Songbird

by Bell, Julia

  I let myself into the house and went straight into the parlour where Danny was playing on the floor. I dropped down next to him and he immediately put his arms round my neck. I pressed him close and he babbled in my ear, trying to tell me what he was doing. He pointed to the doorway of the kitchen and I turned and saw Nan.

  “No good, eh?” she said.

  “Not this year, I’m afraid,” I said, trying to force away annoying tears.

  “There’s always next year.”

  “And the next and the one after, until I’m too old to try any more,” I scoffed. Tears were starting to drip down my cheeks and I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

  “Nonsense, you have a good thirty years of singing ahead of you and you never know what the future holds.” She disappeared into the kitchen and brought out a tray of tea, placing it on the dresser away from Danny’s inquisitive hands.

  “I’ll just have to save faster and advertise for more pupils.” I felt sick at the thought.

  “You can have the money I’ve saved for Mr Singer’s new sewing machine, if you wish. What the hell, I probably won’t be able to work it even if I got one.”

  Her unselfish sacrifice made me spring to my feet and I flung my arms round her. “Oh, no, I couldn’t take that.” She returned my hug. “Besides I need fifty pounds a year for two years of training, that’s one hundred pounds. Plus enough money for my share of the household bills while I’m at the academy.”

  “I can pay the bills while you’re studying.”

  I shook my head. “No, that wouldn’t be fair on you.”

  She poured out two cups of tea and we carried them over to the couch. I sipped mine as I watched Danny pushing his wooden animals into Noah’s ark. I had taught him to make the sound of a lion and he was growling softly.

  “Mr Russell has invited himself to dinner tonight,” she said quietly.

  “Has he?” I sighed.

  “He’s been paying you a lot of attention these last six months. I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed to you very soon.”

  “He can do what he likes,” I said angrily. “But I know what the answer will be.”

  Nan stayed silent for a moment, gently blowing on her tea. “He’s in property, you know,” she said, studying her cup. “Buys up old houses and rents them out.”

  “Yes, to poor people who can barely afford his high rent.”

  “It’s a living.”

  “Some living. Besides, I like him up to a point, but not enough to marry him.”

  “Not even if he offered to pay your fees at the academy?”

  Nan’s suggestion made me start with surprise. It had never crossed my mind that another man might be of the same opinion as my Daniel. Could that be possible? My husband had been so enthusiastic about my ambitions, had swept me along with his dreams of seeing me on the stage. A second husband might be equally as fervent. And there was no doubt that Mr Felix Russell had the means to pay my fees. Once the idea had taken hold of me there was no letting go. Suddenly I was filled with a fierce determination. That evening I would dress in my best gown of soft peach satin, decorated with cream pleated lace. I would pile my dark brown curls up onto my head and hold them in place with a comb of osprey feathers. My chocolate brown eyes would look longingly into his and I would flutter my eyelashes shamelessly. I had never done anything like that in my life, but now desperation was taking hold of me and I was becoming blind to everything but my ambition.

  My attention turned to my child, now filling up a small cart with his bricks. His entry into the world happened at six o’clock on the evening of the fourth of March. My labour pains had lasted eighteen hours and after twenty minutes of strenuous pushing, he slid from me weighing seven pounds eleven ounces. Mrs Morgan attended me along with the midwife who had come over from Aberdare and as the baby was placed in my arms, tears trickled down my cheeks. I loved him from the minute I set eyes on him and holding him close to me, I cried for all the loved ones who would never see him. But those last months on my own had made me stronger.

  A month before his birth I had written to Nan telling her that everything had to be sold, including the house. Her reply had delighted me since she told me that her friend had accepted a cook’s position somewhere near Birmingham and she was now alone. She invited me to move in with her and I was overjoyed. I wrote to Gwilym immediately since living in London meant we could see each other more often.

