|
Return to Home Page |
|
NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE
|
|
12M P6 |
|
Coaldust to Stardust By Jackie Toaduff |
|
Sample: Throughout my long career I have had the pleasure of performing to, working with and befriending some of the biggest names in showbiz, politics, television, film stars and royalty, all from my humble beginnings as a miner working down the pit for twelve years. The autobiography bears witness to the full and interesting life I have enjoyed. It contains a fund of humorous anecdotes, as diverse as discovering that I was sitting on Veronica Lake's ashes - to being entertained in the sumptuous palace of the Sheikh of Bahrain, while I was wearing only swimming trunks. There are chapters on my friendship with Ruby Keeler, Ginger Rogers (who asked me to marry her) the American singer Margaret Whiting (who also proposed marriage), Margaret O'Brien, Margot Fonteyn and Jane Russell, with whom I worked in Australia. Tales of my encounters with Princess Margaret, Merle Oberon, Barbara Stanwyck, Marlene Dietrich, James Cagney, Dr. Christian Barnard, the Sultan of Salangor, Archbishop Makarios and a whole host of other movie stars, celebrities and dignitaries are also included.
Book Extract: The next year, in 1955, I received a very special request. Her Royal Highness Princess Margaret was to attend the Annual Ball at Cecil Sharp House, Regents Park, London, the headquarters of the English Folk Dance and Song Society and I was invited, not only as a guest but also to dance for the Princess. What an honour that was! I readily accepted and proudly travelled to London, having hastily acquired a dress suit, shirt and bow tie for the occasion. It was arranged that I should stay with an ex-local woman and friend of our family, Doris Lyons, who now lived in Cricklewood. When I arrived at the Ball, very excited to put it mildly, I was warmly greeted by the Kennedy family and some of the dancers who had been on the Denmark tour with me. Princess Margaret had not yet arrived. “Are you feeling nervous?” I was asked. “No, not a bit,” I replied, but underneath I was becoming more and more tense and had to keep telling myself, She’s just like everyone else. Quite suddenly, the band stopped, the ballroom doors opened and in walked Princess Margaret. She stood perfectly still while the band played God Save the Queen. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life. She had such a dazzling smile that it actually took my breath away, and she was so tiny, much more petite than I had imagined from her photographs. Her ball gown was in pink taffeta, apparently the first Royal version of the new ‘A-line’ fashion, and around her shoulders she wore a white ermine cape. In no time at all, I was told to get ready for my performance. Princess Margaret, Iris Peake, who was her Lady-in-Waiting, Dr. Ralph Vaughan-Williams and Douglas and Helen Kennedy were sitting on a dais no more than twenty feet away from me when I started my dance. To end my performance, I went into my very fast double-shuffle. Her Royal Highness spontaneously started to applaud and everyone present joined in to give me a standing ovation. As I took my bows, the Princess beckoned me over to speak to me. “I thoroughly enjoyed your performance,” she said, smiling. “You’re so fast it’s as though you have batteries in your shoes! What are they made of, by the way?” I was so nervous and breathless that, without more ado, I just lifted my foot up to let her examine my shoe, much to the amusement of the whole audience. Princess Margaret then gave me the most radiant smile and thanked me. “ Do you do any other kind of dancing?” she asked. “Oh yes, I love all dancing.” “Well, thank you very much,” she continued. “ Perhaps you will dance with me later.” “I would be honoured to, ma’am,” I replied and then I returned to the dressing-room, not believing for one moment that her last remark was to be taken seriously. While I was changing back into my dress-suit, everyone gathered round me asking, “What did she say to you?” From all accounts, it was a most unexpected thing for her to do, stopping a show in that way. I was still in my dressing-room talking, when an official appeared at the door and announced, “Princess Margaret is now ready to dance with you, Mr. Toaduff.” I couldn’t believe it “Are you kidding?” I asked. “No, sir, she’s waiting for you now.” I walked up to the Princess and proudly led her on to the dance floor. “I’m not sure what we re going to do, ma am,” I said quietly. “Didn’t you watch the demonstration?” she asked. “No,” I admitted,” I’m afraid I was chatting in the dressing-room”. “Well, it’s quite simple,” Her Royal Highness reassured me. “I think we’ll be all right - or perhaps you’d rather sit down.” “Oh no, ma’am, I’d love to dance,” I replied and dance we did. I was terrified that I might stand on her dainty feet but fortunately I didn’t and at the end of the dance, the Princess wanted us to dance again and this time we did it perfectly. When I led her back to her seat, I was asked if I would like to sit on the dais with the Royal party and I was ushered to a seat directly behind Her Royal Highness. One thing was quite certain - Doris Lyons didn’t believe me when I arrived at her house, very, very late. “Where the bloody hell have you been all this time, Jackie?” she greeted me. “I’ve been worried sick!” “I’m really sorry, Doris, but you see Princess Margaret stayed at the ball later than expected and I’ve been dancing with her.” “Oh, Jackie Toaduff, don’t bloody-well lie to me, you bugger. That’s not funny. Now go to bed and I’ll sort you out in the morning.” “But, Doris, I did dance with her,” I protested. “No, you bloody-well didn’t. Get off to bed with you!” The next morning, however, it was an apologetic Doris who knocked on my bedroom door and entered with an armful of newspapers. All the national daily papers carried a front-page story of the Princess and the Miner dancing. Most of these reports were accompanied by a beautiful photograph of Her Royal Highness in her stunning dress and some newspapers had published a picture of her dancing and smiling as though she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Doris was flustered. “Oh, pet, I m so sorry I didn’t believe a word you said last night. I honestly thought you’d made it all up. What a wonderful honour, Jackie! Anyway, what was she like?” “Oh, Doris, she was smashing, really smashing,” I enthused, and this was just what I had been quoted as saying in the newspapers. The next night I was invited on to the BBC Television’s ‘Guess My Story,’ a popular game show, where a celebrity panel had to guess the story of a few people who had been in the news that week. Eunice Grayson soon guessed my tale. The actress Hermione Gingold appeared as a special guest in the same show. She had made up a story that she would like to have seen in the press that week: The Bank of England gives away free five-pound notes. It was noticeable to me that everyone in the studio seemed to be making a tremendous fuss of her. “Would you like to sit down here, Miss Gingold?” asked one girl, indicating a nearby chair. “Yes, I want to sit down, but not there. I want to sit here,” (she pointed to me) “ next to this lovely young man.” Surprised, I turned to her. “Good evening, Miss Gingold,” I said and then came out with the first thought that entered my head: “Would you like a cigarette?” and offered her, quite inappropriately as it turned out, a Woodbine. She looked aghast. “A Woodbine? No, I think not,” she intoned in that well-known disdainful voice of hers.
|