The Little Angel

by Rosie Goodwin

  Mabel glanced towards the door. ‘Well, all right then … but only when we’re on our own. Miss Ruby wouldn’t like it if she heard me being over-familiar.’

  The two girls set off with a basket and a list of things Cook needed, and when they reached the local market in Fulham, the sights and smells reminded Kitty of the market back in Nuneaton and she pattered happily after Mabel, eyeing the goods on the various stalls. The first part of the market consisted of stalls selling food: fruit and vegetables, fish, meat and one selling freshly baked bread and cakes. Mabel went from one to another efficiently purchasing and ticking off the list of things Cook had asked her to get, and then the girls went on to the second part of the market where the stalls stocked everything from brooms and buckets to ribbons and bows. Kitty was relieved to leave the food market behind. The sight of hungry-looking children scavenging beneath the stalls for bruised fruit or anything edible they could find was very disturbing. She herself had never known what it was to go hungry, and she could only imagine how hard life must be for the poor little waifs.

  ‘Would you just look at that colour,’ Mabel said dreamily as she fingered a length of sea-blue ribbon. ‘Wouldn’t you feel grand with that in your hair.’

  ‘Why don’t you treat yourself to it?’ Kitty suggested.

  Mabel snorted. ‘I can’t be wasting money on fripperies. My wages go straight to my mum when I get paid. At least that way I know my brothers and sisters will eat, unless our dad finds the money first, that is, then it just goes straight over the bar of the Skinners Arms.’

  Like Arthur Patridge, it seemed that Mabel too, came from a family where a drinking man ruled the roost.

  Kitty felt sorry for her, and when Mabel moved on to the second-hand clothes stall to have a poke about, she quickly purchased the length of ribbon for her and popped it in her pocket. She knew that she was attracting more than a few curious glances. The other shoppers were clearly working-class people but in the fine skirt and blouse which Ruby had bought for her, Kitty felt as if she stuck out like a sore thumb. Quickly moving on, she caught up with Mabel and with their purchases complete, they set off for home, taking it in turns to carry the basket. On the way, Kitty gave Mabel the little gift she had bought for her, and the girl was so touched that there were tears in her eyes as she said, ‘Oh, miss, you shouldn’t have done that, but I’m glad you did and I’ll keep it for special occasions. Thank you.’

  When they arrived home, Mabel entered the house by the back door as was expected of the staff while Kitty entered through the front to find Ruby in the hall fussing over an enormous basket of flowers that had just been delivered.

  ‘They’re from dear Hector,’ Ruby informed her gleefully. ‘Do you remember him? You met him in my dressing room after my performance at the Prince of Wales. He’s such a sweet man! And he’s taking me out to dinner again this evening. You won’t mind dining alone, will you, darling? Foxy will keep you company.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Kitty answered her just as a knock sounded on the door. The housemaid answered it to admit Max and Richard Fitzherbert – and the second she set eyes on the photographer Kitty felt hot colour flood into her cheeks.

  ‘Ah, I’m glad we’ve caught you both in.’ Max slung his hat onto the hall chair as if he owned the place. ‘I’ve brought Richard along to show you the photographs. They are really outstanding. I’m sure you’re going to be pleased with them.’ His eyes settled on the basket of flowers then and he grinned. ‘New admirer, Ruby? Good for you. Now shall we go and look at these pictures?’

  Without waiting for an answer, he strode towards the day room, and incensed that he hadn’t appeared to be the least bit jealous about her new beau, Ruby followed with a face like a dark raincloud.

  Once inside, Richard took the photographs from a large envelope and proudly spread them out on a table that stood in the window. Kitty stared at them, hardly able to believe that they were of her. The one of her leaning slightly forward showed an awful lot of cleavage to her mind and was quite risqué, although no one else seemed to be anything but thrilled with them.

  ‘Oh, definitely that one.’ Ruby poked a plump finger at the one Kitty had been eyeing uncertainly.