  Gwilym had returned to St Bartholomew’s as soon as everything had been concluded. He would have liked to stay until the baby, but he was falling behind with his studies and I urged him to go in the sure knowledge that we would see each other very soon. And when I wrote to tell him about the arrival of his nephew, I also told him that everything was going well, the furniture all sold and I would be ready to leave Cwmdare in early June.

  Daniel Barri was baptised in the chapel by Mr Price when he was six weeks old. I named him after my husband and father and as I stood quietly through the ceremony, I suddenly began to feel happy. My thoughts turned to the future and although I was well aware that I now had to depend on my own resources, I knew that my lovely husband had left something of himself behind. Certain proof that he had once lived and during that life had loved me deeply. It was a wonderful thought and one that would hearten me for a long time to come.

  When Nan wrote to say that The Royal Academy of Music held auditions every July for their bursaries, I replied straight away and asked her to apply for me. She promptly did this and then I had something else to strive for. I had decided to teach music for a living, but applying to the academy as a scholarship student gave me purpose. When I finally closed the door of my home for the last time, I was looking forwards not backwards. Mrs Morgan said that was healthy and as Mr Price gave us a lift in his carriage to the railway station in Aberdare, I lifted my face to the warm June sun and held my baby close to me. It was so sad saying goodbye to the minister and I clung to him for a while, trying to hold back sad tears. He kissed my forehead and told me that he would pray for me and my success with the academy. It gave me a great deal of comfort.

  Mrs Morgan travelled with me as far as Pontypridd, where she was staying with her sister and I then caught the train to Newport. Danny was irritable on the journey, not liking the upset in his routine, but I cuddled him in the corner of the carriage and placed a shawl over my shoulders so that I could feed him. In Newport I boarded the ferry to cross the mouth of the Severn. The crossing was very pleasant and I was able to walk round the deck with Danny and lift him up to see the seagulls. I received some sympathetic glances from the other passengers who must have thought it sad for such a young woman, dressed in widow’s weeds, to be travelling alone with a small baby. But I didn’t care. I was on a wonderful adventure and my heart was above the clouds.

  At the port of Bristol, I accepted a ride from a friendly farmer who was transporting churns of milk and offered to take me to the railway station. Danny slept all the way and even when I caught the train, he didn’t stir. I nodded off for most of the journey and when the engine finally clanked and hissed its way into the huge glass and steel cathedral of a station called Paddington, I felt tired but elated. To my utter amazement and joy, Gwilym was waiting for me.

  When I alighted from the train, I was stunned when I felt hands on my shoulders and a gentle voice say, “About time, Issy. I’ve been waiting two hours for you and thought you must have changed your mind.”

  I turned round and there he was, smiling. And then I introduced him to little Danny and for a few minutes he fussed and cooed over him. He accompanied me in a hackney cab to the small house in Laurel Close, Hammersmith. I couldn’t believe how tiny it was and after the ample space in our house in Cwmdare, I wondered how we would manage.

  These thoughts completely vanished when I saw that Nan and Gwilym had worked hard to make the house comfortable for me. They had put fresh paper on the walls of my room and Gwilym had bought a cradle for his baby nephew. Nan had refurbished my room,
making new curtains and a wonderful quilt for my bed. She had put bright covers on an old armchair by the window, telling me that I could sit comfortably and nurse Danny in private. I was very touched by their kindness and suddenly my new home in Laurel Close became heaven to me.

  I advertised for pupils almost immediately and received quite a few replies. And then there was the audition at the academy in July. For some strange reason I decided to sing Habanera from the opera Carmen by Bizet. It was a dreadful choice and one I would come to regret. It was a very seductive song and I don’t think the assessors were very happy with me for choosing such a controversial piece of opera. Naturally, I didn’t win a scholarship that year, but I had been in London only six weeks and everything was so new to me. I would be successful the following year, I assured myself. Everything would happen next year.

