‘Instead you found it was just like everywhere else,’ said Dorinda with a sigh.
‘More or less.’ Maude looked up and gave her a crooked grin. ‘It’ s not so bad, really – although we do seem to have got into trouble a few times, don’t we?’
‘Oh, we have, Maudie, we have.’ Dorinda sighed again. ‘And all since you met me.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘What do you know about it?’ Maude repeated. ‘Who told you?’
‘I asked Ada. The inspector had been to warn her – and the company – that the boy was missing.’
‘Why? What’s it got to do with us?” said Maude in surprise.
‘That’s what Ada said – because we haven’t got any boys, and I said, well, you didn’t have boys in music hall or concert parties. So, then she told me. Reluctantly, but she told me. That’s what I suddenly thought of while Jessie was doing her Urchin number.’
Maude frowned. ‘What do you mean? Men might want her because she dresses up?’
‘Well, yes.’ Dorinda felt the heat creeping into her cheeks again. ‘I don’t know what they like, or want, and I don’t even want to think about it, but it makes a sort of sense.’
‘What about her step-pa? He was against her, wasn’t he?’ Maude looked puzzled. ‘Oh – wait! But he attacked her...’
‘Exactly. He wasn’t what he pretended to be at all, was he? Remember, Aramantha identified him as the man who frightened her, too.’ Dorinda looked thoughtful. ‘And that’s odd, too, because if she was in those – what did you call them? – Night Houses, she must have known...’ she looked quickly at Maude and then away again, ‘well, she must have. Mustn’t she?’
‘Oh, she knew all right. As I said, remember what she and that Velda used to get up to.’
‘So she must have been scared of something else,’ said Dorinda. ‘Is that why she’s run away now?’
‘Well,’ said Maude, standing up, ‘let’s hope she ’as run away, or else she’s been taken.’
Dorinda went slowly back to the piano ready to start the second half, waiting while the audience filtered in to resume their seats. She found herself scrutinising them far more closely than usual, especially the men, and at the end of the show she made sure she was in the foyer ready to see them all out. Maude raised her eyebrows but made no comment until she had shut the doors on the last customer.
‘What was that about?’ she asked.
‘I just wanted to see what they were like.’ Dorinda went into the office. ‘And now I’m going to go to Fat Aggie’s to get the pies.’
‘You? Why?’
‘I need a breath of air.’
‘Not you! Come on, what is it?’ Maude planted herself in front of the office door.
Dorinda turned to face her. ‘I want to see if those women are still there, and to see if Aggie’s heard any more about that missing boy.’
‘I could do that.’
‘I know you could.’ Dorinda took off her tall hat and shook out her hair. ‘But I want to go.’
‘All right, but don’t go getting into mischief,’ said Maude reluctantly.
Dorinda burst out laughing. ‘I’ll try not to, mother!’
Fat Aggie’s shop was a faithful recreation of her family’s London pie and mash shop; it served nearly the same food without the heavy emphasis on eels, as surprisingly, down here on the coast, they were not as plentiful as they were in London. Dorinda loved it, not least because it was the very last place a lady would be expected to be seen.
Fat Aggie greeted her cheerfully. ‘Don’t often see you ’ere, love. ’Ow are yer?’
Dorinda smiled. ‘I’m well, Aggie. How are you?’
‘Apart from me feet, I’m grand. The usual is it?’
‘Yes, please. And I wanted to ask you a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.’
Aggie looked at her shrewdly. ‘About them Bible thumpers, is it? Cor, they don’t ’arf put off trade.’
‘Well, partly. They were around again this morning -and I thought the police had sent them packing after the murder.’
Aggie shrugged. ‘Not seen ’em this afternoon. Course, some o’ them were local – coulda gone ’ome.’
‘Local?’ Dorinda was surprised. ‘Weren’t they all from London?’
‘Nah. Only them ringleaders, like. The bloke wot got done and ’is two women. Women! Ha!’ Aggie snorted. ‘Two dried-up ol’ prunes, they was.’
‘Oh, I see. So where did all the others come from?’
‘Round and about. Always be folk ’appy to join in, won’t there?’
