The Songbird

"Now! That is your doing. You are so lovely." He reminded me as he joined me on the bed, pulling me to him and enveloping me in his arms.

"Put that where it belongs." I croaked. I lay back opening and lifting my knees to open myself then guiding him to fill me. What a lovely way to start the day.

Breakfast was rather late that morning as our starting the day turned into a very pleasurable experience, again. I was not complaining, but eventually empty stomachs drove us reluctantly from our delightful loving. Croissants, apricot preserve and coffee resolved the other hunger. It was then that slightly depressing thoughts came to me. Jack must have seen my change of expression."Is there something wrong?"

I looked up at him and my eyes moistened. "It was just one of those silly thoughts, Jack. Where do we go from here? I mean much as I would like we cannot be together all the time and I would like to be with you all the time. Your work takes you all over the country and mine is unpredictable. I know we could get some weekends together, but I have the feeling that that will not be enough for me." I could see his mind working and he got up and sat next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders.

"What we have, Cate, is very precious. I didn't say silly things and I doubt that you said silly things when we said that this is for the rest of our lives. That is a long time and in the future we will have together there should be no room for regrets or ideas of missed opportunities. Your career is important, to me as well as you. You know as well as I that fame in the entertainment business is ephemeral. Something good is happening for you and you must see it through. Should the public interest fade away then we should talk. I could sell my agency and retire. That takes one wild card out of the pack. I would be here whenever you want to come or if you wished I could be in London whenever you were there."

I shook my head. "No Jack. If this bubble bursts I would retire from the music business. If you were thinking of retiring then I would rent my flat in London and come here to be with you. What do you think?"

"Would you be happy in my rural retreat?" He had a smile on his face as he asked that.

"Happy? I would be delirious. I was just thinking how much I would save on clothes. I think I would not bother to get dressed at all."

"Well in that case you would have to be prepared for frequent assaults of a sexual nature."

"As long as they were loving sexual assaults I would only scream quietly. Damn! I've got wet just thinking about it."

"Do we go up to bed?" He was already taking off his dressing gown. Mine came off just as quickly. "Forget bed, here on the couch, now! Love me Jack!"

Jack

Cate appropriated one of my shirts secured with one button at her waist which was all she wore for the rest of the weekend, well most of the weekend because I kept taking it off her, something she seemed to enjoy and indeed encouraged. She told me that if the weather was warmer she would probably not bother with clothes at all. "I must have a latent naturist inclination, Jack." She told me. "But only for you. I love the expression on your face when you see me like this. It's full of love and desire. If you were nude as well I would be insatiable. I keep wanting to make love with you anywhere anytime. I think I would like to make love with you al-fresco. After all, you have all this lovely countryside to explore and exploring me while exploring the countryside sounds pretty good to me."

"Well, if you want to be an exhibitionist, I'll get the old tin bath out for you on the terrace." I should have kept my mouth shut as Cate declined to take that as a joke. The gleam in her eye told me she was taking it seriously.

Later that day Cate brought up the subject of my divorce. "Ellie told me about her mum and how she left you. I have to say that was despicable. Did you have thoughts of revenge?"

"The thought came to me, but first I had no idea where they were living; her parents wouldn't tell me either. Second I found out he was a Police Sergeant, so even if I had thoughts of getting some revenge I would have finished being arrested. Later...Well my anger had subsided. I read somewhere that the best revenge is a life lived well. My work has been profitable; most years my income is such that I can invest reasonable sums. Then of course my grandmother's legacy paid for the cottage. She also left me her investment portfolio. Ellie's step-father is still a sergeant and there is little chance of his being promoted. So in comparison you could say that my life is lived well and that could be my revenge.

"Ellis told me about his nasty remarks, and that could well be the reason."

"Possibly. I have been lucky and now it seems that I have hooked up with this super gorgeous woman whose presence thrills me."

"Well if we are talking thrilling shall we..?"

"Oh yeah!"

