Abandoned Child

by Neale, Kitty

  ‘You can say that again,’ sighed Mark. ‘There’s no chance of my family helping me out. There’s not much chance of them even talking to me, or at least not until I find a nice girl to bring home to them. And that’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Let me take your plates,’ offered Penny, reaching across to start stacking them. It was strange. Here were her friends, all with parents still alive, and yet they all had unhappy families in their own way. She wondered what life would have been like if her father had lived, if her mother would have been more loving and less obsessed with money. Or would they have turned against her, like Juliet’s seemed to have done? Penny had always thought that life would have been easier with a different mother, but maybe it wasn’t that simple.

  ‘Snap out of it, Penny!’ called Mark, and she realised she’d been staring at the plates. ‘You sit back and relax now, I’ll put the coffee on, I know where everything is. You’ve done us proud.’

  ‘Yes, you come over here,’ said Juliet, patting the worn old sofa. ‘If you’re not interested in dating the men, thank God, what do you want to do? What’s the new year going to bring?’

  ‘I’m going to be dancing on stage from January,’ said Penny, with a mixture of excitement and relief. ‘Maureen says I’m good enough now and Mr Prescott has agreed. So I’ll need that black and silver top, Mark, and those Liza Minnelli shorts. I can’t wait.’

  ‘You’re going to look wonderful,’ said Mark, reaching for the mugs. ‘I wonder what routine they’ll put you in. I bet they have you opposite Juliet here, as you’re the two tallest. I can see it now. I’m going to design you a fabulous pair of outfits. It’ll be my job over Christmas – I can’t think of anything better to do while everyone else is stuffing their face with turkey.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Maureen found the flat quiet after Penny left for a few days to go to Margate for Christmas. She’d been asked to go as well but family Christmases had never been her thing, even when her family had been speaking to her.

  Stuart, Maureen’s new admirer, had apologised for not inviting her to spend the day with him, saying he had unavoidable commitments, from which she assumed he was married. She didn’t care. She didn’t want a husband and she didn’t want to sit down at a big table laden with food she didn’t particularly like. Instead, Mark was coming round and they were going to treat themselves to a big Indian takeaway. She knew Penny would be cross that as soon as her back was turned the takeaways had started again, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

  Penny didn’t know about the conversation Maureen had had with Mr Prescott either, when he’d called her into his office before the club shut down for a couple of days.

  ‘So you’re bringing in that niece of yours,’ he’d said. ‘Are you sure she’s ready?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Dave, do you think I’d let her on stage if she wasn’t?’ she’d snapped back. ‘This is my reputation at stake as well as yours, you know. She’s a natural talent and now she’s been trained she’s as good as any of them.’

  ‘Bit thin,’ he observed. ‘She’ll have to stay in the chorus line, no one’ll pay to see her out front.’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ she’d said, biting back her irritation. Dave Prescott had always had a foul temper but she used to be able to cheer him up. It was years since they’d had their brief affair but she’d remained one of his favourites and had assumed he still trusted her judgement. Now it seemed she was out of favour.

  ‘Bit young as well,’ he’d continued. ‘Is she going to stay the course? Not going to go running after the clients and bringing us into disrepute? I won’t have that, niece or no niece.’

  Maureen looked at him, with his red face and growing paunch, and wondered what she’d ever seen in him. If he carried on like this it would be him not lasting the course. She wondered when he’d last seen daylight.

  ‘She’s not in the slightest bit interested in any of that,’ she assured him. ‘All she wants to do is dance, and she’s bloody good at that.’

  ‘Well, see it stays that way,’ he’d said, pouring himself a double whisky. ‘No one’s indispensable, you know.’

  She was pretty certain it wasn’t his first drink of the day even though it was not yet lunchtime. ‘That’s what you’ve always said, Dave,’ she replied, trying to keep it light. ‘You’ll have a lovely addition to your chorus line and you’ll have made their dance teacher very happy. So it’s win-win.’

  Now Maureen hoped that would be true. She could teach anywhere, of course, and not all her students worked at the Paradise Club, but it was that connection which brought her most business. She didn’t like the veiled threat behind the whisky-fuelled words and wondered what had brought that on. Maybe he’d got wind of what Michelle had been up to, silly little cow. She’d have to keep an eye on her – but that was easier said than done.

