I have completed the third novel in the Malcolm Craig series and have published the book as a paperback and as an Epub E-book. Read more at: Fiona's Store - fiction with a musical theme.
Jan 13, 2016
Here is a review of the book by Pearl Harris, writer, translator, editor and proofreader:
A random sample from the book:
Kate – April 1962
After
I finished my secretarial course I was working in the cables department of a
city bank in Simmonds Street. I was taking lessons in piano and singing and
preparing for various exams so I had to get up at the crack of dawn to practise
my scales in singing and piano before I went to work. I was exhausted by the
end of the day! Liz was on her April school holiday but I was working a five
and a half day week in the bank with no sign of any holiday in view. My father
had promised that if I did well in the exams he might allow me to leave the
bank and study singing and piano full time until I completed my diplomas in
both subjects so I was determined to do well no matter how exhausted I was.
Becoming a professional musician was far more appealing to me than spending the
rest of my life typing out letters and cables in the bank, and working overtime
when the Rhodesian Sweep cables arrived and had to be decoded so that the bank
could notify all the lucky winners that they had won a lot of money in the
sweep.
One
day Liz phoned during my lunch hour. She was very excited.
“Malcolm
needs a small studio audience for his Edwardian programme tomorrow night and he’s just phoned to ask if I’d like to
go. I suppose he’s been in touch with you too, Kate?” she asked.
My
heart sank for he hadn’t asked me. I felt a stab of pure jealousy that my
friend had been asked to go to the recording and Malcolm hadn’t bothered to ask
me.
“No,
he hasn’t phoned me,” I replied, barely able to speak for my mouth had dried up
completely. “Perhaps he’s not planning on asking me at all.”
Liz
was silent for a moment. She had probably assumed that Malcolm would invite me
and she must have known that I was feeling very hurt not to have been invited.
“Well,
it’s still not too late. Maybe he’ll phone you once you get home,” she said
brightly, and then found an excuse to ring off quickly rather than commiserate
with me any further. I continued eating the sandwiches my mother had made for
my lunch, although I could hardly swallow them because there was a persistent
lump in my throat. I did my best to keep a brave face and not let the tears
that were welling up in my eyes run down my cheeks.
Malcolm
Marina
and I were having a snack lunch in the studio. Eunice always managed to think
of something interesting to put in our lunch boxes. As far as I was concerned
the lunch break was the best part of our day in the studio. I really was not
cut out to teach other people how to sing. I had managed to get out of most of
the morning’s lessons by spending time in the office telephoning friends to
invite them to the recording the following evening.
“I
think I’ve contacted enough people for the recording tomorrow,” I said to
Marina.”We don’t want too many in that small studio otherwise the applause will
sound like Wembley Stadium at the cup final instead of a few genteel guests in
a refined Edwardian drawing room. I had to laugh at Liz. She was so terribly
excited about it. She could hardly contain herself!”
“Did
you manage to get through to Kate?” asked Marina. “I know it’s sometimes
difficult to get through to her at the bank when it’s busy.”
“Kate?
I didn’t think of phoning her at all. I stopped phoning when I reached the
right number.”
“But
you know she and Liz are such great friends now. She’ll be terribly disappointed
if you don’t ask her and she finds out that Liz is going. I wouldn’t be
surprised if Liz didn’t phone her right away to tell her the exciting news. You
know how they both adore you!”
I
hadn’t even thought about whether Kate would be disappointed, but I realised
that Marina was quite right. Kate would be very hurt indeed if I didn’t invite
her to the recording. Despite her reserve, I didn’t need Marina to tell me that
she thought a lot of me. She was probably as fond of me as I was of her. Why on
earth hadn’t she been the first person I phoned instead of leaving her out
altogether?
I
looked up her number in the studio diary and made the call. I don’t think I
have ever heard anyone happier to hear my voice in years.
“Will
it be you and your parents, Kate, or do you want to bring your boyfriend with
you too?”
I
hoped she didn’t have a boyfriend, but if she did, I’d have to put a good face
on it and receive the spotty youth with good grace.
“I
haven’t got a boyfriend,” she replied in a small voice. For some reason I was
very pleased to hear this. “It’ll just be me and my parents. Thank you so much
for asking us, Mr Craig.”
There
was a pause and she added, “I thought you had forgotten me.”
“Never,
darling,” I lied bluffly. “Marina and I will meet you in the foyer of Broadcast
House at half past seven. You won’t be late, will you?”
“No
- we’ll be sure to be there on time,” Kate assured me solemnly.
Kate
We were usually pretty
casually dressed when we went to rehearsals for the choir. Sometimes Liz was
still wearing her blue school uniform if she hadn’t had time to change after
some activity at school in the afternoon. We had never seen any of the other
broadcasters formally dressed when they arrived at Broadcast House to record
their programmes or read the news, although we had heard that BBC news readers
had worn evening dress to read the news in the nineteen-thirties – and possibly
beyond.