After all the months when career pressures took their toll I was so relieved that we had arrived at this point. In my heart I knew that there were times when disappointment urged me to give up with Cate. Times when I was selfishly angry, only to be ashamed later. Cate was not in control of her work pattern as I was. When bookings presented themselves she had to fulfil them or get the reputation of being unreliable. I was in no doubt about my feelings for her, and her response indicated that she had the same depth of feeling as I. She had voiced the problem we faced, that of the disparate work patterns. Although I travelled a great deal there was a pattern to my travelling. I could tell you quite accurately where I would be a week from now or even three months from now. Cates' pattern was dictated by what bookings she would get either as Kat Lacey or with the Stela Swing Band. My character tended to the positive rather than negative side, yet even so I knew that relationships rarely survived with long absences. Finding the opportunities to be together in the immediate future was very important. However at this point in time i was fully occupied with planning my attack on the furniture business with my new ranges.

Over the next few days the parcel carrier delivered quite frequently, bringing me the samples promised from the mills in Belgium and Northern France. With that ammunition I was able to start making appointments with my customers, who were eager to see the new ranges. There was always a problem as furniture manufacturers wanted an exclusive range to launch at the Furniture Show which took place in January. I needed to get the greatest exposure of my ranges to ensure my income for the next year. Their needs and mine were not coincidental. Over the years I had developed a plan. For the show I agreed to exclusivity. After the show all ranges were open to all manufactures to put in their ranges. Therefore my best customer got the pick. That design came out of the offer and the second best customer got their pick and so on. I got some moans, but at the end of the day most of my customers understood this was the only way I could arrange this. Having made my appointments I was off on my travels. I would be calling in Long Eaton for two weeks so I would be working from home. After that I was off, first to Yorkshire, then South Wales and later down to London. Cate knew that I would be coming to London and told me firmly that I would be staying at her flat. Bookings apart she would be there with me. I looked forward to that.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jack

The new designs were going very well and by the time I had finished my travelling in South Wales I was assured that I would get at least ten designs in the show. There were many manufacturers of quality upholstery in the London area, but only a few that were worth my calling on. Although I hated taking my car to the metropolis I had little choice as the number and weight of my samples was too much to carry by hand. Cate had told me that I could use her parking space in the basement of her block and had alerted Paul giving him my car registration number. I was relieved when having arrived at the barrier it lifted. I let the car drift down the slope and was confronted by a huge man who waved me to the right and then left indicating where I should park. As I got out of the car this man mountain held the door. "Mr. Weston?" He enquired.

"Yes. And you will be Paul?"

"Indeed Sir. Miss Lacey told me that you will be in and out every day. If you would park in this space whenever you return your car will be safe."

"Thank you, Paul"

"No problem, Sir." He took a few steps and waited by the boot. "Do you need help with your suitcase?"

"That's alright. over the years of travelling I have got used to packing and with being economic with my clothes. So it's a relatively small case." I got my case out of the boot and he led me to the lift.

"You need floor five and it's apartment 'B'."

"Thanks, Paul." The lift stopped at the ground floor and Paul exited. Just as the doors were closing he put his hand over the leading edge and the doors stopped.

"Umm." He coughed. "Miss Lacey is a very nice lady, Sir. I would be unhappy if she was messed around."

I wondered what his definition of 'unhappy' was and how it would be demonstrated. "Paul, Miss Lacey is a very nice lady and I also would be unhappy if she was messed around."

The grim visage softened and morphed into something that could be viewed as a smile. "I am glad we see things the same way, Sir." He withdrew his hand and the doors closed.

I pressed the button for floor five, noting that it was also the top floor. The lift rose quietly and smoothly betokening good service. It was little trouble to find apartment 'B'. There were just two apartments on floor five. The door to 'B' stood open and Cate was standing at the door with a great smile on her face. I dropped my case and took her into my arms, our lips met and stayed that way for some time. Eventually our lips were back in our own possession but only after a few encores, shorter than the first but nonetheless enjoyable. "After that greeting I don't know if I should feed you, Jack or take you straight to bed." Cate was happily smiling, as she led me into her apartment.

