by Lyn Gardner
Olivia raced down to the stage, screaming, “Ella! Arthur! Fire! Fire!” She tugged at the curtain to try and pull it down, hoping it would fall and smother the flames that had suddenly spluttered into life and were quickly licking upwards. But the curtain didn’t budge. Olivia cursed Arthur’s sturdy handiwork as she felt the heat of the flames on her face.
She looked around wildly and her eye fell on the high-wire. She leapt on it, took a deep breath and then ran at top speed towards the curtain, trying to gather all the momentum she could. As she reached the end of the wire she made a flying leap upwards. For a moment it seemed as if she had misjudged her jump and would fly into a wall of flame, but she landed on the curtain just above the flames, although rather too close for comfort.
Olivia began to haul herself up the curtain, just ahead of the curling flame, aiming to make it to the top and wrench it from its fastenings before she was consumed by the fire. She felt the warmth tickling ominously at her feet and smoke was beginning to billow all around her. Its acrid taste hit the back of her throat and made her choke. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
Olivia glanced down at the advancing flames. She heaved herself up with one last stupendous effort and reached desperately for the curtain fastening. She was no longer just trying to save Campion’s, she was trying to save her own life too. There was a sudden roar of ravenous flame as the fire really took hold, a loud cry and the curtain tore away from its fastenings and fell down to the stage with Olivia still clinging to it. She opened her mouth to scream but was shocked into silence by the icy water being poured over her head.
“More tea?” asked Ella.
“Yes, please,” said Alicia. They were sitting on the horseshoe balcony overlooking the stage. The smell of singed material was still very strong, but with the exception of the curtain, there was no other fire damage. Alicia gazed around her at the gilt and eggshell-blue interior, the massive mirrors and the chandelier with its hundreds of crystal drops.
“It’s so exquisite,” she said. “You know, I think it’s the most beautiful theatre I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a few in my time. It’s amazing to think that this gem has been hidden away all these years. It’s extraordinary, and you’ve kept it so beautifully. It must have been a real labour of love.”
“Yes,” said Ella quietly. “It has been.” She looked at Olivia. “And if it hadn’t been for Livy, it would have all gone up in smoke, and Arthur and me with it. I have a lot to thank you for, Livy. You were very brave. It was all my fault too. I came in here, moved the ghost-light so I could sweep the stage and then remembered I’d put a pan of milk on to heat. I went back into the kitchen and then to bed and quite forgot about leaving the ghost-light so close to the curtain. I’m getting old and forgetful.”
“Well, thank goodness that nobody was hurt,” said Alicia. “Although when I got Tom’s call telling me there’d been an accident in Hangman’s Alley, my heart was in my mouth. Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor, Livy?”
Olivia shook her head firmly.
“She’s as tough as old boots,” said Tom. “We’ll have to call her Nine Lives Liv.”
“It was just lucky that Arthur poured that bucket of water over me when he did.” Olivia grinned. “Things were getting a bit hot. At least what was left of the curtain was thick enough to break my fall.”
“What I don’t understand,” said Eel, “is how Livy knew that something was wrong in the first place.”
Olivia said nothing; she just glanced quickly at Ella.
“Just good luck, I suppose,” said Alicia. “Although, from what Olivia says, Campion’s was playing on her mind. Maybe it was her unconscious that drew her here. Perhaps what some people might call sixth sense?”
“Perhaps,” said Eel curiously. “But she kept saying she could hear children’s voices telling her to come here when we were down by the railway bridge in Henley Street. Tom and I couldn’t hear anything but she was very insistent. It was as if she was getting a message. But the really strange thing, when you think about it, is that at that point the fire couldn’t even have broken out.”
“Ooh, spooky,” said Tom, trying to make light of it. “But it is Hallowe’en, after all.”
“Yes,” said Olivia, looking directly at Ella. “It is Hallowe’en. And tonight when I heard the children they weren’t laughing, they were crying.”