  ‘I agree,’ Max said. ‘That one will be perfect to put up outside the club. I shall take it to the printers this very afternoon and have it blown up into a poster advertising Miss Kitty Nightingale’s debut performance. It’ll have the clients flocking in. But now we really should do something about getting her a lady’s maid.’

  Kitty felt as if she wasn’t even present in the room, the way they were discussing her. But then she supposed they all knew what they were doing so she remained silent and let them get on with it. And then for the first time she began to feel nervous as she thought of her opening night. What if she made a total mess of it? What if she forgot the words to the songs she was to sing … She suddenly realised they hadn’t even been decided on yet! And what about rehearsals? Far more than a lady’s maid, she needed a new teacher – for rehearsals and for expanding her repertoire.

  And then her former teacher Miss Lark’s words came back to her. ‘Breathe in and out, relax and sing as if you are completely alone.’ Yes, that’s what I’ll do, Kitty told herself. I won’t even look at anyone in the audience, I’ll just focus on something above their heads. But the big night was getting ever closer now and she couldn’t prevent the butterflies in her stomach fluttering to life every time she thought about it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‘Here, you’ll never believe what I’ve just heard,’ Ben told Sunday as he burst into the hallway at Treetops the next morning. ‘I bumped into one of the Daweses’ maids out in the lane on my way back from town and apparently, Mr Dawes had a massive heart attack last night. They reckon it’s touch and go whether he’ll survive. And that’s not all – it was brought about when he and Maggie had a terrible row. She’s run away from home!’

  ‘No!’ Sunday was shocked. Despite all her best efforts, they had seen little of Maggie since she had left them to live with Stella and Victor all those years ago, but she was still fond of her. ‘I always thought it was Mrs Dawes who was unnecessarily strict with her,’ she muttered, speaking her thoughts aloud.

  Tom came out of his office then and Ben immediately repeated what he had heard.

  ‘Oh dear.’ Tom scratched his chin. ‘Do they have no idea where she might have gone?’

  ‘None whatsoever, according to the maid,’ Ben said. ‘Maggie just took off late last night without packing a thing, so she won’t get far surely?’

  ‘Do you think she might come here?’ Sunday asked but Tom shook his head.

  ‘I shouldn’t think so. I think she’d already have arrived if she was going to do that.’

  ‘Then what should we do?’

  Tom could see that his wife was distressed, more about Maggie’s disappearance than Mr Dawes’s heart attack. ‘I don’t see that there’s anything we can do without looking as if we’re interfering. And no doubt she’ll return when she’s calmed down and hears what’s happened to her father.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’ But Sunday was far from satisfied. Now she would have Maggie to worry about as well as Kitty!

  An awkward silence settled between them then and Ben turned to leave and make his way round to the stables. Things had got no better between him and Sunday, and although she was always polite to him, the young man felt that she was holding him at arm’s length. Perhaps it would be better if I were to clear off an’ all, he thought. At least then Sunday and Tom might stand a chance of regaining their old closeness without him being there as a constant reminder of Tom’s brief affair. It was something to think about.

  ‘Now eat lightly,’ Ruby advised Kitty on the night of her debut. ‘It doesn’t do to try and sing on a full stomach. Max and I will take you out for supper when it’s all over if everything goes well.’

  Kitty couldn’t have eaten much even had she wanted to because her stomach was in knots. M
iss Fox watching her so closely didn’t improve her nerves either.

  ‘You know you don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to, dear,’ she said, earning a glare from Ruby.

  ‘Why of course she does, Foxy. Do you have any idea at all how much time and money Max has put into setting this evening up? He’d be devastated if she backed out now.’

  ‘It’s quite all right – I have no intention of backing out,’ Kitty told them both and Ruby seemed to relax a little as she loaded her plate with crispy roast pork and vegetables.

  Kitty was glad when the meal was over and scurried away to her room to steal a few quiet minutes before Max arrived to drive them to the club.

  He arrived promptly at seven o’clock and chucked her under the chin. ‘All ready are you, my dear? I’m sure you’re going to knock them dead!’

