Lonely Street -- A Tobias Snape/Eileen Prince Drabble
I find it rather sad that most fanfics of Severus Snape's parents almost always present his father as a drunken, physically abusive brute.
And yet truth be told, J. K. Rowling does NOT tell us that in the books. Granted, she tells us precious little regarding Tobias Snape and Eileen Prince/Snape. What we are shown is a little boy's memory of just one fight his parents had, where his father is yelling at his mother. Severus seems to be very young in this memory, probably what we would describe as "pre-school" age.
So we have no idea what the argument was about. We don't know if perhaps Tobias may have been justified in his anger. We don't know if he and Eileen made mad, passionate love later that night, the old kiss-and-make-up deal.
Severus tells Lily that his father doesn't like anything very much, but again that is a little boy's assessment, we don't have any objective facts as to Tobias' real state of mind.
We have no evidence for Tobias having a drinking problem. We have no evidence that Eileen DIDN'T have a drinking problem.
Canon narrative suggests that both Tobias and Eileen were neglectful parents, but again that is only based on how Harry subjectively perceiveed Snape in The Prince's Tale...what the objective truth may have been, is up to conjecture.
So in this short story I present my take on Tobias Snape and Eileen Prince, where neither is "evil", only flawed...
January, 1959
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
I'm looking for that lonely street
I've got a sad, sad tale to tell
I need a place to go and weep
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
A place where there's just loneliness
Where dim lights bring forgetfulness
Where broken dreams and mem'ries meet
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
The Saturday night dance hall had never quite been Tobias Snape’s scene. He much preferred his usual corner in The White Hart with his mates, quaffing a pint or two or twelve, challenging all comers to a game of darts.
He’d been going to The White Hart for years with his mates, but as time progressed, more and more of them stopped coming, as his mates’ sweethearts eventually became their wives. Occasionally an old mate would stop by with his wife, but it just wasn’t the same.
Not only did he miss the old camaraderie, it reminded Toby that he was getting older. And that he was all alone.
His father had died during the war, and he as the only surviving child had the task of taking care of his increasingly infirm mother. She had been totally dependent on him, and she had been his emotional fortress.
And when she died almost three years ago, Toby’s world had fallen apart.
He went to work. He joined his mates at the pub every Saturday, and occasionally on a weeknight. But he went home to four empty walls and no one to care for, or to care for him.
And so it was that when bachelor mates Jack Callum and Baxter Durriken suggested that they try the Bavarian Ballroom that coming Saturday, Toby agreed.
Although now that he was here he regretted it. There was nothing very Bavarian about the ballroom, it looked more like a school auditorium with tinsel curtains covering the walls, and not very good beer.
Those who had come as couples, or in a party, had taken what few tables were available. All the singles stood around the perimeter of the dance floor, men on one side, women on another. There didn’t seem to be any official rule, it was just the way things worked out.
Toby and his mates had screwed up their courage shortly after arriving and had asked various of the single women to dance. Toby quickly figured out that the posh girls not only turned him down immediately, but did so with a sneer.
The more working-class girls were more amenable. In fact he recognized a few from the mill where he worked.
So he had had a few dances with these girls, but nothing more. They politely thanked him at the end of the dance and went back to their side of the wall.
Toby didn’t really care to dance anyway. He liked listening to music, but most of the music played at the dance hall was rather bland. He wished they would play some jazz, especially Ella Fitzgerald. But he guessed that that wasn’t considered “dance music”.
So here he was, standing in a dimly lit auditorium nursing a warm beer as Andy Williams sang.
Perhaps upon that lonely street
There's someone such as I
Who came to bury broken dreams
And watch an old love die
If I could find that lonely street
Where dim lights bring forgetfulness
Where broken dreams and mem'ries meet
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
As the dance floor cleared, he saw her, almost diagonally opposite from where he stood.
She wasn’t pretty in the usual sense, but something made her stand out. In some ways she reminded him of his mother. Not so much physically, although she had black hair just like his mother had. But it was definitely something in her eyes.
Which were looking at him, and seemed to register something like recognition.
