by Holly Webb
“What is it?” Sarah stared at her.
“If you didn’t spill that powder, and I haven’t touched it, then someone else must have been at it, Miss!”
Sarah looked at the little jar in horror. “You think they could have done something to it?” she whispered.
“Very possibly.” Maisie dusted the powder puff lightly across the back of her hand, and then grimaced. “Itching powder. Someone mixed itching powder into the jar, Miss,” she said, holding out her hand. Tiny little red bubbles were already appearing on her skin.
“Maisie! Wash it off!” Sarah shrieked. “Quickly, before it gets worse!” She seized a cloth and started wiping the powder away. “If I’d put this on my face,” she murmured. “I can’t even imagine… I have to go, I’m on in a minute.” She hugged Maisie tightly. “Lottie told me you’d be worth your weight in gold, and you are.” She shook her head, smiling. “You’re a proper little detective, aren’t you. Do you know, I almost believe you might even find that necklace for me.”
It was very nice that Sarah believed in her, Maisie thought, as the cab rattled home through the dark streets. But how on earth was she going to find the necklace? It was likely that Sarah was right, and that it had been spirited away from the theatre long ago. But then, when the necklace was stolen, not even Sarah had known how valuable it was. Whoever had taken the jewel might well have done it to upset her, and not for its value. That would mean that there was still just a chance that it had been hidden somewhere in the theatre.
Unfortunately, though, the theatre was so full of holes and corners and possible hiding places that Maisie had no idea where to start.
The cab drew up at Albion Street, and Maisie thanked the driver, stifling her yawns, and hurried round to the back entrance through the yard. She was planning to creep in quietly and go straight to bed – it was almost midnight – but there was a light burning in the kitchen.
“Gran! You waited up for me!”
“I didn’t have much choice, Maisie. That dog of yours has been fussing as though he thought you were never coming back.”
Eddie was running round and round Maisie’s feet, jumping up and down and yapping and squeaking with excitement.
“Oh, Eddie! I’m sorry. Did you miss me?” Maisie picked him up, laughing, and he squirmed around in her arms so that he could lick her nose.
“Barking and whining… I’ve never heard him like that, Maisie. I don’t suppose you can take a dog with you to that place?” Gran asked pleadingly.
Maisie frowned. “Actually… They do have a terrible problem with mice. Miss Sarah told me one of her costumes was nibbled all round the hem once. And they’ve got traps everywhere, but I still saw a mouse in Miss Sarah’s dressing room.” She nodded thoughtfully. “I could set him to guard the dressing room, too. Someone played a horrible trick on Miss Sarah today, messing with her make-up. They couldn’t have done that if Eddie had been there. I’m sorry he kept you up, Gran.”
“Oh well…” Gran smiled into her sewing. “I might have waited up for you, anyway, Maisie.”
The next evening, Maisie was back at the theatre.
“And what do you want?”
Maisie ducked her head and tried to look shy and downtrodden as the tall girl with the shiny, dark hair stared at her snootily.
“Who are you, anyway?” Another of the chorus girls turned round and stared at her, and Maisie wondered if her cloud of reddish curls were dyed. They looked it, she thought cattily. Gran would have been shocked.
Lil, one of the dressers, who helped the girls in and out of their complicated costumes, turned round to look. “Oh, it’s just Maisie. She’s Miss Massey’s new dresser. Standing in for poor Lucy.”
“Ugh…” The red-haired girl shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about that. Those stairs are a deathtrap. The management should do something about them, they really should. We’re up and down them so many times, it’s a wonder we haven’t all broken something.”
Maisie considered saying that she thought the steps might have been greased, so she could see if anyone looked guilty, but decided against it. She didn’t know the chorus girls well enough yet – the only one she recognized was Arabella, fiddling with her hair over on the far side of the room. It was hard to tell if someone felt guilty if you didn’t know what they usually looked like.
“I don’t know,” Maisie murmured shyly. “Seems to me Lucy might be glad of the rest.”
