by Bell, Julia
“What did Mr Perry say?” asked Nan, when I arrived home later that day.
“I’ve got the job, but I start in the chorus.”
“That’s good, yes?”
I nodded. “I have to be willing to start at the bottom.”
Nan and I had somehow patched up our differences after that terrible Christmas when Gwilym had accused me of having a ‘lover’ and walked out of my life. At first I couldn’t forgive her for prying into my private affairs or my personal possessions. But she had tearfully explained that it was done out of pure concern for me. She was bitterly sorry that it had caused a rift between Gwilym and me. It was the last thing she had expected to happen. The last thing she had wanted to happen.
I hadn’t seen my brother for nearly two years. Shortly after our argument he had joined the Merchant Navy as a ship’s doctor and was away for long periods of time. I had written to him and waited for his answer, but none ever came. His anger and disgust for me ran deep and my only consolation was that he would get in touch with Nan when he was on leave in order to see Danny. But he refused to come to the house. Instead, Nan would take Danny and meet him in the park and I would stay behind at home, my heart breaking. I had told Nan about my brother’s speculations concerning my so-called ‘lover’, brushing it off as silly and completely untrue. And after we had cleared the air, she never mentioned that Christmas again. As for me, my days at the academy had been full and frantic and whatever time I could spare, I spent with my son.
Danny was now four years old and I had started teaching him to read and write. He was well on the way to becoming proficient and he could already copy his name. He was going to be clever like his father and I had put money aside for his education. I had such dreams for him. I thought I would employ a governess when he was seven and then when he was old enough, I wanted him to attend Harrow. I thought Cambridge would follow. Yes, I had his education all planned out. He looked so like my darling husband with blond hair that curled round his face and brilliant blue eyes. My investment in the Anaconda Mining Company was bringing in a good dividend and I diligently saved as much as I could for his future.
Only very occasionally did my mind drift to the little girl I had sold. Thoughts of her were more acute on the twenty-fourth of June, her birthday, but I found that with a bit of effort, I could dismiss her from my mind. Her father was a different matter.
Memories of Karl still persisted in tormenting me. His voice seemed to echo through my mind. It was his voice that had first alerted me to his presence that day at Mrs Holland’s and it was his voice that had been the last thing I had known of him. As I had made my way to the academy each morning, I had often found myself studying every gentleman that walked past, thinking that I might accidentally meet him again. And one afternoon I visited the art gallery, in the hope that he would suddenly appear as he had done that rainy day so long ago. I still loved him and as far as I was concerned, I always would.
Rehearsals the following morning started with a few introductions. Mr Perry stood in front of us and called out the names of the new members of the chorus. Everyone clapped to welcome us and then the hard work began. I was delighted to be part of the production of Verdi’s Aida, but the most wonderful thing about it all was that Ruth and Diamond were there to help me. And they were right about Signora Zuchetti. Although gigantic, in appearance and eminence, I would remember Karl’s comments at our first meeting. Large ladies bellowing at the top of their voices, he had said and in Signora Zuchetti’s case he was right. But people flocked to see her and the theatre was always full.
Over the following twelve months, Ruth, Diamond and I became inseparable. In the dressing room we would help each other with our costumes and makeup, giggling at anything and everything. It wasn’t long before we started visiting each other in our homes. I was rather shocked to see their dilapidated room in the boarding house and although my home was small, it seemed a palace compared with what they had to put up with. Danny took to them immediately and it was only a short time before he started calling them Auntie Ruth and Auntie Di.
Mr Perry was a hard taskmaster and my life at Covent Garden became a round of hard work, late nights and utter exhaustion, allowing me to think of nothing but the theatre and singing. Life settled down to a steady routine and rehearsals followed performance followed rehearsals. I was happy, but in a hesitant way. I couldn’t work out why. I loved being on the stage and although I couldn’t see much of the audience because of the lights, I knew they were out there and for that I was satisfied. And I certainly enjoyed the applause as we took our bow. But my feelings were different from what I had expected.