"Can I help in making that decision?" I asked.

"No I think not. Anyway I know what you would say. I'll do the wife thing welcoming her husband home after a hard day's work letting him kick off his shoes, loosen his tie and I'll make him a cup of tea."

"Ah the bliss of married life."

Cate giggled. "Not the married life I experienced."

"Nor me."

"Perhaps we could do..." Cate closed her mouth abruptly, embarrassed.

"Better? "I suggested. "It's ok. That's where my thoughts were going."

Cate was surprised. "You're joking."

"No. I love you, Cate. I have believed that I was in love before, now I know what real love is, so why should it be a surprise that my thoughts were of marriage."

"Is this a proposal?"

"No. Just regard it as a statement of intent that I intend to propose someday soon."

"How soon?"

"Ah! That would be telling. It would not be a surprise if I answered that question. Anyway it all depends on your tea-making expertise."

Cate came up to me and wrapped her arms around my back. "You're a bugger, Jack. But you're my bugger and I love you." She lifted her head and kissed me. "Now I shall go and practice making tea for my very demanding man." She let me go and made her way to the kitchen. She had nearly left the room when she turned, smiling. "And I hope you are going to be very demanding later on."

I could hear the rattle of the kettle and cups being prepared. Cate peered around the door and told me to put my bag in the bedroom. "Have a look around. Our bedroom is the first door down the passage and the bathroom is ensuite." The apartment was quite large and from its design and the shape of the windows I concluded it was built sometime in the twenties or early thirties. I didn't have to snoop as all the doors were open and I noticed three bedrooms, two with an ensuite bathroom and another, smaller bathroom at the end of the hallway. I suspected that it was designed when a single man or woman would have a manservant or maid. Cates' bedroom was not how I imagined. Most men would imagine a women's bedroom to be shades of pink, pale blue or any of the dusty colours, frilly decorations with knick-knacks crowding the table tops and shelves. Not so Cate. Her bedroom was almost Spartan. White predominated, walls, bed coverings, dresser and cupboards, all white almost institutional, apart from the cushions scattered on the bed, their colours of strong vibrant colours of red, blue, black and turquoise positively alive set against the dead of the white. Cate came in behind me. "I know the decor doesn't have much imagination. I have been telling myself for years that I should get something done about it, but I seem to be away somewhere all the time and I'm only reminded when I get back." She opened a drawer in the chest. "I've cleared this drawer for you and there is space in the wardrobe to hang your suits. The bathroom is through that door there." She pointed to the door in the corner of the bedroom. "Get settled and the tea will be ready for you." She brushed past me as she was leaving.

I grabbed her and pulled her to me. "Come here lovely lady." I encircled her with my arms.

She looked up at me her eyes twinkling. "Now I explained about my lady."

"I know. and I am going re-acquaint with her. I just wanted to hug and kiss you for now."

"That's always acceptable." She raised her lips to mine for a kiss. "Are you going to undress me now or after you have your tea?"

"How about we bring the tea in here and we'll undress each other?"

Cates' eyes clouded with desire. "Now that is a very good idea."

As I had done at my home, Cate made certain that I should regard her apartment as my home as well. I came and went as I wished and made my calls, some positive and some not so positive. I was intending to return to Hulland on the Thursday until Cate informed me that she was rehearsing with the band on Friday. "Sometimes it's difficult to get all of us together, and to find somewhere we can rehearse. It's a last minute kind of thing but we can all get together on Friday and Steve has managed to get somewhere in Shepherds Bush. Would you like to come along?"

