Little Stars

by Jacqueline Wilson

‘It will suit splendidly!’ I said.

  ‘Then run along now, dears.’

  We didn’t just run, we skipped! We didn’t wait for Bertie, though Diamond wanted to.

  ‘No, don’t let’s. He’s still in a bit of a sulk,’ I said. ‘Oh, Diamond, imagine! Tea with Marina Royal!’

  ‘What do you think we’ll have to eat?’ asked Diamond. ‘Will it be the pretty pink-and-yellow cake? Oh, I do hope so!’

  ‘I don’t care what we eat, just so we can be with Miss Royal. She’s so wonderful. What do you think they want to discuss with us, Diamond?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. They want to talk to us just because they like us,’ she said.

  ‘No, I think it’s more than that.’ My head was whirling. ‘Do you think – oh, do you think they might be inviting us to act in their show? They were gazing at us so intently, nodding and smiling. Why else would they be taking such a keen interest in our performance? Perhaps they want to include us in the comical murder play? Maybe I could act as a maid?’

  ‘But you didn’t like being a maid, Hetty,’ said Diamond.

  ‘I hated being a real one, but acting one would be entirely different.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d like to act. I wouldn’t be able to remember any new lines.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you could act the little daughter of the house. You could just sit on a rug and look sweet, but not say a word.’

  ‘Could I play with Adeline and Maybelle?’

  ‘Yes! Well, maybe not Maybelle, as she’s a little shabby now, but certainly Adeline,’ I said. ‘And then, when they do their Romeo and Juliet scene, maybe we could be fairies dancing in the moonlight. Shakespeare has lots of fairies in A Midsummer Night’s Dream so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. You’d make a lovely fairy, Diamond.’

  ‘That’s what Mister called me. I don’t want to be a fairy,’ said Diamond stubbornly.

  ‘Well, you don’t have to act at all if you really don’t want to. But I rather fancy it myself,’ I said.

  Fancy it! I longed with all my heart to be a tiny part of the Parkinson Players and share the stage with Marina Royal.

  The next day I was restless with excitement, barely able to sit still and sew. I couldn’t wait to go to the Queen’s Hotel for our afternoon tea. But what time was afternoon tea? I was furious with myself for not enquiring. When I was a maid, I served afternoon tea to Mr Buchanan at four o’clock, but when I visited Mama at Bignor, her crotchety old mistress demanded it at three on the dot.

  ‘Miss Gibson, what time is afternoon tea?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, it can be any time, dear,’ she said unhelpfully. It was difficult to understand her because she was busy turning a hem and had a handful of pins in her mouth.

  ‘What time do hotels start serving it, do you know?’

  ‘I would think around half past two,’ said Miss Gibson, inserting another few pins.

  Diamond was staring at her in fascination. ‘Don’t those pins prick you terribly, Miss Gibson?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course not, dearie. The rounded heads are in my mouth, see?’

  ‘Don’t you try to copy Miss Gibson, Diamond,’ I said quickly. ‘You’ll sneeze or swallow and do yourself endless mischief. So, hotels serve afternoon tea early, at half past two?’

  ‘Yes, but they carry on serving it throughout the afternoon until about five o’clock.’

  ‘Oh goodness. So how on earth do I work out when we’re expected?’

  ‘Is dear Bertie asking you out for afternoon tea at a hotel today?’ Miss Gibson sounded wistful, maybe hurt she wasn’t invited too.

  ‘No, no. Miss Marina Royal and Mr Gerald Parkinson have invited us,’ I said grandly.

  Miss Gibson winced as if all the pins in her mouth had turned tail and attacked her. She spat them out to speak properly. ‘Isn’t she that old actress you keep talking about – the one that’s joined the Cavalcade? And Gerald Parkinson is her fancy man?’

  ‘No! I mean, yes, Miss Royal is a wonderful, extremely famous actress, but Mr Parkinson isn’t her fancy man! He’s her manager and he acts too. He’s surprisingly good, but still not a patch on Marina Royal. She’s utterly magnificent,’ I said.

  ‘But she’s still an actress. I know you have to associate with them all at the Cavalcade, but I really don’t think it’s proper taking tea with such types,’ said Miss Gibson primly.

  ‘Miss Gibson, if you don’t mind my saying so, you’re a terrible hypocrite! You’re happy enough to make a profit making gowns for all the Cavalcade ladies,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t make any profit at all out of that blue gown you were working on. I didn’t see a penny for that fine muslin you used for the sleeves, not to mention the skeins of embroidery silk.’

