Death in the Stars

by Frances Brody

  Billy was a little old to need his hand holding in public. My dealings with highly strung performers are strictly limited. Should I share Selina’s concern, or reassure her?

  ‘Billy’s probably hurried to the front of the queue for tea and toast, or champagne.’ I spotted Miss Dyson, still clutching her autograph book, and waved to her.

  She came over beaming with pride. ‘Wasn’t it wonderful? Daddy is such a lucky man. He’s cock-a-hoop that the clouds parted.’

  ‘Yes, we’re so fortunate. Now, have you seen Billy Moffatt?’

  She shook her head. ‘Some people have gone to the pavilion.’ She glanced at Selina and picked up on the sense of urgency. ‘He’s such a popular person. Someone will have swept him off. Shall I hurry ahead and see if he’s there?’

  I thanked her. ‘Yes, and we’ll catch up.’

  Billy was clad in the uniform of dark mackintosh and trilby hat. Selina called Billy’s name and a similarly clad man of the same height turned. He was not Billy. When the man turned to look at Selina he appeared singularly disappointed that he was not Billy.

  ‘I’m making a fool of myself.’ She strode on, looking at her feet. ‘He’s just thoughtless. He’s so thoughtless.’

  It had become obvious during the hours in his company that Billy’s old war wounds caused him pain. Usually, he hid the fact well. On stage, he performed odd little stretching and twisting contortions. Off stage he sometimes disappeared for ten minutes and reappeared looking better. I had seen him sniffing cocaine on the terrace the night before. It was likely that while Selina was fretting, he was relaxing in some hidden corner, but I did not say that. ‘He knows we’ll be returning from here, and that Charlie and Joe will be back for us.’

  By the time we neared the cricket pavilion, Miss Dyson was already waiting. ‘I’ve looked and he’s not here. Mrs Douglas is enquiring of the servers whether he was first in for a cuppa and has left.’ She smiled. ‘Everyone knows his face, and his jokes. Even people who don’t go to the shows hear them from those who do.’

  A distant sound made me look up. The aeroplane was returning. The OTC boys heard it too. They formed a line around the cricket pitch. A master raised a megaphone and called for the pitch to be cleared. We stepped onto the porch of the pavilion to be out of the way.

  Selina relaxed a little. ‘He’ll hear the plane. He’ll be back.’

  Mrs Douglas came from the pavilion and joined us. She shouted to make herself heard above the sound of the plane landing. ‘Young Miss Dyson will track down Mr Moffatt. You and the airmen must come to the dining hall. We have a private room ready for your refreshments. There’ll be a bit of a crush for the scones in the main hall.’ She watched with a satisfied smile as the boys stood to attention around the pitch to keep the landing space clear. ‘This is very good training for the lads. They are loving every minute.’

  The plane slowly descended and bumped its way across the pitch. The school gardener and cricketers wouldn’t be pleased at the indentations made by the wheels.

  Mrs Douglas touched my arm gently. ‘Shall we set off? The airmen can follow. I know you need to take off again soon.’ When Selina didn’t move, she added, ‘Please, come this way. We have the gardener’s little buggy to transport you. It’s such a clever piece of motoring engineering.’ She turned to Miss Dyson. ‘Will you direct the airmen, my dear?’

  ‘Yes of course. I wanted their autographs anyway.’

  Lamblike, Selina and I were herded from the pavilion porch, edging our way around the pitch, heading for the opening that led to the lane. ‘That’s where he’ll be,’ Selina said quietly. ‘He’ll have changed his mind and decided to look around the school. He went to a ragged school himself and he’s always keen to see how the other half lives.’

  Mrs Douglas had sharp hearing. ‘I haven’t seen your friend perform but I know he has a reputation as a cheeky chappie. I expect he’ll be observing us all and stealing our little mannerisms for his next comic monologue, so that the world can laugh at how ridiculous we all are.’

