The Glowing Hours

by Marina Oliver

  The entire show was a great success but Nell hesitated before she went into the ballroom afterwards to join the guests and receive their congratulations. She needed to compose herself before she met Paul. The rest of the girls were eager to go, and soon Nell was alone. When a light tap came on the door she started to her feet, suddenly aware that she had not changed from her final costume, which had a short skirt sewn with feathers, and feathers wired to form a high collar or ruff.

  The door opened and Andrew came in. 'Good, I thought you might be alone, darling. I came to congratulate you. You must take that costume to New York, you'll be sensational. The red one too, that's even more enticing!'

  Before Nell could move he had pulled her into his arms. 'Why the devil have you kept away from me?' he demanded.

  'Andrew, let me go!' There was panic in her voice as she struggled, but he had her at a disadvantage and she could hardly move.

  'I'll never let you go again! I was a fool to lose you before.'

  As he bent to kiss her the door closed sharply. Andrew cursed, looked up, and then swung Nell round so that they both faced the door. Paul was standing inside it.

  'I believe Nell asked you to release her, Andrew,' he said evenly.

  Andrew, his face flushed, grinned and hugged Nell closer.

  'You needn't worry, old man! She likes it rough. It's a pose to pretend she's reluctant. Were you taken in? Is that why she turned to me? When you overcome that sham modesty she's a real hot little piece of flesh!'

  Nell was never certain exactly what happened next. She didn't know whether Paul pushed her aside as he stepped forward, or whether Andrew did. She heard Andrew's laugh turn into a choking gasp, as Paul's fist shot out and connected with Andrew's jaw. She screamed as Andrew, stepping back, tripped on a costume draped carelessly across a chair. Then he was lying on the floor, cursing and muttering, while Paul stood menacingly over him.

  *

  'You'll sign the letter or I go to the police!'

  Pa complained and resisted, but Nell was implacable. She had come to her brother's house at a time when she knew Ned and Florence paid their weekly Sunday visit to her family, and discovered Pa nursing a bottle which smelled strongly of whisky.

  'I thought you'd signed the pledge?' she asked scornfully.

  'I did, but 'ow's a man ter keep 'is spirits up when 'is daughter turns agin 'im, shames 'im afore 'is mates showing off 'er legs, an' more. No better'n a drab, though yer wears fine feathers.'

  'Sign the letter, or as well as going to the police I'll tell Florence about this. Then she'd certainly throw you out, if the police didn't come for you first!'

  Clutching the precious permission she went gleefully back to tell Edwina. She hadn't seen Paul or Andrew after the previous evening's fracas. Paul had thrown her coat round her and bundled her out of the room with a hasty apology, and she had avoided the guests and gone straight home. When she went to collect her abandoned clothes the next morning Edwina told her she'd heard there was a vacancy in the Folies troupe which Nell could have as long as she reached France by the following Saturday.

  She wanted to go, and that way she would avoid both Andrew and Paul. Edwina, pleased for her, had made light of finding other girls to take her place.

  'Of course it won't be the same, but you deserve your chance after the last disappointment. If you think your father will relent you mustn't consider me. But I do hope you can do the big charity show on Monday first. You can take the boat train on Tuesday and give yourself a few days in Paris before starting work. I want you to do the cloak dance once more. No one else is remotely capable of doing it well enough.'

  'Of course, and I've never been to London. It will be easier to travel with the troupe, find out where to go.'

  Now all she had to do was tell Edwina she had the letter, and pack her trunk. She was thankful she didn't have time to think. Within days she would be with Gwyneth, and discover why her friend had not written for so long.

  *

  The show was in a huge theatre in the east end of London. Several dancing troupes were taking part, as well as other artistes. Nell's troupe, with the cloak dance routine, were to conclude the first half.

  'Those children, they make such a noise!' Edwina muttered as she checked that the girls were all prepared.

  'I wonder how many of them go to dancing classes and want to become dancers?' Nell mused.

  'They aren't all from classes,' Edwina explained. 'It was decided to invite some of the poor children whom the charity supports. I think it was to fill up the unsold seats,' she added softly. 'Now girls, after the juggler finishes you're on. Are you ready?'