Between performances we tried to find Diamond a husband. She had supper with quite a few of the gentlemen who called at the stage door, but finally admitted that they were after only one thing. Our Sunday afternoons were spent in hysterical laughter as she entertained us with stories of the lecherous intentions of some of her amours.
“You want us to move?” said Nan incredulously.
I nodded. “I think we should rent a bigger property so we have more space.”
“We can’t afford it.”
“Yes, we can. I’m sure we can. I was thinking about asking Ruth and Diamond to share the rent.”
“We’ll all live together?”
“Why not? We can look after one another.” I reached across and took her hand. “Oh Nan, you should see where they’re living. It’s horrible! And guess who’s their landlord?” She frowned. “None other than Mr Felix Russell. Thank God I didn’t marry him.”
She thought over my idea. “So, you haven’t asked them yet?”
“No, I haven’t. I wanted to know how you felt about it first.”
“Where do you want to move to?”
I had already looked at some possible locations. “Finsbury. It’s closer to Covent Garden.” I danced round the room with glee. “It would be wonderful. And if we pool our resources, then we should be able to manage.”
Nan still seemed hesitant. She didn’t like change. “Well, put it to the girls and then we’ll look at some properties. We mustn’t be too hasty.”
I smiled with delight and hugged Danny who had been listening while pretending to be absorbed in his toys.
“Are we going to live in a new house, Mama?”
“Yes, dearest. To a bigger house with a garden instead of a yard. You’ll be able to play on a bit of grass instead of the street.” I kissed my five-year-old son on his head.
“What about my friends?”
“You’ll make new ones and anyway, there’s no reason why your old friends can’t come to visit you at our new house.”
“And Uncle Gwilym?”
I took in a big breath. “Of course,” I said softly. “And Uncle Gwilym.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sampson Street was lined with chestnut trees and although mainly terraced houses, they all had a small garden at the rear with an outhouse in the corner containing the lavatory. The house we chose had three bedrooms, a large kitchen and two main rooms, a parlour and a dining room. Two of the bedrooms were quite large and Ruth and Diamond were going to share and the other would be for Nan, so she could still have room for her needlework commissions. I took the smaller room at the back. Although it was the smallest of the three, it was still larger than the one I had had in Laurel Close. Danny and I would still occupy the same room, with his little bed placed against the wall adjacent to mine.
We fell in love with the house as soon as we saw it and the landlady, Mrs Haygarth, was delighted that four ladies were renting her premises. We moved in at the end of October 1889 and Ruth and Diamond were more than relieved to leave Mr Russell’s appalling lodgings. Our life in Finsbury was going to be wonderful, I was sure of it. And with the production of Mozart’s The Magic Flute about to start rehearsals, I felt happier.
I thought of Karl less and less. It was at night mostly, as I drifted off to sleep that I remembered him. I remembered the feel of his body close to
mine, his kisses on my lips and throat, his soft voice as he whispered tender words. And as time passed I realised that those words shouldn’t have been spoken, since we were not together as lovers but for one specific purpose only. Sometimes I felt angry that he had aroused such passions in me and made me fall in love with him. It had been unkind of him to do so, but there again, perhaps I deserved it. Perhaps it was retribution for my own cruelty. For although I now had my heart’s desire, I knew that I had been selfish and unkind too. Somewhere in the world, there was a little girl who knew nothing of me. This knowledge would prove to be a testing time for me and one more step on the painful road of knowing myself better.
I was forced to find shelter often, that rainy afternoon in February. I was trying to make my way to the toyshop, but the sudden downpours were catching me unawares. It was as though the weather was playing an amusing trick with spasmodic sunshine and then a torrential deluge. I finally reached the shop and went inside. They didn’t have what I wanted and directed me to a specialised shop in Oxford Street. Exhausted and soaked to the skin, I was glad to warm my hands by the fire that burnt brightly at one end of the shop. The assistant was already serving a gentleman and I was happy to wait my turn. When it came I asked for a cricket bat and ball.
