Little Stars

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘I’m old too, Hetty. Look at me! I can’t bear to peer in a looking glass now – I’m such a fright. I think my time is coming soon too,’ she whispered.

  ‘No it’s not! You just need building up. You’ve got so very thin. Madame Adeline, please don’t mind my asking, but have you any money now? I don’t think you’ve been eating properly,’ I said, hoping she wouldn’t take offence.

  ‘I have money. Marvel had saved a great deal, bless him. But to tell the truth, I haven’t felt up to making my way through the woods and then facing the villagers. They’ve never really accepted us. They look down on circus folk. The woman in the stores is very unpleasant.’

  ‘Then it’s simple! You must move away.’

  ‘I haven’t the energy to sort everything out and put the cottage up for sale. I don’t know where to go, anyway. I’ve travelled all my life. I’ve no roots any more, no relations that I know of.’

  ‘Yes you have!’ I declared passionately. ‘You have us, Diamond and me! We’ll be your family. We’ll pack up now, take the keys and visit a solicitor. There must be one in the nearest town. Then you must come back to London with us. We will live together, you and me and Diamond – and little Mavis too.’

  ‘Oh, Hetty, don’t! Stop being so sweet to me, you’ll make me cry. You can’t burden yourself with a sad sick old woman.’

  ‘You are sad and sick, but I’m going to make you well and happy again, you wait and see,’ I said. ‘You won’t be a burden. You will keep house for us when you’re stronger, and look after Diamond when I’m on the stage. You will be our mother and we will be your loving daughters, I promise you.’

  I coaxed her out of her old wrapper and into her best dress. I found the pink gauze shawl she used to wear over her spangled costume, and arranged it round her thin shoulders. Then I dug deeper into her wardrobe and found her red wig. I combed it out carefully and then gently put it on her head, sweeping the long strands into a loose bun and securing it with hairpins. I found an old stick of carmine and outlined her lips, and then rubbed just a smidgeon on her white cheeks.

  ‘There!’ I said. ‘You look in that mirror now!’

  She looked and wept a little, but managed to smile too. She sat back in the chair while I roamed the rooms, trying to think what to take with us. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Madame Adeline here. I was still terrified she might take to her bed like poor Mr Marvel.

  I didn’t know how we could possibly carry everything between us – but we didn’t need to.

  ‘I don’t want anything,’ she murmured. ‘Just a change of clothes. I lost my home when I left my wagon at Tanglefield’s.’

  ‘And we had to leave it there when Diamond and I ran away,’ I said. ‘But perhaps one day we’ll be able to get you a new wagon, Madame Adeline.’

  ‘I think my travelling days are over, Hetty,’ she said.

  ‘Then if I get to be a really rich and famous actress, we will have a big house with an even bigger garden, and you can keep your wagon there. We could even have a paddock, and you can find a foal with a patch on his face like Pirate,’ I said.

  ‘Dear Hetty. You’ve always been so good at making up stories,’ she said. ‘Do you still keep a journal?’

  ‘I gave it up a while ago. There didn’t really seem any point any more. But perhaps I will write down everything that’s happened to me this past year. Goodness, so much has happened!’

  ‘And then, if you’re really rich and famous, perhaps someone will want to publish the story of your life?’ said Madame Adeline.

  ‘I used to hope that would happen,’ I said. ‘I was such a silly child!’

  ‘I think you’re the sort of girl who can make anything happen,’ she said. ‘You always manage to find me!’

  ‘We’re going to stay together for ever now,’ I told her.

  Diamond could hardly believe it when she came skipping back to the cottage, Mavis riding on her shoulder and tenderly gripping her ear. ‘Madame Addie’s coming to live with us? How wonderful!’ she said, clapping her hands.

  Madame Adeline wandered through the cottage one last time, laying her hands on everything as if saying goodbye. Her hands lingered on her rose-patterned china. ‘I bought it piece by piece, and displayed it all week in my wagon, before packing it up carefully to travel to the next place. Not a single piece broke – there’s not even a chip or a crack,’ she murmured.

  ‘Then we’ll take it with us,’ I said. ‘You’d better pack it yourself. I don’t think I have the knack.’

