'You killed him,' she repeated tonelessly.
'It weren't my fault! I'd been drinkin', an' the dratted beer were doctored, must 'ave been! I can drink twice as much at Ryland Arms. It were just a friendly punch-up! I didn't know the daft chump 'adn't the guts ter put up 'is fists!'
Nell stared at him, not comprehending such ridiculous excuses. 'If you'd let me go to Paris it wouldn't have happened,' she said at last.
'But you'm my gal, Nell, an' I won't 'ave yer flauntin' yer legs in front o' randy old men! 'Tain't decent!'
'Neither is murder!'
Suddenly the bombast left him. He cringed, and Nell decided that was worse. 'Nell, fer the sake o' yer Ma, bless 'er soul, don't tell police! It won't bring 'im back, an' yer can't live with yersen if yer gives yer old Pa up to them lot!'
'I won't say anything – on one condition.'
'What? Anythin' yer wants, Nell, anythin'!'
'Get out of here and keep away from me. I don't want to see you again, ever. I don't want to be reminded I'm the daughter of a murderer! If you keep away from me I'll forget I saw you, I won't give you up.'
For a moment he stared at her, assessing whether she meant it. Then he grinned, straightened his shoulders, and rose to his feet. 'You allus were the best o' the bunch!' he said jauntily. 'I knew I could trust me little Nell!'
He stepped across towards her, his arms outstretched, but she backed away behind a chair. 'Go, now, or I'll change my mind! And if you come pestering me or Mrs Bliss, I'll go straight to the police!'
He hesitated, and then shrugged. 'Won't even give yer old Pa a farewell kiss! Too la-di-da now! It's yer loss, me little beauty!'
*
It was Timothy's last evening in Paris. 'I hate leaving you, Gwyneth,' he said. 'Are you absolutely sure you won't come with me?'
'I've no particular desire to go to South Africa,' she replied. 'Besides, you'll be back in a few weeks. Now your uncle has decided to make you his heir, you just have some papers to sign, I thought?'
'Yes, but then I have to go home to England and sort things out there. No more delectable little suppers in Paris for us! I have to be prepared to spend at least half the year in South Africa.'
'Where no doubt your uncle will have a suitable girl ready for your inspection. You say he wants you to marry soon.'
Timothy groaned. 'Gwyneth, don't! You know I don't want to marry. Especially I don't want to marry some prim child the family considers suitable. Not for years yet, anyway. Life's too much fun. Or at least it would be if you came with me to South Africa!'
'Where you would have to keep me hidden from your uncle? No thank you, Timothy!'
'Darling, you know how it is with me! I can't marry you, but the way you refuse to move in with me, even to have a weekend in Monte Carlo, makes it look as though you're playing hard to get, with marriage the price!'
Gwyneth laughed. 'Oh, Timothy! Why do you imagine every girl wants nothing else except marriage? I want to dance, that's why I won't leave Paris. And I won't come to bed with you because, much as I enjoy being with you, and we have had fun, I don't love you! I'd have to love a man desperately to marry him,' she added almost to herself.
*
Reorganising the dancing school occupied Nell completely for the next few weeks, and she found that gradually the horror of Frank's murder receded. It wasn't that she forgot it, or excused her father's part in it, more that she was so busy she had no time to dwell on it.
'I've found the perfect site for the new building, on the Hagley Road,' Nell announced. 'Come with me and look at it, then we can talk to the builders.' Another time it was 'How do you like this design for a new rehearsal uniform?' and again 'How many more classes should we aim for if we employ another teacher?'
Gradually, as she and Edwina became closer, Nell's sense of fun returned, and she frequently reduced Edwina to tears of laughter as she aped some of the people they dealt with, especially those who seemed to believe that women were incapable of doing business.
In between teaching, for the old classes still had to continue, and they had a couple of charity shows planned, training the new, extended line of girls, and talking over her plans with a energetic, increasingly confident Edwina, Nell had no time to brood. She was brusque with Tom when he appeared on her doorstep offended she was not ready to drop everything and go with him on a Sunday picnic.
