The Little Angel

by Rosie Goodwin

  Kitty’s hand flew to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears but they had no impact on Richard whatsoever.

  ‘You can begin this evening by being nice to Mr Travers,’ he rasped callously. ‘Myself and the other gentlemen here will leave you both in peace. But now why don’t you have a sip of that excellent champagne I poured you? It will relax you, just wait and see.’

  ‘You – you put something in my drinks!’ Light dawned. That was the reason why she had been so ill on previous occasions. The wine, the tea – they had been drugged so that she was helpless, giving him the opportunity to take these obscene photographs!

  On Richard’s handsome features a grin appeared, a cold, hard grin that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Perhaps just a little something to make you feel more in the mood,’ he leered. And then he was gathering the pictures together as she looked on numbly. Should any of these become public she would never be able to hold her head up again and she knew that she would die of shame.

  ‘And now, my dear, I believe our Mr Travers is becoming rather impatient so the other gentlemen and I will take our leave of you for now.’ In actual fact, they would be watching from a secret panel, and the two men with Richard had paid heavily for this opportunity.

  He held the glass out to her again and this time she took it and drank the contents back in one go. Had he offered it, Kitty would have taken poison to dull the loathsome shame of what she was about to endure.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  ‘Why, Kitty, whatever is the matter?’ Maggie asked as she eyed the girl’s swollen eyes the next morning.

  ‘Nothing! I’ve just got a bit of a headache,’ Kitty said as she tugged her robe more tightly about her. Maggie had brought her breakfast up, expecting her to be still in bed, but Kitty had clearly been up for some time. In fact, the bed looked as if it hadn’t even been slept in.

  ‘What time did you get in?’ Maggie asked then. ‘I tried to stay awake till one o’clock this morning but I must have dozed off.’

  Kitty shrugged. ‘What does it matter? I’m still perfectly capable of getting myself undressed.’ She knew that she was being churlish and that Maggie didn’t deserve it, but how could she tell her that she had just spent most of the night in the bathtub trying to scrub away the feel of Edward Travers’s hands all over her. It had been a pointless exercise. She still felt dirty; would always feel dirty now. Fresh tears pricked at her eyes and she turned her head away from Maggie. Maggie must never know what she had allowed the man to do. No one could ever know, otherwise she would never be able to hold her head up again.

  Maggie’s straight white teeth picked at her lower lip before she said, ‘Perhaps I could get you some tablets for your headache.’

  Kitty shook her head. ‘No, I’ll be all right. I’d just like to rest on my own for a while if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Very well.’ Maggie stared at her worriedly. This wasn’t like Kitty at all. ‘Give me a shout if you need anything and I’ll pop up later to see if you’re feeling well enough to come down for lunch. Meantime, try and eat some of that toast. You need to keep your strength up.’

  Kitty suddenly thought that she sounded like Sunday, who had used to say that to her back at Treetops. You must keep your strength up, you’re a growing girl! It all seemed so long ago now and finally Kitty realised what she had lost. Sunday and Tom had loved her – really loved her – and treated her as their own. She had turned her back on the people who had brought her up without a second thought, sure that she would find what she had always dreamed of with her birth mother. But the woman had never shown her an ounce of love or affection from the day she had stepped through the door. And now it was too late to rewind the clock.

  Just the thought of the photographs that were in Richard’s possession made Kitty break out in a cold sweat. Were they ever to become public she would be ruined and no decent man would ever look at her again. She was no better than a common whore, and it was all thanks to Richard Fitzherbert. He was cruel and treacherous. Even so she still loved him and had a feeling that she always would, no matter how low he made her sink. He was like a drug to her and she couldn’t bear the thought of being without him.

  When Maggie left, Kitty sat at the window for a long time, staring sightlessly down at Arthur at work in the garden. A knock on the door aroused her, and Maggie poked her head around it, saying tightly, ‘It’s Mr Fitzherbert – for you. I’ve put him in the parlour. Do you want me to help you get dressed before you go down?’

  ‘Err, no, I’ll be fine like this. Thank you, Maggie.’