I was glad that Liz and I had dressed smartly for this particular trip to Broadcast House. When we arrived in the brightly lit foyer, there was Malcolm Craig clad in evening dress with a flower in his lapel, while Marina Dunbar wore a low-cut red evening dress, with a mink stole around her shoulders. Their great friend, widower Steve Baxter, a well-known broadcaster on Springbok radio, was obviously going to attend the recording too for he was also formally clad for the occasion although his usual attire for his own broadcasts was a sports jacket and open-necked shirt.
Although she was not taking
part in the broadcast Marina was playing hostess to the people Malcolm had
assembled for the recording. She ushered us all into the small studio where the
recording was to take place and urged everyone to take their seats.
“Keep a seat for me in the
front row, won’t you darlings,” she said to Liz and me.
Our parents sat together
further back while Liz and I took our seats in the front row on either side of
the coveted seat we were saving for Marina, or Miss Dunbar as I still called
her. We were beside ourselves with excitement. Malcolm seated himself at a
small table to the right of us, ready to begin the recording when he received
the nod from the controllers who were seated in the enclosed glass booth at the
back of the studio. He took a sip from the glass in front of him and glanced around
at the audience.
Liz’s father asked in
joking tones, “What’s that you’re drinking, Malcolm?”
“Water,” he replied dryly!
There was no further
repartee between them after that exchange. Malcolm told us to clap politely
after the items and talk in undertones to each other to create the atmosphere
of a refined Edwardian drawing room. Although most of the audience applauded
after the violinist and soprano had finished performing, it was only Marina who
chatted to us brightly about the performers, and Liz and I did our best to
respond with the necessary degree of ladylike decorum. For some reason everyone
else seemed overwhelmed by the occasion and uttered not a word.
Malcolm got up from his
chair in the corner and walked over to a spot directly in front of us to sing
two ballads. Of course I had heard some of his recordings on the radio and I
had heard his voice in the studio when he was showing me or one of the other
pupils how to sing something properly. I had even heard him singing the Messiah when I was 13, but to experience
him singing right in front of me was something I would never forget. Oh, Dry Those Tears and Parted – both sad Edwardian ballads,
which he sang in his beautiful voice with all the feeling he could muster. I
was completely mesmerised! I almost forgot that I had to chat politely with
Marina and Liz after he stopped singing.
At the end of the recording
everyone surged around him, congratulating him on his performance. Liz and I
were the last in a long line of his admirers.
Malcolm asked us jokingly,
“Well, was I all right?”
“All right? You were
brilliant, Malcolm!” said Liz with all the confidence of youth.
“I’m glad you approve,”
smiled Malcolm. “Perhaps you’ll come to some of the other recordings if you
enjoyed this one.”
We nodded eagerly. I
certainly couldn’t wait for the next time!
As we left the studio, I
caught sight of Marina chatting to Steve Baxter while Malcolm was having a
serious discussion with the accompanist. I thought I should say goodbye to her
before we left, but I had the impression that she was not pleased that I had
interrupted her intimate conversation with Steve Baxter.
“I’m so glad I was able to
attend the recording,” I said. “Mr Craig was wonderful.”
“Yes, darling. We’re both very proud of him, aren’t we?” she
replied in mocking tones, patting me on my arm. My face grew hot with
embarrassment. and I suddenly felt deflated and childish. I realised then that
I would be well advised not to offer such fulsome praise in future! Marina and
Steve must have thought me very young and gauche.
After that magical evening
it was difficult to settle down to sleep and it was a particularly dull thud
that I had to force myself awake early in the morning to be in time to catch my
regular bus with the other workers on their way to spend all day in shops and
offices in the city.
Several
months later, I did my music exams in piano and singing. Liz and an Afrikaans
girl called Sonette du Preez, another pupil of Malcolm and Marina’s did their
exams at the same time and Marina accompanied us all. Liz and I were suitably
impressed by Sonette’s beautiful soprano voice when we heard her singing
through the door of the the exam room. We decided that she had a much better
voice than either of us and would probably do brilliantly in the exam
On Friday I went up to the
studio apprehensively, wondering whether the exam results might have arrived.
Malcolm answered the door and said heartily:
“I believe you sang very
well on Tuesday, my gel!”
I looked at him intensely
and said, “No, I was absolutely awful.”
“How do you think you did?”
“I’ve probably failed,” I
replied with conviction.
He gave a little chuckle
and marched back into the studio, leaving me to wait in the kitchen till
Sonette finished her lesson. He called me in excitedly and handed me my card. I
had obtained honours for Grade 8. I always expected the worst so I was always
surprised if I did well. When I heard that Sonette with her brilliant voice had
only managed 72 per cent for Grade 5, a mere pass, I felt disproportionately
pleased, while congratulating her. Liz had passed Grade 6 with 72 per cent
also. Marina and Malcolm seemed
delighted with my results, and for most of that lesson, we drank tea and made
firm plans for my diploma. Marina was wearing a black derby style hat and
looked particularly striking in it. We all got on so well together that day.
I got honours for the piano
exam too. My father was suitably impressed and agreed that I could stop working
in the bank soon and study music on a full time basis.
