Songbird

by Bell, Julia

  We had nearly reached the omnibus stop when we saw a few market stalls set up by the side of the road and we stopped to take a look. One was selling buttons and ribbons, the other trinkets of jewellery.

  “Want to buy a bracelet or necklace, miss,” said the young girl looking after the stall.

  She can’t have been more than nine and was wrapped up in what looked like three shawls and a large bonnet far too big for her.

  I scanned the wares spread before me. Nothing I saw was anything I would wear, but then I spotted a small bracelet of pink shells. I picked it up.

  “How much?”

  “Only fourpence, miss.”

  Diamond looked over my shoulder. “Don’t buy it, Issy,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s cheap and will probably fall apart in your hands.”

  She was right but somehow I was drawn to the pretty shells. I glanced at the young girl tending the stall. She looked cold and her eyes were streaming with the bitter wind that blew down the road.

  “No, I think I’ll have it.” I fished into my purse and found the money. The girl grinned as she took it and handed me my purchase.

  “You’ll regret it,” smiled Diamond.

  But I didn’t think I would.

  Ruth seemed to be gone a long time. We had just finished the last performance of Il Trovatore and rehearsals would soon start for Rigoletto. Diamond and I watched the door as we applied the cold cream that would remove our makeup. We were the only ones left in the dressing room since everyone else had escaped as soon as possible.

  “Where the blazes is she?” said Diamond. “He never keeps us in the office for more than five minutes and she’s been gone twenty.”

  Suddenly I had a terrible thought. “Oh, Lord. You don’t think he’s…” I couldn’t say the rest.

  “Propositioning her?” suggested Diamond. I nodded. “Not Mr Perry. He might holler at us but he treats us with respect in that department.”

  Our gaze turned to the door, watching impatiently.

  Ruth appeared her eyes heavy with crying. She was carrying a small box and without saying a word, began throwing her possessions into it. Diamond and I rose to our feet and went across to her.

  “What happened?” asked Diamond, her round, beautiful face full of concern.

  Ruth didn’t answer and continued throwing objects into the box.

  “He hasn’t dismissed you, has he?” I said, my pulse beating wildly in my throat.

  I felt furious. This was intolerable and I wouldn’t put up with it. I was just about to say that I would speak to him myself if he had dismissed her, when she lifted the box and held it against her breast.

  “Goodbye girls. It’s been lovely working with you,” she sighed.

  We put our arms round her and I couldn’t hide my pain. “Oh, Ruth. What did he say? Tell us all about it?” I said softly.

  “He said…He just said,” she sobbed, but then her face broke into a grin. “He thinks I’m too good to be in the chorus. I’m to play Gilda, the seduced daughter of Rigoletto. I have to move to a more private changing room away from you riff-raff.”

  But then her tears became real and poured down her face in an endless stream.

  We hugged her, laughing.

  “Why are you crying?” said Diamond.

  “Because I’m so happy,” she wailed uncontrollably.

  It was unbelievable. After four years, Ruth was finally going to get her chance. Our joy echoed round the large dressing room as we joined hands and did a maniacal dance together.

  Diamond and I couldn’t stop hugging and kissing her. I felt so happy, a genuine happiness that came from my heart and soul. She would make an excellent Gilda and with it came the knowledge that she had started climbing the ladder of success.

  And she was a success. During the next six months, Ruth played more of the main roles and Diamond and I felt so proud of her. We saw her name creeping towards the top of the bill and collected the programmes as souvenirs. As Diamond said, they might be worth a bob or two in ten or twenty years.

  We had mixed feelings when it was announced that Signora Zuchetti was ill and had decided to return to Italy. It was sad that she was unwell, although we weren’t sure what her ailment was. She did look pale and her ‘largeness’ seemed to be disappearing. But when she finally left for her homeland, we gave a collective sigh of relief. Now we wouldn’t have missiles thrown at us or abuse levelled at us every time we were in her vicinity. But most important of all, Miss Ruth Procter became Covent Garden’s prima donna. And Diamond and I remained her loyal friends even when she moved to the magnificent dressing room with the green door.

  In fact, we would meet there after every performance, drinking wine and marvelling at the luxury of the place. She had her own dresser and earned the top wage. But after we had changed out of our costumes, we still went home together to our house in Sampson Street, where Nan and Danny waited for us. We were a family and nothing was going to separate us. Or so I thought.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Soon it would be Christmas. How quickly they seemed to come round. It was now seven years since Daniel and Papa had died, four years since Gwilym and I had last seen each other. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever see him again and my heart ached with regret. My only consolation was that he would always come to see his nephew and that summer he, Nan and Danny had met regularly. With eyes sparkling in excitement, Danny told me how they had played cricket in the park and all the older boys had gathered round to admire his new bat and ball. In the end, he added breathlessly, Uncle Gwilym had organised a match and it had been great fun.

