*
'Dick! What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be in the hotel.'
Dick, his eyes still gleaming, turned guiltily to face his father. Richard felt the familiar stab of regret that he had missed his son's first few years because of the war. Although he was dark while she was fair, he was so like Marigold, with his blue eyes and delightful smile.
'I was listening to Mr Denver playing. Father, may I learn to play the saxophone?'
'You made a dreadful fuss when you had to have piano lessons.'
Dick hung his head. 'I know, but that was different! It wasn't fun.' He became animated and bounced up and down in front of Richard as he tried to explain. 'Mr Denver let me have a go, blowing into the mouthpiece. He was telling me all about Adolphe Sax who invented it. Did you know it's the air vibrating in the tube which makes the sound? The sound comes out differently depending on the size – I think it's the size, but he used longer words – of the space?'
Richard suppressed a grin. 'If it isn't another of your enthusiasms, that vanishes the next day, we'll think about lessons. But you'll have to do piano too.'
'I don't mind that if I can play the saxophone,' Dick offered generously. 'Thank you! I will work hard, I promise! Do you know they used to use it in army bands, and they even put it into proper orchestras! Now may I go home and tell mother?'
*
'I feel so guilty about leaving Amy in those conditions.'
Gwyneth nodded sympathetically. 'Was it really so dreadful? You've never told me many details.'
'I was too ashamed, I suppose,' Nell replied slowly. 'Because I'd lived with Gran for so long, I never really knew the others. Eth was jealous, and I can't blame her. She had to put up with Pa's beatings a lot longer than I did! Amy was different, somehow. I felt closer to her, like a real sister.'
'I never had a sister, and I don't think it's the same with brothers. I never felt I could confide in mine, anyway, though we got on well enough. But you can't do anything about Amy. It will help her to know you're still near her.'
'I felt dreadful when she said how worried Ma was. I've been so selfish, thinking only of my own wants.'
Gwyneth shook her head. 'You may be able to help Amy later on, when we're famous dancers and earning fabulous amounts of money! You wouldn't help by going back home.'
Nell shuddered. 'I know, and I couldn't bear that now I've escaped once.'
'You know, we're like sisters now,' Gwyneth said brightly, attempting to cheer Nell up. 'Did you ever want an older sister?'
Nell smiled. 'Sometimes, especially since Gran died. I used to think it would be more bearable if I had someone to confide in, ask for help. You've certainly been like a sister in that way! Now we ought to get ready for the party. I never thought, that day they caught me in the stables, that I'd soon be going to a party there with half of Edgbaston!'
*
'Ma! Look! 'Alf a crown! Fer all of us.'
Amy rushed through the door, which hung crookedly on its rusty hinges. She skipped across to where her mother sat beside the small table, listlessly attempting to sew up a triangular tear in eight-year-old Norman's trousers. He was sitting, glowering, on an upturned orange box, as near to the small fire as he could get without scorching his bare skinny flanks.
'Amy, luv! Where on earth did yer get so much money?'
'Our Nell! Ma, yer should 'ave seen 'er!'
'Nell? My God, Amy, yer not making this up, are yer? Did yer really see our Nell? Is 'er all right?'
'Course 'er is! Right as rain! Looked a real lady, posh as the Queen!'
'You ain't never seen the Queen,' Norman said scornfully, turning so that his other side got the benefit of the meagre heat coming from the fire.
'Neither 'ave you, so you don't know what 'er looks like, so there!' Amy shot back at him. 'I've seen plenty o' toffs down in the 'Agley Road. That's where I seen our Nell, Ma!'
'Did 'er tell yer where 'er was livin? 'As 'er got a proper job?'
'I dunno. But next time I'll ask 'er.'
'Next time? Yer knows where ter find 'er? Why didn't yer say?'
'Nell said not ter let Pa know.'
The stairs door crashed open.
'An' yer Pa says yer'll tell 'im straight off, or I'll leather yer till yer yells fer mercy!'
Amy screamed, and as her father came towards her turned to flee. He would have caught her if her mother hadn't jumped to her feet and collided with him. As Amy fled along the yard and through the alleyway she could hear her father's roars of fury and the beseeching cries of her mother.