“The bat is made of willow, madam, so is strong and hard wearing. The ball is of cork wrapped in leather.”
I took the bat and balanced it in my hands. “It seems so heavy. My son will be six next month, although he’s tall for his age.”
The assistant seemed amused by my concern. “He’ll be proud as Punch to receive a real cricket bat and ball rather than a toy bat. And he’ll get used to handling it, mark my words.”
I felt dubious. “I’m not sure. I wouldn’t want him to get hit by such a hard ball.”
“That depends on who the bowler is, madam,” he smiled.
“His uncle.”
“Then I’m sure the little lad’s uncle will take it easy when he bowls.”
I nodded and agreed to make the purchase. Danny had been begging me since Christmas for a ‘proper’ bat and ball so that he and his uncle could play in the park when the summer came and Gwilym was home on leave. According to Nan, he was travelling all round the world and seeing far away places that seemed so strange and exotic. I had bought an atlas and Danny and I would follow his voyages. Often he would travel to America, but many times he sailed to Australia with passengers who wanted to settle in a new country. And he was there to attend to their medical needs. Despite our rift, I still felt proud of him.
Ruth and Diamond now knew that my brother and I had fallen out, although I had never told them the reason. How could I? What would I tell them? Diamond came from a large family and knew about disagreements between siblings, but Ruth’s brother had died from meningitis when he was only nineteen. For her, the argument between Gwilym and me was difficult to understand. She had loved her brother very much and still felt his loss keenly. When she asked why I had allowed the quarrel to continue for all these years, I had no answer for her. Her chocolate brown eyes flashed in anger and she told me sternly that it was all very stupid and risky since the warring parties never knew if something might happen to separate them forever. I knew what she meant and I had to agree with her.
With the gift tucked under my arm I made my way to the tearooms where I was meeting the girls. I took a seat by the window and close to the fire, watching the people hurrying by, umbrellas held aloft. I ordered a pot of tea for myself since I was frozen and needed some warmth inside me. But as I sipped my drink, the doorbell tinkled and two men came into the shop, one in his middle years and round as a barrel, the other much younger, with hair of burnt copper. I frowned and although I didn’t want to stare, I was intrigued with the young man who was talking animatedly to the older one. They took a table not far from mine and then I heard the young man laugh. A wave of surprise swept through me and then he turned his head and our eyes met.
He jumped to his feet and in a few strides he was at my table. “Mrs Asquith? Well, goodness me. It’s so nice to see you again.” He kissed my hand and then turned to the older gentleman. “Mr Sullivan, come and meet my music teacher, Mrs Asquith.”
I invited them to take seats at my table and was introduced to Mr Arthur Sullivan from the company of Gilbert and Sullivan.
“Francis talks about you all the time,” he said, his round stomach wobbling with laughter. “He says it was you that encouraged him to sing.”
I shook my head. “Oh, no, Francis always had the enthusiasm. I knew he’d make an excellent tenor one day.” I smiled at Francis Pelham, the child of thirteen who had been one of my last pupils before my trip to France. “Have you left school already?”
“I’m not eighteen until April, but I’ve made an agreement with my parents that if they allow me to sing for twelve months, then I’ll go to university and then into the family business.”
Mr Sullivan chuckled. “And of course, I’ll be trying to persuade them to let him stay on the stage.”
I felt stunned. “You’re performing at The Savoy Theatre?”
Francis nodded. “I’m playing Nanki-Poo in The Mikado.” The look of horror on my face seemed to tickle him. He turned to Mr Sullivan who had ordered a cream cake and was tucking in with absolute pleasure. “Mrs Asquith never agreed with your works, sir. She’s an advocate of high opera.”
