Winter on the Mersey(69)

‘Are you cold, Mummy?’ Georgie asked, bringing her back down to earth with a bump.

‘Not a bit,’ said Nancy truthfully. She was still in her sensible coat, flat shoes and practical knitted twin-set. But later tonight she’d sneak into the theatre toilets and change into her beautiful silk frock and daring silk underwear, which wouldn’t keep her warm at all. Never mind. Gary would.

‘So I’m meeting him by the stage door at quarter to, because it’s quieter and we’re less likely to see anyone who knows us,’ Nancy said later that evening as Gloria expertly applied her lipstick in the dressing room before the show.

‘Surely if you’re going to sit with him in the front row, then it won’t matter how discreet you try to be beforehand,’ Gloria pointed out. She dusted her nose with the powder puff, then turned her head to the left and the right to check there were no shiny patches on her face. It was important to look the part; her audience expected it of her and she couldn’t let them down. Her beautiful bias-cut silver dress sparkled in the lights ranged around the somewhat tarnished mirror.

‘No, but I can always say he came in with the people sitting on the other side of him and we just got chatting,’ Nancy said quickly. She’d had the bus journey to get her alibi straight if it was needed. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. She was thrilled to bits to have the chance of sitting with Gary in the prime seats, watching her best friend perform.

‘All right, I’ll back you up,’ Gloria said at once without having to be asked. ‘I do like that frock, Nancy. Where did you find it? Do you want to leave your other things in here?’ She pointed to the shabby canvas bag in which Nancy had stuffed the sensible clothes she’d been wearing earlier.

‘Oh, could I? Thanks, Glor.’ Nancy shoved the bag under a chair, once resplendent in gold paint but now very chipped. ‘Gary got it for me, of course. It was my little present – well, it was more like his welcome home present if you get what I mean.’ She rolled her eyes.

Gloria shook her head. ‘You just be careful, Nancy Kerrigan. You’ve been caught out before, remember. We don’t want anything like that to happen again.’

‘Of course I’m being careful,’ Nancy snapped, not wanting to think about the miscarriage that only she and Gloria knew about. ‘This isn’t some wet-behind-the-ears young lad trying it on. Gary’s very mature. He’s a real man.’

‘Keep your hair on, I was only checking,’ said Gloria, not rising to the bait. She couldn’t afford to get het up before singing. Her breathing wouldn’t be right. ‘Well, off you go and meet lover boy, and I’ll see you backstage afterwards.’

‘Break a leg!’ called Nancy brightly, as she hurried from the dingy little room towards the stage door.

‘Don’t you think she’s good?’ Nancy hissed in Gary’s ear, as she hung on to his arm.

‘She sure is,’ said Gary, eyeing Gloria appreciatively from their excellent view in the front row. ‘How did you say you know her?’

‘We grew up on the same street,’ said Nancy proudly. ‘We were in the same class at school and have been best friends ever since we can remember.’

Gary nodded but couldn’t say anything as Gloria started singing her encore, ‘We’ll Meet Again’, and everyone joined in. She sang it as if it was the first time she’d ever done so, giving it all the energy and belief that she knew her audience wanted. People were openly crying by the end, but standing proudly, clapping and cheering as Gloria smiled and smiled, turning and waving to everyone.

Nancy almost burst with pride at her friend’s performance. Having the chance to show her off to Gary was the most special thing she’d ever done. ‘Let’s go while they’re all still applauding,’ she muttered, leading him out of the row and swiftly down some back stairs.

‘I see you know all the secret routes,’ he laughed as he moved quickly after her. Nancy neatly zigzagged around some clothes rails and pushed through a door marked ‘Artists Only’.

‘Of course.’ She turned to face him now they were alone in the cold little corridor, paint peeling from the walls and the lino on the floor cracked and stained. ‘I used to come here with Gloria all the time.’ She flung her arms around his neck.

‘Mixing with the great and the good,’ he teased.

‘I wouldn’t like to say how good we were,’ she said cheekily, taking his arm once more and leading him to Gloria’s dressing room.

‘You sure she won’t mind my being here?’

‘No, she particularly told me to bring you,’ Nancy assured him. ‘She’s very keen to meet you.’

‘Well, likewise,’ said Gary affably, looking around the place. It definitely didn’t match the glamour of the front of house. It could have done with some heating and brighter light bulbs.

The door swung open and in came Gloria, still in performance mode. ‘You must be Gary,’ she said, coming forward to shake his hand. Her smile was radiant and for a moment he was at a loss for words.

‘Gary, this is Gloria,’ said Nancy unnecessarily.

‘De … delighted to meet you,’ he said, finding his voice at last. ‘You were mighty good out there, Miss Arden.’

‘Why thank you,’ Gloria said prettily. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ She batted her eyelashes a little, but was watching him carefully.