Switzerland and not here.
      This was to have been her moment - an opportunity to reveal her true feelings.   To cut through all his diffidence and face him with the fact that what they had had gone beyond friendship.  That she loved him.
      ‘When will he be back?’  She asked, hoping that at least they would have New Year together and her opportunity had not been lost.
      ‘He didn’t say, but as soon as I hear anything I will let you know, I promise.’  Tad squeezed her shoulder, ‘Sorry I can’t be more helpful, but that’s as much as I know at the moment.’
      Across the room, he saw Ella’s two friends Issy Llewellyn and Jenny Taylor coming off the dance floor.  Time to leave, to let the sisterhood take over to provide the help and support needed to repair the damage he had just inflicted.  
      Tad was a philosophical individual with an upbeat outlook on life. Although there had been this setback over Christmas - something that had also left his wife Faye frustrated and upset - he was sure it was just a temporary glitch.  In a couple of days he guessed his son would more than likely be returning to the UK and before they all knew it he would be back home to see the New Year in with friends and family in style.  In no time at all everyone would have forgotten tonight’s disappointment.  He wished he could given Ella these crumbs of comfort to buoy her up but was aware that only if he had been dealing in definites would his words have held any comfort for her this evening after receiving such disappointing news. 
      As he skirted the bar, he stopped and ordered a bottle of his best champagne. ‘For the three young ladies in the corner.’ he nodded to where the girls sat, Jenny with her arm around Ella’s shoulder, all of them deep in conversation. As the person responsible for ruining not only her evening but possibly Christmas as well, it was the least he could do.

 

Friday 27th December, 1968

‘Who was at the door?’ Faye called from the kitchen where she was making final preparations for their lunch.
      Tad walked in from the hall, he was smiling.  ‘Telegram from Matt,’ He waved the envelope at her, tore it open and began to read, ‘Well! We’re invited to tea at the Ritz to make up for him not getting home for Christmas.’
      ‘Or New Year!’  Faye reminded him, ‘It seems to me, that management at Centaur treat the Attitude like a piece of merchandise.’
      ‘Sadly that is exactly what they are Faye, a money-making machine.’ 
      ‘But Christmas and New Year, Tad!’  She raised her hands in exasperation, ‘People should be home with their families!’
      ‘I know; it was unfortunate that Swiss millionaire caught the show and thought it would be a good idea for them to stay on and play at his daughter’s party.  Still, Matt says Centaur cut a good deal for the band.’
      ‘For themselves more likely!’   Faye was cynical.
      ‘Faye!’  Tad crossed to where she stood. ‘Calm down; we have it in here in black and white now,’ he waved the telegram at her.   ‘A table for four is booked for two thirty on the 10th of January at the Ritz.’
      She frowned. ‘Who else is coming?’
      ‘Ella.’
      Faye made a face.
      ‘She’s his friend, Faye.’
      ‘Her mother won’t let her go you know,’ she said, turning back to the cooker and stirring the gravy vigorously, ‘not in a million years.’
      ‘Probably not, although maybe it’s worth a trip round to Cambridge Crescent to try to melt that hard heart of hers.’
      ‘It’s your head on the block.’
      ‘Ah, but if I catch mother and daughter together, it may just swing things in my favour.’