  They nodded nervously. They were fairly new, most of them, and mainly provided the simple backing for Nell. When they had more experience they could be moved to other troupes as appropriate. None of them had performed in such a large theatre before, but the rehearsal had been good and Edwina and Nell inspired confidence.

  The juggler came off to loud applause, the dance music began, and the dancers were on stage. Nell concentrated on her cue, and then she was on, doing her cartwheels then whirling around with her cloak spinning too. In the excitement of this no one noticed a disturbance in the auditorium until there was a shrill scream.

  'Nell! Nell!'

  Nell halted abruptly, and as the dancers and the orchestra came to a ragged halt, she peered through the footlights.

  'Nell! It's me, Amy!'

  ***

  Chapter 23

  Nell flew down the steps at the side of the stage and gathered Amy to her. 'Amy! is it really you? Let me look at you! Where've you been? How on earth did you get here?'

  The child was sobbing and hiccupping, unable to speak, and clinging so fiercely to Nell her rough, bitten nails dug deep into Nell's shoulders.

  'Bring her through here,' a quiet voice interposed, and Nell looked up, dazed, coming back to reality. Seeing row upon row of faces, avid with either curiosity or disapproval, turned towards her she flushed, hastily picked Amy up, and allowed herself to be guided by the stage manager through the pass door into the blessed obscurity of backstage.

  'It's my sister,' she explained breathlessly. 'My sister, Amy. She disappeared, in Birmingham, over a year ago. No one knew what had happened to her.'

  Edwina was beside her. 'Can we find a room where this can be sorted out?' she asked. 'And what about the dancing?'

  The stage manager glanced at Nell. 'Will you be able to dance if we have the interval now?'

  She was shaking, but with happiness. 'I – yes, in a few minutes,' she assured him. 'The show must go on. Edwina, I'm so sorry! I just didn't know what I was doing, hearing Amy like that!'

  'Then I'll explain to the audience and hope they will be understanding. Here, this room is empty, take the child in there for a few moments, and then I'm sure she'll want to see you dance.'

  'Please stay, Edwina,' Nell asked as Edwina stepped back. 'Now, Amy, tell me what happened to you.'

  Amy spoke, hesitantly, her voice hoarse. 'Pa – was mad at me. Said 'e'd make me tell 'im where yer was. I ran off an' two ladies found me. Stayed wi' them, then they went away an' took me ter big 'ouse with lots o' kids. Then another 'ouse.'

  There was a hesitant knock on the door and Edwina went to open it.

  'Excuse me, is the child in here? I'm the matron of the Barnardo's home which has been looking after her.'

  Nell smiled at her, her eyes glistening. 'Please come in! She's just been telling me how she was lost. None of us knew where she was. Why didn't she tell you where she lived?'

  The woman, dressed in grey, came further into the room. 'For some reason she wouldn't, or couldn't, speak. The doctors could find nothing wrong, and decided it was the result of some sort of shock. It seems they were right if she's been talking to you. And I heard her. Her name is Amy, I think she said?'

  'Yes, Amy Baxter. I'm her oldest sister, Nell. Thank you all so much for looking after her, I'm so relieved she's been all right. We thought – thought
she was dead.'

  The stage manager came back in. 'That's that. The audience seem to be enjoying the sensation, rather than being annoyed. I think it would be best if the child goes into one of the boxes. Maybe you, Madam, would go with her?' he suggested, looking at the Matron.

  Amy shook her head vehemently. 'Want ter stay with Nell.'

  'Darling, I must get ready to do the dance. Don't you want to see it? Afterwards I'll come straight to you, or you'll come back here, and you can come back to Birmingham with me.'

  Edwina looked up sharply and the Matron began to shake her head, but before either of them could speak the stage manager cut in.

  'We've only a few minutes, it's a short interval and we must get the child settled and warn the dancers.'

  'Please, Amy? Afterwards we can be together all the time.'

