The Glowing Hours

by Marina Oliver

  'No, but I – I have something I must do, I can't come before ten o'clock.'

  'Then I'll call for you at ten.'

  Surely, Nell thought with a sudden surge of anxiety, that would give Amy plenty of time to come to their secret meeting place by Perrott's Folly. She hadn't come the previous Sunday, when Nell had slipped away from The Firs before the others were awake, and waited by the tall tower after which Monument Road had been named. Nell had been telling herself ever since that there was nothing to worry about, Amy might have forgotten, or had to do something for Ma so that she couldn't get away. Nell hadn't been able to wait long, she didn't want to appear ungrateful to Kitty on their first morning with her. But if Amy could come she'd be there before ten, and Nell could enjoy her day out without worrying.

  *

  'Where would you like to go?' Paul asked as they set off.

  Kitty had first been amazed, then very quiet, finally effusively supportive when Nell shyly told the others about Paul's invitation. Gwyneth had turned abruptly away, saying she felt exhausted, and slowly climbed the stairs to her room.

  'It's ages since Paul Mandeville did anything impulsive,' Kitty said. 'Good for you, Nell! You must borrow my fur coat, it can be fiendishly cold in a motor in March.'

  So Nell sat beside Paul, wrapped in Kitty's deliciously warm furs, with more fur rugs draped over her legs, unable fully to comprehend what was happening. Firmly she thrust out of her mind her disappointment that Amy had once more not come to meet her. She wondered whether Amy couldn't be bothered, but didn't want to believe that. Something had prevented her from coming. She'd keep on going every week, and would eventually discover what it was.

  'I really don't mind where we go. You choose. I don't know anywhere,' she replied.

  She would have liked to go back to Sutton, but shied away from suggesting it. She knew it would bring back painful memories, and she didn't want to break down in front of Paul, who was so much older and so clever, and would probably despise her for weakness. Besides, he frightened her a little. Not in the same terrifying way she was scared of her father, for she knew instinctively Paul could never be cruel. It was more a worry that he would dismiss her nostalgia, as well as her other fears as insignificant, foolish, unworthy. She was nervous enough about doing or saying something which he would find silly or unsophisticated, which might make him disapprove of her. For some inexplicable reason she wanted to look well in his eyes. He was the most superior being she had ever encountered.

  'We'll go to the Malvern Hills. I used to spend holidays there as a child, with an uncle. It's a lovely clear day, and from the top we can see right back to Birmingham.'

  He turned southwards, and Nell gazed, awestruck, at the enormous houses set in spacious grounds. 'You don't live in a house like these, do you?' she asked after a few minutes.

  He chuckled. 'No, my house is considerably smaller. You've never seen them before?'

  'I've hardly dared come far into this side of the Hagley Road,' she confessed. 'Just to Kitty's house, but that's near the main road. They don't allow shops and trade, and it seemed too presumptuous just to walk round the streets. Besides, everyone else except nannies drives round in carriages or motors and I'd feel terribly out of place, as though everyone were looking at me.'

  'If they were looking it would be because you're so beautiful,' he said lightly.

  When Nell stole a glance at him he was staring straight ahead. She couldn't think what to say, so remained silent. It was the sort of meaningless compliment Kitty's friends all used, she decided, though she was surprised Paul behaved in the same manner. Somehow she'd thought of him as different. She wasn't at all sure how to deal with compliments from him. She wasn't ugly, but her eyes were too big and her nose too small for beauty.

  'Have you ever been through Bourneville?' Paul asked a few minutes later. 'We're coming into it now.'

  'No. Doesn't it belong to the chocolate factory?'

  'One of the Cadbury family built a few houses here in the last century, because the factory was so far out of the city and difficult for his workmen to get to. About thirty years ago they built a lot more, and it was one of the first planned villages.'

  'What a lot of space!' Nell exclaimed a few minutes later. 'You could get half a dozen Ladywood courts into just one of those gardens!'

  'It's being used as a model for the new estates being built in the suburbs. Soon, I hope, they'll increase the amount of building they're doing and pull down the slums.'