“Oh, it was probably the wind carrying the distant sounds of trick-or-treaters,” said Alicia breezily. “I think we can safely say it wasn’t ghosts. There’s always a scientific explanation for these things.”
“By Henley Street railway bridge, you say?” said Ella softly.
“Yes,” said Olivia, and she saw that Ella was staring at her very hard. The church clock struck a quarter to midnight.
“Ella, we must go,” said Alicia. “How did it get so late? Thank you for the tea and thank you for allowing me to see your beautiful, beautiful theatre.”
Ella stood up. “It’s I who should thank you. Without Livy, Campion’s would have burned to a cinder.” She turned to Olivia. “I want to give you a thank-you present. I want you and the Swans to perform your production of Cinderella here at Campion’s. The whole run, as many performances as you like. It’s my gift to you.” She looked around the theatre. “It’s time to put out the ghost-light and welcome real performers back on to the stage. Campion’s is open for business again.”
Everyone looked at each other and broke into peals of delighted laughter.
Theo was pacing up and down in his flat.
“It’s almost midnight, Theo,” said Sheridan, looking at her phone. “I said I’d ring on the dot and let Hollywood know that you’ll do it.”
Theo gave an unhappy sigh. “I just really thought that Livy and Alicia would pull it off. They’re not the kind of people to be beaten.”
“Ah,” said Sheridan sagely. “Maybe luck wasn’t with them. Never mind. The Swan’s loss will be Hollywood’s gain…” The church clock in the square beyond began to strike midnight.
“Right,” said Sheridan with a happy smile. “I’m making that call.” She went to press a button on her phone and at that moment Theo’s mobile chirped into life. Alicia’s number flashed on the screen. He held it to his ear.
“Theo! It’s Livy. You will go to the ball, after all! We’ve found a theatre. The most magical theatre in the entire world!”
Theo gave a yelp of pleasure and his face was suffused with a rosy glow of happiness. Sheridan stood watching him for a moment as he talked excitedly into the phone, and then she picked up her new Gucci handbag and walked out of the flat without even saying goodbye.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ella pulled out a photograph and showed it to Olivia and Tom. Olivia guessed immediately who it was. The photo was black-and-white and yellowing at the corners. But the three people in the picture – a young woman and two laughing children – looked full of life, as if they might just step out of the photo any moment and say hello. But Olivia knew that they had been dead for more than fifty years.
“My sister-in-law, Helen, and her twins, Elisabeth and David,” said Ella. “My brother‘s children. He was a bomber pilot in the war before he was shot down and killed. After that, Helen and the children came to live with me at Campion’s, even though I told them that they’d be safer in the country. But they wouldn’t hear of it. They loved Campion’s. All three of them. Lizzie and Davey played hide-and-seek and ‘it’ all over the building. The children had their own special seats right in the front of the balcony. They’d sit there for hours, watching everything that was taking place on the stage. They acted in several Campion’s shows over the years. It was in their blood. Helen had been a dancer here before the war. In fact, I couldn’t have kept the place open during the war without her help. Those children never stopped laughing, not even when the bombs fell and we had to run to the Tube station and take shelter on the platform. They thought they were invincible.”
She pulled o
ut another photo. “Here they are in their sailor suits as the Babes in the Wood. Oh and look, here they are walking the tightrope; not that they were ever as good as you and Tom, Livy. But when I first heard you laughing and glimpsed you on the wire, I thought that they had come back to me. Here they are in Cinderella too. I played Cinders and Helen was the fairy godmother and Lizzie and Davey were the white mice and assorted villagers.” Her eyes brimmed with tears at all the memories. “I suppose I hoped that one day Campion’s would be theirs to look after and cherish just as my brother and I had inherited and looked after it.”
“Ella, you don’t have to tell us any more,” said Olivia.
“No, I want to. I need to,” said Ella. She took a deep breath.
