The Glowing Hours

by Marina Oliver

  'Tom? What are you doing here?'

  'I came to see you, your act,' he stuttered.

  'How sweet! Isn't that sweet, darling?' she turned to her escort, who looked on sardonically.

  'Kitty! Can't we go and talk somewhere?' he muttered, desperate.

  'Oh, Tom, I'd love to, but not tonight. Pierre is taking me to supper.'

  'Tomorrow, then?'

  'Tom, I'm sorry, but that's not possible.'

  Tom watched with increasing dismay as Kitty turned to smile intimately up at the man. She reached up her hand and with a soft whisper and a giggle smoothed his pencil-this moustache with a red-tipped finger. She turned back to Tom, unable to conceal the triumph in her eyes.

  'I do hope you enjoy your day-trip to Blackpool. Perhaps Nell would take pity on you and let you take her for a cup of tea in Lyons. I don't think she's having supper with anyone tonight.'

  *

  Their return to Birmingham began with a performance at Endersby's hotel. Andrew had arranged it, as he did all their bookings, and Nell, who seemed to go through the days oblivious of everything except her work, didn't know what was planned until the Sunday they returned to Edgbaston.

  'Well, a few days to rest, and then the gala evening on Saturday,' Andrew said gloatingly. He was having a late breakfast, tucking into a plateful of Meggy's best cooking, while Kitty toyed with a piece of dry toast and Nell looked down into her coffee, unheeding.

  Gwyneth nodded. 'I want to go and see Mr Bliss today, some of his new girls are appearing in the same show. Perhaps we can arrange to have a joint rehearsal some time this week.'

  'OK, I'll speak to Richard Endersby if Bliss hasn't already organised something.'

  'Endersby's?' Nell asked, suddenly alert.

  'Oh, Nell, don't you ever take in anything these days?' Kitty said impatiently. 'We're performing there on Saturday. We told you last week.'

  'Oh, yes, I'd forgotten.'

  She escaped as soon as she could and ran up to her room. She did not know how she could endure to go back to the place where Paul had proposed to her. It would revive all the agony of loss, and the recollection of the shame she felt every time she thought of what had happened between her and Andrew.

  She locked the door and went to kneel beside the chest of drawers under the window. Carefully she opened the bottom drawer and lifted up the clothes folded inside. Beneath was her patch-box. She hadn't worn it in the belt round her waist since soon after she came to live with Kitty. She knew that no one would steal it from her room, and besides, it had been difficult to conceal once she began dancing and had to wear skimpy clothes on stage. She still took the precaution of hiding it beneath the scented paper with which Meggy lined the drawers.

  Clutching the box Nell threw herself down on the bed. It was her one remaining tangible link with the happy life she'd known with her grandparents. She'd always regarded it as a talisman, believing that so long as she possessed it no real harm could come to her. She should have taken it on the tour. She should have risked the possibility of losing it, having it stolen from unfamiliar lodgings. If it had been with her she wouldn't have let Andrew make love to her. The memory made her feel defiled. Even if, to begin with, in her dreamlike state she had believed it was Paul kissing her, she should not have been so abandoned as to kiss him back so eagerly. She was by now no longer clear when she'd known it was not Paul, when she'd begun to protest.

  'Darling, every girl panics at the final moment, but it was worth it, wasn't it?' Andrew had said when, recovering her senses, she had berated him for what he had done. 'You were enjoying it,' he went on. 'I wouldn't have made love to you if you'd said no, I'm not such a cad, but by that time it was too late to stop. I can understand it if you didn't enjoy it with Paul, if that was your first time. But it would have been far more difficult for you next time if you'd given way to your fear and stopped at that point.'

  'There won't be a next time!' she'd raged at him, and he had shrugged, and suggested it would be better if she allowed him to drive them to their next town rather than arouse Kitty's suspicions by returning in her present distraught state.

  She had complied, and she still could not decide what the truth had been. She'd had a frightful headache, and suspected she'd drunk far too much. Dimly she recalled Andrew giving her brandy and wine, but she had no idea how much. That didn't excuse her wanton behaviour. Even if it had been Paul she should not have behaved in that way. If it had been Paul he wouldn't have wanted her to, she told herself, but it didn't help. Nothing helped. Nothing could take away the feeling of disgust at herself and fury with Andrew. The only consolation was that she was not pregnant.