Later that afternoon Tad pulled up outside the Carpenter house.  As he reached the front gate, he noticed Mel’s red Sunbeam Alpine sitting alone on the driveway. ‘Damn,’ he muttered under his breath.  Ella was out, no point staying; he hesitated then turned quickly away, deciding to return later.
      ‘Did you want something?’ 
      He turned at the sound of the clipped English accent; the front door was open and Mel was standing there, the very essence of domesticity in flowery apron and yellow rubber gloves.
      ‘Ah, Mrs Carpenter.  Good afternoon!’  He turned and gave her a cheerful smile.
      ‘If you were hoping to catch Liam,’ She said, peeling off her gloves as she reached him,  ‘you’re out of luck I‘m afraid.  He’s on the golf course.’
      ‘Liam?  No actually it was you I came to see.’
      ‘Me?’  She gazed at him stony-faced, ‘Whatever for?’
      ‘I need to ask your permission for something.’
      ‘Well, fire away!’
      ‘Matt’s has been out of the country; he will be returning to London on the 10th of January and he’s invited us up to the Ritz for tea.  Ella is included in that invitation.’
      The expression on Mel’s perfectly made up face told him what was coming even before she had opened her mouth to reply.
      ‘I don’t think so,’ she said with a regal shake of her blonde head, ‘You obviously don’t realise that Ella left your son and all that pop nonsense behind her some time ago.’
      Tad looked puzzled, ‘Well, she was very disappointed he didn‘t get home for Christmas; they’d made arrangements to meet at the club on Christmas Eve, you know.’
      ‘They’d what!’  The annoyance that crossed Mel’s face said this was not at all what she wanted to hear.  Tad realised he had accidentally scored an own goal; if he had thought he was going to persuade Mel to change her mind, he now knew that was definitely not going to happen.
      ‘Please,’ She said graciously, ‘do thank your son for his kind invitation, but I’m afraid my daughter wouldn’t have been able to make it anyway.  She is in Meridan Cross with my father’s family and not expected back until the fifth.  Then she is returning to college.  It would be totally impossible for her to take a day off, her studies are extremely important.  Now, if you’ll excuse me!’
      Audience over then, Tad thought, half amused, half irritated as he watched her walk back to the house.  As she reached the door, she turned with an arrogant smirk, ‘The Ritz indeed!  Don’t you realise you have to book weeks in advance to get a table there Mr Benedict?  I think your son has rather grandiose ideas!’

‘Told you didn’t I?’  Faye said when Tad reached home, ‘The woman’s a complete bitch!’
      ‘She certainly is.  Poor old Liam.’  Tad paused for a moment, and then looked at Faye thoughtfully, ‘I could try contacting Ella at her grandparents’, I suppose.’
      ‘Tad,’ Faye shook her head, ‘No.  Let’s leave well enough alone shall we?  If you go against Mel’s wishes, she will cause nothing but trouble and that is the last thing we both need.  We’ll just have to explain the situation when we see Matt and hope he’s not too disappointed.’

 

TWO

 

Friday 10th January

‘This is lovely, just lovely,’ Faye Benedict gazed admiringly at the plush surroundings of the Ritz Hotel where she sat with Tad and Matt in the Palm Court about to take afternoon tea.
      ‘I wanted to do something really special for you both,’ Dark haired Matt smiled, looking at his mother sitting there, slim and fashionable in her deep turquoise knitted suit. ‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘Centaur has not only managed to wreck Christmas and New Year, they have now decided to send us to Ireland as a post script to our UK tour.  So as there’s no way I can get home right now,’ he gazed around the room, ‘I thought maybe this would go some way to soften the blow.’
      ‘Isn’t there a waiting list though?’  Tad was curious, remembering Mel’s caustic comment, ‘How did you manage to book so quickly?’
      Matt grinned, ‘Didn’t you know Dad?  Fame opens doors - or gets you a table.’
      ‘Well I‘m glad it has.’  Faye helped herself to a sliver of smoked salmon sandwich.  ‘This is simply wonderful!’
      ‘Yes it is,’ Tad’s handsome face broke into a smile, ‘and it’s good to see you looking so well; your new career obviously agrees with you.’
      ‘It does - I love every minute of it.  I am really happy, although…’  He gave a sigh, ‘I wish Ella could have made it here today with both of you.’
      ‘I am afraid her mother wouldn‘t entertain the thought of her coming up here.’ Tad said as the waiter poured their tea.
      ‘I think Mel Carpenter has very specific ideas about who her daughter spends time with,’ Faye added.  Ella Kendrick was bad news; secretly she was glad that Mel had sabotaged Matt’s invitation. She wanted her completely out of her son’s life. 
      ‘I‘m sorry, I know how disappointed you must be, but I’ve got an idea that might help.’ Tad reached into his jacket, pulled out his wallet and took out one of his business cards, handing it to his son.  ‘Why don‘t you write a contact address on the back of this, so she can write to you?  I know it’s not perfect but at least she will be able to keep in touch with you regularly.  And I promise I’ll deliver it to her in person.’
      ‘Thanks, that’s a great idea.’ Matt took it from him and finding a pen began to write.
      ‘Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll eventually get to see each other.’ Tad said, as Matt handed back the card and he slipped it back into his wallet.   ‘Now, I suggest you have one of these sandwiches, before your mother eats them all.’ He retrieved the china plate from the table and presented it to his son.  ‘She seems to have developed a thing about smoked salmon.’