  Kitty managed a weak smile as she and Ruby followed him outside. Max skilfully manoeuvred the car through the London streets, and as they entered Soho, Kitty frowned. It didn’t appear to be too nice an area but then the club would probably be all right. Groups of heavily made-up women were standing on street corners and they all smiled at Max as he drove past them, much to Ruby’s disgust. Eventually he pulled up in front of a small club. The poster he’d had made was pinned up on a noticeboard outside beneath a sheet of glass, and above the doors was a sign which was drunkenly leaning to one side with THE PALM BEACH CLUB written upon it, but the place to Kitty’s dismay looked rather run down. She followed Max and Ruby inside, clutching the huge bag with her new gown inside and found that the interior didn’t look any better than the outside. The glass in the windows was grimy and the wallpaper was peeling in places.

  The manager met them and after introducing himself as Mr Ricardo he led them into a large room with tables dotted around a small stage and a bar along one wall. Dusty palm trees in huge pots, all looking in desperate need of a drink, were dotted here and there, and Kitty supposed this was where the club had got its name from. A band was tuning up at the side of the stage and the musicians welcomed her, making her feel a little easier. Max had already told them what songs she would be singing, and in what key, so there should be no problem there; Kitty would have liked to do a rehearsal with them, but there was no time for that now. The club would be opening shortly, but she wouldn’t be appearing until later in the evening.

  ‘Are you quite sure she’s ready for this? She looks awfully young.’ Mr Ricardo wore a worried expression on his face as he eyed Kitty dubiously up and down.

  ‘I haven’t got to be one of the best theatrical agents in the business by chance,’ Max told him coldly and the manager shrugged. What would be, would be. If the girl did turn out to be a flop at least he wouldn’t have to book her again. Clicking his fingers, he instructed a young waitress, ‘Show Miss Nightingale to her dressing room.’

  ‘Yes, sir, right away.’ The girl smiled at Kitty in a friendly fashion and Kitty began to weave her way in and out of the tables as she followed her to a door in the back room.

  ‘I shall join you shortly to help you get changed,’ Ruby shouted after her and Kitty nodded. After passing through the door she found herself in a long corridor with other doors leading off it. There were also steps leading up to the stage behind the curtains that were presently drawn across it.

  ‘Your first time here, is it?’ the girl asked conversationally as Kitty kept close to her heels, dodging the other performers who were milling about.

  ‘It’s my first time anywhere,’ Kitty admitted with a rueful grin. ‘And I have to admit I’m a bag of nerves.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ the girl told her. ‘By the time you come on, the clientèle we get in here will probably be so drunk they won’t even listen to you. Half the time they just carry on talking through the acts.’

  It wasn’t exactly what Kitty had wanted to hear but she was determined to make the best of it for Max. He had gone to so much trouble that she was terrified of letting him down now – and Ruby, for that matter.

  The girl stopped in front of a door with paint peeling from it. Kitty’s name was written on a piece of paper that had been tacked to it and the girl told her, ‘This is your room then, such as it is. Good luck, dearie. I’ll perhaps see you later.’ With that she was gone and Kitty pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  She found herself in a tiny box-like room that smelled of smoke, greasepaint, stale sweat and cheap perfume. A dressing table with a cracked mirror and a small stool in front of it stood against one wall, and a selection of paint and powder was set out on it, along with an overflowing ashtray. There was a screen in one corner for getting changed behind and a chair – but she saw at a glance that the only place where she could hang her precious gown was on a nail that had been hammered into the wall. With a sigh, she supposed it would have to do.

  Once the dress was hung up she straightened her back and began to practise her scales as Miss Lark had taught her. Max had decided to go for tried and trusted numbers that were popular with the public. As the minutes passed Kitty began to grow ever more nervous. She had no idea what the time was as there wasn’t a clock in the room, but at last the door opened and Ruby appeared.

  ‘Right, let’s get you changed. It’s almost time for you to go on and there’s a full house tonight,’ she told her cheerily.

  By then Kitty just wanted to get it over with so she stood still as Ruby helped her into her dress and fastened it. She then slid her feet into the pretty satin slippers and pulled her gloves on before sitting down at the dressing table for Ruby to brush her hair. They had decided to leave it loose as Ruby thought it made her look innocent. They had also discussed whether or not she should wear any jewellery but again Ruby had insisted that the simplicity of her gown was what made it so stunning.