  It took a while for every piece to be carefully wrapped in old material and stacked neatly, cup in cup, saucer on saucer, plate on plate, in an old basket, but it seemed vital work. When we were outside the cottage at last, Madame Adeline carefully tore off several strands of honeysuckle and tucked them in the basket too.

  We had to undertake a long and complicated journey, back through the woods to the station, onto the train, off again at the next town to find a solicitor and give him the keys of the house and various instructions, and then on the train again to London. By this stage both Diamond and Mavis were fast asleep, Mavis tucked between Adeline and Maybelle like a furry third doll.

  It was pouring with rain when we reached the station, and we were loaded with bundles. Madame Adeline insisted on paying for a cab. I felt extremely anxious as we climbed out in front of Miss Grundy’s house. She had already been kind enough to let Diamond and me stay with her, and we hadn’t even paid her any rent yet. Perhaps it was too much to seek shelter for Madame Adeline too. She could have one of the attic beds while Diamond and I shared the other, and she had money to pay her way – but even so it seemed an imposition. And then there was Mavis. Most landladies would surely draw the line at circus livestock.

  I was hesitant about ringing the bell, though we were all getting very wet. I hoped Harry might answer the door, but I heard Miss Grundy’s light feet and the tap of her cane.

  ‘Hello, my dears!’ she said cheerily as she opened the door. ‘My, I’m glad you’re back from your trip. It’s been raining so hard. Little Lily came back soaked when I let her out in the back yard for two minutes. Come in and get dry, girls. You must look like two little orphans in the storm.’

  ‘Well, we’re actually three orphans, Miss Grundy,’ I said hesitantly.

  ‘No, four!’ said Diamond as Mavis scampered out of her arms and up onto her shoulder. The little monkey chattered anxiously.

  Miss Grundy squealed, startled by the sudden noise. ‘It’s a little creature! What kind is it?’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry, but it’s a little monkey. I promise it’s very sweet and well-trained,’ I said. ‘I do hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘A little monkey! Oh, I’m sure I love monkeys!’ Miss Grundy declared. ‘I wonder if it would like Lily’s basket? She often spends the night curled up with me.’

  ‘That’s so kind of you! And could our dear friend possibly share our room overnight, as it’s much too late for her to find other lodgings? She will of course pay you,’ I said.

  ‘Of course! Do come in. Shall we all have a cup of hot chocolate? Dear Harry’s out with some of his chums, but I dare say he’ll be home soon. I take it you’re another friend of his, Miss . . .?’

  ‘It’s Madame,’ said Diamond. ‘And she’s not Harry’s friend – not yet anyway – she’s our friend, Hetty’s and mine.’

  ‘She’s like a mother to us,’ I said, smiling at Madame Adeline reassuringly.

  She was looking desperately pale and I could see she was trembling, but she held out her hand and managed to say in her thrilling stage voice, ‘How do you do? I am Madame Adeline. I knew these dear girls when we all worked at Tanglefield’s Travelling Circus. I used to have an equestrian act.’

  I took off her soaked shawl and attended to Diamond, while Miss Grundy tapped her way up and down the stairs to get towels from the linen cupboard.

  ‘An equestrian act?’ she repeated politely.

  ‘She used to have six rosin-ba
cked horses – she was the star of the show,’ I said proudly.

  ‘There was talk of my joining a circus when I was a little girl, because of my unusual appearance,’ said Miss Grundy, pouring milk into a pan, careful not to spill a drop. She put it on the stove and spooned chocolate powder into four mugs. ‘I didn’t have any special skills. How I wish I could have had an equestrian act. Six horses, you said?’ She looked out into the hall hopefully, as if all six might come trotting through the door.

  ‘All gone,’ said Madame Adeline. ‘I have no act now. You get thrown out of the circus when you get old. I’m simply a sad old woman with no followers, no friends, apart from these two girls.’

  ‘They suggested I join a troupe of clowns,’ Miss Grundy told us.

  ‘Oh no, you wouldn’t want to work with clowns!’ said Diamond.

  ‘You’re absolutely right. I didn’t care for the idea of being laughed at. From the age of fifteen I tried my hand at various occupations, but I wasn’t a success because of my eyesight. When I was employed as a nurserymaid, little boys ran away from me. When I worked in a shop, bigger boys stole from me. When I worked in a factory, grown men played tricks on me.’ Miss Grundy smiled bravely. ‘But I’m a very lucky girl: my great-uncle took a shine to me. He left me this house! Now I’m a landlady, queen of my own little palace, forever making new and interesting friends.’

