Sixties all-leather or seventies white flared-trousers?
Trace used to help him with things like that. Always
supportive. Washed and ironed his stage clothes. Even let him have that extra
wardrobe to keep them in. Went with him on a road trip from Vegas to Gracelands
and they were always the winning couple in local jive contests.
Funny though, what her sister had said, about how deep down Trace
had always preferred Orbison to Elvis. Never told him mind. Made you think what
else she didn’t say.
Things had changed a lot since she left. In the old days
they’d have to turn people away at the door on an ‘Elvis Night’ and he could
make a steady living touring the clubs. But now, Ted, the landlord, had to ring
round and chivvy the old gang to come. And when he performed, he looked out
over an audience of pensioners. Young at heart, yes; but sadly, a generation on
the way out.
As this was to be his last gig he’d finish with Are You Lonesome Tonight. Dedicate it to Trace. ‘It was always her
favourite,’ he’d tell them.
© David Bingham, 2017
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