  ‘There then,’ Ruby said with satisfaction after she had brushed Kitty’s hair until it gleamed in the dim lights. ‘You go out there and break a leg, my girl!’

  When Kitty looked horrified she giggled. ‘Don’t worry, I don’t mean it literally. It’s just a showbusiness expression that’s used meaning “go out there and make them sit up!”’

  ‘That’s a relief then.’ Kitty managed a faltering smile as Ruby made for the door. This was all so new to her. ‘What do I do now?’

  ‘Just sit there and when it’s time for you to go on, someone will come and take you into the wings. It should only be a few minutes now. There’s a comedian on at the moment. He’s awful and the audience are giving him a terrible time so you’re going to have to work hard to get their attention back, but I’m sure you can do it. Good luck.’

  Kitty gulped as she stared at herself in the mirror, wishing she was safely back at Treetops, or anywhere rather than here. But there was no going back now. All she could do was her best and hope that it was good enough. When the tap came to the door she almost jumped out of her skin as a voice called, ‘Miss Nightingale. Into the wings, please. You’re due on in five minutes.’

  Kitty took a deep breath then followed the stagehand out into the corridor and up onto the side of the stage.

  The poor comedian was indeed having a hard time of it. The audience were booing and as he made a hasty exit and hurried past her she felt sorry for him. But then the compère was announcing, ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, what you’ve all been waiting for, the star of the show, Miss Kitty Nightingale.’

  He turned towards her, and forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, Kitty walked onto the stage. The conductor of the band was watching her and when she gave him an imperceptible nod the band began to play. Focusing on the wall beyond the top of the audience’s heads she hesitantly began to sing but she could barely hear herself above the noise as people laughed and chatted. There was a fug of cigar smoke hanging like mist about the audience but as she gradually relaxed, her voice grew stronger as she sang ‘You Are My Honey … Honeysuckle’, one of the tried and trusted songs Max had chosen for her. She was almost halfway through when she became aware that the pla
ce was growing quieter, and as she dared to glance at the audience she noted that she was beginning to get their attention – which spurred her on to try even harder.

  When the song ended, there was a short burst of clapping before she started to sing the next number, ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart’. It was a song that Sunday used to sing around the house, and Kitty’s voice rang out clear and true with emotion as she thought of her loved ones back at Treetops. By the time she was halfway through, everyone in the room was watching and listening, and you could have heard a pin drop. And then suddenly it was over and there was enthusiastic applause as people got to their feet, clapping wildly. Feeling overwhelmed, Kitty sought in the crowd for Ruby and Max. They, too, were on their feet and she was shocked to see that Richard was there too, as well the newspaper reporter that Max had told her about.

  ‘Bravo! Bravo!’ The crowd called out as she curtsied prettily and left the stage. The manager was waiting for her in the wings and he grabbed her hand and shook it up and down.

  ‘Well done, Miss Nightingale,’ he congratulated her with a beaming smile. ‘I’ve never known the audience to be so quiet or so enthusiastic apart from when Marie Lloyd once performed here. I think I should like to book you to appear here again.’

  ‘Hold on, old chap.’ Max had come to join them by then. ‘Not so fast. I have an idea Miss Nightingale is going to be in demand after this evening. Even if she does come back I think the fee will have to be negotiated. But now if you will excuse us, I’m sure our little star must be ready for a drink.’

  With that he bustled Kitty back to her dressing room where they all squeezed in. Max produced a bottle of champagne and after sending for glasses they all drank a toast to her successful debut.

  ‘Well done, Kitty,’ Ruby praised her and Kitty flushed with pleasure. It was the first time that her mother had ever appeared to be proud of her, and it momentarily filled her with joy and hope for the future. The young reporter that Max had invited along was clearly smitten with her and scribbled furiously on a small pad as he asked her questions. She giggled as she sipped the champagne and answered them as best she could.