  She wanted to leave the act, but was too nervous of the future to know whether she could return to one of the Bliss troupes. She did her best to ignore Andrew and appear normal, and knew she made a dismal failure of this attempt. She could not, however, return to Endersby's where she had experienced that moment of enchantment listening to Paul, however deranged he might be for the moment, asking her to be his wife.

  In the end, she realised it would be impossible to explain. Andrew would give her the amused, triumphant look he had used ever since that night, and she could not endure the questions Kitty and Gwyneth would ask. It had been difficult enough to fend off their anxious enquiries about her health during the past few weeks. She would have to grit her teeth and go through with it. At least Paul wouldn't be there.

  *

  He was. Nell saw him the moment they danced into the ballroom. He was with Mrs Mandeville and a middle aged couple she did not know. She missed her step and Gwyneth glanced at her anxiously. Recovering, Nell tried to smile back and concentrate totally on the dancing. She succeeded so well that the burst of applause which greeted them at the end was, as Andrew, waiting offstage, enthusiastically informed her, mainly due to her.

  'You were absolutely marvellous, Nell,' he exclaimed.

  'I agree.'

  It was Paul's deep voice, and Nell gasped. She turned slowly to face him and her heart fluttered so wildly she could not speak.

  'Aren't you going to congratulate the rest of us too,' Kitty demanded, her voice brittle. She went across to link her hand in Paul's arm.

  'Of course, Kitty. You were all wonderful, and so much better than you were before you went away. But for some reason Nell seemed inspired tonight. I've never seen her dance so well.'

  Andrew strolled across and put his arm round Nell's waist. He pulled her close. 'Maybe there's a special reason for that, eh Nell darling?' he said, in a low voice but quite clear enough for Paul to hear. 'We had a fantastic tour, Paul,' he went on, releasing Nell and turning to talk to the other man, somehow getting between them so that Nell drew back. 'There were marvellous notices in all the local papers, and some of the big ones too. Now we have a few weeks round the midland theatres, and then we're off to take London by storm. After that, who knows? Maybe we'll be going to America.'

  *

  Pale, a bleak look in his eyes, Paul excused himself when Kitty announced that the after-show party would be at her house.

  She smiled up at him. 'Paul, darling, surely you won't let me down. These days Andrew can't pay attention to anyone but Nell,' she said, an edge to her voice. 'Timothy will be there for you to talk to if you don't want me. Did you know he actually stirred himself to drive all the way to Blackpool to see Gwyneth dancing? Of course he pretended it was to see all of us, but he didn't take us all to intimate little suppers at the Norbreck.'

  'I have my own guests, Kitty,' Paul said, firmly removing her hand from his arm. She stared angrily, then shrugged and flounced away. 'Thank you,' he said to her retreating back, 'but I must now go back to them. I've been away long enough.'

  Abruptly he left the room and Nell, suppressing the anguish which seeing him had revived in all its intensity, retreated into the small private parlour Mrs Endersby had provided as a dressing room. By the time Gwyneth and Kitty came in she was busy creaming her face, and the concentration enabled
her to avoid looking at her friends.

  She spent the next hour trying to avoid Andrew. Since he had made love to her she had been trying to avoid him. While they were touring, and living in different lodgings, it had not been difficult. He was too busy during their times at the theatres, and after they had performed she could elude him and leave swiftly. Her pallor and lack of spirits made her excuses not to attend parties believable, but she could not avoid one in Kitty's house.

  He cornered her in Kitty's small sitting room, between a table and the large settee Kitty had re-covered in a tweed material, to replace the white Nell had originally known, so that she could not move away without physically pushing past him. He was reproachful.

  'Nell, sweetheart, why are you taking such pains never to speak to me?'

  'You should know why,' she replied, struggling to keep calm.

  'Oh, come, you make too much of a friendly little romp,' he said, trying to catch her hand.

  'Is that all it meant to you?' she demanded, suddenly furious, no longer caring about the other people in the room, who looked startled and discreetly began to edge away.