He did not waste any time crossing the dance floor to get to her.
He introduced himself. He learned her name was Eileen. She agreed to have him buy her a new drink. They retired to the ballroom’s bar area, agreeing that neither was much of a dancer.
He learned she worked in an apothecary shop and had no family. And that she had the most wonderful laugh. And that almost everything he said she found witty or profound.
They left the ballroom, Toby not bothering to say goodbye to his mates, and made their way to an all-night diner, where they had coffee and shared an ice cream sundae.
Toby wondered if Eileen might not have been living in a convent, since she seemed to know so little about modern life. But she laughed heartily when he asked and told him no, she hadn’t, but didn’t offer any more information. Which didn’t disturb Toby, because she was so curious and interested in everything that he was interested in.
He explained about Ella Fitzgerald and John Coltrane, the difference between classic and modern jazz, and his developing interest in the new music coming over from America called “rock’n’roll”.
It was still relatively early; he suggested that if she was really interested, he had a collection of jazz and rock’n’roll records back at his place that she might like hearing. It was a bold move, and most women would have found it insulting and perhaps even slapped him for suggesting such a thing.
Eileen nodded. “Okay,” she said, “as long as I don’t stay too late.”
His council house in Spinner’s End had never been “ritzy”, in the slang of the day. But Eileen was obviously impressed that he had his own house; she only had a room above the apothecary shop.
When he was sure that she was comfortably seated on the couch, he retrieved some record albums from a shelf, and turned on his player. Not only did it play the new, 33 and 1/3rd rpm LPs, but it could also play the old 78 rpm records, and 45 rpm single plays. And it was a stereo, he announced proudly.
Eileen successfully hid that she had no idea what he was talking about. But she was intrigued how the box created music, and impressed with how good the sound quality was.
As his latest Miles Davis acquisition played, he retired to the kitchen and put a kettle of water on the cooker to boil for tea. He did have beer in the refrigerator, but he did not want to push the bounds of propriety.
He quickly rinsed his mother’s finest china, put the tea things on his mother’s finest tray, and brought it out to Eileen, who was sitting listening to the music, entranced.
“You can’t dance to this type of music,” she announced as he placed the tray on the low table in front of the couch. She said it as almost an approval.
“Yer supposed t’ feel music like that,” Toby explained. Eileen just nodded, staring off in the distance. Toby noticed her head was nodding slightly in beat with the music.
They said nothing, just drank their tea and listened to the album.
“That was nice,” Eileen stated when the album ended. But Toby knew that she meant much more than that, but was unable to articulate it.
For a change of pace, Toby next put on an album by Ella Fitzgerald. He’d meant to start with Side One, but for some reason mistakenly started with Side Two. Eileen at first showed amazement at the sound of the singer’s voice, but then as it got further into the song, a strange look came over her face.
That old black magic has me in its spell
That old black magic that you weave so well
Icy fingers up and down my spine
The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine
The same old tingle that I feel inside
When that elevator starts its ride
Down and down I go
Round and round I go
Like a leaf that's caught in the tide
I should stay away but what can I do
I hear your name, and I'm aflame
Aflame with such a burning desire
That only your kiss can put out the fire
You are the lover that I've waited for
The mate that fate had me created for
And every time your lips meet mine
Baby down and down I go,
All around I go
In a spin, loving the spin that I'm in
Under that old black magic called love
Toby watched her carefully as the song ended, but Eileen may as well have been a marble statue at that moment. The next song started.
I look at you and suddenly,
Something in your eyes I see
Soon begins bewitching me.
It's that old devil moon
That you stole from the skies
It's that old devil moon
In your eyes.
You and you glance
Make this romance
Too hot to handle.
Stars in the night
Blazing their light
Can't hold a candle
To your razzle-dazzle.
You've got me flyin' high and wide
On a magic carpet ride
Full of butterflies inside.
Wanna cry, wanna croon,
Wanna laugh like a loon.
It's that old devil moon
In your eyes.
Eileen startled him by suddenly turning and glaring at him.
“You know?” she demanded. Toby didn’t try to hide his confusion.