Sobbing wildly, she pressed her hands over her ears long after she was hundreds of yards away, so far that it was impossible to hear. But she had lost all reason, and fled along Ledsham Street, turning blindly along St Vincent Street, until she could run no more. She sank down at last onto a pile of rubbish outside a shop in Sandpits, sobbing and shivering inconsolably.
***
Chapter 10
Thanks to Gwyneth's skills with her needle she and Nell had elegantly suitable gowns for Kitty's party.
'The simpler the better,' she declared, and fashioned sleeveless, short-skirted, dropped waisted dresses in plain satin, apple green for her and a deep rose pink for Nell, both with long black fringes suspended from shoulders and waist.
Kitty was wearing an elaborate silk dress with handkerchief hem, in dark blue. Three ropes of pearls dangled almost to her waist and another strand was twisted through the bandeau she wore low on her forehead.
'Darlings, your dresses are divine! Come in and meet the gang!' she greeted them, and within seconds they were surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of people.
Nell afterwards worked out that there were no more than thirty or so guests in the big drawing room, where the carpet had been rolled back and a trio of musicians was playing dance tunes, but they were all talking or laughing so loudly the noise was overwhelming.
Before she could obey her first instinct to flee, Andrew Denver appeared beside her. 'Nell, you look wonderful!'
'Better than the last time we met here?' Nell said breathlessly, and he laughed, seized her by the waist and swung her round as the musicians struck up a lively polka. She lost track of the men she danced with, and the cocktails she was given. Through caution she usually deposited the drinks, barely tasted, on some table or window ledge as soon as she decently could. Nevertheless, by the time Kitty announced that supper was ready in the dining room across the hall Nell had lost all her shyness and felt she was floating on air. She'd been so nervous of meeting Kitty's wealthy friends. Gwyneth, who had, because of her father's position and her brothers' schoolfriends, mixed freely with all sorts of people since her childhood, reassured her.
'Your accent is as good as theirs now, so they'll never know where you come from,' she insisted. 'They'll accept you without thinking.'
Nell hadn't been so sure, but it had proved correct. No one was interested in where she came from, only in her present life on the stage. The men all wanted to flirt, while the girls were eager to hear all about the supposed glamour. Gwyneth had encouraged Nell to mimic some of the characters they had met, and she suddenly found herself blossoming under the admiring attention.
She still had enough sense left to realise that one man she had expected to dance with had not approached her at all, did not even appear to recognise her. Finding herself next to Gwyneth as Kitty swept them towards the buffet Nell caught her arm.
'Is Paul Mandeville dancing with anyone?' she asked.
'Yes, I've danced with him and so has Kitty. Why?'
'I – nothing.'
'If you were wondering why he hasn't asked you, it's probably because no one can get near you with all the men clamouring for dances,' Gwyneth laughed, and Nell blushed.
'There are more men than girls,' she said hurriedly.
'Yes. Kitty knows how to organise parties for her own benefit. Have you met Timothy?' she added.
'No. Isn't he the man the party is supposed to be
for? The one who's been abroad?'
'Yes. He's nice. Come and be introduced.'
The Honourable Timothy Travers was tall, thin, deeply tanned, and had rather long, straw coloured hair and light hazel eyes. He smiled lazily at Nell when she and Gwyneth walked across and pulled up some more chairs for them.
'Come and tell me all about this mischief Kitty's been getting into while I haven't been here to look after her,' he drawled languidly.
Gwyneth raised her eyebrows slightly. 'Mischief?' she queried swiftly. 'You call stage dancing mischief?'
'It's hardly what you'd expect a girl like Kitty to get involved with, is it?' he replied.
'Exactly what sort of girl would you expect to get involved with it?' Gwyneth asked softly, and Nell tensed. She'd heard that tone before when Gwyneth had berated one of the men lodging in their house, who had tried to steal a kiss on the dark stairs.
To her relief Timothy laughed. 'I wasn't trying to be insulting,' he assured her. 'I know you are a dancer. I simply didn't expect Kitty to have enough determination to do all the necessary practising, that's all.'