'I've bought a car,' he said, aggrieved. 'I thought you would like to have a drive in it.'
Nell sighed. 'I would, Tom,' she said untruthfully, 'but I really don't have time. Besides, it's only March and a really cold day.'
'But Mother put up the picnic basket specially!'
'You should have asked me first to make sure I could go,' she snapped, irritated at his complacent assumption that he had only to appear and she would at once fall in with his wishes.
'When will you have time?' he asked, rather sulkily. 'Nell, I know I behaved badly about Kitty, but surely you knew what she was like? It didn't mean anything. It was nothing to what I feel for you. I was hoping we could start again.'
She shook her head. 'I'm sorry, Tom. It's no good.'
'I won't give up,' he promised, turning away. 'I know what I want, and it's what you want deep down. One day you'll recognise it, and then we shall forget all this nonsense about dancing.'
A week later he came again. 'Nell, I need to talk to you about your father. Have you time just for a short ride in my car?'
She was suspicious, but she did not dare refuse. If he had somehow discovered anything about her father's part in Frank's murder she had to know. 'Just for a short while, then. I'll fetch my coat, it's still cold.'
'Your brother Ned, he's joined an odd sort of religous brotherhood,' he began, after solicitously helping her into the car. He steered the car carefully into the Hagley Road and headed towards Bearwood.
'Yes, I know. It's Florence, his wife. She joined it first. What's that to do with Pa?'
'This brotherhood,' Tom was not to be hurried, 'they disapprove of all alcohol and tobacco and bright clothing. They don't sing, they have no worship as such, just go round in the streets preaching and begging for alms.'
'How do they use them?' Nell asked, intrigued in spite of herself. 'Do they run homes or a charity?'
'No one is really sure. But your father has been seen with them.'
Nell shrugged. 'I can't imagine him doing without his beer! I'm sure he has relapses.' In fact she knew he did, she thought, shuddering, as he had on the night he'd killed Frank.
'He doesn't seem to be drunk. But he's collecting money, and last night he came to our house and said you'd sent him, told him I'd give him a big donation.'
'I did nothing of the kind! Tom, surely you wouldn't believe I'd do that? Besides, I haven't seen him for weeks!'
'I thought it wasn't true.'
'Did you give him anything?'
'Of course not. He was abusive, but when I threatened to call the police he calmed down at once and went away.' He would, Nell thought. Of course he would. And joining his sect was probably the price he had to pay for his room in Florence's home. 'Nell, now we've come this far, I want to show you something.'
They were passing the junction with Lordswood Road, and soon afterwards he turned left and drew up in front of a neat terraced house with deep square bay windows.
'What is it? You know someone who lives here?' she asked, bewildered.
'I'm planning to buy it,' he told her proudly. 'Mother wants to go further out into the country, and she's looking for a house in Moseley or Yardley. She suggested that you might have refused me because you didn't want to live in another woman's house, and the answer was for me to buy a house of my own. I can afford it. I'm earning good money with the union, and Father will help me. Well, would you like to see inside?'
'No! Tom, I don't want to marry you, even if you have a dozen houses! Why don't you listen?'
'You don't know what you want,' he replied calmly. 'Women never do. That's why they need hus
bands to guide them.'
'That's utter rot! I am managing perfectly well without a husband, Tom, and I intend to go on doing so! Now take me back or I will get out of this car and walk home!'
*
'Er, excusez-moi, Mademoiselle, mais je cherche Miss Davis, Miss Gwyneth Davis.'
Kitty glanced round, pausing on the step. 'Can I help you?'
'Oh, you speak English! How convenient! My French is a little rusty, I haven't had much opportuunity to travel of late years – the cares of a family, you know. I am looking for Miss Davis. Is this the hostel where the – dancers – live?'
'Yes,' she replied slowly. She wondered what he wanted. He didn't look the usual prosperous middle-aged swain who haunted the stage-door, and anyway Gwyneth was boringly devoted to her work; she didn't have swains. You couldn't count Timothy, who was merely amusing himself with her until such time as he looked seriously for someone of whom his family would approve, a girl fit to marry.