The dark-haired girl stared at her. “What do you mean? She broke her leg!”
Maisie gave a little shrug. “But now she’s got at least a couple of weeks laid up and Miss Massey’s still paying her.” She shuddered dramatically. “She’s probably thanking her lucky stars. I’ve only been here a day and I could do with a week’s holiday already.”
“That bad, is she?” the red-haired girl laughed and looked properly at Maisie for the first time. “What did she do?” she asked, glancing slyly sideways at the others.
The dark-haired girl stopped tying the ribbons on her shoes and stared at Maisie eagerly. “What’s she been saying to you?” she asked, giggling. “Did she accuse you of stealing her jewellery? She’s going to get the police in to search us all for her stupid necklace, I suppose!”
“Flora! Kitty!” Arabella turned round and glared at the girls. “Why do you both have to be so mean? Sarah hasn’t done anything to either of you. And someone must have stolen that necklace.”
“Oh, Sarah, is it? Friends with her, are you?” the red-haired girl, Flora, snorted in disgust. “She’s a stuck-up little witch and she doesn’t deserve that part.” She reached over and put an arm round Maisie’s shoulders. “Tell us all the gossip, sweetheart. Is she a monster to work for?”
Maisie sniffed sadly and crossed her fingers in the folds of her skirt. “She slapped me,” she whimpered. “And she threw a jar of face powder at my head! It only just missed me.”
“I thought so! You see, Arabella! Your darling Sarah’s got a nasty temper.” Flora nodded triumphantly.
Arabella shrugged and stared at Maisie. “Well, I don’t believe it. And I don’t think you should be spreading tales about her if you want to keep your job.” She went and stood by Maisie and Flora. She caught Maisie’s chin between her fingers and pulled her head up, so she could look into her eyes.
Maisie stared back at her defiantly, scowling. She didn’t much like Arabella. Whatever Miss Sarah said, there was something a little too sweet about her face. Syrupy, almost…
She was obviously a real friend to Sarah, though. It would have been really easy to keep quiet while Flora and the dark-haired Kitty made their horrible comments. They were just jealous of Sarah’s good luck.
But were they jealous enough to steal the necklace? She could imagine them playing nasty, mean little tricks – she wouldn’t be surprised if they did that sort of thing to each other all the time – but the necklace was a little bit different.
Maisie glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped. “I’d better get back, or Miss Sarah’ll have the skin off me.”
Kitty laughed. “Good luck, Maisie. Remember to duck if she picks up the face powder again!”
Maisie smiled and waved as she ran out of the dressing room, but as soon as she was in the passageway a frown crept across her brow. She had a couple of suspects – Kitty and Flora. She ought to have been feeling pleased with herself, but something was niggling at her. It didn’t seem quite right.
Maisie struggled out of bed the next morning at her usual time to do her cleaning, but Gran sent her straight back again. “You can do your housework later on,” she said firmly. “You need rest. You’re already earning your keep, Maisie. I might not like the thought of you at that theatre, but I can’t deny they’re paying you well. And it was nice of Miss Sarah to send you home in a cab. Considerate.”
Maisie went back to bed with Eddie curled luxuriously on her feet, but she found it hard to sleep, even though she was tired. She was worrying about the necklace – and how she
could work out who it was playing the mean tricks at the theatre. Perhaps she could set some sort of trap to see if she could catch one of the girls in the act?
Miss Sarah didn’t quite believe in the curse any more, so the pranks weren’t scaring her in the same way, but they were still dangerous. Poor Lucy was still laid up at home. Miss Sarah had said that she was going to visit her today, and take her some nice food.
Maisie yawned and turned over, squeezing her eyes tight shut. She had to sleep – she was still weary after her second late night, and she had to do it all over again later on. As she fell asleep, sparkling emeralds seemed to dance in front of her eyes, just as she imagined the chorus girls did at the theatre.
