The Hidden Dance

by Susan Wooldridge

  As they stepped into the captain’s office, Lily saw the room was unexpectedly full of people. She glanced from one to the other and then her eyes locked on the one sight she feared above all others. In the middle of the room, swathed in vicious pink, sat Lavinia Slocombe. Swung round in her chair to observe their arrival, the woman was smiling at them, a most terrible smile.

  The shock caused Lily to lose all breath and it was only fear of discovery that kept her conscious, preventing her from swaying to the ground. Far away, she heard Petty Officer Staps announce, ‘Mrs Valley, Captain. And Nickie.’

  Her heart was beating so strongly, she felt an extraordinary, unaccountable surge of energy and was appalled that fear might make her cry out. She frantically tried to make herself concentrate; she was no use to Nickie unless she was calm, focused. But her thoughts scattered and raced. She stared at the tall man, the captain, standing easily to one side of his desk, and tried to re-group her thoughts, tried to grasp at some element of calm. For no reason, she found her eye held by his lopsided shoulders, upon which was a spattering of dandruff. He moved forward and her eyes lifted to his face. He smiled at her and the unexpected warmth nearly made her lose all resolve. She felt her step falter and made herself stand still.

  The captain looked away. ‘Thank you, Mr Staps, you may step outside for the moment.’

  It was in this brief moment, the captain’s attention from her, a tough clarity entered her mind. She made herself think of Nickie, only of Nickie. With so much danger encircling them, she knew she had to do everything she could to protect her helpless child.

  The captain turned back. ‘Please won’t you have a seat.’ He motioned to an empty chair beside Lady Slocombe. As they moved forward into the room, Lady Slocombe turned her gaze away to face the captain, who now resumed his own seat across the desk. There was a look of childish expectancy on Lavinia’s heavily made-up face and Lily saw the captain choose to ignore it. Instead, he looked intently down at a newspaper on the desk in front of him. He seemed to be the only person in the room at any ease.

  Suddenly he looked up at her. She felt herself glance hastily away. She sensed his gaze moving slowly to the little clown pulled close to her side.

  A tense silence held, the only sound the sturdy ticking of a clock. And as she sat there, Lily became aware of the swell of pent-up emotion, the ill-disguised hatred emanating from the woman beside her. She could hear Lavinia breathing heavily and hoarsely through her teeth. Dear God, to have this as my enemy.

  The captain pushed the paper from him and began. ‘Mrs Valley, do you know why we have asked you here this morning?’

  Lavinia exploded, ‘This woman is no more Mrs Valley than I am!’

  ‘Your ladyship, please!’ The captain’s authority rang round the cabin. It was so impressive that Lady Slocombe’s mouth slammed shut.

  There was complete silence.

  Captain Henshaw started again. ‘Now, Mrs Valley?’

  ‘Captain?’ Her voice sounded strained but she held the captain’s eye.

  ‘Before we begin I think it only fair to explain why I have asked you here this morning. I don’t know if you are aware but there have been reports in the newspaper of a missing woman, a Lady Sutton.’ Through the kick of the shock, Lily struggled to hold her face immobile. But her mind was chaos. How did they know, here on the ship, she was missing?

  Slowly, she focused. The captain was holding up the newspaper he had been reading. Under the words Poseidon Post was a headline stating in bold, ‘Aristocrat’s Wife Still Missing’, and beside it a picture of Nickie in his cowboy hat.

  The shock was so great she instinctively pulled the child into her, ducking her head in an attempt not to cry out loud. But to her dismay, the sudden movement caused a gasp, which rapidly turned into the scratchy sound of crying and, looking down, she saw large teary globs making wide pink tracks through the white clown make-up.

  ‘Oh, darling, don’t—’

  ‘I’m afraid I really do have to get to the bottom of this, Mrs Valley.’

  She scrabbled for her handkerchief and tried to mop the tears but the crying wouldn’t stop. And all the while, at her side, she could feel Lavinia Slocombe gazing at the pair of them, the power and stillness of the woman frightening and malevolent. She looked hopelessly back at the Captain.

  He put down the newspaper and lifted a sheet of lists. No, oh no, the passenger lists. Lily braced herself for the blow.

  ‘Our lists say here you are travelling third class, with your husband, Mr John Valley, and your daughter, Miss Nickie Valley. This is Nickie, I take it?’