  Maggie left and Kitty stared in dismay at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wild and her eyes were red and puffy, but then what did it matter? Richard had probably come to tell her that he didn’t wish to see her again so she might just as well go down and get it over with.

  She met Miss Fox on the landing, and the older woman stared at her disapprovingly. ‘You’re surely not going to receive a gentleman caller dressed like that, are you? It’s not proper, and what’s more, you look as if you’ve been pulled through a hedge backwards.’

  ‘I shall only be seeing him for a few minutes.’ Kitty shot past her and raced down the stairs as the woman muttered to herself before going on her way.

  Once outside the parlour door, Kitty paused to rake her fingers through her hair and draw herself upright, then with what dignity she could muster she entered the room.

  ‘Oh, darling, how are you?’

  His touching look of concern shocked her.

  ‘I can’t begin to apologise enough for what happened last night, but please know that it doesn’t alter the way I feel about you. Also, I want you to know it all came about by accident. You see, Mr Travers visited the studio one day and happened to see the photographs I had taken of you which I had foolishly left lying about. I know I should never have taken those particular ones without your permission, but they were meant to be for my eyes only.’

  ‘That’s not what you said last night,’ Kitty accused him. ‘And you admitted to drugging me!’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ he agreed, looking shamefaced. ‘But I only wanted to make you feel more relaxed. I didn’t realise the drug would affect you quite so badly. Please forgive me.’ He pointed to a huge box on the floor. ‘Look, I bought you a present.’

  She did so want to forgive him but the memory of the night before was still very fresh in her mind. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  He smiled and her heart skipped a beat.

  ‘Why don’t you open it and see? I’m not sure that Ruby and Miss Fox will approve of it, but I hope you will. If you don’t, I can always take it back.’

  She dithered for a moment but then curiosity got the better of her and she bent to lift the lid. And then she gave a joyous cry as a tiny bundle of fur launched itself at her.

  ‘It’s a Cavalier King Charles puppy,’ Richard informed her as she tried to hold it at arm’s length. It was furiously licking every inch of her it could reach, with its tiny tail wagging fifteen to the dozen and Kitty’s heart was lost.

  ‘Oh … it’s quite beautiful. Is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘A girl – well, I suppose I should say a bitch really.’

  Kitty laughed as the little body snuggled into her. ‘I shall call her Tallulah,’ she declared as she and the pup surveyed each other. ‘Thank you. We had dogs back at Treetops but I never had one of my very own before.’

  ‘So, am I forgiven then?’

  Staring at him over the dog’s head she said, ‘If I say yes, what will happen now?’

  ‘Unfortunately, we – or should I say you – will have to continue to be nice to Mr Travers and his friends from time to time. We will lose everything if you don’t. Your music-hall bookings, your modelling assignments … But it won’t be so bad. You’ll get used to it and I assume Ruby has explained how you can prevent—’

  Kitty flushed and nodded rapidly. ‘Yes, she has.’

  ‘Good, then let’s try and put what happened last night behind us.
You must know how much I care about you and how jealous I was to have to let Edward …’ He came to a halt. ‘But let’s not go into that, eh? Just know that whatever happens from now on, you are my girl forever.’

  Kitty stared at him reproachfully for a moment. Half of her urged the other half to walk away right now. And yet she couldn’t begin to imagine her life without him in it any more. And he had finally said that she was his girl! Her heart sang. He had finally said it straight out. She was his. It could only be a matter of time before he asked her to marry him – and then she wouldn’t care what happened to her career. She would be his wife and they could put all this behind them for ever.

  She nodded, too full to speak, and as he hugged her and the puppy to him he grinned slyly to himself over her shoulder. Just as he had planned, she was now his to use and abuse as he liked, and what a little earner she was turning out to be already! Edward Travers had paid him generously for her favours the night before. Of course, he would have to give some of that to Ruby, that was part of their agreement. But this was only the beginning. Kitty Nightingale was like putty in his hands.

  ‘What the hell is that?’ Miss Fox asked a short time later when Kitty was standing in the hallway with the puppy in her arms.