'Oh.' Gwyneth let out her breath slowly. 'I see.'
'Yes.' He turned to Nell. 'And I believe you're a dancer too? Kitty pointed out her two best friends, and I could hardly forget such stunning beauties. It's Nell, isn't it? Will you dance with me afterwards?'
They spent almost an hour together, dancing and then sitting in one of the small parlours. Timothy talked enthusiastically about his recent visit to South Africa.
'I may go back there soon. It's a beautiful country and it's given me a taste for travel. I've a fancy to visit Australia now. Hasn't Paul Mandeville's mother just come back from there?'
'Yes, I think so. Some months ago. Are you really going?' Nell asked enviously. Until now she'd hardly imagined herself ever going to London. To hear someone talk so casually about visiting the other side of the world was odd.
'One day I will. But the sea journey is so tedious,' Timothy replied. 'I think I'd rather wait until they can fly us there. Now they've managed to cross the Atlantic we ought soon to be able to do more than just hop across the Channel to Biarritz or Le Touquet. How about coming with me?'
'I've never thought about going anywhere except England,' Nell said honestly. 'And I simply can't imagine what it would be like flying in an aeroplane.' She knew he wasn't serious, this was the sort of joking conversation Kitty's upper class friends indulged in.
He pulled her to her feet as the band started playing a tango. 'Can you do this? I spent a whole afternoon trying to teach Kitty the basic steps. Yes, you're good. If your stage dancing is successful perhaps the Bliss Beauties will be going to Paris or even New York.'
'Really? I'd never thought of that!'
'Why not? The Tiller's Girls are in Paris, at the Folies-Bergère.'
'But I thought – ' Nell stopped in confusion, and a slow blush stained her cheeks.
Timothy held her closer as he whirled them into a reverse spin and oversway. 'You thought the Folies-Bergère was a less than respectable place, yes?' he asked, grinning down at her.
Nell nodded as she slowly came upright.
'They do have nudes,' he said in a matter of fact tone, 'but it's all very tasteful, and the English dancers are more heavily chaperoned than they are in this country. They live in a hostel run by an English parson, and what could be more respectable than that?'
'I just want to dance,' Nell said firmly, and he laughed in delight.
'It's much harder work, dancing, but I wonder whether Kitty might wish to change? She needs constant admiration without making a great deal of effort,' he said disapprovingly.
Soon afterwards he went to fetch a drink, saying Nell looked hot, and as she waited Andrew strolled up to her.
'You look as if you could do with some fresh air. Shall we go and visit your friends in the stable?'
'Timothy is fetching me a drink,' she replied, shaking her head.
'You needn't mind him, it's far more important to keep the musicians happy.'
'Aren't you playing at all tonight?'
'Tonight I'm off duty, I'm enjoying myself. Especially when I'm talking to you.'
'Hands off, old chap! Your drink, Nell. Shall I send this interloper about his business?'
Timothy's tone was light, but he put a proprietorial arm round Nell's shoulders and stood beside her, facing Andrew. The latter grinned back at him.
'Make the most of your opportunities, Timothy! Unless you come and work as a waiter at Endersby's I'll have Nell all to myself on the nights she's working there.'
'Are you doing more shows there, Nell?' Timothy asked. 'I heard how successful the first one was. I wish I'd been back in time to see it.'
'It depends on whether we have theatrical engagements. Mr Bliss may use other girls, he has quite a few in his classes who are ready to form troupes. But if we're in a Birmingham theatre he'll sometimes arrange for us to come back to Endersby's afterwards,' Nell explained.
'And you'll be doing two shows a night? Won't that be hard work?'
'It's normal, lots of troupes rush off to do performances at the ciné-variety theatres in between ordinary stage work.'
'You should complain. Form a union and demand better conditions. Besides, if you're worked so hard how can you have the energy for pleasant little suppers afterwards with your admirers?'
Andrew chuckled. 'She won't need to, Timothy, she'll be permitting the equally hard-working musician to escort her home!'