  My son’s education was now in the forefront of my mind and I intended to advertise for a governess in the New Year. He would be seven at the beginning of March and I wanted him to have a thorough grounding in the basic subjects so that he could attend Harrow. I was still in the chorus at Covent Garden so my wages were poor, but I saved my dividend from the Anaconda Mining Company and I knew I could employ a teacher when the time came.

  Danny didn’t like the doctor looking down his throat and squealed in distress. I sat on the side of the bed and held his hand.

  Doctor Eyre felt his head and grunted. “He certainly has a fever, Mrs Asquith and diphtheria is always accompanied by fever.” My heart lurched in my chest. “But his tonsils are a quite swollen, so I would diagnose tonsillitis.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I’ve been up all through the night with him. I really thought it was diphtheria.”

  He gave a chuckle and placed his stethoscope back in his bag. “I think you worry too much. And it’s not a good thing to go diagnosing your own child unless you really need to.”

  “Well, I certainly do worry, but I don’t see what’s wrong with that,” I answered. I was his mother after all and I couldn’t understand why he brushed off my concerns so lightly.

  The doctor gave a crooked smile and shook his head as if amused. “Let him stay in bed until he feels better but no doubt he’ll be wanting to get up very soon. Give him plenty of drinks and only broth to eat. And a bit of calves foot jelly. Anything else will hurt his throat.”

  After I had seen Doctor Eyre to the door, I ran back upstairs.

  “Now, you heard what he said, you must stay in bed for a while.”

  “But I want to get up now, Mama. I feel better now.”

  I stroked his hair and soothed him. “I’ll be here with you. I’ll read you Treasure Island later on if you like.”

  He grinned showing the gap where he had lost his two front baby teeth a month before.

  Doctor Eyre was right and Danny improved over the next few days, his swollen tonsils diminishing with each passing day. He ate his soup and his calves foot jelly without complaint, knowing that by doing so he would get better sooner. He might be six years old, but he was wise for his age. I spent all the time I could with him, running up and down stairs with food, books and sometimes just to sing to him while he fell asleep.

  It was
three days before Christmas and we had decorated the parlour. The tree was glittering with silver and gold stars, the customary gingerbread men and candles and underneath the gifts were waiting to be opened. I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to make my way along to the kitchen with the luncheon tray.

  “Mama, please can I get up. Ple…ease,” said the plaintive cry over the banister.

  “No Danny, go back to bed. You know what the doctor said, you can get up tomorrow.”

  He shuffled his feet sullenly and disappeared back to the bedroom.

  Nan suddenly appeared. “I’ll see to that if you like. I’m going to the kitchen now.”

  I smiled as she took the tray from me and hurried away.

  In the hallway there hung a large oval mirror and as I passed it, my eye caught my reflection and I stopped to take in my appearance. I had celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday the previous summer and the fourteen months we had lived in Sampson Street had been contented. It was amazing how well the four of us got along and Danny seemed to enjoy a house full of women. Ruth’s beautiful soprano was famous all over London and I was happy for her. But every night, Diamond and I took our places in the chorus and dreamed our own dreams.

  I studied my reflection and tucked a strand of loose hair back under a pin.

  “I see you’re still wearing a corset.”

  I didn’t dare turn round. “That’s not a polite thing for a gentleman to say to a lady.” I tried to pretend nonchalance although my heart quickened.

  “But I’m not saying it as a gentleman, but as a doctor.”

  “Ah, but you’re not my doctor.”

  “That’s quite true. All right, I’m saying it as an interested doctor.”

  I sighed. “I daren’t take it off in case my figure starts doing things against my will.”

  “Your figure will be perfectly fine without it. I’ve seen young girls squeezing their bodies into the wretched things, to get waists of twenty inches. Your insides are not meant to take that kind of punishment.”

  I turned to face the man framed in the doorway of the parlour. Behind him I could see Ruth and Diamond sitting on the couch, exchanging mischievous glances. I realised with shock that his dark brown hair had a hint of grey round his ears, but his hazel eyes were as I remembered them, enhanced by the small lines that crinkled pleasantly with his smile. His tanned skin made him look healthy and full of vitality.

  “Hello, Gwilym,” I gulped. “How are you?” I scanned his appearance. “I’ve never seen you in uniform before.”

  He looked down. “It saves wear and tear on my civilian clothes.”

  “You look so smart and handsome.”

  Suddenly he held out his arms to me and I ran into them, trying to choke back tears.

  “I heard about Danny and I thought I’d drop by and see how he is. And I thought we could have a little chat?”

  I nodded as tears trickled down my cheeks. “I’d like that,” I whispered.

  And we did talk, for the next two hours.

  “I’ve seen a lot of the world, Issy and a lot of life. I’ve learnt more about human emotions on my voyages than I ever did at St Bart’s.”