  Kitty giggled, more her old self again. ‘Richard bought her for me. I’m going to call her Tallulah. Isn’t she lovely?’

  Miss Fox looked positively horrified. ‘But it’ll be messing and piddling all over the place,’ she groaned. ‘We’ll have to get a kennel outside for it. I can’t see Cook allowing it in her kitchen. And who will look after the dratted mucky little thing when you’re out?’

  ‘She will not live outside, she will stay in my room with me,’ Kitty told her forcefully. ‘And when I’m out, Maggie will keep her company.’ With that she sailed past the woman with her nose in the air and Miss Fox stifled a grin. The girl had been down in the dumps for a time now but the puppy seemed to have perked her up no end. She just hoped this Tallulah wouldn’t start chewing up everything in sight. Puppies had a habit of doing that.

  Turning her attention to Richard, Miss Fox treated him to a glacial stare and he beat a hasty retreat to the drawing room to see Ruby before he left. Noticing that he had left the door slightly ajar, Foxy made towards it with the intention of closing it. However, as she reached out for the handle she saw through the crack Richard hand a wad of notes to Ruby who immediately pushed them down her cleavage, which seemed to be increasing by the day. No wonder, Miss Fox thought, the amount of food and chocolate she put away.

  ‘So, it all went as planned then?’ Miss Fox heard Ruby say.

  ‘Absolutely! Travers was thrilled with her though she took a bit of persuading.’ Richard laughed as he sank into a chair. ‘I had to resort to a touch of blackmail. But I bought her a puppy this morning so I think I’m back in favour. It will be easier next time, I’ve no doubt.’

  ‘A puppy!’ Ruby sounded appalled. She couldn’t abide the nasty little things, but then if it kept the girl quiet it would be worth putting up with it, for now at least.

  Unable to control her rage, Miss Fox flung the door open and marched into the room. She didn’t like the sound of this at all.

  ‘Just what is going on?’ she demanded as two pairs of eyes turned to stare at her.

  ‘Going on? I don’t know what you mean, Foxy.’ Ruby fluttered her eyelashes, the picture of innocence. ‘Richard here was just saying that Kitty didn’t seem so keen to do her modelling last night, that’s all, and after he’s worked so hard to set it all up for her and get such important contacts too.’

  ‘In case you had forgotten, Kitty is not yet eighteen, she’s still just a child,’ Miss Fox rapped out. ‘And if I find out that either of you are trying to force her to do something against her will—’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so silly,’ Ruby interrupted with a wounded look on her face. ‘As if I would do anything to hurt her. You should give me more credit, Foxy darling.’

  Miss Fox wavered. Ruby was very convincing so perhaps she had just got the wrong end of the stick?

  Richard meanwhile beat another hasty retreat. ‘It’s time I was off,’ he said and after nodding towards the two ladies, he disappeared. Miss Fox shut the door behind him before rounding on Ruby.

  ‘I reckon it’s about time you put your daughter’s interests first,’ she said. ‘The poor lass must wonder why you ever bothered uprooting her – and if I find out that you only want her for the money she can earn—’

  ‘Oh, Foxy, there you go again!’ Ruby dramatically ran her hand across her forehead. ‘You’re giving me a headache by keeping going on at me. Of course, I love Kitty dearly. It’s just that I’m having to learn how to be a mother and it isn’t easy.’

  Miss Fox felt slightly mollified. Admittedly, it couldn’t be easy for her. After all, until Kitty had arrived, Ruby had never had to think of anyone but herself and she had been used to being the centre of attention.

  ‘Well, just think on what I’ve said!’ With that Miss Fox sailed from the room like a ship in full rig. No doubt she should go and sort out some sleeping arrangements for the latest addition to the household before she had the housekeeper moaning about it. As if she didn’t have enough to do!