“Know what, ‘leen?” Now Eileen looked confused.
“Why did you play these songs?”
“No reason, ‘leen,” Toby stammered. “I put that side on by mistake, it’s Side Two, Side One has the better songs if you’d like to hear ‘em…”
He stood up and started toward the record player.
“No!” Eileen exclaimed, bringing Toby up short. “No,” she continued more quietly, “it is alright. I just wondered about those songs.”
She sipped her tea as Ella Fitzgerald began singing Lover Come Back To Me. Toby picked up the needle and turned the record over before the next song came on…he was afraid that Eileen might be offended by that song, too.
Much to Toby’s relief, Eileen not only took no offense to Thanks For The Memory and It Might As Well Be Spring, but actually enjoyed hearing them, and was actually tapping her foot to the last song on Side One, Taking A Chance On Love.
Toby then switched the player to 78 rpm, and introduced Eileen to Wynomie Harris’ Good Rockin’ Tonight, and Wild Bill Moore’s We’re Gonna Rock, We’re Gonna Roll.
Since Eileen almost seemed to want to dance, Toby next took out some prized 45 rpm records, examples of the new music called rock’n’roll he’d alluded to earlier in the evening, and which he indicated to Eileen were rather difficult to acquire in Great Britain.
Arkie Shibley and His Mountain Dew Boys’ Hot Rod Race, was followed by Ike Turner’s Rocket 88, Bill Haley and the Saddlemen’s Rock The Joint, Bo Diddley’s self-titled Bo Diddley, and Elvis Presley’s That’s All Right, Mama.
Toby was pleased to see that by this time Eileen had stood up and was perusing his collection of 45s, tapping her foot and moving her hips to the music. He was fascinated with her hips. There were 45s he’d like to play for her, but their lyrics were somewhat suggestive. Better to wait until they knew each other better, he thought to himself. He didn’t want to rush this. He didn’t want to scare her off.
“Play this!” Eileen demanded, holding a 45 out at arm’s length.
Toby took it and was surprised when he read the label. Considering Eileen’s earlier reaction to Ella Fitzgerald, he wondered why she wanted to hear Screamin’ Jay Hawkins sing I Put A Spell On You.
But he put it on the player, and Eileen not only swayed hypnotically to the song, she started dancing with Toby.
Too soon the song ended. Toby considered putting one of the more suggestive songs on, but no, he restrained himself. He did not want to ruin this.
“It’s getting late,” Eileen stated, as if reading his mind. He nodded, got their coats, and walked her home.
She agreed to meet him the next afternoon, for a movie and a bite to eat, and then later to go back to Toby’s place to listen to a weekly jazz broadcast on his radio.
There was a bounce in his step as he walked home on what were no longer lonely streets.
April, 1959
Every night I hope and pray
A dream lover will come my way
A girl to hold in my arms
And know the magic of her charms
'cause I want (yeah-yeah yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone
Well, she wasn’t a dream, Toby thought, glancing back at himself in the hotel’s mirror as he combed his hair and sang along with Bobby Darren.
Dream lover, where are you
With a love, oh, so true?
And a hand that I can hold,
To feel you near as I grow old?
Eileen smiled as she dressed. She found Toby’s off-key singing endearing.
They’d been dating for over four months now. He had taught her about jazz, rock’n’roll, and nonmagikal society. She had taught him a few things about herbal concoctions and types of brewing, and had been there to comfort him at the beginning of February when, as Toby lamented, “the music died”, and had given him a jumper she’d knitted herself for his birthday in March.
She in turn had surprised him at how good she was at bowling, and he had surprised her by showing a deeper, philosophical nature that he kept hidden from most people.
Within a week of their meeting and starting to date, Toby had started playing his collection of records that contained rather more suggestive lyrics, but Eileen was particularly fond of one that didn’t have any lyrics at all, a recording by Johnny London called Drivin’ Slow that was a moody, slow saxophone instrumental. It was particularly nice to dance to.
