Mothers and Daughters by Leah Fleming Read Free Book Online Page A

that?’
    ‘Do the last bit and chorus all over again, and enjoy your moment!’
    Back they went, smiling, tripping over the wires in shock. Was ‘Last Train to San Fernando’ going to be the first train on the Silkies’ route to fame?
    Sadly not. The Silkies got a special commendation but they didn’t make the last six. Neither did the Railroaders. Neville was looking at his cousins’ act with fresh eyes.
    ‘You need to polish this act – more instruments, more songs, a little more pizzazz – but you were good on stage.’ Then he whispered to Connie, ‘If only Joy wasn’t so dumpy; she spoils the look of you.’
    ‘She can’t help her puppy fat,’ Connie replied.
    ‘It’s Auntie Su who stuffs her with chips and puddings. She could be a real looker.’
    ‘Don’t you dare say anything. She’s very sensitive about her size,’ Connie warned, making sure Joy was out of earshot.
    ‘I think you could do with a mixed group – boys on drums and bass. I like the name though: smooth as silk … Let me think about it.’
    And somehow after that Neville took them overas if they were his idea; introduced them to his own group, Barry, Stan and Roger, all spotty herberts in flannel shirts, who were not that keen on mixing with them either. After a few dismal rehearsals when everyone sat round listening to Neville sounding forth, his gang walked away to found yet another skiffle group, leaving him in the lurch.
    ‘You’re much better than them. I’ll try to get you some gigs,’ he smiled. And soon the Silkies were entertaining round the district for little more than a round of Vimto and crisps. Neville somehow pushed his way up front. He appointed himself as their manager on the strength of the fact that he had more access to a private telephone than they did. They even returned to Zion Youth Club to do a gig, but the minister was not keen on devil’s music so they had to tone it down to Negro spirituals, ‘Michael, Row the Boat Ashore’, and Rosa belting out a rendition of ‘I Believe’, the big hit that was almost a hymn.
    They’d packed the schoolroom with friends and family. Even Auntie Ivy turned up, with Uncle Levi on her arm for once, looking like Shirley Bassey in her big fur stole. Nev was so embarrassed.
    ‘Mother, this is only a youth club gig, not the London Palladium.’
    ‘Darling, it’s the beginning of big things for you, but I’d get rid of the little dumpling on the back row. She spoils the act,’ said Ivy, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, including Joy.

    Connie saw Joy’s face crumple. ‘Take no notice, she’s only jealous. We’re young and she’s lost her figure and her face.’
    ‘But it’s true. Look at me – I’m fat and horrible,’ Joy cried, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
    ‘You’ll grow out of it … Any road, who cares? You keep the beat better than anyone else. You’re one of us, one of the team.’ It was the best Connie could say to comfort her cousin. Why did Ivy always spoil their fun? Why did she hate them so?

5
Joy
    There was a window in the form room on the top storey of Moor Bank County Grammar School that looked out over the centre of the town, over the roof tiles and chimneys and the steeple of the Our Lady of Sorrows and the railway sidings, across to the great chimney of Standard’s Cotton Mill and Magellan’s Foundry. In a gap Joy could see the turrets of Connie’s school as it nestled in the foot of the hillside before the moors stretched far into the distance. She knew they would be finishing the last two periods of art. She knew Connie’s timetable better than her own.
    She sometimes sneaked back up into this form just to catch a glimpse of Connie’s world because it seemed better than her scruffy building sandwiched in the middle of town; its red brick blackened with soot. She was supposed to be finishing off her chemistry, wrapped in her blue cotton overall that barelystretched across her tummy. They were doing experiments