‘Yes,’ said Dorinda, ‘but a couple of my customers said they’d seen them in London outside the Music Halls.’
‘Same people?’
‘Well, I thought that’s what they meant, but I suppose they might have meant just people protesting.’
‘Like them at ‘Yde Park.’ Aggie burst into fat chuckles. ‘Cor – should ’ear some o’ them! Or p’raps you ’ave?’
‘No, but I wish I had.’ Dorinda started counting out money on to Aggie’s high marble counter. ‘I used to live in London.’
‘I know yer did, luvvie. With Ivy and Sir Freddie, an’ that poor Mrs Shepherd.’
‘I realise now there was a lot I didn’t understand about the world then.’ Dorinda looked up at Aggie’s smiling face. ‘But I bet you do! Have you heard any more about that missing child?’
Aggie’s face immediately became solemn. ‘’E ain’t bin found.’
‘I don’t know much about it,’ said Dorinda. ‘It was a boy, wasn’t it? Was he a holidaymaker?’
‘Nah. Joe Briggs’s boy.’
‘Joe Briggs?’
‘Fishin’. Boy goes with ’im.’ Aggie shook her head. ‘Sleeps in the nettin’ shed when ’is dad’s ’ad a few.’
‘Oh, poor child! How old is he?’
‘I dunno – could be ten, twelve.’
‘When was he found to be missing?’
‘Joe went to wake ’im up this morning to go out on the tide an’’e weren’ t there. No sign of ’im.’ Aggie shook her head again. ‘I reckon ’e’s run orf.’
‘You don’t think someone would have taken him, then?’
‘Taken ’im?’ scoffed Aggie. ‘Wot for? Joe ain’t got no money.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ Dorinda felt vaguely ashamed of what she had been thinking. Why would one boy be taken down here in Nethergate, where there were no Night Houses... or were there? She realised that what she had said earlier about not understanding the world was right. She knew nothing about whatever underworld Nethergate had.
She paid Aggie, picked up her warm, savoury-smelling parcel and left the shop, pausing to stand by the railings to look down on the beach. All she knew about her adopted town was what she had been allowed to see by her protectors. First Maude, Will, and the Wanderers, then Sir Frederick, Ivy and Mrs Shepherd, and then Maude and Will again. She saw nothing that didn’t pertain to the running of The Alexandria, saw no one who wasn’t connected to it in some way – the concert party itself, the Anderson household and those on the periphery of her life: the landladies, the tradesmen and women, and the policemen. During the winter, she gave piano lessons at her lodgings and performed at the occasional party, such as the one at Anderson Place. She never went to parties herself, or socialised in any way, and for the first time for some years she suddenly wondered what she might have been missing. Perhaps she might be more in touch with the town and its people – Maude, Will, and Aggie obviously were. She also realised with a slight shock that she didn’t even know what was going on in her own business, as had been amply demonstrated over the last two seasons. She had now been made aware of some of the less palatable fringes, and the revelations had made her aware of how unfitted her former life had made her for this one. No wonder everyone was so shocked on meeting her for the first time.
The smell of the pies brought her back to the present and she turned and walked slowly back to The Alexandria. Perhaps she really ought t
o think about leaving the business? But what would she do? Piano lessons and the odd party would not make enough money to keep her, and what about The Alexandrians? The company, and the building itself. She had talked grandly to Maude about installing proper seating and perhaps even a gallery. Was she ready to give that up?
As she paused at the top of the slope and looked down at The Alexandria, its cupola gleaming in the late afternoon sun, she knew she wasn’t. She would just have to find a way to keep more up to date with all aspects of her chosen business, including the less savoury elements, and possibly be more wary about whom she allowed in – both to the company and her life. She must try and take part more in the life of her town. Perhaps even go to London for the winter, as all the others did.
As if the thought had conjured him up, she wasn’t surprised to see Jack Colyer come out of the big front doors. He stood waiting as she slowly descended the slope.
‘Collecting the supper?’ he asked as she drew level with him. ‘I thought Maude did that.’
‘I wanted to speak to Fat Aggie.’
‘Fat Aggie?’
‘It’s her pie shop. It’s lovely,’ said Dorinda wistfully.