  ‘Oh, that’s not fair! You know I’m going to pay you as soon as I get my wages!’

  ‘Now now, don’t use that tone to me! I can’t really blame you, Hetty, because I know you’ve had an unfortunate background. You haven’t had a mother around to teach you the ways of the world. It’s perfectly acceptable to run a respected business and converse pleasantly with Mrs Ruby when she orders gowns from my establishment, but I’d never dream of taking tea with her at a hotel.’

  ‘Then you’re very silly,’ I said. ‘And totally illogical. You had no qualms when you thought we were having tea with Bertie, and he works at the Cavalcade.’

  ‘But he’s your young man, and a very sweet boy too. Totally devoted, in fact. You beware of taking him for granted! He could easily turn, you know. I’m sure he isn’t too keen on you running around with painted actresses who give themselves airs.’

  ‘I don’t care whether Bertie approves or not. Or you, for that matter! I keep my own counsel,’ I said, and I flounced out of the room.

  I decided that Diamond and I would have to lurk discreetly opposite the Queen’s Hotel, waiting until we saw Miss Royal and Mr Parkinson go inside. It seemed a sensible plan in theory, but it was a chilly afternoon, and Diamond and I hadn’t wanted to spoil the effect of our best frocks by covering them with old shawls. We hopped up and down on the pavement, shivering.

  ‘Can’t we go inside and wait?’ Diamond begged.

  ‘No, I think it’s more polite if we join them when they’re already at a table. I don’t want to look too forward,’ I said, wishing I knew more about general etiquette.

  ‘But I’m getting awfully cold. And I very much need to visit the WC,’ said Diamond.

  After another ten minutes this became a matter of urgency. I needed to go myself, so I agreed that we should go into the hotel. It wasn’t as gilded and grand as the Cavalcade and didn’t boast a single chandelier, but it seemed formidable even so. A man in livery was standing in the vestibule, staring at us disdainfully.

  ‘I’m afraid unaccompanied children are not allowed in here,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not a child,’ I said indignantly. ‘And we won’t be unaccompanied anyway. We are joining Miss Marina Royal and Mr Gerald Parkinson for afternoon tea.’

  ‘Then please proceed to the Pink Room, where afternoon tea is served,’ he said, sniffing.

  ‘But first we require a visit to the ladies’ room,’ I whispered, blushing.

  I felt as if everyone was staring as he directed us down a corridor – but my spirits lifted when we were inside the ladies’ room. The facilities were very grand and glamorous. Diamond was so fascinated by the swoosh of water when she pulled the chain that she ran into each and every cubicle to repeat the action. I spent ages washing my hands in the hot water, using a particularly delectable honeysuckle soap. I dabbed a little behind my ears to act as perfume.

  There were snowy white towels and free little brushes to tidy our hair.

  ‘Is this money for us too?’ Diamond asked, fingering a little mound of pennies in a saucer.

  ‘No, I think that must be for the lady attendant,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, how I should like to be a lady attendant in a fancy WC,’ said Diamond. ‘You could play waterfalls wit
h the water closets all day long and get lots of pennies every day!’

  ‘We’re not going to be WC attendants. We’re artistes. We like to perform,’ I reminded her.

  Diamond wrinkled her nose. ‘Some of us like it. And some of us don’t!’

  ‘Some of us are just plain awkward,’ I said, splashing her with water from the tap.’

  Diamond shrieked and splashed me back.

  ‘No – don’t! Stop it! We’re wearing our best dresses,’ I said.

  We did stop, but even so we seemed to have become very wet. I dabbed at us with the towel, but we were still damp when we emerged from the ladies’ room. We peeped into the Pink Room, and luckily, there were Miss Royal and Mr Parkinson, sitting in rose velvet armchairs before a low table set with fancy white and gold china.

  ‘Hello, dears. My goodness, have you recently taken a bath?’ asked Miss Royal, looking amused.

  ‘Hetty splashed me!’ said Diamond. ‘So I splashed her back!’

  ‘You really are just children!’ said Miss Royal. ‘Well, sit down at once and we’ll call for some tea. And absolutely no splashing, nor spilling either!’