  'Nell, you were perfectly willing to begin with,' he said softly.

  'I – ' she stopped. How could she tell him that in her muzzy state after too much wine she'd thought it had been Paul making love to her? 'I was asleep to begin with,' she sustituted tiredly, her anger evaporating as it was replaced with grief for her loss. It should have been Paul loving her. She could never have married him, but she knew she would have gone to him willingly as his mistress. Now he wouldn't want her.

  Andrew laughed. 'Is that your excuse?' he asked. 'Nell, you are beautiful and desirable. Forget how it happened, or why, just remember that you enjoyed it and can enjoy it again. It may not always be as good as it can be, the first time we are together. Paul's rather stuffy anyway, so you probably didn't enjoy it with him, but I can show you how to make love. Why won't you let me?'

  'Because I despise you!' she said tautly. She suddenly realised that all the other people had left the room, closing the door, and they were alone. Seeing the expression that came into Andrew's eyes she began to tremble.

  At first Andrew stared in amazement at her words. Then he stepped close to her and she couldn't get away. The table pressed into her legs, and she was almost sitting on it when Andrew jerked her into his arms. 'You dare say that?' he demanded incredulously. 'A slut from the gutter, and you have the impertinence to say such a thing? Where do you think you'd be if Kitty and I hadn't helped you? Not living in luxury and fêted by your audiences!'

  She struggled, but he'd captured her hands and she could only turn her face away as he tried to kiss her. Then the door was opened sharply and Kitty swept into the room. Andrew swiftly released Nell and turned to face Kitty, who was eyeing them suspiciously.

  'I've been trying to persuade Nell to come back to the party,' he said smoothly.

  Nell seized the excuse. 'I'm exhausted, do you mind if I go to bed, Kitty?' she asked.

  'It depends who with,' Kitty said curtly. 'Oh, don't look so shocked, Nell! Take Andrew to bed if you want to! Paul as well! Both of them! What do I care?'

  *

  It was true, she was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep. The party continued long after Nell crept into bed. In a while the sounds of Andrew's tenor saxophone penetrated her room and she tried to cover her ears. Even in his playing he conveyed his anger. Instead of the piercingly pure, exuberant richness he normally produced the notes were harsh and strained, teetering on the edge of disharmony, and even more powerful than normal as they bewailed both hostility and torment.

  At last the guests departed, and Nell heard Kitty banging about in her room, apparently not caring who might be asleep, slamming doors and singing loudly as she went to the bathroom. It was late morning when Gwyneth brought a cup of tea into Nell's room.

  'I wondered if you were ill,' she said, quietly closing the door behind her. 'Have this, it'll help.'

  'You're an angel,' Nell said gratefully. 'I couldn't sleep for ages, and I've a dreadful headache.'

  'Shall I fetch an aspirin?'

  'No, thanks, I have some here.'

  Gwyneth perched on the end of the bed. 'You haven't looked well for weeks. Is there anything I can do?'

  'I'm quite all right, Gwyneth.'

  'You aren't. Perhaps you're overworked, too tired. Why don't you ask Paul for a tonic?'

  Before Nell could think of a reply her door opened again, this time noisily. Kitty stood there in her new satin dressing gown. It was scarlet, the fashionable colour since Noel Coward had worn one in The Vortex, and the normally pale Kitty sported cheeks which flamed to match.

  'I am absolutely fed up with being woken up hours before I want to be!' she said viciously.

  Gwyneth stared in amazement. 'We weren't making a noise, Kitty, I just brought Nell a cup of tea,' she began to explain, but Kitty cut her short.

  'You are both ungrateful little tarts! Not only do you wake me up, you behave disgracefully with my guests! I saw you last night, Nell, making up to Andrew when you thought you had him alone. Are you trying to play him off against Paul? I don't know why you bother, you might know neither of them would ever dream of being serious about someone like you! Their girlfriends come from good families.'

  Gwyneth, at first startled, leaped furiously to her feet. 'Kitty Denver! What in the world do you think you're saying? Have you run mad? How dare you say such untruthful, hurtful things to Nell? I thought you were her friend, I thought it didn't matter what families we came from! Just because you have money you can ignore the fact that your mother was, and still is from what you say, an upper class whore. You are a bastard in more senses than one!'