Later that afternoon, Maisie set off for the Dauntry Theatre, with Eddie trotting happily beside her. She was glad to be taking the little dog with her – she had missed him, even with all the excitement of the theatre. But she walked a little slower as she came up the alley to the stage door, hoping that she wouldn’t get shouted at by the doorkeeper for trying to bring a dog inside.
Mr Jones the doorkeeper did peer out of his little booth in surprise, but he seemed to like dogs, and he smiled down at Eddie. “He’s a fine little lad, isn’t he.”
“He’s very good at catching mice,” Maisie explained. (It was quite true. Eddie lined them up outside the back door and dragged Maisie out to admire his haul every so often. It annoyed him that she cleared them away.) “Miss Sarah said there were a lot of mice around, so I offered to bring him.”
“Good idea,” nodded Mr Jones. “Send him down this way, Maisie – the little blighters are always after my sandwiches.”
Maisie hurried in, hoping that Sarah would approve of her idea, too. It helped that, by pure luck, Eddie happened to dive under the costume rack that was still standing in the passage and came out with a limp, furry little mouse in his jaws, just as Sarah hurried down the passage.
“Oh! Is he yours, Maisie? He’s so sweet. What a clever little dog!”
“Yes, Miss. I thought he’d be a help with the mice.” Maisie leaned over and added, in a whisper, “And he can guard the dressing room, Miss, if we need him to.”
“Yes, of course! That would be good. Mr Lorenzo – he plans the dances, you see – he’s made a change in one of the scenes. So now I’ll need you in the wings to help me take off that awful hat as well, and give me the parasol for the Sunny Days number.” Sarah smiled. “It’ll mean you can watch some of the show, Maisie. Would you like that?”
Maisie beamed at her. So far, all she knew about the show was that it was set around a circus and that lots of the musical numbers involved juggling, and even a high-wire that was stretched across the back of the stage. She would love to see what all the backstage work was actually for.
She waited eagerly for the second half of the show, when Sarah would need her to be on the side of the stage. As they left the dressing room at the end of the interval, Maisie settled Eddie on an old blanket in the corner of the room and they hurried away.
Maisie hadn’t known what to expect of the theatre – she had peeped in at the rows and rows of dusty-looking velvet seats and been rather disappointed. It was almost shabby. But now, watching from the wings as the chorus rushed on for the big dance number that opened the second act, Maisie found it hard to catch her breath. The stage glittered with light and there were pale watching faces stretching away into the darkness for miles. Here and there the stage lights picked out a gilded statue at the side of one of the boxes. It was like a palace. Or as close as Maisie had ever been to one.
It was wonderful to feel that she belonged here, just a little – more than the people out on the other side of the lights did, anyway. She watched delightedly as the dancers milled across the stage in delicate, shifting patterns, with Sarah twirling in the midst of all of them. Maisie had never seen her dance before, of course, but to her, Sarah seemed perfect. Surely no one could think she wasn’t up to the part any more.
There was a huge surging wave of applause and even cheers as Sarah ran off hand in hand with Mr Edward Hart, who played her suitor. He smiled at Sarah approvingly as Maisie started to unpin her hat.
“Good show tonight,” he said, nodding, and Sarah stared at him for a second in surprise, and then smiled.
“You’re bringing me luck, Maisie,” she whispered, as he strode away. “He never says anything nice normally.”
Sarah had to be on stage again in minutes, with her hair loose, and a frilled parasol to twirl in the dance. Maisie was looking forward to this bit. Sarah had described it to her – how she had to walk about the stage as if she was in a daze, while the circus performers rehearsed around her. She had to walk in an exact pattern, she’d explained, or the jugglers would hit her.
Maisie watched, holding her breath, as the balls flew backwards and forwards, arching over Sarah’s head as she went on dreamily twirling her parasol. It was very pretty, and funny, too, and she could hear the audience laughing.