  I met Mr Felix Russell a short time later when I was giving a music lesson. He had been visiting the gentleman of the house and heard me singing in the parlour as he was being shown out. He had wandered over to the half-open door, his hat and gloves held in elegant hands and listened for a while. At the end he had applauded and I stood and gave him a dainty curtsey. I hadn’t expected him to wait for me as I left the premises, but he had loitered on the pavement and lifting his hat politely asked if he could escort me anywhere. I didn’t know what to say so he walked with me to the omnibus. I didn’t see anything of him all that summer and autumn, but at Christmas I bumped into him once more.

  That Christmas was the first anniversary of the mining accident and Nan, Gwilym and I were feeling the sorrow of losing our loved ones. I wondered if every Christmas would feel this way and fervently hoped that the passage of time would heal our wounds. When I met Mr Russell in Liberty’s department store, he offered to buy me a cup of tea and I spent a pleasant hour with him as I told him about my life in the Rhondda. When I came to the part about the mining accident, he reached across and took my hand, kissing my fingers as though his heart ached for me. I thought him a lovely man and when he invited me to Covent Garden to see Verdi’s La Traviata, I didn’t hesitate.

  He was a frequent caller at our home in Laurel Close after that, but over time my feelings started to change towards him. I knew he was wooing me and I couldn’t do with it. My heart was still broken and I didn’t want any intrusion of that kind. I just wasn’t ready for any emotional entanglements. That was until the morning of my second failed attempt at the scholarship. Suddenly, Mr Russell seemed an attractive proposition and although my conscience pricked at what I was doing, I couldn’t really see anything wrong in it. If he wanted me as a wife, then why shouldn’t I want something in return? It all seemed perfectly logical to me.

  I dressed very carefully for dinner, making sure I looked the part. Sweeping up my hair, I pinned the comb in place and made sure my gown was snug round my figure. Pregnancy had been kind to me and my womanly curves had returned very quickly. I suppose it was because I had had Danny so young and I was a very active person, always running when I should be walking.

  Before I descended the stairs I checked myself in the mirror and smiled with delight. Mr Russell was on time as usual and I answered the door to his knock.

  “Goodness me,” he said softly, as his eyes wandered over my dress. “You certainly look a picture tonight.”

  I felt very gracious towards him and took his hat and gloves. “Thank you,” I smiled. “It’s always nice to look one’s best when a gentleman comes to dine.”

  I took his arm and we went into the parlour that acted as our dining room. The table had been set and between us, Nan and I had conjured up a very impressive three-course meal. He had brought a couple of bottles of wine with him and he placed them on the table. I glanced at him and thought he seemed quite handsome that evening with his hair slightly greying and laughter lines round his eyes and mouth. He was always dressed very smartly. I was just twenty and he must have been nearly forty, but it didn’t seem to matter. It didn’t occur to me that I saw him only as a money pot and nothing else, since that evening I tried to convince myself that I was attracted to him.

  It was a lively dinner and made even more so since Gwilym had also been invited. Mr Russell had met my brother many times, but Gwilym had never expressed an opinion on him. Not that I had asked his opinion. We had always had an understanding that we didn’t interfere in each other’s private life unless advice was asked for. But that night, Gwilym watched Mr Russell over his wineglass and I knew he felt uncomfortable that Mr Russell was paying me a lot of attention. But when I saw Gwilym frown at Mr Russell’s light-hearted quip about finding himself a wife before he grew too old, I knew that my brother didn’t approve of my suitor.

  Gwilym left straight after dinner and Nan disappeared to the kitchen. I went upstairs to check on Danny who was fast asleep and gently kissed his beautiful face and then his tiny fingers. Mr Russell was waiting for me when I came downstairs, pouring out two glasses of wine.

  He turned and smiled as I entered the room. “Is he asleep?” He passed the wineglass to me.

  “Yes, he’s very good about going to bed. It’s just that he wakes me up too early.”

  “Perhaps he should have a nanny to care for him,” he said.

  I bristled with indignation. “I look after him.”

  Realising his mistake, he smiled. “Of course you do. And I think you do a splendid job. He’ll be a credit to you when he’s grown.”

  “That seems a very long way off,” I sighed.