‘I don’t know why you did that thing with the address.’ Faye said later in the car on their way home. ‘He really doesn’t need that sort of distraction.   It could affect his career.’
      ‘It’s only natural he wants to keep in touch.’ Tad argued. ‘They were friends for a long time - remember, Ella was with him from the beginning of the band.’
      ‘I was hoping that phase of his life was over.’  Faye said dismissively, ‘You heard him, Ireland, then a European tour lined up for later this year.  He should be moving on, developing his talent, not mooning over a girl who is destined to become a brood mare for the Macayne dynasty.’
      ‘Faye, that’s an awful way of putting it and it’s her mother’s plan, not hers,’ Tad replied.  ‘Ella’s nobody’s fool; she may be spending time with Andy but she’s smart enough to know that he’ll never settle down with one woman.  He’ll always be looking to bed women when the opportunity arises, it’s the way he is.’
      ‘The Abbotsbridge Stud!’  Faye’s words brought a smile to her face.
      ‘Now that is a term I do agree with!’ He laughed, ‘Come on, cheer up, as I said, I’m sure everything will work out for the best, it usually does.’  
      ‘The only problem is,’ Faye gave her husband a straight look, ‘I don‘t think my idea of working out for the best is the same as yours.’
      ‘Oh, why not?’
      ‘Because you like her Tad, and I don’t.  Believe me, I know what I see, and she is trouble!’

 