  'That would be a dream to most people,' Nell said longingly. 'But if everyone has to move out into the suburbs, they couldn't afford to get to work. The rents would be higher and they couldn't pay tram and bus fares as well as higher rents.'

  'They might build blocks of flats, for exactly those reasons.' They drove on for a while without speaking, Paul wondering why on earth he was burbling on about slum clearance and other tediously boring matters when he had the loveliest girl he'd ever seen by his side, and all he really wanted to do was ask Nell to tell him every single detail about her life. He reflected ruefully on the odd effect she had on him, making him slink, almost in disguise, into a music hall, then asking her out for the day, alone, something he'd never done before with any girl, even Victoria. He felt eighteen again, gauche and uncertain, desperately anxious to impress the girls who fluttered round the men in uniform. Eventually he broke the slightly awkward silence as he pointed.

  'This is Longbridge. Look, there's Sir Herbert Austin's workshops where they build the cars.'

  Nell stared in amazement. 'It's huge! None of the factories in Ladywood are anywhere near as big!'

  'No, but Sir Herbert employs tens of thousands of workers. Kitty says she is buying one of the new little cars?'

  Nell laughed. 'Yes, she'll have it some time next week. She's very cross not to have it today, as we're dancing at Wolverhampton next week and will have to come home by train until it's here. I wonder whether she'll learn to drive it as she plans?'

  'I expect so. Driving isn't difficult, even in a big car like this.'

  Soon they were out into real country, bowling along at a great speed. Nell was thankful she'd listened to Kitty's advice and not tried to wear a hat. Paul had the hood down and even the scarf she'd tied round her head kept threatening to break free. She clutched it anxiously whenever a strong gust of wind caught them.

  'You can see Worcester Cathedral,' Paul said after another long silence, pointing. 'Shall we stop by the river?'

  'It's the Severn, isn't it? My Gran once told me she spent a few days here with her Gran, and went on a boat. She said they had funny little round boats which don't come more than a few inches out of the water.'

  'Coracles. They still have them, and they look dreadfully unsafe, but they hardly ever turn over.'

  They walked alongside the river for a while, then Nell shivered despite the fur coat and Paul was instantly solicitous.

  'You mustn't catch cold. Come on, I'm planning to eat in a hotel high on the side of the hill, where we can look out of the restaurant window across towards the river. We won't be able to see it, but we'll know it's there.'

  Nell smiled shyly at him as he tucked the rugs round her. He had the craziest urge to throw away all caution and discretion and sweep her into his arms. But staid, responsible, eligible doctors with wealthy patients didn't behave like that. They didn't announce they were madly in love with a girl they'd met only a couple of times, a girl from a totally unsuitable background who was earning her living in the rather dubious profession of stage dancer.

  He started the car again. Soon they were climbing a steep hill towards the hotel, built of old stone and which, in summer, would be covered in creeper. By now Nell was used to good food, and sufficient of it. She'd never before eaten in a restaurant, though, and gazed round in awe at the quietly luxurious room, with light coloured panelled walls, enormous crystal chandeliers, and several wide windows with red velvet curtains looped back to each side. They were shown to a window table
set right inside a large bay, and she exclaimed in delight at the view stretched before her, seemingly for tens of miles.

  'We can see even more from on top of the hills. We'll walk up there afterwards,' Paul promised. 'Shall I order for both of us?'

  'Yes please,' Nell said thankfully. She had caught a glimpse of the menu, and to her horror realised it was in French. How ignorant Paul would have thought her if she'd had to confess the only words she knew were the few she'd seen in the magazines Kitty bought. She didn't think 'Eau de Cologne' or 'Les Reines de Crèmes' would be of great value here. Concentrating hard, Nell watched Paul and carefully selected the knives and forks he did from the daunting array of cutlery set before them. To her relief she seemed to make no mistakes, and gradually relaxed, answering his questions about Mr Bliss and the dancing troupe. She was grateful to him. He seemed genuinely interested and even laughed when she mimicked Mr Bliss and his rather shrill voice as he rapped out staccato instructions.