  We sat down at the kitchen table and drank our hot chocolate. Miss Grundy poured warm milk into two saucers for Lily and Mavis. They weren’t at all sure about each other. Lily hissed and Mavis screeched, but as long as Lily stayed on the floor and Mavis perched on Diamond’s shoulder, they didn’t come to blows.

  Miss Grundy opened a cake tin. We’d eaten all the pink-and-yellow cake but she found half a loaf of madeira. ‘It’s a little dry,’ she said, touching it delicately. ‘I’ll spread it with raspberry jam to liven it up.’

  It was a delicious combination. The colour crept back into Madame Adeline’s cheeks as she chatted to Miss Grundy, telling her all about her circus experiences. By the time our supper was finished they seemed like old friends.

  Then Harry swept in, a little the worse for wear, but very mellow and jolly. He gallantly kissed Madame Adeline’s hand and complimented her on her red hair.

  ‘I’m surrounded by Titian beauties,’ he said. ‘There’s you, dear Madame, and young Emerald here, and old Marina at work. Thank goodness you’re a snow-white maiden, Miss Grundy, to add a little variety to my life.’ He bowed low to each of us and then staggered off to his bed.

  We went to our beds too. Madame Adeline worried about Diamond and me having to share, but we assured her we preferred it.

  ‘It’s much more cosy,’ said Diamond. ‘In fact, you might feel lonely by yourself, Madame Adeline, so perhaps you’d like to borrow my doll for the night? She’s called Adeline. Isn’t she pretty? I named her after you.’

  Madame Adeline declined her namesake’s company. She fell asleep almost immediately, clearly exhausted. She looked so vulnerable with her wig on the bedpost. I was so concerned about her that I crept out of bed several times to peer at her in the moonlight. I felt all the old agony I’d suffered when I visited Mama at the hospital. I’d lost her much too soon. I couldn’t bear it if I lost Madame Adeline too.

  But she woke early in the morning, dressed quickly, applied a little colour to her face and adjusted her wig. By the time Diamond and I came downstairs Madame Adeline had helped Miss Grundy prepare breakfast and swept and dusted into the bargain.

  ‘I’ve never had a paying guest be such a help before,’ said Miss Grundy happily, frying a great pan of bacon for us all.

  We ate a hearty breakfast. Harry enjoyed two platefuls, in spite of his celebrations the night before. He took a great shine to little Mavis and fed her choice titbits. Then we had to rush to the rehearsal rooms, while Madame Adeline and Miss Grundy sat down with a fresh cup of tea and planned their day.

  ‘I wish I could stay with them,’ said Diamond wistfully. ‘I quite like being Little Em’ly, but I’d much, much sooner stay Little Diamond and play back at Miss Grundy’s.’

  ‘I know, but it will be fun to have a proper run-through of the whole play,’ I said.

  It turned out to be anything but fun. People kept forgetting their lines, or bumping into each other, or suddenly corpsing, cracking up with nervous laughter. As the day wore on, Mr Parkinson grew more and more irritable, reducing Stella to tears and even being a little savage with Miss Royal.

  She stuck her head proudly in the air and behaved impeccably, repeating a line again and again until he was satisfied, but during the brief lunch break we heard them having a furious row out in the corridor.

  ‘I don’t like them being so cross,’ Diamond whispered.

  ‘Don’t worry, chickie, they don’t really mean it,’ said Harry. ‘They always get a bit tense at this stage. And I dare say the dress rehearsal will be even worse, a positive nightmare. Though a bad dress rehearsal means a good first night, every actor knows that. On Monday night it will go splendidly, and then everyone will be all smiles, you mark my words.’

  THE DRESS REHEARSAL in the theatre went surprisingly well, though there were various hitches with the lighting, and the stage hands frequently failed to find the right prop. But the actors were nearly all word perfect. Diamond did forget her lines once, and had trouble saying ‘Mas’r Davy’, but she looked so sweet skipping about the stage it didn’t really matter.