Nell told herself firmly that such bantering was meaningless, the normal sort of friendly teasing she'd noticed before with Kitty and her upper-class men friends. There was no harm in it, it was fun, far preferable to Tom's heavy-handed gallantries.
It wasn't the sort of conversation Paul Mandeville employed. It was almost midnight before he walked across the room and, with a brief smile at Timothy, who seemed to have attached himself permanently to Nell's side, held out a hand to her.
'Come and talk to me for a change.'
By now they were dancing to a gramophone, and the more lively dances had given way to the slow foxtrot. Many of the dancers, finding the steps too difficult, had taken the opportunity to visit the buffet for more food and only half a dozen couples circled the floor in time with the dreamy music.
'Kitty says you might be doing an act in the music hall next week. Will it be the same as the one at Endersby's?'
Nell shook her head. 'We've changed it a lot. Some of it's similar, but we can't do exactly the same moves on a stage facing the audience. In the ballroom we had people all round us. Mrs Bliss is very clever at working it all out.'
He seemed interested in the details, unlike Andrew who, despite his music, frankly admitted he liked to dance but hardly knew the names of the dances, just went with the music as he saw fit. Nell discovered that Paul understood and appreciated some of the technical problems. 'Where do you come from?' he asked after a while. 'Sometimes I think I can hear the Birmingham accent in your voice, at other times you sound more like your friend, the Welsh girl.'
Nell bit her lip. 'I can't stop imitating everyone,' she admitted. 'I come from Birmingham, at least I lived in Ladywood for two years.'
'Ladywood? I do a clinic there twice a week. Do you still live there?'
'I'm not sure where we'll be living after next week. Our landlady is throwing us out because the other tenants complain about us practising. Gwyneth and I have been looking for a couple of rooms all day, but we want to stay together, and we need space to practise. Gwyneth says we're bound to find somewhere, but I can't help worrying.'
'She's right, you'll soon find rooms. Where did you live before Ladywood? Have you any family there?'
Avoiding the latter question Nell explained she'd lived with her grandparents until they died. Paul knew Sutton Coldfield well, and for the first time Nell was able to look back on her days there with gratitude, unspoilt by the fierce desire to return. One day, she was now certain, she'd be able to go back and
wander round the familiar lanes, walk in the Park, sit by the pools.
*
'Where do you live, child?'
Amy was shivering so badly her teeth were chattering and she was totally unable to reply. 'It's no good, Flora. She looks terrified to me. Let's take her home for the night, then if she can't talk to us in the morning we ought to pass her over to the authorities.'
'Help me lift her. Gracious, she's so thin! Skin and bone! It's a wonder she's alive.'
'Poor mite. She's probably been scavenging off the street stalls. It's posible her parents have died, I suppose. That could account for her fright.'
Amy tried to tell them she had parents and a family, but the words just would not come. They formed all right inside her head, but couldn't get through her teeth, which for some odd reason were clamped hard together, so hard the only noises she could make were frightening whimpers.
'Can you manage, Sibyl?'
'Yes, she's no weight at all. Smithers, get the rug out of the motor.'
'Yes, Miss Dawson.'
'Perhaps if we wrap her up she'll stop this dreadful shivering. What time is it?'
'Almost midnight. How fortunate you spotted her lying here. Let's get home, we'll be able to do something in the morning.'
*
It was a small theatre, and the dressing rooms were tiny. The largest was reserved for the comic who topped the bill, much to the disgust of the more experienced performers.
'All he needs to do is change his jacket! I can't see why he should have the largest room when the rest of us have to share!' one of the Singing Twins complained. 'There'll be four of us sharing one dressing room!'
'Think yourselves lucky!' an elderly man, a juggler, replied. 'I'm wi' the three acrobats, the tenor, half the Dancin' Duo, as well as Mick and his bloody monkeys! There ain't room to even swing one o' the blasted critters!'
The eight Bliss Beauties, huddled together in the auditorium on the following Monday morning as they waited for the Master of Ceremonies to arrive, looked apprehensively at one another. None of them had ever seen a theatre dressing room, and Mr Bliss had not explained much at their final rehearsal on Saturday, just told them to be on time.
The Glowing Hours Page 12