  Afterwards they drove further up the hill, curving round until they emerged at the top and, as Paul had promised, could see an enormous distance. Below them the woods and fields lay in patterns, criss-crossed by roads and cart tracks, and a long way off they could see an occasional gleam where the river showed through gaps in the winter trees.

  'We mustn't stay long, it's cold and will soon be dark,' Paul said, and Nell wondered if she'd imagined the tinge of regret in his voice.

  'It's been a wonderful day. Thank you.' Nell said when Paul stopped the car outside The Firs and jumped out.

  'It's been wonderful for me too. Will you come with me again?' he asked, as he helped her down. 'In the summer we can really enjoy the countryside.'

  She smiled, tremulous and delighted. 'I'd love it. If you really want me to.'

  'I want – '

  His words were cut short as the front door opened and Kitty came running out.

  'At last! We thought you'd never get back! Paul, come in and have supper with us, Andrew's here, Timothy as well.'

  Paul shook his head, explained he had work to do before the following day, an article he was writing for a medical journal, and drove away. Nell turned towards the house, still in a dream.

  *

  'Andrew's coming to see us tonight, and will drive us home in his car,' Kitty announced as the three girls were changing at the Wolverhampton theatre on Monday.

  'I didn't know he had a car,' Gwyneth said.

  'He's just bought one. A Vauxhall tourer. I don't know why he wants such a big one, since he lives just a few minutes by tram away from Endersby's, and hardly ever plays anywhere else, but it's lucky for us.'

  The entire troupe felt like old hands now. 'This dressing room is so much bigger, and better equipped, thank goodness,' Gwyneth said when they were told where to go.

  'And that was Belle, one of the Singing Twins, she recognised us,' another girl marvelled.

  The morning's rehearsal had gone smoothly, and some of the Bliss Beauties had felt confident enough to crack jokes with the stage hands as they waited in the wings. They were still the first on the bill, and had to endure the noises of latecomers, but by now they knew this was normal and didn't allow it to distract them. Although a larger theatre than the previous one, it was fuller even on Monday, and the applause the girls received was more than merely polite, it was warm and enthusiastic. The Manager beamed at them as they ran down to the dressing room, and detained Gwyneth briefly.

  'He said he'll definitely give us regular bookings!' she announced as she whirled into the dressing room. 'We're made, girls! The Bliss Beauties are on their way!'

  Andrew was waiting for them in the narrow street outside the stage door. 'You were absolutely fantastic!' he enthused, leaping down from his large car to hug them each in turn. They chattered excitedly all the way back to Edgbaston, and Andrew joined them for the supper Meggy had prepared. 'Chorus lines are all very well, but you're all talented enough to do better than that,' he pronounced when they were sprawling round Kitty's sitting room afterwards. 'I've had a few ideas, can I come and talk about them tomorrow?'

  'Not too early!' Kitty groaned. 'It's midnight now, and we working girls have to get our beauty sleep! God, to think I used to go to bed at dawn and never notice, and now I feel utterly grim by midnight!'

  ***

  Chapter 12

  Amy hated the big house they brought her to. She'd begun to trust Miss Flora and Miss Sibyl, though she'd been too frightened to speak to them. Then she'd been taken to a big house with lots of other children, inspected and prodded and talked at by lots of different ladies and gentlemen, and after weeks, so many she couldn't remember, taken to an even bigger house. She didn't even know where she was, except that it was a long train journey from Birmingham, a place called Barkingside. Now, even when she wanted to speak, she couldn't. Sometimes she thought it had been a good job she hadn't been able to speak. Scared and miserable as she was at this place they called Dr Barnardo's, although she hadn't seen a doctor called that, just a man they called Doctor Meredith, she knew she would be utterly terrified if they forced her to go back and face Pa, even though the children called her 'Dummy' when the grown-ups weren't around. She was well fed and they didn't beat her, but she missed Ma and Nell so fiercely it was far worse than one of Pa's beatings, and occasionally she wondered if it might be better to tell them who she was. But there was nothing she could do, for try as she might she couldn't speak now.

  *

  'I want to do something different. I'm getting bored playing in the same place all the time. You can all dance, and all sing,' Andrew said enthusiastically. 'We can create a bigger act, singing and dancing and musical solos. It would be sensational!'