  Lily closed her eyes and nodded.

  The captain’s eyes travelled once more down his lists. ‘And you are ten years old, I see. Yes?’

  With the question, Lily heard the crying quieten. ‘I’m afraid she’s very shy, Captain,’ she said quickly.

  But the captain was insistent. ‘Please, Nickie, can you tell me how old you are?’

  There was a silence.

  The little clown raised its face, all streaky and blotchy. Looking first at Lily and then at the big man behind the desk, Anthea said, ‘I’m ten.’

  ‘You see how shy she is,’ said Lily hastily. She snuggled the little girl into her arms and Anthea’s thumb disappeared into her mouth. The crying had stopped.

  ‘Well, Lady Slocombe?’

  But before her ladyship could say anything, the cry of a small trapped animal issued from the thin woman standing at Lady Slocombe’s side. All stared as this tiny mewing changed pitch to that of a faintly whistling kettle, and the colour leaked from the woman’s pinched face as her eyes held Lily’s in a violent stare.

  ‘Be quiet, Timms!’ Such was the force of Lady Slocombe’s command that the thin woman fell back and was only just caught by the quick-thinking Mr Hodder.

  ‘May I ask everyone in this room for the moment to say and do absolutely nothing.’ The authority in the captain’s voice brought all to attention. ‘Mr Hodder, find the lady a chair.’ He turned towards the moaning woman. ‘Madam, are you in need of medical assistance?’ The woman sat with an indecorous bump, a further whimper emitting from her. She weakly shook her head.

  The captain watched for a moment, then, satisfied that another ‘turn’ was not about to occur, said, ‘I hope this satisfies you, Lady Slocombe. This little girl is quite obviously not the little boy in the newspaper photograph—’

  ‘Lily Sutton, don’t you dare play games with me!’ Lavinia’s voice was coarse and snarling, the intent electric. Anthea burst into new and terrified tears.

  ‘Lady Slocombe, I really must ask you—’ the captain started.

  But Lavinia Slocombe was on her feet, pointing at Lily. ‘This woman is Lady Sutton! Her husband is Sir Charles Sutton, for God’s sake! This is not her child—’

  She lunged forward, greedily snatching at the little girl, ripping her away from Lily’s arms. The captain was out of his chair but not before Lavinia’s fingers had dug into Anthea, and as he pulled the child away, the long nails tore through the thin clown-suit and a livid scratch rose up on the pudgy little arm.

  Lily was upon the woman, hauling at the pink coat. At the same moment, First Officer Hodder leapt forward and interposed himself between the two women.

  ‘For God’s sake, your ladyship, have you lost your mind!’ Captain Henshaw exploded, carefully cradling the child away from danger. Everyone held their ground, the shock of the violence paralysing them all. Very gently, the captain handed Anthea back into Lily’s arms; the child’s fear was trembling out of her in wrenching sobs.

  Lily rocked her, the scratch puffing up, red and raw, through the freckles. ‘Hush, hush now, I’ll kiss it better.’ She carried Anthea to the corner of the room, far from Lavinia.

  Lavinia Slocombe reluctantly resumed her chair.

  ‘Now, Lady Slocombe, please be so good as to explain what you mean by “Not her child”.’

  As the woman went to open her mouth there came a loud insiste
nt knocking on the captain’s door. He chose to ignore it. ‘Lady Slocombe?’

  Lily felt ice-fear spill through her. Anthea started to whimper.

  ‘This child does not belong to this woman, Captain,’ Lady Slocombe spat out the charge in a heavy untidy voice. ‘She is Lady Sutton and—’

  Again there was a loud knocking.

  But the captain appeared not to hear; he was intent on an answer. ‘Lady Slocombe, do you have any reason to believe that this woman may have abducted this child?’ He gestured briefly towards the little girl, his voice sharp; he would take no further nonsense.

  ‘Not this child, Captain!’ snapped the woman. ‘Nicholas. Nicholas Sutton, the boy in the newspaper.’ Lily felt the little girl start to shiver violently in her arms.

  For a third time the knocking came again. Lady Slocombe let out a wail of irritation at the noise, her prey so nearly trapped.

  Equally irritated, the captain submitted to the knocking and called out sharply, ‘Come.’

  Petty Officer Staps entered.

