The Mersey Daughter: A heartwarming Saga full of tears and triumph. Annie Groves
beamed as she accepted her sandwich. ‘Yes please, Rita,’ she said. ‘I would like to help you. Michael and Megan are my best friends, so I’ll help you. I don’t forget anything, ever.’
‘Oh, this is nice!’ Nancy flung herself back on the elaborate counterpane of the big double bed and looked at the ornate ceiling. ‘They must think a lot of you, putting you up in here. Oh, I could get used to this. Who’d have thought it? If some of those old bags from Empire Street could see you here they’d have a fit. Serve ’em right and all.’
Gloria grinned. ‘Believe me, not every hotel’s like this. I’ve stayed in some right fleapits since starting the tour.’ She sat down on the velvet stool which stood in front of the mirrored dressing table. It was in the exact shade of the gorgeously thick curtains, which toned with the counterpane – it was all the height of luxury. ‘But no, I grant you, this is all right.’
‘Just think, all those nights we were downstairs when you were singing, and we didn’t know what the bedrooms were like.’ Nancy stretched her arms above her head. ‘This is the comfiest bed I’ve ever been on.’
Gloria raised her eyebrows. ‘Does that mean you’ve been trying out a few since we last met? Nancy, you dark horse.’
Nancy gasped, then realised her friend was teasing. ‘No, of course not. Don’t be like that, Glor. You know I’m not like some girls we could mention.’
‘Just as well, I suppose.’ Gloria gazed at the wallpaper above the mirror. ‘Apart from being on tour, I haven’t tried out any either.’
Nancy rolled on to her side and propped her head on her hand to regard her friend. Gloria had always attracted men without any effort – her looks alone guaranteed she would be the centre of attention wherever she went, with her natural platinum-blonde hair and stunning face, but added to that she had the gift of a powerful voice that she used to tug on the heartstrings of anyone listening. In her more honest moments, Nancy admitted she was deeply jealous of her friend, but it had also been useful to stick by her side as she then could bask in the reflected glory and also meet a fair few men herself. But times had changed.
‘Your impresario fellow making you work all hours, is he?’ she asked. ‘You want to stand up for yourself, make sure you get a bit of time off. All work and no play and all that.’
‘What do you think this is?’ Gloria said, smiling to take the edge off her reply. ‘I’m not performing this evening. He knows I can’t sing every night, or and move hotels as well. I’ll get too tired, and then my voice gets tired and we can’t risk that. No, he’s good, I’ve been very lucky. He knows what he’s doing. I trust him. No, not like that,’ she added, reading the inquisitive expression on Nancy’s face. ‘I tell you, I’m concentrating on my career now.’
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