Disclaimer: Foyle's War was created by Anthony Horowitz, and the characters of Foyle and Samantha jointly created by Mr. Horowitz, Mr. Michael Kitchen and Ms. Honeysuckle Weeks. No infringement is intended.

A/N: The dialogue gets a little tricky in this scene, as there are two conversations going on at the same time. But it is done for comic effect, so good luck!
Thanks to 'dancesabove' for her suggestions to improve the dialogue spoken by Fred Astaire.

FW 1944: Let's Face the Music


Chapter 3

After the introductions the two couples fell into quite separate conversations. However, despite her dazzlement with Mr. Astaire and his kind attention to her, Sam found she was distracted and intrigued by Mr. Foyle's sustained discussion with his sister, and couldn't stop herself from listening in.

"...wife was a great admirer. Ever since we attended your musical play at the Shaftesbury Theatre in 1923..."

"Say, Miss Stewart, have you ever performed on stage?"
(What on earth was she saying to Mr. Foyle?!)

"'Stop Flirting!'"

"Miss Stewart?"
"...Performed? Oh - only in the choir or a school Christmas pageant, Sir."
"Well that's grand. What part did you play? The Virgin Mary?"

"Yes, that was it!" Mr. Foyle agreed happily.

"Part? I'm afraid not, Sir. I was usually the front end of a donkey."
"Oh. Well, that's...just fine. We all had to start somewhere. Y'know, in vaudeville I once performed dressed as a lobster! By the way, no need to 'Sir' me, Miss Stewart." His smile was friendly, but he was growing amused and rather curious at the young woman's obvious distraction.

"Why, that was our debut in London! Seems like a lifetime ago..." Adele put her hand on Mr. Foyle's forearm and left it there. "How kind of you to remember."
"Well, it was very memorable." He put his hand over hers, moved by the recollection.

(He's twinkling his eyes at her!)
"Call me Fred, Miss Stewart, most everybody does." He ran a hand suavely over his remaining hair, but still didn't seem to have the girl's full attention.

"Thirty minutes, Mr. Astaire." A businesslike voice called from across the stage.

"...Was, em, our first journey away from home when our son was quite small, and my wife was anxious about leaving him. Your performance was so engaging, it...allowed her to thoroughly enjoy the evening."
"Oh! ...That's very touching. Thank-you, Mr. Foyle." She blinked back a little moisture in her eyes.
"Truly was...one of the happiest evenings of our life. We'd often recall it."
"I'm so glad. One never knows how one's work might affect a member of the audience."
"Well, in fact, Rosalind - my wife - went straight out and bought the recording of, em, 'Oh Gee, Oh Gosh...?'"

"Miss Stewart...?" ('Why was she so fascinated by their conversation?')
(Look at his smile! What are they talking of?!)

"'...Oh Golly, I Love You'! How very kind. Our first record! And the other side was..."
"'The Whichness of the Whatness.' We, em, would attempt to sing it together… Rosalind did your part quite well, but, er...I could never keep up!"

(Was he laughing with her?! Mr. Foyle?! Laughing?! It's as if they're old friends.)
"Well, um, if you'll excuse me..., Miss Stewart...?"
Fred gave up, glancing at his sister and Mr. Foyle, then back at Miss Stewart. With a wry smile, a shrug, and a little shake of his head, he walked away from the lovely girl.

"Oh, don't feel bad - even after hundreds of performances we really had to concentrate on those nonsensical lyrics!"
"You did it perfectly, Lady Cavendish."
"Thank-you. ...But," she patted his arm, "I prefer Adele now. Just as in '23."
"Yes…" He lowered his head in respect, "Read about your recent, em… Please allow me to offer my condolences, Miss...em..."
"Adele. Please. You may. Thank-you, um...?"
"C-Christopher." He offered readily, quite under her spell.
"Christopher..." She smiled, studying his face with evident attraction.

Samantha stood a little distance away, nearly gaping, amazed at their rather quick intimacy and the effect her Mr. Foyle was having on the lady.

"Twenty minutes, Mr. Astaire! Miss Astaire!"

"Oh dear! Duty calls. Wish me luck, Christopher." She said a little breathlessly, and stretched up to land a kiss on his cheek, "...I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty. And we've only had a few days to rehearse together!"
"We're very appreciative, ...Adele! Um, 'break a leg.'" And he waggled his eyebrows.
She laughed merrily, "That's right!"
A little reluctantly she parted from him, then trotted away, calling over her shoulder, "Thanks! Enjoy the show...!"

Adele bounced up the steps, and joined her brother already on the stage.

Sam looked about, surprised to find herself alone. She sidled closer to Mr. Foyle, but his attention was entirely on the two mature dancers rehearsing, moving lightly together across the floor. At a pause in their routine, he sighed, and pressed his lips into a melancholy smile.

###

While they'd been chatting with the performers, the audience of nearly two thousand enthusiastic servicemen had arrived, and the hangar had filled up and become raucously noisy. Foyle and Sam came through the side curtain and took their chairs near the front and to the left side of the benches, amongst other civilian guests. They spotted the five members of the Manning family a few rows ahead and nodded and smiled to them.

But Sam was curious about her boss's interest in the sister of the Hollywood star. She studied his innocent profile until he was compelled, with a heavenward glance, to turn and ask over the loud chatter,
"Yes, Sam?"
"I never said a word, Sir."
"Um-hmm?" He narrowed his eyes at her.
"Well, ...had you met Miss Astaire before, Sir?"
"Nope. Not 'met.' Saw her on stage in London. Many years ago."
"...With Mrs. Foyle?"
"Yyes." He gave her a brief smile, then turned away, glancing over the crowd. She strained to hear him add, "Was a...present for her twenty-first birthday."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. She tried to picture Mr. Foyle as a young man with a wife younger than herself - a happier man, with expectations of a long, happy marriage. She continued watching him thoughtfully, until the lady beside her tapped her on the shoulder. Sam turned to see a man in the aisle attempting to get her attention.