  'Gwyneth!' Nell breathed, aghast.

  Kitty turned on her. 'Don't bleat!' she almost screamed. 'As for you, with your stupid middle-class Welsh preaching morality, why should I be friends with a jumped-up shopgirl just because we can both dance and sing? I could laugh to see the way you try to entice Timothy with your simpering and pretended fear of stupid little motor cars! He'll never take someone like you seriously. He'll marry a girl from his own class.'

  'Like you, I suppose?' Gwyneth retorted angrily. 'Don't hope too much, Kitty! Timothy will choose a lady, not a pampered harpy like you!. She turned to Nell. 'Pack your clothes, we're leaving here now.'

  'I was about to suggest you'd outstayed your welcome,' Kitty said bitingly. 'After all I've done for the pair of you, you could be a little more grateful, and behave in a manner that doesn't offend my better class guests.'

  ***

  Chapter 18

  'Where have they gone?' Andrew demanded on Monday morning.

  Kitty shrugged. 'How should I know. They sent for a taxi, and I certainly wasn't eavedropping when they told the man where to go. I was glad to see the back of them.'

  'But why? What on earth induced them to leave? How can I get in touch with them about our next performances?'

  'They didn't say,' Kitty replied, tossing her head. 'The ungrateful bitches just walked out. After all I'd done for them, too, giving them a free home with bedrooms better than either of them had ever seen before, as well as taking them everywhere in my car. But that's the trouble with that class of person, they don't know how to be grateful and begin to take advantage. It's as well they've gone.'

  'Did you throw them out?' Andrew demanded. 'I know you, Kitty, and you can be a jealous little cat at times. You were spitting mad when you found Nell with me last night, even though there was nothing wrong happening. And you've been in an odd mood ever since Timothy began to teach Gwyneth to drive. What's the matter, can you see your admirers being attracted to girls who have more pleasant natures?'

  'If all you intend to do is insult me and defend them, you can get out too!'

  'I will. Don't forget we have a rehearsal tomorrow.'

  'I won't forget, and I won't be there! I never want to set eyes on either of those little trollops again. Nor do I want to appear on t
he same stage as them. Find someone else, Andrew dear, who can endure dreadful dingy lodgings and filthy backstage dressing rooms, and who's not so particular about the sort of girls she dances with. I have other plans.'

  *

  Gwyneth's shoulders drooped. She managed to smile at the receptionist.

  'I see. Thank you. If you're full here we'll have to try somewhere else.'

  Nell was waiting on the other side of the hall, beside a pile of hastily packed cases. Seeing Gwyneth's slight shake of the head she sighed. It was all her fault they had lost their home. Then she rallied herself. It was in no way her fault and she must stop feeling guilty for what others did. Despite herself her voice wavered as she spoke.

  'We ought to have kept the taxi. We'll have to find another one and try somewhere else.'

  'Can I help?'

  Neither of them had seen Mrs Endersby emerging from her small office and crossing towards the stairs. They swung round as she approached them, and Gwyneth managed to smile.

  'We need rooms for a few nights, but your hotel is full. We can try elsewhere.'

  'You both look terrible. Come and have some coffee with me, and perhaps we can do something. Go into my room, I'll be back in a moment.' When she followed them into the small but elegantly furnished room, more like a sitting room than an office with its comfortable chairs arranged about a fireplace, she waved them to seats.

  'Please, sit down and be comfortable. The coffee will be here in a moment. I thought you both lived with Kitty Denver. So why do you need rooms?'

  'We – er – we decided to move out,' Gwyneth said hesitantly. Her anger had cooled and she was feeling ashamed of the way in which she and Kitty had hurled bitter accusations at one another. When it was too late she wondered how such bad feeling would affect the way in which they had to work together. If only they could prevent speculation amongst their friends it might be possible to heal the rift sufficiently for it not to damage the act.

  Marigold Endersby was not deceived. 'What you really mean is that Kitty threw you out, without giving you time to make other arrangements,' she said drily. 'Here's the coffee. Thank you, Jenny.' She poured the coffee and handed it to them.