  In the lane, an ancient man with a crinkled parchment face was seated on a metal contraption with a single bicycle seat for the driver and a plank for passengers behind. The three of us dutifully squeezed on and were bone-shaken along the winding lane. Several buildings came into view. Mrs Douglas pointed out dormitories and classrooms until the vehicle came to a stop outside the largest of the buildings.

  ‘Thank you, Perkins. Now be a good chap and go back for the airmen.’ Mrs Douglas alighted and led us into part of the school that she called the Hostel, along a plain corridor with none of the usual awards, memorials or pictures of famous old boys.

  We walked through the busy dining hall.

  Though most people were too discreet to stare, a few heads turned to look at the star: Selina Fellini, Silver Songbird, everyone’s darling. Aware of surreptitious glances and a few bold stares from small boys, Selina returned smiles and scanned the room for Billy. So did I, but to no avail.

  We found ourselves in a small private room where a table was set with a white cloth, the best china tea service and tiered plates of sandwiches and scones.

  Mrs Douglas poured tea and asked us to be sure to help ourselves. As if only just remembering who and where she was, Selina gave a professional smile. ‘Thank you. So kind.’

  ‘My husband would join you, Mrs Compton, but he has several matters to attend to.’

  When she had gone, Selina said, ‘Why does she think I want to see the headmaster? She’s using my married name to remind me that my husband is an old boy and should have come with me.’

  ‘It’s kind of her to give us a private room.’

  Selina glanced at me and then lowered her head like some unhappy child.

  ‘Selina, what is it? What is it you’re not telling me? I’ve had the feeling from the start that there was more to this than my being the right person to book an aeroplane for you. Half a dozen people could have done that.’

  She bit into a scone and finished chewing before she answered.

  ‘This will sound ridiculous. When there’s a new moon, or some change, or the planets… I don’t know how to say this. That’s why I wanted you by me. I confided in Giuseppe Barnardini, you see. We shared the same singing teacher aeons ago.’

  She did not finish. At that moment, Charlie burst in. ‘Giggs has changed a bit since I was a boy. We didn’t have a gardener on a homemade tractor in those days.’

  I poured him a cup of tea. ‘Did you have a successful flight?’

  ‘You’d have to ask the reporter and the photographer. I believe they were happy enough and sufficiently impressed, though I must say it was like Piccadilly Circus up there. Sightseers at ten guineas a go, newspapers competing for pictures, and an official flight on behalf of the Astronomer Royal in an Imperial Airways fourteen-seater, a coup for the Daily Mail.’ Charlie picked up a sandwich. ‘How about you, Miss Fellini? Has it been worth the jaunt?’

  Selina paused. ‘It was amazing, to witness the eclipse and to dance a fandango with handsome chaps from Greenwich. Billy turned green with envy and disappeared. The OTC boys are searching him out now.’

  ‘So I heard. Joe is with them. Someone gave him a bottle of beer but being an old boy I daren’t refuse the headmaster’s wife when she ordered me here to take tea. You’re not worried, are you?’

  Selina shook her head. ‘Absolutely not. I expect he’s eloped with one of the beauties who were sitting astride the wall. By the time they get to Settle, he’ll remember he has a performance tonight and he’ll turn back.’

  ‘Well for what it’s worth, Joe thinks Billy turned green at the gills during the flight. He reckons our funny man isn’t cut out for flying. I don’t suppose he would set off for a train without telling you?’

  ‘No he wouldn’t.’

  Sensing something wrong, Charlie spoke with a confidence none of us felt. ‘Don’t worry. We won’t rush off without him. The official picture hasn’t been developed yet. Once the E
vening News photographer has his copy of that, we’ll have to be airborne. Perhaps that’s what Billy is waiting for so he can go home by train without losing face.’ He picked up another sandwich. ‘Have you heard that Giggs is being acclaimed as the place in the country for viewing the eclipse? It came over the wireless.’