  They were in Kitty's drawing room, trying out various songs.

  'You mean a complete bill?' Gwyneth asked doubtfully.

  'Gwyneth has a lovely rich contralto, Nell and Kitty are sopranos. You are all good but different, and blend together well. A couple of the chaps can sing too.'

  The girls looked at one another. 'I'd like it,' Kitty said after a while. 'It would be fun.'

  'But I want to dance,' Gwyneth said slowly. 'We've only just started in a troupe, and anyway I'm not sure I'd enjoy doing all the rest.'

  'Don't you enjoy singing?' Kitty asked.

  'I prefer dancing.'

  'What about you, Nell?'

  'I'm not sure. I don't know anything about singing, and I don't know whether I'd like to be doing special dances all the time, though I'd like to try acrobatic dancing, I used to love doing handstands and cartwheels. It's more – comforting to be in a line.'

  'There's no need to decide now. You have several weeks in theatres in Birmingham or near by, we can talk about it and think about some preliminary ideas, and then see if they'll work.'

  'Mr and Mrs Bliss have been so good to us, and got us these bookings, I'd hate to let them down,' Gwyneth said.

  'You can't stay with them for ever, they don't expect that, and it will be months before we're ready. You can give them notice, and surely he's doing so well now with lots of new classes he wouldn't find it difficult to replace you in the line. He'll have to get used to doing that. The girls don't stay in the same troupe for long, usually. They get other offers, move into better known troupes, like one of John Tiller's, or leave to get married. And if it's a success it will be good for the Bliss School when people know you were trained there.'

  'We'll see. We've only just started dancing professionally,' Gwyneth warned. 'Best not look too far ahead until we're sure we're being successful with the troupe.'

  *

  'It's not broken, just a strained muscle, but it means you won't be able to dance for several weeks,' Paul said.

  'But I've so little money saved, I have to work!' Nell protested, and gasped as Paul bound up her swollen ankle.

  'You don't need to pay me anything, Nell, so don't worry about that,' Kitty said swiftly.

  'If you try to dance too soon you'll injure yourself so badly you'll never b
e able to dance again,' he warned.

  'What will Mr Bliss say?'

  'Gwyneth has gone to see him now so that they can decide who replaces you for next week's booking,' Kitty told her. 'Thank goodness it happened tonight, we've Sunday to rehearse with a new girl.'

  'You've all been so kind! You and Gwyneth even carried me off the stage without the audience noticing!'

  'That was Gwyneth's quick thinking, and you'd finished your solo dance anyway, so it looked planned, and we could go on without you for the rest of the act.'

  Nell chuckled suddenly. 'The stage manager was so bewildered when you threw me into his arms and danced back on to the stage! He didn't know whether to throw me back on too.'

  'I don't think I'd have minded being carried down to the dressing room in his arms! He was rather divinely big and strong,' Kitty giggled.

  'At least he didn't make you walk on it,' Paul said to Nell, but she thought he looked angry.

  Kitty drew closer to the fire and put on some more coal. 'Brr! It's freezing cold tonight, I was shivering before we went on,' she said. 'I was glad to start dancing to warm up.'

  'Do you practise before you go on?' Paul asked.

  'Practise? No, there's never enough room.'

  'I don't mean do your routine, all together. Doing steps, warming up gradually, getting your muscles ready, loosening them, so that when you start to dance properly it isn't too much of a strain on them. Hasn't Mr Bliss ever told you to do that?'

  'Not before a stage performance. In classes we start with simple exercises first.'

  'If you don't warm up there's always a risk of this sort of injury. Does Mr Bliss pay you when you're not working in the theatre?'

  'He's our manager. When we all had to give up our jobs in order to rehearse, before the first engagement, he paid us for the week of the rehearsals. That's half what we get when we're performing. He takes some of that, as his fee for managing and training us. It's instead of us paying for classes, and the usual system, he said.'

  'Then it was his negligence in not telling you to warm up that caused the injury. He should pay you at least the rehearsal rate. He wouldn't like it to be known amongst theatrical people that he doesn't take proper care of his troupes.'