The efficient-looking crew member with a clipboard spoke to her deferentially,
"Miss Stewart? Would you mind coming with me, please? Mr. Astaire would like a word."
She and Foyle both looked surprised, as did the people in the seats around them.
"With me? Well, ...yes, of course."
Sam flashed a look of curiosity at Foyle. She stood and set her cap on her head, shuffled sideways out of the row and followed the man as he walked quickly towards the backstage area. On the other side of the curtain again, he told her,
"We got a little problem, Miss. One of the performers, Miss Dickson, has hurt her ankle."
"Dorothy Dickson?! Oh dear! Does she need first aid? I am trained."
"She's being taken care of, but, ...I'll let Mr. Astaire explain..."
And there was Fred again, looking her over with a rather appraising regard. Sam stood to attention, wide-eyed,
"Yes, Sir. How can I help?"
To Sam's confusion, the man with the clipboard asked, "Shall I get wardrobe, Fred?"
"No, no, the uniform will do just fine. Come with me, Miss Stewart. Now, as a patriotic young woman, I'm sure you'd do anything for our brave fighting men, isn't that right...?"
"Well, of course, Mr. Astaire. ...Within reason."
"Swell. I'll tell you what I have in mind..."

###

Checking his wristwatch, Foyle grew increasingly concerned that Sam might miss the start of the show. But he trusted that Mr. Astaire had a legitimate reason to ask for her, and that she was in safe hands. Noise from the benches increased as everyone anticipated the curtain opening. Sounds of instruments tuning up in earnest came from backstage, then suddenly there was a great musical crescendo signalling an overture.

While the guests in the chairs went attentively quiet, there was a startling, deafening eruption of applause, cheers and whistles from the benches, the like of which Foyle had never heard.

'Americans weren't shy to voice their appreciation,' he observed to himself, and followed the lead of the other English guests around him by putting his hands over his ears. A wise precaution because a moment later, when a man in uniform strode across the stage towards the microphone, the cheering grew even louder. The man raised his hands for quiet, but as the crowd readied themselves to listen, he grinned, swept his arms down then up again, fingers waggling to invoke more applause. The multitude of servicemen obliged boisterously and it was another few minutes before they settled down at last.

The MC, a tall, slender, bespectacled, fair-haired man, stood at the microphone and introduced himself as Sgt. Mel Powell,
"Well boys, we know you've been working real hard over here, and we're going to do our best to give you a little entertainment this evening. Hope to take your minds off things and help you relax for a few hours. There are a bunch of us here that've come over from back home, and now that you've got the Krauts on the run…"

Here he was interrupted by universal cheers.

"...We want to show our appreciation in person for everything you're doing to defeat fascism and hatred, and restore freedom to the good people of Europe. We'll be following you into France and beyond, setting up our little circus tents and putting on shows as often as we can, wherever you fellas are camped." After further applause, Sgt. Powell went on, "We've got a pretty good line up for you…"

He announced some of the performers they would see, which sparked more cheers and whistles as each was named.
"Right now, I'd like to introduce the fellas that've been squeaking and tootling backstage -." At his wave the curtain opened to reveal an orderly arrangement of uniformed musicians on risers, and a piano at stage left. "We're the 'advance guard' of the American Band of the AEF, including the fellas that make up the Uptown Hall Swing Sextet."

After the thunderous applause faded, he explained,
"Now, you may want to know that Major Glenn Miller - yes, that's right, he's just got a promotion! - Glenn and the other fellas in the band are performing a little farther north tonight. Along with Bing Crosby and others, they're doing shows for some of the boys in the hospitals. But I think you'll agree that we'll make out just fine here on our own."

Without further ado, he introduced their first number, Miller's phenomenal hit of 1940, Tuxedo Junction. After wild applause, they launched into the next number without pausing to introduce it, Pennsylvania 6-5000, and next came G. I. Jive. As the players extended the finishing notes, Sgt. Powell trotted over from the piano to the microphone stand and welcomed on stage seven gentleman also wearing U. S. Army Air Forces uniforms of serge wool shirt, tie and trousers - the singing group known as The Crew Chiefs.

"We hope you'll enjoy this new tune just written by Glenn Miller and our own Artie Malvin." One of the singers gave a bow and a salute. "...A little ditty called, I'm Headin' For California. Stepping away from his percussion duties and singing lead is Ray McKinley."

While Foyle appreciated the music, and was glad to see the throng of dedicated, hardworking servicemen enjoying the show, he couldn't entirely focus on the performers, too preoccupied with wondering what was keeping Sam. It really seemed unfair that she should miss such a rare and wonderful evening of entertainment. He had made up his mind to go in search of her on the next break in the programme, and was about to stand and apologise for having to disturb his neighbours in the row, when the MC began to introduce Mr. Astaire. Foyle reasoned that, since it was he that had asked for Sam, Astaire's appearance might provide the answer to why she hadn't returned.

tbc...


Historical Notes:
According to the research I did for creating this 'Fantasy USO Show,' all the performers mentioned in this and in the next chapters did perform in USO Shows in the UK and on the Continent, and could have potentially appeared at such an airbase in England. The Glenn Miller Band, or more properly, the American Band of the Allied Expeditionary Force, arrived in Bedford, UK in July 1944, and toured bases and recorded programs and concerts for broadcast, before they were scheduled to travel to France in December. Many of the singers mentioned sang with the band.

Adele Astaire's husband, Lord Charles Cavendish, had only just died in March, at age 38, of acute alcoholism. Sources say his death was a relief to her.