And All That Jazz Episode 06
It was Saturday night at Texas Tommy’s and the Original Dixieland Jazz Band were playing up a storm.
The piano was almost bouncing on the tiny stage, with the clarinet players stepping into the crowd and making the girls laugh.
Charlie had been serving non-stop since they opened, but he’d kept looking for the girl with the hazel eyes.
The table she and her hideous boyfriend had been sitting at the week before was taken by another couple.
Yet Charlie kept looking over there, hopefully, constantly disappointed not to see her stole draped on the back of a chair.
Don was right – those types of girls stick to their own kind.
He worked flat out until nine o’clock, when Don tapped him on the shoulder.
“Bernie’s finally here. Why don’t you go for a break?” he suggested.
Charlie had been reluctant to leave the dance hall all evening, but as she clearly wasn’t coming . . .
“Thanks, Don. I’ll be out back if you need me.”
He tugged the bar towel from his shoulder, laying it over Bernie’s.
“Nice of you to join us, Bern. Half the night’s over,” Charlie joked.
Bernie flushed, laughing.
“Yeah, sorry, mate,” he apologised. “But I knew you’d never cope without me.”
Charlie chuckled, untied his apron and lifted the flap in the bar, stepping on to the edge of the dance floor.
He liked being part of the throng, enjoying the music without having to wash glasses or serve customers.
Pressing towards the stage, he watched the trombone player messing with the audience, nudging their backs with his slide when they got too close.
“They’re terrific, aren’t they?” a voice stated.
She was beside him, the girl with the hazel eyes.
She was still wearing her hat and coat, as if she’d just walked in.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” Charlie said, hoping it didn’t sound too much like an accusation.
She rolled her eyes.
“I was supposed to finish my shift at six but my supervisor made me stay and hold the hand of some witless new girl who doesn’t know her doll’s eye from her speak key.”
When Charlie looked confused, she smiled.
“Sorry, telephonist talk.” She started unbuttoning her coat. “I’ll check my things.
“Shall we have a drink?”
He smiled, shaking his head.
“I can’t. I was just going out for my break. I’m back to work in a few minutes,” he told her.
His heart gave a little leap of joy at how crestfallen she looked.
“What a shame,” she said.
Charlie felt a pang as he pulled away from her towards the door.
No point in thinking overly about her, lovely though she was.
“Charlie!” She was beside him then, one hand on his arm. “Where do you go for your break?
“I’ve been locked in the exchange all day with the horrid Mrs Haden.
“I could do with some fresh air. If you wouldn’t mind company, that is.”
How did she know his name?
Charlie could feel the heat rising over his collar just at the thought.
“Aren’t you with your chap?” he questioned.
She frowned, then pulled a sour face like a child sucking rhubarb.
“Freddie, you mean? Lord, he’s not my chap! I’ve known him since I was six,” she replied. “He’s more like a brother and not a nice one.
“Come on, you can tell me all about yourself.” She slipped her arm through his and pulled him towards the door.
Charlie usually sat in a little courtyard by the back door, surrounded by bins and empty beer bottles.
But the thought of Lizzy sitting there was too awful, so they went to sit on the bench outside the club.
They sat side by side, omnibuses trundling past, the sound rumbling through the soles of their shoes.
“I didn’t know you worked at the exchange,” Charlie said eventually.
“Oh, yes,” she confirmed. “I was a clerk at a builder’s merchants before that, but it was so terribly dull.”
“You like the exchange better?”
She nodded.
“How long have you been working here?” she asked in turn.
“Six months.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.” He hadn’t meant to sound so enthusiastic, but he couldn’t help himself.
“In fact, Don’s just offered me the manager’s job when he leaves,” Charlie added.
“Do you play?”
He smiled shyly.
“Trumpet,” he revealed.
She put her hand on his arm again.
“I knew it! I could just tell. Were you in a military band?” she asked again.
“No, a stretcher bearer, but I always loved playing.”
He’d practised a lot before joining up, playing along to sheet music he bought from a corner shop.
But his trumpet had stayed in its case since he’d returned from France.
It had felt wrong being transported by the music, when so many wouldn’t have the chance to hear anything again.
She smiled a sweet, sad smile.
“It’s all right, you know. You are allowed to enjoy surviving,” she reassured him, as if she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Oh, I know, it’s just . . .” Charlie murmured.
“Yes, I know,” she said, staring at the pavement. “I was at Zuydcoote, at the sanatorium – have you heard of it?”
He nodded. He knew of it, though fortunately was never injured badly enough to go there.
“Were you a nurse?” he enquired.
“No, nothing as fancy as that,” Lizzy replied. “VAD. I was mopping floors and emptying chamber pots for three years.”
He’d heard stories about the VADs, how kind some of them were to the injured men.
“I was such a silly goose when I first got there,” she said, shaking her head. “Thought it would be an adventure.
“Then you’re there at three in the morning, holding the hand of a soldier little more than a boy, crying for his mother as he slips away.”
She looked so sad he wanted to hold her hand, just to press some warmth into her and dispel the memories.
But his hand stayed on his knee.
How could he ever tell her the truth about his own war?
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“But,” she went on, “we came home and so many didn’t.
“You know, my sister Dora lost her husband. Since he died, she lives her life in the darkness, never enjoying a thing, never really living.
“I think that’s just awful, don’t you?”
She looked intensely at him now, those eyes staring deeply into his.
“I was seeing a chap for a while. We weren’t engaged, though he might have asked me on his next leave if he’d made it home.
“I always feel I should be living for him; that all of us should live for the loved ones we lost.”
Charlie was so engrossed in what she was saying that the sound of the door opening behind them made him jump.
It was Bernie, giving him a quizzical look.
“Don sent me to see where you were,” he said.
“I’ll be right in.”
Lizzy smiled winningly as she stood up, smoothing the front of her skirt.
“Sorry. I need to get back,” Charlie apologised, hoping she hadn’t noticed his flushed cheeks.
“Of course,” she said, grinning impishly, “and I need to see the band before they pack up.”
To be continued…