  Selina made some reply and Charlie launched into an explanation of flying across the line of totality, above the clouds where there was a perfect view. Selina appeared to be listening but she was looking beyond Charlie to the door, waiting for news, dreading it too. With thousands of people on the move, it was no mystery that Billy might have been caught up in chatting to some of them, or taking a look around. For the first time, I wondered whether Selina’s fears indicated some kind of distress or exhaustion. If so, she did not need me. She needed a doctor, and bedrest.

  The door to our small room opened. Alex the head boy stepped into view, frowning. He was without his greatcoat. ‘Miss Fellini, Mrs Shackleton, we’ve found Mr Moffatt. He has been taken into the chapel. The doctor is sent for.’

  Charlie put down his cup. ‘Wait here. I’ll go see what’s happened.’

  But Selina and I were already on our feet.

  Six

  The Scent of Cedar Wood

  With few words, except to say Billy was not himself, Alex led Selina, Charlie and me back to the chapel. In the short time since the eclipse, the sky had lightened.

  As the building that dominates hill and dale loomed into view, I felt a sense of foreboding that quickened my breath. Coming closer, I saw that although the green dome suggested Eastern splendour, the chapel was as local as could be, made of millstone grit, sandstone and limestone.

  Selina had turned deathly pale. Charlie took her arm. ‘You don’t need to come in.’

  ‘Yes I do.’

  Alex tapped on the chapel door. It was unlocked from the other side. Another OTC lad held the door open until we stepped in and then locked it again.

  ‘Mrs Douglas didn’t want people barging in until the doctor comes,’ Alex explained.

  We stepped inside and straightaway the sweetest scent created a feeling of calm. I looked about, half expecting some priestly figure to be swinging a censer, flooding the place with heady incense. I looked at Charlie. ‘What is that?’

  He touched a bench. ‘Cedar wood.’ He spoke in a whisper. ‘We all loved the chapel.’

  I glanced about. Not seeing Billy or Mrs Douglas, I turned to see if they were at the back of the chapel. A beautiful stained-glass window showed the Creation, with the Heavens, Adam and Eve, beasts and fish and shells. A Creation window designed to delight little boys. But no Billy.

  Selina came out of her dream. ‘Where is he? He’s not here. Has the doctor been?’

  ‘This way, Miss Fellini.’ Alex walked across the marbled floor, Selina behind him.

  Charlie and I followed. Being here seemed unreal. Bathed in the scent of cedar wood, and in such a sanctified atmosphere nothing bad could, would or should happen. We caught up. Charlie stepped forward and put his arm around Selina. She had started to shake.

  That was when Mrs Douglas appeared from the far side of the chapel. We walked across. She tried to block our way. ‘I’ve made the patient comfortable. He’s here, by the organ.’

  Billy was lying on a too-narrow bench, still and pale, an OTC greatcoat under him and another covering him. That explained why Alex had worn no coat. Mrs Douglas tried to keep us at a distance. ‘He mustn’t be moved again until the doctor comes. There are no bones broken but one can’t be sure. I’ve tried to bring him back into consciousness.’

  Selina pushed past Mrs Douglas. She knelt beside Billy and took his hand. ‘Billy, Billy. Idiot! What did you do? Where did you go?’ She turned to us. ‘He’s breathing. He’s all right.’

  Charlie hovered uncertainly by the pulpit.

  Not knowing how long the doctor would be, I wondered whether I should examine Billy myself. Even though it is so long since I did nursing, one never forgets.

  Mrs Douglas might have read my thoughts. ‘I’ve done what I could. He’s unconscious and has a weak pulse.’ She retreated to the first pew, leaving Selina and Charlie standing by Billy. ‘I’ve had Red Cross training, Mrs Shackleton. As headmaster’s wife one has responsibilities.’

  Glancing across at the door, I saw that Alex stood sentry, waiting for the doctor’s knock.

  ‘It won’t hurt if I take a look.’ I tapped Charlie’s shoulder, encouraging him to draw Selina away. ‘Let me take a look at Billy. I was a nurse in the war. Give him a little space and let him have air.’