“The three of them died six years after the war. An unexploded bomb had been dropped during the war but rolled down the embankment by the Henley Street railway bridge into the undergrowth so nobody realised it was there. It could have gone off at any moment. But it didn’t: not until midnight on Hallowe’en nineteen fifty-one, when Helen and Lizzie and Davey were walking past it. They were the only casualties. Killed instantly. And it was my fault.”
“But, Ella, it was an accident. You couldn’t possibly have been to blame. It was just terrible bad luck that they were there when the bomb exploded.”
Ella dabbed at her faded eyes with a tissue. “But they were coming to find me at the Tube station. They were worried about me. I was late back from a night out at the Glass Slipper. I’d promised I’d be home much earlier and when I didn’t come back they got worried and came looking for me. If I’d come home when I’d said I would, they’d probably all three be sitting here today.”
“The Glass Slipper? I’ve heard that name before,” said Olivia. “Gran mentioned it. It was a club, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Ella. “One of those new-style places that sprung up after the war when everyone fell in love with all things American. People were fed up with the past. They wanted brand-new shiny things. Campion’s had done fine during the war but afterwards people turned their backs on it. They thought we were an Edwardian relic with our old-fashioned pantomimes and music-hall-style entertainment. They wanted something racier, something more sophisticated. Within a couple of years of the war ending we were in trouble. We were going to go under. I didn’t dare tell Helen and the twins. I was desperate. Campion’s had been in our family since it first opened; I couldn’t bear to think that I might be the one to lose it.”
“But you didn’t lose it. It’s still here, and you’ve really looked after it and lavished it with love,” said Olivia.
“Yes, but I closed it down. You were right, Olivia, when you said that I turned it into a museum or a shrine. I was angry when you said that but you are right. A theatre isn’t a theatre unless it’s used. It’s just another building, slowly falling into disrepair as you try to hold back the ravages of time. A theatre needs actors, an audience, dancers, orchestras, otherwise it’s taken over by the ghosts. I gave Campion’s to the ghosts; I gave it to the dead.”
“I still don’t understand why,” said Olivia.
“Because I fell in love with a man who I thought loved me but who only wanted to take Campion’s from me. His name was Hugo Prince. He was handsome, debonair and the owner of the Glass Slipper. He turned up here one night. There was almost no one in the audience. He was smart; he must have realised immediately we were in financial trouble. He showed an interest in me, asked me out for a drink. I was flattered. I’d been married to Campion’s for such a long time. I was in my thirties by then and I didn’t think I’d ever have a real relationship. But he seemed like the answer to all my dreams, a real-life Prince Charming. Hugo courted me, said he wanted us to get married and that he wanted to invest in Campion’s. He assured me that he wanted the place to stay the same. Livy, I can’t tell you what a relief it was. I knew how important it was to Helen and the twins that Campion’s carried on. And I loved Hugo. Or at least I thought I did. So we got engaged.”
“What happened?” asked Tom.
“On the night Helen and Lizzie and Davey died, I went to meet him at the Glass Slipper. I arrived a little early; he was in the supper area talking to the punters. I thought I’d surprise him and so I slipped into his office. I don’t know why, but I hid behind a curtain. A few minutes later he came in, but he wasn’t alone. He had his business partner with him and they were talking about Campion’s and their plans for it, how as soon as we were married he was going to rip the heart out of it and turn it into a chrome and leather banquette supper club like the Glass Slipper and bring in American singers and cocktail waitresses.”
“Did you confront him?”
“No,” said Ella sadly. “I was too much of a coward. I just left my engagement ring on his desk and walked out. I wandered around the streets for hours in a daze. I felt so betrayed. I don’t think he ever loved me at all; it had just been a pretence to get his hands on Campion’s. He wanted the name and the premises. I lost track of time. It was only when I heard the clock striking midnight that I realised how much time had passed and that Lily and the children would be worried sick about where I was. I caught the Tube and hurried towards Hangman’s Alley. As soon as I saw the ambulances and fire engines at the bridge I knew immediately. Campion’s has been closed from that day to this.”
“Did Hugo Prince ever try to contact you?”