  Still, Maureen thought as the doorbell rang, not a lot she could do about it now. She ran down the stairs to let Mark in with his bags of steaming takeaway, and sighed in anticipation.

  Penny had been oddly apprehensive about going back to Margate, wondering if it would feel even stuffier after all her new experiences in Soho, but she needn’t have worried. Lorna and Robert had pulled out all the stops for Christmas, putting up the biggest tree she could ever remember, and surrounding it with presents ready for the big day itself. Penny had made up her mind to contribute as well, not just sit around to be waited on as she had when she’d come back from school. Now she arrived laden with goodies from the market and the Italian deli, which Lorna had exclaimed over.

  ‘These look wonderful!’ she’d breathed. ‘I remember these little almond biscuits – you can soak them in alcohol and have them with cream.’

  ‘Did we have them in Spain?’ Penny asked, not sure if she’d tasted them before. The young man behind the counter had assured her this was the right thing to buy for the festivities but she hadn’t sampled them in the store, which had been packed with everyone doing last-minute shopping.

  ‘No, but we did have all kinds of other things with almonds,’ Lorna replied. ‘Clever of you to think of that. You’ve really taken to this cooking business, haven’t you?’

  ‘I love it,’ Penny admitted. ‘You can’t imagine, it’s like being surrounded by every sort of food that exists. It’d be criminal not to try everything.’

  ‘Well, if you ever want to make a career of it, you have only to say,’ beamed Robert, coming through the door with a big bag of wood for the fire. ‘And meanwhile you can practise on us as much as you like.’

  So that’s what she’d done, and she could tell Lorna was delighted by how much she’d improved her skills in the kitchen. She didn’t feel inclined to throw away her dream of being a dancer but she couldn’t deny their support had boosted her confidence in cooking enormously. Still, she couldn’t wait to get back to London. I’ll have to do more classes to dance off these extra pounds, she thought grimly as the train made its chilly way back to Victoria.

  Penny’s first evening on stage went by in a blur. She’d been so nervous that she could hardly remember the first part of the night, and then when the time came to take her place before the curtain went up, everything went so fast that she didn’t have time to think of anything. But her body seemed to move of its own accord when the music began, going through the well-rehearsed routines, and she knew she’d done all right when Maureen stepped out to greet her as they filed into the wings.

  ‘You’ll do,’ she’d said. ‘Carry on like that and you’ll be a star.’

  Now she sat on Mark’s worktable, gulping from a bottle of water, wrapped in an old sweatshirt. She felt far from glamorous but was as happy as she could ever remember. She’d done it, she’d appeared on stage. So there, Mum, Penny thought, I’m a real dancer, not a common stripper like you were, and a liar on top of it all. I’m the real thing.

  ‘Well done, you survived,’ said Mark. ‘I watched you from the bar and you were fine. Did you see me?�
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  ‘Couldn’t see anything except the spotlights,’ she confessed. ‘I tried to look up and make eye contact but I had to imagine where the audience were sitting, as you can’t make anything out.’

  ‘You did that all right,’ Mark told her. ‘I wouldn’t have guessed. You’ve got that knack of making everyone feel you’ve noticed them specially and are dancing just for them. That’s a real art. Keep it up.’

  Michelle came over, beaming. ‘Congratulations, that was really good. Bet you feel better now, don’t you? Trust me, first time is the worst and you’ll never feel that shaky again.’

  ‘How did you know I felt shaky?’ Penny wanted to know.

  ‘Everyone does,’ said Michelle. ‘Stands to reason. It didn’t show though, and tomorrow you’ll be even better.’

  ‘Fancy coming out to celebrate?’ asked Mark.

  ‘I’d love to,’ said Michelle, ‘but Rudolfo’s back from Italy and he’s taking me to the Gay Hussar. He wants to make up for being away.’

  ‘Back home to his wife, was he?’ sniped Mark.

  ‘Don’t be so sour, it doesn’t suit you,’ said Michelle, not in the least upset. ‘He’s here now, isn’t he? A bird in the hand and all that. Have fun.’ And she sashayed off.