  A reluctant Amy was led away and Nell, her cloak restored to her from where she had dropped it on the stage, rejoined the troupe, all eager to ask what had happened.

  'It was my sister, she's been missing for over a year,' Nell said briefly. 'Now please, let me concentrate! I can't think about the dance, but I must! I've forgotten all the steps!'

  The dancers received warm applause at the start of their act, and Nell, seemingly inspired, danced better than ever before. When she sank into the final crumpled heap the applause was deafening and continued long after they had left the stage.

  'They want an encore,' the stage manager whispered, but Nell shook her head.

  'I must go to my sister. I'll change first, then we'll be ready to go.'

  It was only then that she realised and turned a stricken face to Edwina. 'I was going to Paris tomorrow,' she whispered.

  'I wondered when you would remember it,' Edwina said drily. 'Come, let's go back to the hotel and we'll talk about it.'

  Feverishly eager to be reunited with Amy, to be sure it wasn't a dream, Nell changed in haste. Amy and the Matron were waiting for her in the same backstage room, the child having insisted she didn't want to watch the rest of the show. Nell hugged Amy close.

  'You'll soon be back home with me,' she reassured her, wondering how Amy would receive the news of the deaths of her mother and all the younger children.

  The Matron coughed. 'I'm sorry, but she is in our care. We cannot permit her to be removed until we are satisfied that there is a suitable home for her to go to.'

  *

  'I have to be with the men,' Mr Davis proclaimed. 'Their cause is just, wages are deplorably low, and they must be supported. A strike is the only possible way of making their grievances known, forcing the Government to take action.'

  'But what will happen? During the strike? If all the trains stop, I mean? Won't that inconvenience everyone?' his wife asked hesitantly.

  'We must all make sacrifices. The workers will be protected. Somehow we shall distribute food. In any case people have known about the strike for months, they have been buying a little more food each week.'

  'So a few extra tins of salmon will feed the workers until we get the pack ponies organised?' Gwyneth queried sardonically.

  'You know nothing about it Miss, and I'll thank you to remain silent. While all this has been going on you were shamelessly flaunting your body before men whose only thought was to defile you! What can you, or they, know about the real world of hardship and poverty such as our miners endure? I could tell you tales of affliction, men horrifically injured, left to beg in the streets while your depraved friends fornicate and guzzle caviar and champagne. We are fighting for a fairer world! I shall continue to do my duty, praying for hours on my knees that you will repent of your evil ways, see the light, and earn forgiveness.'

  Gwyneth shut her ears. Her father had always been a pompous bore, filled with evangelical fervour and uncompromisingly narrow minded. Since she had been forced home from Paris he never lost an opportunity of fulminating about her supposed transgressions. This was now mixed with zeal for the miners' cause, and plans he was helping to coordinate in the area for the proposed general strike. She let her thoughts wander back to her schemes for escape.

  This was amazingly difficult. She had been expecting to be treated harshly ever since he found her in Paris, but not literally to be a prisoner. He had locked her into the old nursery on the attic floor, high up and with barred windows. There could be no escape from there. She was permitted to come downstairs only when he was at home, for an hour or so each evening. She ate dinner with her parents, the only good meal of the day, and afterwards walked in the garden, screened by thick hedges, with her father. It was her only opportunity to be outside so she endured in silence the sermons on her moral corruption, ingratitude, and the dreadful fate which awaited an unregenerate sinner.

  During this hour her room was cleaned, a jug of water and some slices of bread placed there, then she was once more incarcerated for the next night and day. All she had for entertainment was a Bible and the household linen which needed mending.

  At first she had been too shattered by the abrupt ending of her dreams to care. Ater wallowing in misery for a week she forced herself to try and make plans, first for escape, and then for how she could hide until her twenty-first birthday in October, when her father could no longer control her. She had no idea how she might escape, but she had to be prepared to take whatever opportunity offered. Remembering the belt Nell had worn, in which she kept her precious patch-box, Gwyneth made a similar one from a strip of linen cut from the sheet she was turning. She didn't think even her father would notice if it was narrower than it ought to be. Fortunately he had not searched her cases when they finally reached home, declaring he had no intention of contaminating himself with the indecent garments she now appeared to prefer. In the confusion of their arrival, her father's denunciations mingling with his triumph at having snared her, her mother's lamentations and futile protests when she learned of Gwyneth's proposed imprisonment, Gwyneth had been been able to abstract and conceal the small box which held her savings.