Ella shook her head. “That’s how I knew it wasn’t love.”
“So you’ve been alone ever since.”
“Just me and Arthur. He was the stage manager and he refused to leave, even though he knew I couldn’t pay him. Oh, and of course, the ghosts have been here with me too.”
“Ella,” said Olivia slowly, “do you think that it’s time to let them go?”
Ella nodded. “Perhaps. Perhaps you and Tom were sent to set them free.”
“But it was just an accident that Tom’s glider flew in through the open window and we found Campion’s,” said Olivia, frowning.
Ella smiled dreamily. “Believe what you want, Livy, and give an old lady the comfort of believing what she wants.”
Out in the auditorium, some of the Swans and Theo were getting ready to run through a scene from Cinderella. The whole atmosphere of Campion’s was so magical that Jon was in raptures about its potential. Katie’s mum had been overcome with joy when she had discovered the old Campion’s backcloths that had been used for their productions of Cinderella since the nineteenth century. Most of them were too delicate to use any more, but she had been busy making careful copies and had suggested to Ella that she should contact a friend of hers who worked at the Victoria and Albert Museum and who could help in preserving them.
“They’ll be fascinated by all your stage equipment too,” she’d told Ella. “It’s extraordinary.”
Ella had smiled. “Just as long as it stays in the theatre and doesn’t end up in a museum. I want Campion’s to come back to life. I want it to live again. I want to live again.”
And the thing was, it was coming alive. The Swans were busy all over the building, rehearsing or helping to bring the neglected areas beyond the stage and auditorium back to life. Even Theo was helping sweep and clean, and he had never looked happier. He tap danced as he worked.
Eel and some other Swans were helping Alicia clear up the bar area, which was thick with dust and cobwebs. Eel was standing on a chair rubbing hard at an old mirror and making it sparkle.
“You’re doing a good job there, Eel,” said Tom encouragingly.
“I know,” said Eel. “I am.”
“Livy, could you help me?” asked Katie shyly. “I want to move this chest to get behind it. The skirting board is filthy.”
“Of course,” said Olivia.
Katie had seemed so much more relaxed over the last couple of weeks. She was no longer cutting herself off from the others, and often came and sat quietly with Olivia, Tom, Georgia and Aeysha, not saying much but smiling at their chatter.
The chest was
heavy to shift. “Are you looking forward to the skating the day after tomorrow?” asked Olivia.
Katie nodded. “It’ll be brilliant. But I’m not great at it. I always need someone to hang on to or I’ll fall over.”
“We all need someone to hang on to,” said Olivia softly. “You’re not the only one.”
“Livy,” said Katie urgently. “I want to say thank you. You and Tom and the others, you’ve all been—”
Olivia put up a warning hand. “Don’t say anything, Katie. You’re part of the gang now.”
At that moment, Georgia appeared at the door to show everyone her ballgown.
“Oh, Georgie, you look just like a princess,” said Eel.
Georgia glowed.
“As pretty as a picture,” said Alicia softly. Several Swans broke into a spontaneous rendition of “One Day My Prince will Come”. Georgia blushed. She was loving playing Cinderella, except for one thing: it was going to be so embarrassing having to kiss Kasha in front of all her friends. The Swans gathered around Georgia, serenading her and making her blush all the more.
Katie watched her from a little distance. She was genuinely pleased that Georgia was going to play Cinderella. She had sensed how important getting Zelda had been for Georgia, and, as she had told Alicia when the whole sorry story of her involvement in the Zelda auditions had tumbled out, one of the things she felt most guilty about was that she might have deprived Georgia – the only other blonde in the running – of her big chance by her actions.
“I feel as if I’ve somehow cheated her,” said Katie sadly. “And she’s always been so nice to me.”
“Even if you hadn’t been picked, Georgia might not have got Zelda,” said Alicia. “We can speculate but we’ll never know. Listen, Katie, you could confess, but why upset Georgia? She’s happy playing Cinderella. Sometimes things fall out for the best.”