Saturday 11th January

As the light dwindled on a grey winter’s afternoon, Issy sat in the middle of the huge newly plastered room that would soon become the Brendon Banqueting Suite.  The Bridge Hotel, run by her parents David and Cheryl Llewellyn was in the throes of expanding its business and Issy, as newly-appointed Function Manager, was going to run it.  She smiled to herself as she looked around the empty room.   Another six weeks and they could open for business.  Even in its present state, she could clearly see how it would all look.    Green carpeted floors, polished oak for the dance area, cream walls and the inclusion of fresh seasonal flowers to accompany each booking.  She had spent hours looking at cutlery and crockery samples, the match had to be just right.  Her father had given her a free hand; this was her baby and she was going to do everything possible to make sure it was a success.
      Perched on an upturned crate surrounded by tins of paint and electrical contractor’s cabling she was deep in thought when she caught the sound of noisy footsteps approaching.  Looking up she saw Mick Taylor, hands thrust into the pockets of a sheepskin coat glistening with snow, coming towards her.
      ‘Mick!’She got to her feet, feeling an immediate prickle of annoyance.  She watched him approach, looking like a younger version of his father - solid and square shouldered, sandy hair falling in his eyes.  As he drew closer, she could see the dusting of childhood freckles that trailed across his cheeks and witnessed the emergence of a big grin, something else that always managed to irritate her.     He didn’t even have to open his mouth, just being there was enough.  She knew exactly why she felt the way she did - the accident which had happened when she was fourteen. 
      Totally smitten with trainee teacher Greg Davies, she was over the moon when he came into the Hotel for lunch one Saturday.  She made a point of being the one who took his order, stopping to have a short chat with him.  She remembered carrying his lunch across the restaurant so carefully, wanting everything to be perfect.  As she reached his table, the door next to it, leading into the hotel lobby burst open, crashing into her and knocking her off balance.  Mr Davies’ lunch shot out of her hands and straight onto the floor, leaving Issy sprawled uncomfortably face down in his lap.  Her mother was there in an instant, rescuing her from her predicament and calling for someone to clear up the mess on the floor.  Mr Davies sat there looking at her, red faced with embarrassment, while the other diners stared at her with a mixture of shock and amusement. The culprit turned out to be Mick, standing there with a tin of paint in each hand and that stupid, stupid grin on his face.   His excuse was that he thought he was entering the storeroom and having his hands full had simply elbowed the door open.  His grin resurrected those embarrassing events every time it surfaced and she hated him for it.  Not only was he a clumsy oaf, but his actions had ensured she ended up being the laughing stock of the school.
      ‘Everything is just perfect,’ She eyed him coolly as he reached her, ‘Dad’s extremely pleased.’ 
      ‘Sorry I’m not with you Iz.’ His grey-blue eyes gazed at her blankly.
      ‘The work,’ She slowed her words, feeling impatience begin to well up inside her,  ‘Your boys have done a marvellous job so far.  Isn’t that why you are here?   For a progress check?’ 
      ‘Actually, my little Welsh wizard,’ He rubbed his hands together, ‘I am about to be your first customer.  My wedding reception.’  He said to her empty stare, ‘I want to book this place for Saturday 14th June.’
      She gazed silently out of the window for a moment.  She had completely forgotten he was still engaged to the hateful red-headed girl-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks, Nina Harrison.   How strange, she realised that until this moment she had never given him or his situation even a passing thought.  Now she was reminded of it, for some reason it annoyed her intensely.   Added to that he was grinning again, making her feel even more confrontational.
      ‘You’re still determined to go ahead with this madness then, are you?’
      ‘You sound just like my mother,’ His smile disappeared and he became defensive, ‘I’m not mad, I happen to love her.’
      ‘How come you’re booking the reception anyway?’ She frowned, ‘Isn’t that something the bride’s parents usually take care of?’
      ‘Issy, be sensible,’ He answered in a tone she found annoyingly patronising, ‘The Harrisons haven’t got the kind of money it takes to book a place like this.   Nina wants the best and I’m going to see she has it.  So I told her father I’d cover the cost of the reception.’  He said with a satisfied smile.
      Issy gave a derisory snort.  Nina wanted the best did she?   ‘You’re daft Mick Taylor, do you know that?  Just plain daft!  She’s got you dangling on a string.  Wedding?  Wake up!  She’s got no intention of marrying you! You’re a means to an end.’
      ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
      ‘She wants Andy Macayne back and you’re the bait dangling on the hook.’
      ‘No way!  Not after what she went through with him.  She loves me now and she‘s going to be my wife.  Now,’ he said irritably, ‘Do you want to book this reception for me?  Because if not, there are plenty of other places who will.’
      ‘Wait there!’ She pushed past him impatiently, ‘Never let it be said I turn business away.  Oh, and by the way,’ she threw over her shoulder as she left the room, ‘there’s a ten percent non-returnable deposit!’
      As Mick watched her leave, he could almost reach out and touch her hostility.  From the day he had first seen her outside Kingsford High with his sister Jenny eight years ago, he knew his heart belonged to no one else.  In her fair hair and blue eyes he glimpsed the woman she would eventually become.  And seeing that, he knew he had no choice but to wait for her.  However, the unfortunate incident, which had left Issy sprawled in the lap of one of her favourite teachers, appeared to have wrecked his dreams.   She was unforgiving, hostile.   Viewed him with scorn and picked on his weaknesses.  Rode out to do battle with him on every occasion she could.  He had tried everything possible to make his peace with her, but nothing had worked.   Now reluctantly, he had given up on the possibility of them ever getting together and turned his affections in another direction  Oh yes, he and Nina had a lot in common; they had both been rejected by those they really loved.  He was under no illusions; they were both taking second best, but somehow he felt there was a just a chance they could find real happiness together.
      ‘Hello Ella, I’ve been looking for you. You’ve been very elusive.’
      Buying a round of drinks at the bar, Ella turned and found herself looking at a smiling Tad Benedict.
      She smiled back.  ‘I’ve been in Meridan Cross for New Year.  Well, I didn’t really feel like coming to the Mill for the celebrations as Matt wasn’t going to be here.’
      ‘Yes, bit of a disappointing time all round wasn’t it?  We all missed him.’
      ‘Yes, ‘she nodded. ‘But I gather you’ve come with good news now.’
      ‘Sort of.  Although, I’m afraid he still isn’t going to be around for a while.’
      ‘Really?’  She gave a disappointed sigh.
      ‘The Attitude are off to Ireland for a few weeks, final leg of their tour.’
      ‘But I thought they had finished?’
      ‘So did we, but the record company felt it would be a good idea to send them on what Matt called a post script to their UK tour.’
      ‘You‘ve spoken to him?’
      ‘Yes.’  Tad was relieved at the way she had phrased the question.  It avoided the need to lie.  He still felt angry with Mel for being so pointlessly mean-minded and spiteful over the invitation.   ‘After that,’ he continued, ‘they are off to Europe.  However,’ he paused, pulling the business card from his top pocket.  ‘I have managed to obtain an address for Matt which will mean anything you write will automatically get sent on.  There may be a bit of a time lapse but you’ll be able to keep in regular touch until he’s back.’
      ‘Thank you,’ She took it from him. ‘Do you know when that will be?’
      ‘Early spring I’m told.’
      ‘Unless, of course, the record company decides to send them to Kathmandu?’
      Tad laughed.  ‘I wouldn‘t put it past them - but no,  Matt has a new album to write and he’s told them he wants to take time out to do it.  Reading between the lines I think Centaur is beginning to realise how hard they’ve driven the boys.  He’ll be home when he says he will, don’t worry!’
      She watched him walk away into the dimness of the club.  Turning the card over in her hand she felt a small rush of happiness.  Everything was still on hold, but there was light at the end of the tunnel.  He would be coming home, and when he did she knew just what she was going to do.  Making her way back to the table with the drinks she saw Issy and Jenny’s curious expressions.
      ‘Good news?’  Jenny asked as Ella set the three glasses down on the table.
      ‘As a matter of fact, yes!’  Ella smiled.  
      ‘When’s he coming home then?’  Issy said picking up her glass.
      ‘Not until the spring.  But -’ She waved the card at them both, ‘I have an address, I’m going to write to him!’