‘You want to own a pie shop, now?’ said Colyer, sounding amused.
‘No, of course not.’ Dorinda lifted her chin. ‘I must take these in. I gather you wanted to talk to me Or perhaps Jessie and the girls?’
‘You, mainly.’ Colyer opened the door for her. ‘Shall I wait here?’
‘You can wait for me in the office. The door isn’t locked.’
Dorinda took the pies to the dressing room area, then took one out for herself and wrapped it in a piece of the greaseproof paper. When she returned to the office, it was to find Colyer standing by the window and Ivy seated before the desk, Maude standing beside her.
‘They were already here,’ said Colyer.
‘Ivy?’ Dorinda went to her seat behind the desk. ‘Is something the matter?’
‘Amy and me wanted to know what’s going on,’ said Ivy. ‘You ‘’ eard – heard – any more from Aramantha?’
‘You think she’s run away, too?’ said Dorinda, glancing over at Colyer.
‘Well, she ain’t bin took – hasn’t been taken,’ said Ivy, her accent betraying her agitation.
‘What do you think has happened to her, Lady Ivy?’ asked Colyer, coming forward to the edge of the desk.
‘I dunno. She would’na gone back, would she?’
‘To where she was working in London? I thought she ran away from there, though?’
‘She did,’ said Dorinda. ‘But it wasn’t the place itself, it was one of the men – I told you.’
‘But she identified the murder victim here as that person,’ said Colyer. ‘Might she have decided it was safe to go back?’
The four of them looked at each other in puzzlement.
‘But she was so scared,’ said Dorinda eventually. ‘Really panic-stricken. Would just one man have done that? Besides, she said...’ She stopped. She couldn’t repeat what Aramantha had said. She didn’t even really understand it herself.
Maude nodded. ‘Makes it even more strange really, doesn’t it Dolly?’
‘What?’ Ivy turned and looked up at Maude, who indicated the inspector with a jerk of her head.
‘I’ve heard it all before, ladies,’ he said with a slight smile, ‘but if you want to explain, Maude – Mrs Beddowes -I’ll step outside.’
‘So what did she say to you, Dolly?’ asked Maude, as soon as the door closed behind him.
‘She said...’ She paused. ‘She said he couldn’t. Just that – he couldn’t.’
Ivy nodded wisely. ‘Get it up. That’s what she meant, didn’t she, Maudie?’
‘That’s it, dear. And it’s exactly what young Jessie told me, too.’
‘She didn’t say anything to me!’ protested Dorinda.
‘Look, luvvie.’ Ivy leant forward and took one of Dorinda’s hands across the desk. ‘Course she wouldn’t. You’re different. Class, see? There are some things they can’t tell you.’
Once again, it flashed across Dorinda’s mind how deeply out of her depth she was in this business.
‘Can you tell the inspector that? I think he ought to know,’ she said eventually. ‘I gather it means he couldn’t – er – he couldn’t...’
‘Rape her,’ Ivy finished for her succinctly.
‘Yes,’ said Dorinda, feeling her face flaming.
‘Tell you what,’ said Maude decisively, ‘I’ll get Will to tell him. I’ll just go and fetch him.’
Ivy and Dorinda looked at each other helplessly after she’d gone.
‘What difference do you think it makes?’ asked Dorinda. ‘What was the inspector here for, anyway?’
‘Don’t you know?’
‘He just said he wanted to speak to me. I asked if he wanted the girls – Jessie in particular – but he said mainly me.’
‘And what,’ asked Ivy shrewdly, ‘have you been doing to make him mad this time?’
‘Nothing. I’ve been asking if people know anything about this boy that’s disappeared – did you know about that?’
‘No – what boy?’
‘I asked Fat Aggie. She said it’s a local fisherman’s boy, maybe ten years old. I couldn’t help thinking about those boys -’ She stopped, unable to go on.
‘And ’ow did you find out about ’em?’ asked Ivy.
‘I asked Ada. The inspector had been to see her and warned her. I wanted to know why.’
‘And she told yer!’ Ivy was angry, her accent slipping. ‘I’ll kill ’er!’