'I wonder if you could tell her someone wishes to see her?'
'We are not permitted gentlemen visitors,' she informed him primly, and smiled inwardly as he coloured. 'She'll be back from rehearsal soon, though. If you wait here you're bound to catch her.' She nodded affably and passed through the door. She would have been interested to wait and watch the encounter, but she was going out with a new admirer, and he was so rich he'd even offered to buy her an apartment in the Champs Elysées, so she did not want to risk offending him by keeping him waiting. Perhaps she ought to go back and warn Gwyneth? It was only a very short distance. Then she looked at her new watch, gold encrusted with diamonds, a present tucked into the first bouquet her admirer had sent to the dressing room together with his invitation to supper, and decided she didn't have time.
Ten minutes later Gwyneth walked towards the hostel. The man stepped forward, and without speaking grasped her fiercely by the arm.
'What the – Father!'
'Yes, my dear, though I am ashamed to call you daughter. I have tracked you down at last, and you are coming home with me today.'
Gwyneth was pale, almsot incapable of speech, but at this she shook her head vehemently. 'I can't! I won't!'
'It's no use being defiant, girl! You are under age and you need my permission to work here. If you can call such vile, disgraceful exhibitionism working!'
'I am dancing here, nothing more wicked than that!' she protested, but her heart had sunk and she knew that only a miracle would save her. Her father had the law on his side and he would never give in. It wouldn't be possible for her to continue working at the Folies even if she could elude him now. She would have to wait for her twenty-first birthday, when he would have no more power over her. 'You ought to come and see us dance before you condemn us!' she tried. 'It's unjust to say we are bad without knowing what we do!'
'I do not have to wallow in filth to know that it is filth! I've seen the harlots parading in the Rue Richer, I don't need to see the ones inside! You have betrayed your upbringing and caused your mother unbearable pain and shame, but there is still time for sinners to repent, and I mean to wrest the devil from your soul!'
'The hostel where we live is run by an English Minister,' she said desperately. 'Surely you cannot accuse him of being a sinner?'
'More shame for a man of the cloth to bring such infamy on the Church!'
'You are uncharitable!'
'I do what is right, and you have shown you are not fitted to distinguish good from evil. Now go and pack your trunks, I have tickets on the late train.'
*
Nell was puzzled when weeks passed and she received no more letters from Gwyneth, even though she made time to write at least a page every week. She felt isolated, quite out of touch, despite the pressures of reorganising the dancing school. Kitty had never bothered to write, all the news Nell had of her came from Gwyneth. She'd seen Timothy briefly in the centre of the city and he'd said he was off to South Africa again. She'd never been especially friendly with him, but as one of the crowd he was a familiar face and she would miss him. Andrew was on tour, having formed another dance band. Even Marigold had taken her children to stay with their grandmother during the Easter holidays, when Dick was home from school. There was Tom, increasingly persistent, but she was determined to avoid him. And although she saw Paul occasionally, at Endersby's or as they met walking along the street, she could not persuade herself he would want to spend time with her. Even if he did she would feel too uncomfortable, knowing how unworthy she was. Then Andrew suddenly reappeared in Birmingham. If she hadn't hoped he might have some news she would not have given him so warm a welcome, but it was well over six months since he had made love to her, less since they had worked together. He had never again attempted to be alone with her and she decided lunch with him at the Grand would do no harm.
'I'm off to London next week to discuss a new project,' he told her, full of enthusiasm.
'Tell me.' Andrew had the most amazing capacity to start afresh, she thought. In the short time she'd known him he had been involved in so many different schemes she had lost count. When one failed, or he got bored, he simply shrugged his shoulders and went on to something else. She suspected he had the same attitude towards women.
'I've been invited to do a tour in America,' he announced proudly.
'Andrew, that's marvellous!'