  Charlie took the hint. He drew Selina towards a pew. ‘Come and sit down, Miss Fellini. Billy is in good hands.’

  Billy’s breath was shallow, his pulse slow and his skin cold and with a yellowish tinge that I had not noticed that morning or the night before. But last night’s party had been dimly lit, and the morning dark. There was a reddish mark on either cheek. Perhaps someone had slapped him, trying to wake him. I pulled back each eyelid. His eyes were like pinpoints. ‘What have you taken?’ I asked the unconscious man. I looked through his pockets: wallet, comb, small spirits flask, tobacco, cigarette papers, matches, pencil stub and a piece of folded paper. I opened the paper. He had jotted a few words in a hasty scrawl.

  Sun and Moon’s Spectacular Variety Turn. Giggleswick? You shoulda seen em! Goggles everywhere – change name of village – Goggleswick.

  At that moment, aware of someone behind me, I turned. It was Mrs Douglas.

  She took something from her pocket, clenching it in her fist, speaking quietly. ‘Is this what you’re looking for?’ She turned her hand and opened her palm for me to view what she held. It was a pillbox. She spoke in an urgent whisper. ‘We’ve worked so hard to make today’s event a celebration for the school, for British science, for the Astronomer Royal and his party. He’s taken something, hasn’t he?’ She reached for my hand, palm uppermost, pressing the small box on me. ‘Something like this could tarnish the school’s reputation and overshadow today’s achievements.’

  I opened the pillbox. There was a coating of white powder on the inside, and several tablets. Brazen it out, I told myself. While sniffing cocaine might not raise an eyebrow in certain circles, a public school had its reputation to consider. ‘Mrs Douglas, it’s just tablets. It could be aspirin.’

  ‘I’d rather not know what is in the tablet. It’s enough to recognise the powder.’

  At that moment the door of the chapel opened, held by Alex. Two more boys came in, both coatless. The lads carried a stretcher. A small, round man in black overcoat, stethoscope dangling, stepped into the chapel behind them. But it was the boys who mesmerised me. They were about fifteen years old and yet carried the empty stretcher with the militaristic precision of seasoned soldiers. Would we forever train our little boys to be officers and to playact what might one day be real, tragic, and final?

  Charlie had drawn Selina to a second-row pew, leaving space for the stretcher bearers. Mrs Douglas moved to assist the doctor. I waited and watched. As expected, the doctor shooed her aside.

  I diverted Mrs Douglas. ‘Where will he be taken?’

  ‘To Little Howson, it’s our sickbay. If needs be, he’ll be taken to hospital.’

  I watched the doctor carry out the same precise checks that I had. He also looked into Billy’s mouth and felt his throat. After that, Billy was transferred to the stretcher, and the greatcoats replaced by blankets. Alex and another boy put their coats on again.

  As if on late cue, two masters arrived, to take over the carrying of the stretcher. They, Mrs Douglas and the doctor put their heads together in confab.

  The doctor asked, ‘Who is the patient’s next of kin?’

  Selina clutched her fur tightly around her. ‘Mr Moffatt is a widower with no parents or children. I can be contacted, Selina Fellini – Mrs Jarrod Compton, or our manager Trotter Brockett who is at the Queens Hotel in Leeds. Please spare no expense or trouble on Billy’s behalf.’ />
  What followed felt strange in the extreme. We walked from the chapel, across the grounds to the gate where a policeman still stood. He held the gate. The notice on it read, ‘Astronomer Royal Only’.

  We walked the path that led to the school buildings. One of the masters strode ahead, clearing the way. Another master and a sturdy OTC lad carried the stretcher.

  Mrs Douglas told me that we were taking Billy to Howson’s San, the school sanatorium.

  The countryside was still alive with herds of moving human beings who had scaled hills and swarmed through valleys. A cyclist had camped in the lee of the nearby dry stone wall and was now rolling up a groundsheet.

  ‘Someone fainted,’ the lead schoolmaster said to any passer-by who showed the curiosity to ask. ‘Stay clear, please.’