They laughed even more when a small white and brown dog appeared at the edge of the stage, athletically leaping up to catch one of the balls in his teeth. It looked just like part of the act, but it wasn’t…
“Eddie!” Maisie gulped from the wings, and she tried to beckon her dog off the stage. But she couldn’t call him, of course, and he didn’t pay any attention. He just sat there with the ball between his paws, looking pleased with himself and letting everyone dance around him.
“I’ll be sacked,” Maisie muttered to herself miserably. “I will be, for sure. Oh, Eddie, come here!”
Perhaps it was because she was crouching down, trying to call Eddie back, but Maisie was the only one who saw what happened next. It was so quick that she almost didn’t see it at all. It was just the tiniest glimpse as Sarah whirled past the little cluster of chorus girls who were pretending to sew sequins on to circus costumes. Just the smallest sighting of pink ballet slipper, as one of the girls stuck her foot out. It could almost have been an accident, but as she saw Sarah trip, and hop, and twirl her way cleverly back into the proper steps, Maisie was almost certain that it had been done on purpose. Not only that, but she’d seen who the pink ballet slipper belonged to. It was Arabella!
Arabella, Sarah’s friend, had deliberately tried to trip her up!
“But she’s so nice,” Maisie said, shaking her head as she sat with her friend, Alice, back at Albion Street the next day. “She’s the only one who is. Some of the others mutter horrible things about Miss Sarah behind her back, but Arabella stuck up for her. She told me off, when I was trying to stir up gossip! It can’t be her. She was the one who came to tell Sarah about the posters, she was worried about her.” Maisie frowned. “I must have imagined it. Perhaps Sarah tripped after all.”
“Sometimes people aren’t always what they seem, Maisie,” said Alice, as she glanced carefully through the banisters to make sure no one was coming.
Maisie was supposed to be sweeping the landing and Alice had escaped from her French conversation lesson with Madame Lorimer. The French lady had a terrible habit of falling asleep in the afternoons, which Alice and Maisie found very useful.
“Just keep an eye out for Miss Sidebotham,” Alice murmured. “It would be so like her to come back and fetch me early, just when we’re getting to the interesting bit. I wish I was too old for a governess.”
“It really can’t have been Arabella. She’s too sweet to do something like that – but then again, I did see it…” Maisie nibbled her thumbnail anxiously.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Maisie, for goodness’ sake! Arabella’s an actress! And she must be a good one, if they’re thinking of giving her Sarah Massey’s role. Just because she looks sweet and sounds sweet, it certainly doesn’t mean she really is!”
Maisie stared at her. “I never thought of it like that,” she admitted. “So … you think it could be an act?”
“Of course it could be!” Alice said triumphantly. “And she didn’t have to tell Miss Sarah about the posters, did sh
e? They could have been cleaned up and Miss Sarah would never have known.”
Maisie nodded, thinking it through. “Maybe she was throwing people off the scent by being so nice about Miss Sarah… Perhaps it’s been her all along,” she murmured. “All the horrible tricks.”
“You’d better keep an eye on that Arabella,” Alice agreed. “So what happened about Eddie? Did you get into trouble for bringing him?”
Maisie shook her head. “I thought I would. I was sure they’d get rid of me. But Miss Sarah told the theatre manager that we’d definitely shut the dressing-room door, and that the only way he could have got out was if someone had gone in there, which is true. And no one should have done, of course. So then everybody started fussing about who it was who went in, and they forgot about Eddie going on stage.” She giggled. “Except that Mr Lorenzo asked me if I thought he could be trained to do it again. I said he could try, but Eddie isn’t very good at doing things when you want him to. And now he has to be tied up if we leave him in the dressing room, poor Eddie. Still, it’s better than leaving him here to annoy Gran.”
“Ssshhh! That’s Miss Sidebotham. Goodbye, Maisie! I wish I had French more often. Do you think you’ll have solved it by next week?” Alice slipped back into Madame Lorimer’s room, waving to Maisie.
Now that Alice had given her the idea, Maisie did her best to watch Arabella as much as she could. But it seemed that she was a much better actress than anyone had suspected. She was always, always nice.