'It is rather exciting. It's not finalised yet, there are lots of details to sort out, and the programme, the venues, have to be acceptable. That's what I have to discuss. I don't suppose you feel like a few days in London? Can't you forgive me and be friends?'
She laughed and shook her head. 'I thought I had forgiven you, but I don't want to go to bed with you, Andrew! I've never been to London, but I'm far too busy.'
'What with? Just dancing?'
'Lots more. I'm helping Edwina now. We have so many plans, and I'm involved with them. We want to train a big troupe, but so far we haven't got all the right girls, and we need to keep the ones we have got working.'
'It must be tricky fitting in their engagements and the first rehearsals.'
'Yes, it is. We have to keep them near Birmingham and some of the others resent it.'
'I was sorry to hear about Frank, by the way. You were with him, I understand? That must have been ghastly for you.'
'It was. I'd rather not talk about it, please.'
'Fine. What dancing are you doing? You seem to be doing a lot of organising now.'
'I'm getting quite out of practice, but I can't go away for long tours. We're planning to do some charity shows, and while it won't pay it will advertise us.'
'Nell, why don't you come with me to America? I love you, you know, and I'd wait until you were willing to trust me again.'
She stared at him in astonishment. 'America?'
'Don't look so disbelieving! Why not? If you want to dance you would be bound to get taken on by the Zeigfield Follies in New York, and most of my appearances would be in New York and New England. We could be together for much of the time.'
For a few minutes she was tempted. She could get away from Tom, try to forget Paul, start afresh. She would still need Pa's permission but now she could force him to sign the letter by threatening to inform the police about his killing of Frank. The school was running well by now and Edwina didn't really need her, she had many excellent dancers who could take her place. Then she knew she could not cheat Andrew. It was clear he expected them to live together, but she could not love him. Even though he had made a whore of her she would go to no man without love. Insidiously the thought crossed her mind that she did not need Andrew. Why had she not thought before about her hold over Pa? If they wanted her still at the Folies-Bergère there was no barrier to her getting his permission. She would ask Edwina to make enquiries straight away.
*
The next charity performance took place at Endersby's. Marigold organised the event as soon as she returned from her holiday with the children and their grandparents, inviting her wealthiest customers t
o a reception followed by the performance. Andrew was back in Birmingham, having completed the arrangements for his tour of America later in the year, and offered to play as well. The tickets were all sold within days, and they were sure of raising a very respectable sum for the city's children.
'There's still time to come to America with me,' Andrew said to Nell as they waited to go on stage. 'I'm going in the autumn now.'
'No, Andrew. It wouldn't do,' she said. 'I have other plans.' He frowned, and began to speak but Nell shushed him impatiently. 'It's my cue! Be quiet!'
For the first number the girls, dressed in floating white dresses, danced an introduction. Nell, wearing a circular black velvet cloak lined with white silk, the corners looped to her wrists, which opened to reveal a flame red costume clinging tightly to her body, would burst onto the stage and do her solo dance against the swaying background of the white. It was a spectacular vision, one of Edwina's innovations, simple but effective. Nell listened intently, knowing she had to time it precisely for greatest effect, and then she was on doing a series of cartwheels across the floor with the cloak revolving round behind her, then whirling horizontal to the floor as she spun in a dizzying sequence of steps before flinging the cloak aside to do some more elaborate acrobatic dancing.
There was a spontaneous eruption of applause which died as the audience concentrated, then the dance was over when Nell sank to the ground, the girls bringing the cloak to spread about her.
Instead of high-kicking their way off stage as they usually did, they drew Nell to her feet and formed a line which she led round the edge of the ballroom floor. She hesitated infinitesimally as she saw Paul smiling at her, and then passed on, blaming her rapidly beating heart on her exertions, not the sudden unexpected sight of him.
She hadn't expected him to be there. He had not made any attempt to contact her since the night he had driven her home, and in her irrationally guilty state she had wondered whether he knew her secrets. She had been glad he kept out of her way, she told herself, but she wanted to see him. It was all too confusing and she must change quickly for the next number.
The Glowing Hours Page 30