 

Monday 10th February, 1969

Ella was locking her Mini when she caught sight of Jenny crossing the road towards the college.  
      ‘Guess what I’ve got?’ She said excitedly, pulling an envelope from her pocket as she caught up with Jenny. ‘I managed to intercept the postman on my way here.’
      ‘Well open it then!  What does he have to say?’
      Ella tore open the envelope and pulled out its contents.  She stood there, the wind teasing her hair, her face tight with concentration as she read.  ‘He got my letter!  They’re in Rome and it’s warm,’ she looked up smiling, ‘Another full house, screaming fans. Oh and typical! Todd jumped fully clothed into the Trevi fountain and had to be pulled out by the Carabinieri.’
      ‘No mention of when he’ll be home then?’
      ‘No, there’s nothing here,’ Ella shook her head. ‘The last letter said late spring.  I guess I’ll just have to be patient,’ she went back to reading the letter. ‘This is strange,’ she made a face. ‘He says he hopes I’ve got over my disappointment at not being able to make tea at the Ritz with his parents in January.  He says maybe just the two of us can do something similar later on in the year…..’
      ‘But you didn’t get an invite, did you?’
      ‘No,’ Ella folded the letter and slipped it into her bag. ‘And no prizes for guessing why not.’
      ‘Your mother?’
      ‘Not my mother,’ Ella shook her head, ‘His!  Faye’s done it again hasn’t she?  I’ve been deliberately left out, just like when the band had their big celebration at the Mill last May.’
      ‘What are you going to do?’ 
      ‘Just ignore it.  I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of knowing I’m aware of what she’s done.   I will get to see him, though - I don’t know when, but it will happen!  And she’s not going to stop me, I won’t let her!’

 

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