  ‘What is it, Mr Staps?’ The captain’s eye never left Lady Slocombe.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but Mr Bottle insists on seeing you at once.’

  ‘Good heavens, man, can’t you see I’m busy?’ the captain snapped in fury.

  But young Staps persevered. ‘Says he has some very important information, relevant to the present inquiry, Captain.’

  Such was the urgency in the young man’s voice, the Captain looked at him fully. ‘Does he indeed? Well, to be honest, I would welcome the distraction.’ He cast a disgusted look around the room. ‘Show him in.’

  As Staps disappeared, he commanded, ‘Ladies, if there is any further disturbance, I shall be forced to take extreme measures.’ He addressed the remark solely to Lady Slocombe.

  ‘Hang on, darling,’ Lily whispered to Anthea. The little girl’s shivering had ceased; she had gone strangely still.

  Billy Bottle entered, saluted. He stood heaving breaths.

  ‘Been in a race, Mr Bottle?’

  ‘Sorry, Cap’n,’ the lad gasped, his face, bright red. ‘Had to run to get here – something to show you, Cap’n. Thought it might be useful to the present inquiry.’

  ‘Continue,’ nodded the captain curtly.

  ‘This, sir.’ From behind his back, Billy brought forth the dented OXO tin and, opening it, took out the diamond bracelet and placed it on the blotter.

  With a screech, Miss Timms started forward, making to snatch at the bracelet and crying at the same time, ‘She made me do it! She made me do it!’ She was pointing wildly at her mistress.

  ‘Keep your mouth shut, Timms!’ Lady Slocombe snarled at her maid.

  Surprisingly, the woman hushed immediately. Everything went unnaturally quiet.

  Captain Henshaw rose from his desk. Out of the silence, he said in a careful even voice, ‘I am warning you all, I am not prepared to put up with any more of this hysterical behaviour.’

  He stood, waited. His authority held; no one moved.

  ‘First things first. Let us deal with the matter at hand. Lady Slocombe.’ He turned. The big woman had sunk back down into her chair. ‘Once and for all, will you tell me why you think this woman is implicated in the abduction of this child?’

  Lily held her breath. She made herself look into her mortal enemy’s face. The hatred she found there was palpable and she clung to Anthea with every ounce of love she had, as if for her own child. She held the look and waited for the woman to speak out against her. But as she watched, she saw the fury in Lavinia’s look wither and slip away, the terrible gaze dying. Lavinia no longer appeared to fill the vast shocking-pink costume but sat, diminished, as she stared with a resigned and aged air at the diamond bracelet in the middle of the captain’s desk. With a slight swagger, she raised her head, and Lily realised the face had lost its adder-puff of fury and looked folded and withered, the smudged purple lipstick lifting the mouth into an absurdly childish grin. Staring into the middle distance, the woman baldly stated, ‘Now I meet her face to face, I realise I do not know this woman. Nor her daughter.’

  This pronouncement over, she ducked back down into a large handbag and started rummaging amongst the contents, eventually withdrawing a compact. Very slowly and with great concentration, she started to re-gild her mouth, all the while keeping her face averted from the company.

  Lily watched amazed, the relief not to be trusted.

  The captain nodded. ‘Very well.’ He turned to Lily. ‘Mrs Valley, I think we should let you and your little girl get back to the fancy-dress party.’

  He walked around the desk to join them and, dropping to Anthea’s level, smiled into the blotchy face. ‘It’s a very splendid outfit.’

  Anthea leant towards him and whispered, ‘We won a yo-yo.’

  ‘Good for you.’ He straightened up. ‘Mr Staps, please be so good as to take Mrs Valley and Nickie back below.’ Stepping forward, he held the door and, with the smallest of bows, said, ‘I am so sorry to have disturbed your morning, Mrs Valley.’

  Lily gave a nod and, with her arm around the little girl’s shoulders, she quickly left the captain’s quarters.

  Chapter Sixteen

  SS Etoile. Saturday afternoon

  Mrs Webb was extremely partial to a bit of brawn. She sat in her cabin with a tray on her knees tucking into a plateful.

  At her feet, Nickie and Anthea played silently and with great concentration. The little girl, tears all gone, the long scratch on her arm a badge of honour marking her bravery that morning, was strangely fascinated by the game Nickie was teaching her. And the little boy, happy at last to have a pal to play with, even a girl, was fully prepared to share some of the secrets on how to win card-cricket. Mrs Webb nodded approvingly – oh, the peace.