  I felt my face glowing hot. How could I have acted so foolishly in the ladies’ room? I hated being treated like a naughty little girl. Diamond looked a little nonplussed too. We sat very subdued while Miss Royal ordered four teas. She had a way of summoning a waiter out of a blank wall and dispatching him about his business with a wave of her white hand. I wondered if I would ever acquire that authoritative air. I remembered Bertie trying to act grandly in the club, but not quite getting it right. It was such a struggle to master the right manners in fancy society!

  Diamond sat fidgeting, running her finger round and round the gold rim of her china plate. She was looking at it hopefully. ‘Will there be cake?’ she mouthed at me.

  ‘Yes, there will!’ Miss Royal told her. ‘Lots of cake.’

  ‘Everything’s better with cake,’ Diamond and I chanted together.

  It had been one of Madame Adeline’s special sayings.

  There were sandwiches first, dainty little cucumber ones, very pretty, but not really tasting of anything. Then there were scones, and they were much better because we were given tiny pots of cream and strawberry jam to go with them. Diamond popped her pot of jam in her pocket when she thought no one was looking. I knew she was taking it home as a present for Adeline and Maybelle.

  Then the plate of cakes arrived, and they were truly splendid. No pink-and-yellow cake, sadly, but there were little fruit tarts with whorls of cream, tiny coffee and chocolate choux buns, small slices of lemon cake, and the Pink Room speciality, rose cream meringues.

  ‘Oh, how shall I ever choose!’ Diamond wailed.

  ‘You may have one of each,’ said Miss Royal.

  I hoped she meant I could too. Miss Royal herself ate with gusto, tucking into the cakes, licking cream from her fingers and devouring her meringue with great relish. Mr Parkinson ate hardly anything, just a plate of thin bread and butter.

  Miss Royal saw me looking at him with concern. ‘Poor Gerald has trouble with his tummy,’ she said, patting him fondly.

  ‘Ulcers!’ he said. ‘Because of all my business worries!’

  ‘And talking of business,’ said Miss Royal, ‘we have a little proposition for you.’ She dabbed her lips with the napkin and sat up straight. ‘Your performance is very stylish and the two of you act it out very cleverly. Who taught you?’

  ‘No one,’ I said proudly.

  ‘Well, Hetty taught me,’ said Diamond. ‘I have to act like a dummy dolly.’

  ‘And you do it magnificently,’ said Miss Royal. ‘Well, we were wondering if you’d care to join up with us Players in the second act? We like to change our comic sketch every month so the Cavalcade regulars won’t get bored of us. We’ve started rehearsing our new little comedy already.’

  ‘Oh my Lord, yes please!’ I declared. ‘We would absolutely love to, wouldn’t we, Diamond? It would be a great honour. We will play any parts. Oh, Miss Royal, thank you so much for giving us such an amazing opportunity,’ I burbled.

  But something was wrong. Miss Royal was staring at her empty plate, looking stricken.

  Mr Parkinson leaned over and patted my hand. ‘I’m afraid she wasn’t thinking of you, dear girl. It’s your little sister we’ve got our eye on,’ he said.

  ‘Oh!’ I blushed again, deeply and painfully. ‘Well, of course. Yes, Diamond. That will be lovely, won’t it, Diamond?’

  ‘Why don’t you want Hetty to do acting too? She’s much better at it than me,’ she said.

  ‘I dare say. I’m sure we’ll be able to find her a little part too. But you see we’re going to act a comedy sketch of Alice in Wonderland. So far Stella, our ingénue, has played Alice, but she’s a tall girl and clearly a young woman. We thought it would be funnier with a real child in the part, and you seem born to play Alice, Diamond, with all that lovely long hair.’

  ‘But Hetty has long hair too. Couldn’t she be Alice?’ asked Diamond.

  ‘She has lovely hair but it’s red, like mine. Alice is always fair,’ said Miss Royal. ‘Haven’t you seen the pictures in the story book?’

  ‘I’ll read it to her,’ I said. I hadn’t read it either. I had such a lot of catching up to do.

  ‘Does Alice say much?’ asked Diamond.

  ‘Oh yes, she has the biggest part,’ said Miss Royal, as if that would please her.

  Diamond slumped in her chair. ‘I’m not very good at remembering.’

  ‘I’ll coach her,’ I said.

  ‘That’s a good kind girl,’ said Miss Royal. ‘And of course we’ll pay you.’

  ‘Just a little token,’ Mr Parkinson added quickly.