  He held out his hand. “Come and sit on the couch with me.” I did as I was told and made myself comfortable. His eyes swept over me once more and I smiled seductively. He gave a nervous cough. “When I talked about a nanny for Daniel I meant no offence. I was thinking of you and how you would have a little more time to yourself and not feel so tired all the time.”

  “How do you know I feel tired?”

  “I’ve caught you on many occasions, trying to stifle a yawn behind your fan,” he laughed.

  I couldn’t help laughing with him. “I think my students wear me out. It’s so tiring trying to teach music when there is no interest. Only one has potential and I’m sure she’ll lose her enthusiasm soon enough.”

  “I’m sure,” he smiled and took a sip of wine. “Does teaching music really appeal to you?”

  “No, it doesn’t. It’s dreadful and not what I want to do.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Mr Russell didn’t know about my ambitions to attend the academy and I didn’t feel the moment was right to tell him.

  “Be happy in whatever I plan to do,” I answered lamely.

  “But what are those plans?”

  I moved away from him, laughing and he shuffled closer, closing the gap I had created. “I’m not sure yet,” I lied.

  “Perhaps I could help you in that?” He placed his glass on a small table.

  “How?”

  Smiling mysteriously, he took my glass and put it next to his and then reached for my hand. “Mrs Asquith. Isabelle. I’m an unmarried man with a substantial fortune and a fine house in Richmond. If you would agree to be my wife then it would make me very happy.”

  It was said, he had finally proposed.

  “What about Danny?”

  He threw back his head and gave a boisterous laugh. “Goodness me, do you think I’d ask you to leave the little chap behind? Of course not. He must come with you and I will treat him as my own child.” He kissed my hand. “But I’m sure he’ll have many siblings in time to come.”

  I hesitated a moment before saying, “But what would you wish me to do as your wife?”

  He seemed puzzled at this statement and in truth, I felt uncomfortable saying it.

  “What wives normally do. Run the home as you did in your first marriage,” he said slowly.

  “I’ll not teach music any more?”

  He gave an amused chuckle. “Certainly not. Why would you need to teach after we’re married.”

  At least that bit was out of th
e way. Now it was time to ask him the other.

  “I would like to continue singing, though.”

  “Of course you will continue singing. We’ll have many musical evenings when you can entertain our guests.”

  “What about singing professionally on the stage?”

  A stunned expression crossed his face. “On the stage? Do you mean in a theatre? In front of a paying audience?”

  I moved closer to him and then I really did flutter my eyelashes, to my undying shame. “Yes, at Covent Garden. But I need to be classically trained first. The Royal Academy of Music is where I should go and then any theatre will accept…” I stopped as he rose slowly to his feet. My husband’s eager face drifted into my mind and I looked for the same expression on Mr Russell’s face. I felt compelled to continue. “It’s only for two years and then…”

  “Are you saying,” he said tersely, “that you’ll accept my proposal of marriage providing I pay your fees at the academy?”

  I opened my fan and wafted it in front of my face. “Well, if I’m your wife, I thought you’d wish…” I murmured in a voice that was husky with embarrassment.

  He glared down at me and I shuddered. “I think you are impertinent, madam! And you insult me beyond belief. Firstly, I wouldn’t want my wife to go on the stage. I wouldn’t be able to hold my head up in polite society. And secondly, you underestimate me to think I would enter marriage so ill-used. Do you take me for an idiot! It looks like I’ve been wasting my time with you.” He gave a polite bow. “Please don’t trouble yourself to see me out.”

  I watched him as he left the room. And then I heard the front door slam.

  Nan appeared. “He’s gone then,” she said, but I knew she didn’t expect an answer.

  I grimaced. “I’ll just have to think of something else.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A month later I put another advertisement in The Times newspaper. The fact I was willing to teach in a pupil’s home had always attracted numerous replies. Many music teachers taught in their own homes and pupils had to make a special journey. But I was content to use whatever piano was provided and carry the music I needed in a small leather pouch.