Название: Tom Jones - The Life
Автор: Sean Smith
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары
isbn: 9780008104528
isbn:
Tom left school at fifteen, as did practically everyone in Treforest. You had to be at the grammar school in Pontypridd to stay on and take A levels. Tom had no qualifications, but one thing had already been established: he wouldn’t follow his father down the mines. Even before his brush with TB had ruled it out, his parents wanted a different life for their son. Margaret observed, ‘He was brought up that he wasn’t going down the mines. Uncle Tom would never have agreed to that.’
In any case, Tom belonged to the first generation of Welsh sons who weren’t expected to follow in their fathers’ dusty footsteps. Instead, he found his first job as an apprentice glove cutter at the Polyglove factory in the Broadway, the main road between Treforest and Pontypridd.
His friend Brian joined him there when he, too, left school. Brian recalled, ‘We just used to shift some gloves. That was about it and a machine would do the rest.’ It was hot, dull and repetitive, and all for thirty-eight shillings a week in old money. Tom admitted that he hated it – not least because the cutting room was men only. The female staff were in another part of the factory, dealing with sales, packaging and retail.
At least he was earning just enough money to indulge his interest in records, clothes and beer. Far more important than work was the emergence of rock ’n’ roll, with the release of the film Blackboard Jungle and the impact of the theme tune ‘Rock Around the Clock’ by Bill Haley and His Comets. The song, with its hugely catchy, danceable melody, played over both the opening and closing credits. The film transformed a minor hit into a sensation. ‘Rock Around the Clock’ was everywhere.
The song was released at the start of 1955 and made some waves in the UK before the movie came out in March. It re-entered the charts in November 1955 and marched all the way up to number one. Bill Haley was no Elvis though. He was already thirty, on the chubby side and just as likely to be performing an old country and western song as anything cutting edge. His music was much more influential than the man himself.
Tom first heard the song blaring from the radio that was constantly playing at the factory to keep the workforce entertained as they faced the daily grind: ‘All of a sudden this “Rock Around the Clock” came on and I thought, “This is jumping out of the radio”.’ His workmates were less impressed and failed to understand what he found so exciting about it. An exasperated Tom told them to ‘just bloody listen to it’.
At least Tom’s enthusiasm for the new music gave him a head start when it came to the two Christmas parties he attended during his time at the factory. All the staff had the opportunity to mix together, but the men tended to stand around drinking, while the girls wanted to dance. Tom had a big advantage, ‘I was the only one who could jive. I was like a kid in a candy store.’
Tom’s ability on the dance floor had been finely tuned by Linda when they went out dancing on the weekend. She had left school a few months after her boyfriend, and she found a job in Pontypridd, working as an assistant in a draper’s shop, where one of her tasks was looking after the window display.
By this time, Tom had embraced the new Teddy boy culture that was sweeping the country and Linda was happy to wear the uniform of the girlfriend. Becoming a Teddy boy was part of growing up for many young men who left school at fifteen and wanted to announce to the world that they had arrived. This was nothing like the gang culture of today, although it helped if you could handle yourself in a fight.
Teddy boys weren’t a natural product of rock ’n’ roll. The famous attire had been around for several years, ever since fashion leaders in Savile Row, London, had tried to reintroduce the Edwardian style to affluent upper- and middle-class young men after the end of the Second World War.
Gradually the uniform filtered down to working-class youths. They were known as working-class Edwardians until the Daily Express printed a story in September 1953 with a headline shortening Edwardian to Teddy and the term ‘Teddy boy’ passed into mainstream usage. The fashion lost its appeal to the middle classes when that happened, so the famous suits could be picked up for bargain prices on second-hand market stalls.
Tom was a Treforest Ted. He wore all the gear: gaudy waistcoats, cowboy hats, bootlace ties, black suede crepe-soled shoes, known as brothel creepers, and, his pride and joy, a sky-blue suit, consisting of a long jacket with a velvet collar and narrow trousers. Local journalist Colin Macfarlane memorably described Tom in the 1950s: ‘He could be seen walking along the streets with his Teddy boy coat and trousers that were reckoned to be as narrow as the thinnest drainpipe in the village.’
Tom always fancied himself in his Teddy boy finery. The proprietor of Linda’s drapery shop wasn’t so impressed when this dandified vision came to call during working hours. Tom may have thought he was the height of fashion but, to others, Teddy boy was synonymous with young hooligan. Linda had to make sure he stayed out of sight at the back of the shop during working hours.
Linda, who was always smartly turned out, had a figure that looked good in anything, especially the pencil skirts that were fashionable in the mid-fifties. She also had a DA haircut, which was a polite shortening of the coarser ‘Duck’s Arse’, so called because it resembled the rear end of a duck. In the US, where it originated, the style was known as a ‘Duck’s Tail’ or a ‘Tony Curtis’, after the heart-throb actor who popularised it. The cut was short at the back and long and curled over in a quiff at the front. The general idea was to pile as much of your hair onto the top of your head as you could, using slabs of hair gel to hold it in place. Tom had one as well, lovingly teased and shaped by Linda.
The young women were more impressed with his efforts than the men. One of the lads recalls Tom’s image: ‘He looked like a dipstick. Always did when he was younger – a greasy-haired gypsy.’
Brian Blackler, whose Teddy-boy suit was silver, remembers: ‘We would go down to Cardiff and see the boys down there with their hair like Tony Curtis and we would come home and copy them. We all looked the same then.’
After the working week was over, Saturday was dance night. The Teds would meet up in a pub for a few bevvies to start off the evening. Tom and Dai, who was a year younger but didn’t look it because of his size, would generally be served, because they seemed older than they were. The girls, meanwhile, would usually congregate at someone’s house before making their way to that night’s chosen venue. ‘We girls never touched alcohol,’ confirms Vimy. They would make do with crisps and lemonade and wait for the boys to arrive. The Ranch in Pontypridd, St Luke’s Church in Porth and the Catholic hall on the Broadway were popular for a night of jiving – at least until 10.30, when they had to play the national anthem and finish for the night.
Boys and girls would put on their best clothes on a Sunday afternoon and meet up in the centre of Ponty for what was known locally as the Monkey Parade – a weekly ritual in which the young men were like peacocks trying to attract the best-looking female. They would pair off for an innocent stroll through town. If Tom were delayed for any reason on the Saturday or Sunday, none of the local lads would chat up Linda, because she was strictly off-limits. She was Tommy’s girl.
4
Another rainy day in the autumn of 1956 changed Tom’s life for ever. As usual, he and Linda were sheltering in the phone box at the end of Laura Street, when she plucked up the courage to give him some news. Tearfully, she told him they were expecting a baby in the spring. Tom was now sixteen and she was fifteen.
They hadn’t bothered with contraception. There was no family-planning clinic in Treforest СКАЧАТЬ