  I stopped being Hetty altogether. I was little Davy Copperfield and I’d fallen in love with Peggotty’s enchanting little niece. Peggotty was no longer Harry, the funny friend I saw slopping about in his yellow silk dressing gown every morning, a little the worse for wear after the evening’s carousing. He was my dear nurse, who mattered as much to me as my mama.

  At the end of the performance Mr Parkinson gave us copious notes, but all the actors still seemed anxious. They all thought like Harry: if a bad dress rehearsal meant a brilliant first night, a good one must surely mean the exact opposite.

  ‘But isn’t that just a silly old superstition?’ I said.

  I was trying to be comforting, but they all turned on me.

  ‘What do you know, you ignorant little girl?’

  ‘You’ve only been in the company two minutes and yet you think you know it all!’

  ‘You’re right out of order!’

  Even Miss Royal shook her head at me. ‘When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, Emerald, you’ll learn when it’s better to hold your tongue,’ she said sharply.

  I was so shocked I felt tears prickling my eyes.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t be a cry-baby,’ she snapped, and turned her back on me.

  ‘How do you hold your tongue, Hetty?’ Diamond asked me in a muffled voice on the way home. She was trying to grasp her slippery pink tongue and talk at the same time, so she wasn’t having much success.

  ‘It’s just a figure of speech,’ I said, in a little voice. ‘I hate it that I upset them all.’

  ‘Cheer up, chickie,’ said Harry. He was smoking a large cigar, and we had to take care to avoid its fumes and ash. ‘An actor can’t help being superstitious. It’s the nature of the beast. It might seem silly to you – indeed, it is silly – but it’s unwise to point this out so vehemently! Especially if it does all go wrong on Monday night. They’ll say you jinxed it.’

  ‘That wouldn’t be fair!’ said Diamond loyally.

  ‘They’ll want to pick on Hetty anyway, because she’s so good at acting,’ said Harry, puffing away.

  ‘I’m good?’ I said. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I know so. And you do too. That’s why the others are all on edge, especially Marina.’

  ‘I thought she liked me.’

  ‘She does, a great deal. But she’s also an ageing actress, long past her prime. It’s very hard for her to see someone new and fresh and talented. She never had any cause to be jealous of poor sappy Stella, but you’re the genui
ne article, Hetty Feather, and you’re getting everyone wound up,’ said Harry. He inhaled deeply to make his point and then had a coughing fit. It became so violent, he had to bend over while Diamond and I patted him on the back.

  ‘I don’t think that cigar agrees with you, Harry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t even know you liked to smoke.’

  ‘I can’t smoke in the house. Miss Grundy doesn’t care for the smell,’ wheezed Harry. ‘I only smoke in the street. One of my little superstitions is to enjoy a fine Havana cigar after a good first night. And as it looks as if the performance is doomed, I thought I should enjoy it now instead.’

  ‘Seriously?’ I said, stricken.

  ‘No, no, dear, I’m just pulling your leg.’

  ‘You’re not to pull Hetty’s leg, you’ll hurt her!’ said Diamond.

  ‘Shall we pull yours instead, little Diamond?’ said Harry, handing me his cigar. He seized hold of her, swinging her round one-handed and tugging at her stripy socks with the other, while she squealed and struggled.

  I peered at his cigar and tried one little puff. Then I was the one bent over, coughing and gasping, tears streaming down my face. I already knew that I never wanted to drink alcohol again. Now I added tobacco to my list of forbidden substances, fine Havana cigars in particular.

  I had never thought I was superstitious myself, but now I began to fear that the opening night would be truly dreadful – and that somehow it might be my fault. I lay awake on Sunday night, manically chanting my way through my part, but the words faded from my head, just as they had done before when I played Alice. This was worse. Whole paragraphs disappeared entirely. I couldn’t even remember my opening lines. I saw myself on stage, sweating under the spotlight, my mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a goldfish until the audience started booing.

  I sat up in bed, clutching my chest. My heart was thudding so hard I feared it would burst through my skin. Diamond was fast asleep, thank goodness, as was Mavis in Lily’s cat basket, but Madame Adeline stirred.

  ‘What is it, Hetty?’ she whispered.

  I crept over to her, shaking. ‘I can’t do it!’ I whispered. ‘I can’t remember my words! I shall go on stage and die! I’ve jinxed myself, and now I can’t act at all.’