KATE KYLE
A theatrical garden party
was organised for early October at the old Rand Show Grounds at Milner Park
near the University of the Witwatersrand. Marina asked whether Liz, Sonette,
and I would like to help out at it. Naturally, we all jumped at the chance
although we weren’t quite sure what we were meant to do once we got there. I
wore a new dress for the occasion with a large white hat, decorated with a
rose. Even I, who always disparaged my own looks, thought I looked quite
glamorous and actressy.
Liz had recently passed her driving licence and was enjoying having the
freedom to drive her mother’s tiny Fiat to school each day. Liz, who was also
looking very glamorous for the occasion, fetched me in this little car which
was bubble-shaped and opened from the front. We had a rather precarious drive,
precariously near to the tarmac, to the show grounds.
We met Sonette at the entrance and I took some comfort that at least on
this occasion I looked better than she did. Although Malcolm was no longer
making such a great pet of her I could not help but harbour jealous feelings
towards her. I consoled myself with the fact that Malcolm would not be able to
bill and coo over her that afternoon with Marina present. Marina and Malcolm
were late so we decided to walk round the grounds and look at the various
stalls which were manned by various local well-known theatrical personalities
who were intent on doing their bit for charity. It was a hot afternoon so we
had a cool drink in the tea room where we heard the Maori bass, Inia te Wiata,
who had come out to sing in Show Boat,
say to his companion, “I want to meet my old friend, Malcolm Craig. Has he not
arrived yet?”
MALCOLM CRAIG
Since Marina’s recent
affair with Steve we were more estranged from one another than ever before although
she had decided that staying married to me was the lesser of two evils. Marina
was certainly taking her time getting ready for the garden party. We had
promised to meet the girls at 3 o’clock and it was nearly that time already.Her
bedroom door was firmly closed and as I really hate being late for appointments
I knocked tentatively.
“Are you nearly ready, Marina?” I called through the
door. “We’re going to be late and we’re supposed to meet the girls at 3
o’clock. They’ll be getting worried.”
“Am I so repulsive to you that you can’t even come into
my bedroom any more without knocking as though we are complete strangers?” she
replied in a strained voice.
I opened the door. She was wearing nothing but flimsy
underwear showing off her still perfect figure which had given me so much
pleasure in years gone by. Her face was red and blotchy from crying.
“What on earth is the matter?” I asked, alarmed. “Are you
ill?”
She stifled a sob and said, “I am so damned unhappy. I
don’t want to go to this stupid garden party and I don’t want to go on living
in this miserable country. I want to go home.”
“I’m sorry, darling, but it’s too late to cancel now. The
girls will be expecting us.”
“To hell with them. That’s all you think about these days – all those
young girls in the studio, particularly Kate, your personal little spaniel. If
I had known how things would turn out with her I wouldn’t have agreed to have
her anywhere near you. “
“What nonsense. Kate and I get on very well together and
she has the making of an excellent accompanist. There’s nothing more to our
relationship than that. I’m very fond of her and I certainly wouldn’t be able
to manage without her now,” I lied.
“I wonder! I’ve put up with all your nonsense for most of
our married life yet the minute I put a foot out of step you treat me like dirt.
But I know how you operate. I can’t believe your relationship with Kate is as
white as the driven snow.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but it certainly is. I don’t
know why you’re so upset, but please hurry up and get ready. We’re late as it
is.”
As I waited impatiently for Marina to get ready, it occurred to me that
I was indeed terribly fond of Kate although it had never crossed my mind to
make love to her. She was just an innocent teenager and didn’t even have a
boyfriend. But now Marina had made that suggestion I began thinking about her.
Although she was reserved and had never put herself forward to me as so many
other girls and women had done before her, I was well aware that she thought
the world of me. As I idled away the time waiting for Marina, I began to
imagine what it might be like to make love to Kate, to lie between her full
firm breasts and be the first man to kiss her on her beautiful mouth and awaken
her from innocence to sexual delight.
Marina emerged from her bedroom fifteen minutes later, beautifully
groomed as usual, but a little pale and very subdued. I still couldn’t figure
out what had brought on her extremely bad mood and her wild accusations.
Perhaps she was missing Steve, particularly now that he was engaged to Helen
and would be married in a few weeks time. Steve had probably told Helen all
about his affair with Marina, so she would make sure that Marina did not get
her hands on him again.
By the time we got into the car we were both in a bad
mood and we were still squabbling and bickering as we walked down the path to
where we had agreed to meet the girls. It seemed I couldn’t do a thing right
that particular afternoon! But when I
saw how lovely Kate looked on that sunny day, my mood lifted at once and I was
overwhelmed by her beauty. Liz and Sonette, pretty though they were, paled into
insignificance in comparison. I forgot about Marina and her complaints as I put
my arm around Kate’s waist, and said, “You three girls looks quite gorgeous.” At
last I knew that it was Kate who was really special to me. I wished I could
carry her off and make love to her right away and I wondered what had taken me
so long to realise what I really felt for her.
It was all too much for Marina. She stormed off by herself and I had no
choice but to follow after her reluctantly leaving the girls behind watching us
as we disappeared into the bosom of the other celebrities who were about to
have a strawberry and cream tea together. It certainly would not have done if
the sweethearts of song were seen to be at odds with one another among all our
theatrical friends!
Fiona Compton
©
26 August 2015.
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