“Nothing wrong with the posh stuff,” said Mr Sullivan, through a mouthful of cake and cream. “As long as you don’t mind being bored to death.”
“That’s not so,” I said. “Grand opera is all important. It’s what music should be.”
Mr Sullivan waved his fork in the air. “The most important thing about music is that it’s enjoyed. And it doesn’t matter if it’s an aria from Verdi or a song from the music hall. If it brings pleasure to the listener, then it’s successful music.”
Francis watched me with a half-smile, interested in my reply.
I hesitated momentarily. “Yes, all right, you could have a point there. It’s the pleasure that counts.”
“So, what are you doing now, Mrs Asquith?” asked Francis, grinning.
“I’m singing at Covent Garden.”
“Well done. Have you played any major parts yet?”
“No, I’m in the chorus,” I said quietly.
“But not for long, I’m sure,” said Francis kindly. He turned to his companion. “Mrs Asquith has a beautiful voice. You should hear her sing.”
“I’d love to one day. However, the trouble with Covent Garden is that it’s difficult to make progress. You could be in the chorus for the next five years.” I knew he was right and decided to stay silent. He chuckled. “I think you’d make a wonderful Patience.” He pretended seriousness. “So, if I offered you two complimentary tickets for next month’s production of The Mikado, you’ll probably turn them down?”
“She’d better not!” said a voice to my right. I looked up to see Ruth and Diamond, water dripping from their hats, glaring down at me. “If she doesn’t want to go, then we certainly do.”
I introduced them and soon the five of us were squeezed round the table and more tea, cakes and scones were ordered.
“Quite cosy, isn’t it,” said Mr Sullivan, trying to extract his elbow from the folds of Diamond’s coat.
She gave him a seductive smile. “If you give us three tickets instead of two then you can cosy up to me all you want.”
“Diamond!” I said, feeling appalled.
“Three tickets it is,” laughed Mr Sullivan. “Give me your address and I’ll send them immediately.
“What about Nan?” asked Ruth.
I shook my head. “She’s not really bothered about the theatre. She only goes to keep me company.”
“It’ll have to be a matinee performance,” said Ruth. “It’s the only time we’re free.”
It was a delightful afternoon tea and Mr Arthur Sullivan was a joy to be with. By the time we said our goodbyes, I had quite warmed to him. And d
espite what everyone thought, I was looking forward to seeing The Mikado and hearing Francis sing.
We caught a cab to The Savoy Theatre that cold and windy afternoon in mid-March. The blustery weather lifted our capes and we had to hold onto our hats to stop them blowing away.
“I feel really naughty doing this,” I said. “I hope Mr Perry doesn’t find out.”
“What can he do about it,” scoffed Diamond. “It’s in our own free time.”
“He’s asked to see me tomorrow,” said Ruth quietly. “I’ve been trying to think what I’ve done to deserve a summons.”
I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry about it. You know what he’s like. You probably left your costume lying about and the wardrobe mistress has complained.”
“I always hang up my costume,” said Ruth indignantly.
Even so, I was worried and when I glanced at Diamond I saw she was biting her lip.
To my utter amazement, the production of The Mikado was wonderful and Francis enchanted the audience. When he sang A Wandering Minstrel I, I suddenly remembered when I had first heard him sing it, it was on the day I met Karl for out first luncheon together. The memory brought a lump to my throat, but it was just for an instant and then I was laughing with Ruth and Diamond at the antics of the citizens of Titipu.
After the performance, we went backstage and crowded round Francis in his dressing room. Mr Sullivan joined us.
“Well, Mrs Asquith. What do you think?”
I looked down at the ground, feeling abashed. “May we have some tickets for the Pirates of Penzance please?”
The dressing room erupted in laughter and I turned scarlet.
Laughter and merriment continued outside and the three of us linked arms and danced down the street singing Three Little Maids from School. Mr Perry would have been horrified if he had seen us, but we didn’t care. My friends knew I was a convert and we were happy.