  She closed her eyes. What a terrible, terrible morning. For the moment, food forgotten, she mulled over the events of the last few hours. Mind, she’d even impressed herself in gulling that steward. But then the long awful wait for Mrs Valley to come back from the captain, Mr Valley all silent and jumpy, neither of them knowing if Billy Bottle had reached the captain in time. And she’d only had to take one look at the poor woman’s face when she’d come at last to know something was very wrong.

  ‘Mrs Webb, please have the children for a little while, I must talk to my husband alone.’ With Anthea at her side, white and silent, the woman added, ‘Your little one has been wonderfully brave. But you got a little scratch, didn’t you, darling?’ At this point, emotions so overwhelmed the woman she couldn’t speak.

  ‘Don’t you worry, dear,’ Nellie’d replied. ‘You stay ’ere with Mr Valley and ’ave a rest. You look fair done in.’ She had hurriedly turned to usher the little ones away but Mrs Valley had caught her wrist and said in a frantic whisper, ‘Keep Nickie hidden. All the time.’

  Well, the little ones were safe as pie now, all tucked up in her cabin. She was mad to know what had happened, Anthea’s side of things being a little hazy, but she’d have to wait. The child was upset, she could see that; she didn’t want to push her further. No, she’d just have to bide her time for the full story.

  She stretched and smiled. A bit of jam sponge for ‘afters’, the children playing nicely, Freddie up there with his dogs, and the latest copy of Picturegoer that she’d been saving as a treat. That would keep her going this rainy afternoon and take her mind off everything.

  Lily was in despair. As the cabin door closed behind Mrs Webb and the children, she fell into Johnnie’s arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

  ‘Nickie’s – says Aristocrat’s Wife – front’s a big picture—’ She kept gulping up words. ‘She – spitefully – so horrible – and the danger—’

  Johnnie held her, saying nothing, letting the horror spill out. As best he could, he tried to piece together the story whilst gently rubbing her back. Like a child, she allowed herself to be soothed, the tears slowly stopping.

  But her fear couldn’t be contained. ‘Charles must have
found us. Why else is our story in the newspaper?’

  ‘If Charles had discovered your whereabouts, Lily, he would have wired the ship and the Captain would have known your true identity.’

  ‘Yes, but Lavinia does—’

  ‘The captain – and that’s who’s important in this case – called you Mrs Valley.’

  ‘But Nickie’s picture’s in the paper—’

  ‘Which doesn’t mean anyone knows that you, Lily Sutton, are here on board. Now, tell me exactly what happened. From the beginning.’

  On the blotter in the middle of Captain Henshaw’s desk lay the diamond bracelet. Beside it sat the open OXO tin, inside the lid of which was written in a large clear hand:

  This is the property of Enid Mary Timms, 1911

  23 Manor Lane

  Woolwich

  London SE

  Great Britain

  The Empire

  The World

  The Universe

  Emptied of the bracelet, the OXO tin now appeared to contain a small bottle of green ink, a pen with a couple of detachable nibs, a lock of pale hair bound by a delicate strand of pink thread, a small notebook and two or three stubs of white chalk. Wedged at the bottom was an old envelope marked ‘Private’.

  ‘Does this bracelet belong to you, Lady Slocombe?’ The captain picked up the dainty jewellery from the blotter. He turned it over, on the clasp was engraved ‘LS from CS on our wedding-day, 7th May 1921.’

  ‘Indeed it does, Captain, a wedding present from dear Charteris. Oh, Timms.’ The hefty woman turned to her maid. The thin woman sat still as a statue, staring down at the floor.

  Lady Slocombe turned back to the captain and, in a lowered voice, requested, ‘May I have a brief word with you in private, Captain?’

  With little ceremony, Enid Timms was bundled outside to be guarded by a naval rating. As the door closed, Captain Henshaw looked at his watch; he was determined to keep this tête-à-tête as brief as possible.

  In a voice weary with grief, Lady Slocombe began. ‘I am devastated. I had so hoped this – this thievery had ceased. Timms has always had, shall we say, a weakness for being light-fingered. “Kleptomania”, I believe it is called. I know Sir Charteris will be as appalled as I am.’