‘She couldn’t refuse to tell me, could she?‘
‘But you’re not – what I mean ter say, is, well...’
‘I don’t belong here,’ said Dorinda bluntly. ‘That’s the point, isn’t it?’
Ivy’s jaw dropped.
‘I’ve been thinking about it since this morning,’ continued Dorinda. ‘I realised how I’ve been protected from real life ever since that business...’
‘When you ran away,’ said Ivy, back in control of herself.
‘Yes. And how I’ve had protection ever since. You and Sir Freddie, Will and Maude – you’ve all protected me, and it wasn’t until last year, first with Velda and Aramantha and then with Amy, that I began to see the -’ she searched for a word.
‘Real world,’ Ivy finished for her. ‘You’re right. You’re a different class, see. Oh, we all get used to it in the men -they can slum it with the best of us – but the women don’t. Unless you’re born into that class – like me, f’r instance -you won’t understand it.’
Dorinda nodded sadly. ‘That’s what I was thinking. Perhaps I should give it all up.’
‘What?’ Ivy looked horrified. ‘Don’t you bloody dare!’
‘But if I don’t understand it -’
‘Look – there’s no need for you to understand what goes on with all the pimps and villains, is there? As long as me and Maudie and Will’s around. We know – proved it, haven’t we – and we can make sure it don’t touch you or The Alexandria. Can’t say we done much good this time, but at least we got young Jessie outta the way.’
‘Did we, though?’ said Dorinda. ‘It looks as though her stepfather, or whoever he was, followed her down here anyway and then got murdered here.’
‘Yeah – but why?’ said Ivy. ‘If he couldn’t get it up -beggin’ yer pardon, Dolly – why did ’e bother?’ Ivy’s accent had slipped right back into the East End now. She was on familiar ground.
‘Come to that,’ said Dorinda, ‘why did he even bother to try again? If he – he couldn’t.’
‘Always thought it’d be better next time?’ suggested Ivy. ‘Yer never know, do yer?’
Maude came back into the office, her colour slightly heightened, followed by Will and Inspector Colyer.
‘Turns out we needn’t have bothered, Dolly,’ said Maude. ‘Seems he already knew.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘I spoke with them bot
h, Miss Alexander, if you remember. They were less inhibited with me than they were with you.’ Colyer resumed his place at the window.
Dorinda put her head in her hands. ‘Oh, God,’ she said. ‘See, Ivy? I told you.’
‘See what?’ asked Maude.
‘Don’t matter, Maudie,’ said Ivy sharply. ‘Bein’ silly, that’s all.’
Silence fell, until Ivy said briskly, ‘that pie’ll be stone cold, Dolly. You better eat up and get changed.’
Everyone moved, except the inspector.
‘I need a word with Miss Alexander if you don’t mind,’ he said, ushering the other three out of the office. ‘I won’t keep her long.’
Dorinda eyed him nervously.
‘What do you want?’ she asked when he had closed the door behind an obviously reluctant Maude.
‘To explain something to you.’ He took up his familiar perch on the edge of the desk.
‘What?’
He looked down at his clasped hands. ‘Sometimes it’s difficult to put it into plain words.’
Dorinda sighed. ‘Because I don’t fit into this world?’ He looked startled. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because it has been borne in upon me very forcibly today.’ Dorinda stared past him and out of the window. ‘In fact, I was discussing with Lady Ivy just now the possibility of leaving The Alexandria.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘But what would you do?’ he asked eventually.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Tell me why. What happened today that made you feel this way?’
‘I went to see Ada this morning.’ Dorinda brought her eyes back to him. ‘After you had been to see her.’
‘Yes?’ His face tightened.
‘You told both of us about the missing child. Well, Constable Robert actually told me – and he didn’t know why, either. So, I asked Ada and she explained about what happens in London.’ She dropped her eyes.
‘Did she now.’
‘And I thought... I wondered... well, Jessie performs as a boy...’
He was quiet for so long, Dorinda thought she might have offended him. At last, he spoke.
‘There are, unfortunately, some people who have a taste for that sort of thing.’ He paused. ‘Both men and women.’
Death Treads the Boards Page 9