  ‘Bar Italia, then?’ said Mark. ‘Not quite the Gay Hussar but I’ll treat you to a coffee.’

  ‘I’d like that much better anyway,’ said Penny loyally, although she couldn’t help thinking that one of these days she might like to try one of the famous restaurants they passed so often.

  Juliet had returned from a brief break with her family but didn’t want to talk about it. ‘I’m going to see them as little as possible,’ she told Penny as they stood in the theatre bar after they’d finished their performance one night. ‘They simply don’t understand I’m serious about dancing. Let’s not let that get in our way though. What are you drinking?’

  ‘Water,’ said Penny. ‘They won’t serve me because they know my age. Anyway I don’t care. You get something, I’ll stay here.’

  ‘In that case, I will,’ said Juliet in relief. ‘I tell you, I need something. That last row before I left was too much. I deserve a little something.’

  As her friend waved to her favourite barman, Penny was aware of a group of dark-haired men around a tall table, drinking spirits. One was particularly good-looking and seemed to be watching her. As she caught his eye he raised his glass and gave a small smile.

  She smiled back but then turned as Juliet returned, large glass of wine in hand. ‘Let’s go backstage,’ she suggested. ‘I need one of my seams fixed before tomorrow’s show.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Penny, taking her water from the table she’d been leaning against, ‘but you know Mark hates doing basic mending. He’ll only tell you to do it yourself.’

  ‘You can’t blame me for trying,’ said Juliet. ‘He does it so much better than me. Let’s see how busy he is.’

  As they made to walk away, Penny noticed that the dark-haired man was still watching her.

  ‘Michelle, can I have a word?’ asked Maureen, catching the younger woman as she was putting on her coat.

  ‘Yeah, of course,’ said Michelle, ‘but I can’t stay long.’

  ‘It won’t take long,’ Maureen assured her. ‘Keeping someone waiting, are we?’

  ‘What if we are?’ demanded Michelle. ‘It’s not a crime.’

  Maureen sighed. This had started badly already. ‘No, I know it isn’t strictly a crime,’ she said carefully, ‘but the someone we’re keeping waiting is a punter, isn’t he? And you know Prescott don’t like that.’

  ‘Well he can lump it then,’ said Michelle heatedly. ‘I’m over age and free to do as I please. It’s not as if I’m the only one doing it. You know damn well loads of the girls do it. How else are we meant to meet anyone, working nights like we do? So of course we do it.’

  ‘That might well be,’ said Maureen, determined not to lose her temper, but irritated with the girl’s stubbornness. ‘But you’re the most obvious one. You make no attempt to hide it, you’re out there cavorting at the stage door nine nights out of ten. Prescott might well turn a blind eye now and again but this is right in his face. He can’t ignore it.’

  ‘Filthy old sod he is, then,’ blazed Michelle. ‘And why should I hide it? How come you’re telling me this anyway? Don’t tell me you never done it. Hey, weren’t you and Prescott an item once? Getting you to do his dirty work for him now, is he?’

  ‘Listen to me, you stupid mare,’ hissed Maureen. ‘Don’t you insult me, I’ve outlasted more chorus girls than you’ve had hot dinners, whether you paid for them yourself or not. If you bring the club into disrepute, then everyone’s affected. You, me, all the dancers, all the backstage lot. So think whose jobs you’re putting at risk. Is it worth it? Promised you the earth, has he?’

  ‘None of your business what he’s promised me,’ shouted Michelle, fastening her coat and turning up the collar. ‘I’m not standing around here for all this. I’ve got better things to do. At least I’m young enough to have fun.’ She spun around and almost crashed into Penny and Juliet, spilling some of her wine as she did so.

  ‘Hey, watch it, Michelle,’ protested Juliet. ‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’

  ‘Did you put her up to this?’ Michelle yelled at Penny. ‘Because you can piss off if you did. You all can.’ She pushed her way past a rail full of costumes and was gone.

  ‘Bleedin’ hell,’ said Maureen, shaking her head. ‘Sorry you had to see that, girls. It’s not your fault. Our Michelle has ruffled a few feathers high up and by the looks of it she’s going to ruffle some more. I just hope we don’t all take the rap for her. But I’m sure it won’t come to that.’