They not only enjoyed each other’s company, they were comfortable with each other. That is why he asked her to come away on this long weekend holiday, to a nice but inexpensive hotel by the sea. He knew he was moving quickly, but he didn’t want to lose her. He was pleasantly surprised when she agreed.
He was surprised to learn that she had never seen the sea before, had never been to a beach. He enjoyed watching her react like a little girl to the waves, and her excitement at collecting seashells.
They strolled hand-in-hand on the boardwalk, eating sweets. He treated her to a nice supper in one of the better restaurants that he’d saved up for, just to be able to treat her properly.
And they made tentative, furtive love back at the hotel.
She was a virgin. Toby had known that she was a good girl, but he wondered if she could tell that he was a virgin, too.
The next day they had breakfast in their room, and made love again afterwards. That afternoon they brought a picnic lunch to the beach, and made furtive love afterwards, hidden by some dunes and tall grass from prying eyes.
He again treated her to supper at an elegant restaurant, but they spent more time with mooning gazes at each other than in eating.
That night their lovemaking was prolonged and passionate.
And now it was time to go back home. Toby wondered if he should ask Eileen to marry him, but for some reason she had not given any indication that she wanted him to.
He came out of the bathroom still singing, and put his arms around her waist.
'cause I want (yeah-yeah yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone
He swung her around.
“Whaddya say, ‘leen?” he laughed, squeezing her waist. “Whaddya say?”
But Eileen just laughed and said nothing, eventually pushing away from Toby, but not before running her fingers through his hair.
“We’ll have to hurry if we want to catch the train on time,” she stated, picking up her jacket and purse. Toby would not be denied. He grabbed her around the waist again.
“D’ya love me, Eileen?” he demanded. “D’ya love me?”
The look on Eileen’s face reminded Toby of his mother.
“Yes, Toby,” she finally answered. “I love you.”
“I love ya too, ‘leen!” he exclaimed, hugging her so tightly she thought she’d stop breathing. “I’ll always love ya!”
“Stop playing around, Toby, we’ll miss our train!”
“All right,” Toby answered somewhat petulantly. He’d almost added “Mum” to the sentence, but caught himself.
But it was a pleasant enough ride on the train back, Toby grinning and leaning his head on Eileen’s shoulder most of the way back. He tried to talk her into coming to his place once they were home, but Eileen begged off, explaining that she was exhausted and fighting a headache, and that she needed to get up early the next day to work in the shop.
Toby was disappointed, and doubt started eating at the back of his brain.
But Eileen kissed him passionately and promised to meet him later in the week for supper before she went her own way, leaving Toby to walk the lonely streets home by himself.
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
I'm looking for that lonely street
I've got a sad, sad tale to tell
I need a place to go and weep
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
A place where there's just loneliness
Where dim lights bring forgetfulness
Where broken dreams and mem'ries meet
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
Perhaps upon that lonely street
There's someone such as I
Who came to bury broken dreams
And watch an old love di-ie
If I could find that lonely street
Where dim lights bring forgetfulness
Where broken dreams and mem'ries meet
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
Where's this place called "Lonely Street?"
Lonely Street
Andy Williams
1959
==========================================================================
Every night I hope and pray
A dream lover will come my way
A girl to hold in my arms
And know the magic of her charms
'cause I want (yeah-yeah yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone
Dream lover, where are you
With a love, oh, so true?
And a hand that I can hold,
To feel you near as I grow old?
'cause I want (yeah-yeah yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone
Someday, I don't know how,
I hope she'll hear my plea
Some way, I don't know how,
She'll bring her love to me
Dream lover, until then,
I'll go to sleep and dream again
That's the only thing to do,
‘til all my lover's dreams come true
'cause I want (yeah-yeah yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone
Dream lover, until then,
I'll go to sleep and dream again
That's the only thing to do,
‘til all my lover's dreams come true
'cause I want (yeah-yeah yeah)
A girl (yeah-yeah yeah)
To call (yeah-yeah yeah)
My own (yeah-yeah)
I want a dream lover
So I don't have to dream alone
Please don't make me dream alone
I beg you don't make me dream alone
FADE
No, I don't wanna dream
Dream Lover
Bobby Darren
1959