  Now she could always carry her money with her. She also began exercising each day to keep her limbs supple and her body healthy. She had thought of simply breaking away from her father in the garden and running, but it would be fruitless. She would have to go eastwards eventually, there was nowhere to hide for more than a few days in the Pembroke peninsula. The villagers knew her and would be too afraid of her father to help. The railwaymen and the bus drivers would recognise her and tell him if she tried to leave on either train or bus. Besides, she could not reach them and get away before her escape was known, for her father could follow her in his car immediately. One day, however, he would relax his guard and she must be prepared for it.

  *

  'You must go to Paris.'

  'Edwina, I can't!' Nell swung round from staring out of the window in their small hotel sitting room. She had been pacing restlessly for hours, ever since they had returned from talking to the authorities at the Barnardo's home in Barkingside. 'I have to stay here and get Amy out of that dreadful place, she hates it so much!'

  Edwina sighed. 'I know, Nell dear. But there's nothing you can do. You have a father and four older brothers, and one of them is married. The Matron was adamant that they would never release Amy into your care alone. They insist the children go back to their parents, and houses where they will be cared for in conditions at least as good as the Barkingside home.'

  'How can they think an orphanage with so many children is better than being with someone who loves them!'

  'They mean things like proper food and clothing. And good treatment. Amy was not well dressed when she was found, and clearly terrified. Would Ned and his wife take her? He's got a safe job on the railway. Could that be the answer?'

  Nell's shoulders drooped. 'He was never interested once he got away from home. And I don't think Florence is the sort to be kind to Amy. Besides, Pa's living with them.'

  'And Amy would be terrified.'

  'I can't leave her. At least I can find a job near the orphanage and visit her as ofte
n as possible.'

  'You could visit just as easily from Birmingham, Nell. You are only allowed to visit once a month, on Saturday afternoons. If you are quite sure you won't go to Paris then stay with me. At least you'll have friends to help.'

  At last Edwina persuaded her to go to bed, but for the second night Nell tossed restlessly. How different, though, from last night when she had been full of excitement at finding Amy, feverishly making plans about providing a home for the child, and making it up to her for the long year of separation and misery. Now it seemed as though Amy was not to be released. A slow, burning anger began to consume Nell. How dare they do this to her little sister! She would fight them with every weapon she had until Amy was given into her care.

  *

  'They won't negotiate. It's all been a sham since last year,' Mr Simmons declared. 'The Samuelson Report said nothing to help, and there's only just over a week to go.'

  'So you're going to London, to the special conference next week?' Tom asked.

  'Of course. I'm going later today, there are other meetings. I know you'll be here looking after the office.'

  Tom nodded. When his father had departed he took out the letter which had come for him that morning and read it once more. What ought he to do? He still wanted Nell, despite her present way of life. His infatuation with Kitty had been a madness, and though at times he dreamed of what might have come of it, in his sober moments he recognised she was not the sort of girl who would ever have made a suitable wife. Nell, if she could be reclaimed from her obsession with dancing, would be far more suitable to a rising young union official. And now she had written to him for help. The providential reappearance of Amy seemed to have put a stop to her mad scheme to dance at the Folies-Bergère.

  He could easily do as she asked, and find out whether her father was still living with Ned. It was years since he'd been friends with Ned but it wouldn't be difficult to meet him again. Ned had always been rather simple, grateful for any attention. And he worked on the railways so Tom could pretend he sought him out to discover the real opinion of the less influential railway workers. Ned would be flattered and a few casual questions would provide the information Nell wanted. He could do it today and she would receive the answers tomorrow as she had asked. She would be grateful to him, Tom, and if he helped her now the gratitude might develop into something warmer. He reached for his hat, a new and, he felt, rather dashing grey trilby, and left the office.