  She tried to put on a brave face, but she was seriously worried. Michelle was right, of course – lots of the dancers did see punters outside the club, and it wasn’t always easy for them to meet anyone else because of the long hours. God knows, Maureen was aware of that better than anyone. But to do so blatantly, flying in the face of a direct warning, was asking for trouble. And Dave was on the case, for whatever reason. She’d heard rumours of a rival club starting up on the other side of Soho Square, so maybe that was it. But whether that was it or not, Dave on the warpath was not something to be encouraged, as he wouldn’t care who got in his way. And that meant any, or all of them.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A couple of nights later, Penny was in the bar once more with Juliet, one drinking water and one drinking wine. ‘I’m still not sure about these shorts,’ muttered Juliet. ‘It was kind of Mark to sew them up but do you think he could have done it too loosely on purpose, to make me do it myself next time?’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t do that,’ Penny replied. She knew by now Mark was far too good-hearted to do such a sneaky thing. She looked critically at her friend. ‘Do you think you’ve just lost a bit of weight? Have you had them long?’

  ‘Not very likely over Christmas and New Year, is it?’ Juliet asked. ‘Suppose it’s possible. I’ve had them for a few months. I really hope I haven’t lost much – no disrespect, but we can’t have too many thin dancers.’

  ‘No, you don’t want to reduce your assets, as Michelle would say,’ grinned Penny, then she pulled a face. ‘Or maybe she wouldn’t say. She’s hardly talking to me, as she thinks I grassed her up to Maureen – when anyone can see what she’s up to. And she’s getting worse. She sat on Rudolfo’s lap right here in the bar yesterday, in front of everybody. It’s as if she wants to be sacked.’

  ‘I hope she doesn’t imagine that if she’s sacked he’s going to step in and make an honest woman of her,’ groaned Juliet, draining her glass. ‘Right, if I’m to put some weight on, I’ll have another glass of this.’ She disappeared to the bar.

  Penny felt slightly worried by her friend. Juliet was always the sensible one, never shy of speaking her mind; always in control, always knowing what to do, and Penny had come to rely on her steady advice and years of experien
ce in the business, but something wasn’t right. She didn’t usually have more than one glass if she had to go to a morning class the next day, for a start. And yet here she was, ordering another large one, taking a big sip, chatting to the barman and getting topped up.

  ‘Hello, you’re one of the dancers, aren’t you?’ said a voice at her side. Turning, she realised it was the dark-haired man. ‘And so is your friend.’

  Just talking to him couldn’t hurt, Penny reasoned. ‘Yes, that’s right. Did you see all of the show?’

  ‘We didn’t get here in time for the beginning,’ he said apologetically, nodding towards the group of men he’d been with before. ‘Did we miss much?’

  ‘Only Fifi and her singing, which you either like or you don’t.’ She couldn’t quite place his accent. ‘You aren’t from London, are you?’

  ‘No,’ the man laughed. ‘No, we definitely aren’t from London. We are from very far away. Mexico, in fact.’

  ‘Really?’ Penny said, about to mention that she spoke Spanish, but then she noticed Juliet coming towards them, with a face like thunder. The man noticed as well.

  ‘Don’t let me interrupt your conversation with your friend,’ he said. ‘Nice to meet you.’ And he was gone.

  ‘What was that about?’ Juliet demanded, gripping her wine glass so hard her knuckles turned white. ‘What does he want, chatting you up like that?’

  ‘He only wanted to say hello,’ Penny protested, annoyed now. It wasn’t as if they’d even exchanged names.

  ‘That’s how they all start,’ said Juliet grimly. ‘Not you as well, Penny. Haven’t we got enough trouble with Michelle and her carryings-on?’

  ‘Actually, he was very polite,’ she said. ‘He didn’t want anything, he didn’t ask me anything much. There were no carryings-on. I thought he was nice.’

  ‘Nice?’ echoed Juliet. ‘Nice? Have you noticed the one thing about the punters in here? Very, very few of them are nice. God, the sooner I get out and into proper theatre the better.’