  He went outside to smoke a cigar. Diamond said she wanted to visit the ladies’ room again.

  I stood up to go with her, but Miss Royal stopped me. ‘You run along, Diamond. I just need a little word with your sister,’ she said.

  When Diamond had gone, Miss Royal leaned close to me, looking into my eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, dear. It must seem so tactless, offering your little sister such a chance and not you. I hadn’t quite realized how it would affect you.’

  ‘That’s quite all right,’ I said stiffly, terrified I might actually burst into tears.

  ‘It’s no reflection on you or your acting. It’s just that Diamond looks so perfect for Alice. And I meant what I said. We’ll find a special part for you too,’ she promised.

  ‘It’s very kind of you, Miss Royal,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Is your heart really set on acting?’

  ‘Yes it is!’ I said fervently. ‘When I watch you playing Juliet, I just believe in you. It’s as if it’s truly real. It gives me such a thrill. I can’t take my eyes off you.’

  ‘I wish you could have seen me long ago, when I was the right age to play the part,’ said Miss Royal. ‘About your age, Emerald. Though I believe Diamond called you Hetty. Is that your real name?’

  I hung my head. ‘Hetty Feather. It’s a horrible name.’

  ‘What about Ada Perks? That’s my real name. Far worse!’ said Miss Royal. ‘I changed it when I got my first part as Mamillius in The Winter’s Tale. I wasn’t much more than a baby, but I had enough savvy to choose well. Like you. What were our mothers thinking of!’

  ‘Well, actually, my mother didn’t choose Hetty at all. She wanted me to be called Sapphire, because I’ve got blue eyes. I should have been Sapphire Battersea,’ I said, unable to bear even a little criticism of Mama.

  ‘And does she call you Hetty or Emerald or Sapphire now?’

  I swallowed. My eyes were burning as well as my face. ‘She’s not here any more,’ I said, and tears suddenly spilled down my cheeks without warning.

  Miss Royal was so kind. She pulled her chair closer and put her arm round me. ‘There now. I’m so sorry, dear. I seem to have a knack of saying and doing the wrong thing with you. So who looks after you now, if your mother is no longer with us. Father?’
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  ‘Oh no. He lives in the north. He’s a fisherman,’ I said. ‘I don’t need looking after. I look after myself.’

  But actually I ached for someone to look after me. I loved leaning on Miss Royal’s warm shoulder, her arm round me, holding me close. I had a ridiculous urge to climb onto her lap like a baby and be truly comforted. I thought of those long nine years growing up in the Foundling Hospital, where I’d been pushed and pulled and frequently smacked, but never once held close or kissed.

  Then Diamond came running back and I quickly wiped my wet face with my napkin and smiled at her reassuringly. I might still long for my mama, but I had to pull myself together and act like Diamond’s mother instead.

  Mr Parkinson came back reeking of his Havana cigar, and started discussing our payment. As his company had its own private deal with Mrs Ruby, he would be paying us out of his own pocket. When he said a ‘token’, he meant exactly that. He offered Diamond half a crown a week, which seemed to me monstrously mean, seeing as Alice had to be the leading part in Alice in Wonderland.

  ‘And we will pay Emerald too, of course,’ said Miss Royal.

  I was offered even less, a shilling – a child’s pocket money.

  I was tempted to argue, but I sensed that Mr Parkinson wasn’t the sort of man to bargain with. I was pretty sure it was Miss Royal’s idea to try Diamond out as Alice. He clearly wasn’t the sort of man who liked children. When Diamond started prattling on about Adeline and Maybelle, he started yawning and consulting his watch.

  ‘Come along, my dear,’ he said, cupping Miss Royal’s elbow. ‘You need to rest before tonight’s show.’

  She raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Come to the Cavalcade tomorrow at ten in the morning and we will start rehearsals,’ she said. ‘I know you’ll both be splendid.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll be at all splendid,’ Diamond said to me on the way home. ‘I won’t have to learn too many lines, will I, Hetty?’

  ‘I’ll help you, don’t worry,’ I said, though I was worried myself, knowing that Diamond would struggle.

  ‘Is Alice a nice little girl?’

  ‘I’m sure she is. We must read the story.’

  The toyshop where we’d bought Adeline had several shelves of children’s story books. I spotted the little red volume of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland straight away. I had several shillings in my pocket just in case we’d been asked to pay for our own afternoon tea, so I bought the book.