It was a superfluous question as far as I was concerned. Of course I would. The venue turned out to be a Salvation Army hall. Parking as usual for anywhere in London was a nightmare, but I found a spot in a side street demanding much reversing and going forward with lock to lock manoeuvring. The caretaker of the hall let us in. He was quite a character of approximately eighty years of age wearing the remnants of a pin-striped suite, the trousers held up by a broad leather belt and the waistcoat over a striped granddad collar shirt open at the neck. He explained that the wiring had 'gorn funny' but the electrician had been in and 'it's all Sir Garnet now.' I had heard the expression before and looked it up. It referred to Sir Garnet Wolseley a General in Queen Victoria's reign. He was renowned for his attention to detail which enabled his forces in many actions in India, Africa and the Crimea to overcome opposition quickly with a minimum of casualties. This led to the phrase 'All Sir Garnet' meaning everything was all right. I was surprised and amused that it was still used.

The band were setting up and Cate introduced me to many of them as and when they had a moment. Steve Brackley arrived and I was introduced.

"Right, the man who knows everything about Swing." He jested as he shook my hand.

"You reckon? You actually play it so I think it's you who should answer the questions."

"Whatever. From what Kat says you introduced her to Swing and her voice is perfect for it. So thank you. Kat says you have a lot of original recordings from the thirties and forties."

"A few."

"Could you give us copies? We try to get an authentic sound, but without hearing the originals it's difficult."

"I can do that. I'll put them on a CD for you."

"Fantastic!"

Once everyone was set up and tuned Kat became involved with Steve, leafing through reams of paper she had brought with her. Although they had decided on what they would play in Blackpool, they were rehearsing a couple of other numbers, just in case the BBC changed their mind. At first they played just a few bars as Steve and Kat tried out slightly different phrasing. Finally they were set, the girl on keyboards played a descending ripple and the Saxes and Trombones started with the melody. Kat didn't come in immediately but waited until the band had gone through the refrain. It was then that she came in with the opening line of the lyric.

Why do Robins sing in December

Long before the spring time is due

I was sitting on a chair at the back of the hall, as close to the centre as I could get, I was disturbed by the door creeping open. It was the caretaker and he was listening with a small smile on his face and tears running down his cheeks. When they finished the song, Kat and Steve went into a huddle with the lead saxophonist. I turned to the caretaker. "You enjoyed that?"

He nodded and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "Yes Guv. Took me right back, that did. My old Ma loved that song. She was always singing it as she was washing up at the scullery sink. I just got the picture in me mind. Gave me a bit of a turn, I can tell you. I didn't know anyone was playing that stuff now."

"Grab a chair. They will playing other titles, you'll probably remember them as well."

We sat companionably enjoying the music as it came. As this was rehearsal and not a performance the music would be halted often as Steve would ask for a different rendition of a passage trying for that elusive original sound. In between times my elderly companion would talk. It was his history in many ways evoked from the sound of his past. Something struck home, he had said that this music had helped morale when the world was in turmoil. "All those men away from their families and everything they loved dearly. Didn't matter if they were English, Scottish, Irish, French, American even the Krauts listened to this music. These sounds brought them together." He stopped for a moment and then went on. "You know many people hated the behaviour of the Yanks over here. Look at it differently though. They came over here from a place that had never been bombed, where the lights were always on, where you could get anything you wanted. They came here to blackout, rations and austerity. They saw the bomb sites and realized what War looked like. They came thinking that they would whop Hitler's arse in a few weeks and then go home to parades, medals and their grateful girls. Now they saw the reality that the fighting would be bloody and there was a good chance they would never go back to the U.S.A... They were young fit men, it was no wonder they tried to seduce anything in a skirt. After all, a man who reckons he's likely to die doesn't want to die without ever having a woman." Now that put a different slant on the bitterness of our troops whose women it was that the Yanks were seducing.

My old companion went on. "The Yanks were quite generous. For us kids it was because they had plenty of Candy to give away. I was ten in forty-five but some of the younger kids had never tasted chocolate. The Yanks couldn't believe it, but as I said they had never lived through wholesale bombing of a civilian population" He sat quietly for a while remembering a past that for most was history. Then he muttered quietly. "It was this music though, the greatest gift that America had ever given the world." I would remember those words.

I left early that afternoon in a futile attempt to avoid the traffic congestion that Friday afternoons inevitably creates on the M1 motorway. Cate had extracted a promise from me to return a week later for the weekend.