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Finally, late in July 1914, Sunday and Tom left the children at Treetops in the capable hands of Lavinia and caught the train to London. Sunday had given her husband no peace since seeing the newspaper report on Kitty, and at last they were on their way to search for her. Tom also hoped that a few days alone together would allow them to regain the closeness they had once shared and he was in good spirits, but Sunday’s thoughts were all focused on tracking Kitty down. After all, she reasoned, if the Kitty she had read about in the paper was indeed their Kitty, it shouldn’t be so hard, surely?

  Once they had alighted from the train at Euston, they booked into a small but comfortable hotel in Marylebone.

  ‘I was thinking we could have a nice meal in the hotel this evening and start our search in the morning,’ Tom said with a hopeful sparkle in his eye but Sunday quashed his hopes immediately.

  ‘The sooner we find her, the sooner we can return home,’ she told him coldly, and so the search began in earnest that very evening as they began to tour the sites of the music halls to examine the acts that were advertised on the billboards outside. It was late in the afternoon on their second day when they at last found what they were looking for. They had hired a cab to take them to Wilton’s Music Hall in the East End, halfway between Whitechapel and the Tower of London.

  Almost before the hackney cab had stopped, Sunday leaped down, pointing excitedly to the billboard.

  ‘Tom – it’s Kitty. Look!’

  Kitty’s picture was plastered across a large billboard and even in her fine gown with her hair piled in curls high on the crown of her head, there could be no doubt that it was her.

  Tom stared at it in wonderment. Kitty looked so grown up compared to the young girl he loved and remembered so well. For the first time in weeks Sunday was smiling and hopping from foot to foot in her excitement.

  ‘She’s not performing here until tomorrow evening,’ he pointed out, but Sunday didn’t care, she was so thrilled to have found her.

  ‘You must go in and book our tickets immediately,’ she ordered him. ‘Then when the performance is over we’ll ask if we can go backstage to see her.’

  Almost as excited as his wife was, Tom strode away to do as he was told. For the rest of that evening and the whole of the next day, Sunday paced about their hotel room like a caged animal, wishing away the hours until she could see her beloved Kitty again. They left their room just the once when Tom persuaded her to go shopping for something special to wear to the performance. Although music-hall audiences came from all walks of life, including those who didn’t have two ha’pennies to rub together, Sunday wanted to make an effort. She chose a pretty green satin gown that belied her forty-four years and showed off her still-slim figure t
o perfection.

  At last it was time to set off for the music hall. Kitty had star billing and would be the final act on stage, so once again Sunday had to quell her impatience as she and Tom sat through several variety acts before the interval. It was then that, rising from her seat, she said, ‘I’m going backstage right now. I shall burst if I have to wait much longer to see her.’

  Tom looked uncertain as she snatched up her cloak. ‘Look, pet, is that a good idea? She’ll no doubt be busy getting ready.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Sunday retorted with a toss of her head. ‘I’m sure she’ll make time to see us when she knows we’re here.’ And with that she was off and Tom had no choice but to follow her.

  Eventually, after explaining to various people that they were Kitty’s family they were directed backstage and found themselves in a long corridor with dressing rooms on either side of it.

  Sunday skipped along, studying the names on the doors until she stopped at one, exclaiming, ‘This is it! KITTY NIGHTINGALE!’ she told Tom, and without even giving him a chance to reply, she rapped on the door and threw it open.

  The young woman sitting at the mirror applying her greasepaint spun round to see who it was and at sight of Sunday a million different emotions flitted across her face.

  ‘Sunday!’ Her first reaction was to race across the room and throw her arms about her, but she stopped herself just in time. She wasn’t the same girl that Sunday had known. She carried dark secrets – and she knew that she would not be able to bear it if Sunday or Tom were ever to find out what she had been forced to do. ‘How are you?’ she asked instead, forcing her voice to remain steady as she turned back to the mirror.

  Sunday looked at Tom in bewilderment before answering, ‘Well, better now that I’ve seen you, pet. We were worried sick when we didn’t hear from you.’

  Kitty didn’t believe her for a second. She had written letters which had been ignored – and they couldn’t have all have got lost in the post. ‘Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly all right and making rather a name for myself,’ Kitty answered coolly.