  We were sitting alone in the dining room and I reached across to take his hand. “I’ve missed you so much. I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “I’ve missed you too, but my stubborn pride held me back. I should have answered your letters.” He glanced towards the window. “They say that you can take the man out of the small town, but you can’t take the small town out of the man. Well, I’ve proved to myself and everyone else what a bigoted idiot I can be. It makes me feel ashamed that I’ve treated my sister so abominably and if you don’t want to have anything to do with me, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve always wanted to make amends. Perhaps we can put this all behind us.”

  “Yes, I’d like that,” he smiled. He studied me for a moment. “When I thought you had a…lover, I really believed you had entered a life of decadence and shame.”

  “Decadence and shame? Sounds like an eighteenth century novel or a painting by Hogarth.”

  He gave a wry smile. “What I mean, is that you’d have been spurned by society if you’d gone down that path.”

  “I’m not sure I’m part of society.”

  He gave a snort of contempt. “Not the social set, perhaps. But I doubt you’d have been accepted by the academy or Covent Garden if you’d disgraced yourself in that way. Reputation matters no matter where you are.”

  I didn’t answer him. My mind raced with the thought of what Mr Perry would say if he found out I had borne a child and then sold it. I shuddered at the idea and realised that a factory girl could be dismissed if she had a child out of wedlock, never mind an opera singer.

  “So, do you forgive me?” I asked quietly.

  “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to forgive you for. I could see you had money to spend and…” he gave me a sheepish smile, “I checked the papers and no banks had been robbed.” He stood up abruptly. “Howsoever you got that money is your business not mine.”

  The matter was at an end and I rose to my feet also.

  “I’m glad we’re friends.” I went to him and we hugged each other. “And I promise I’ll never let anything come between us again.”

  “That’s what Ruth said,” he murmured.

  I was startled at the mention of her name. “Ruth?”

  “She said it’s silly to let things get out of hand. Deal with it there and then she said and she’s right.” He held me at arm’s length. “She’s the one that brought us together, Issy. Remember the cricket in the park last summer?” I nodded. “She came with Nan and Danny. She plays terrific cricket. Anyway, she begged me to speak to you and sort it out. Yes, she’s a fantastic batswoman and a beautiful, caring woman as well.”

  I couldn’t hide my smile. “You’ve become friends with her, then?”

  “I have indeed.”

  “Do you know she’s acclaimed all over London? She has standing ovations lasting thirty or forty minutes every evening that she performs.”

  “Yes, I do know. I saw her in Don Giovanni in September. She was unbelievable.”

  “You were there?”

  “I saw you too. And Diamond. But to be honest, my eyes were on Ruth.”

  “Let’s join the others in the parlour,” I said.

  Taking his arm I tried to suppress the grin. My brother was in love and it was wonderful.

  Miss Jean Rupp was a tall, rather skinny woman in her late twenties and she came to see me through the strangest of circumstances. I had placed an advertisement in The Times and had received a reply from none other than Mrs Holland. It came as a great surprise to me when she wrote that she knew a young woman who would be highly suitable for the position of governess to Daniel Barri and would I be so kind as to interview her. I wrote back immediately telling her that I certainly would. I almost added a postscript asking if she kept in touch with Karl and was he well, but my courage failed me.

  And so Miss Rupp appeared in my parlour and since I had stipulated that the successful applicant would not be able to ‘live in’, I was pleased that she lived with her mother only two miles away. As well as being phenomenally tall and skinny, she was also rather plain looking, with mousy brown hair tied back in a tight bun, small pale blue eyes and spectacles perched on a long nose. At first I thought her quite unsuitable to teach my son and couldn’t understand why Mrs Holland had recommended her. Even so, her references were excellent and after thirty minutes of conversation, I discovered she had a very progressive approach to teaching. I told her that Danny was a good reader and could write fairly well.

  “Excellent, that means we can move on to the more interesting stuff. We can do arithmetic, history, geography and natural sciences,” she said briskly.

  “That’s a fairly extensive programme,” I said, wondering if that was rather advanced for my seven-year-old child.

  “Mrs Asquith, I
believe that practical teaching is the best. In order to learn how to calculate money, I’ll take him on the tram and into shops. He’ll have to purchase goods and decide on the change he should be given. I’ll take him to the zoo so that we can discuss the animals from different countries and also he’ll learn to sketch them.” She was in full flow and I knew it would be impossible to stop her. “The Thames is an ideal location to discuss the shipping and what produce they’re importing and exporting. I’d also like to take him to historical places where he can get a taste of history, for example the Tower of London.”

  “Please remember he’s only seven,” I said, feeling alarmed.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “A child of seven can learn much if it’s presented right.” After putting me in my place she continued. “I would like to take him to the museums, so we can study natural sciences and geography and how the ships navigate the world.”

  I was impressed but slightly concerned. “What about schoolroom work?”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of work done in the schoolroom, ma’am. That’s where we consolidate all the information we’ve collected.”

  Yes, I was impressed but I worried about a stranger taking my son on excursions.

  “You must have my permission before you take him anywhere.”

  “Of course, ma’am.”

  “And if I want to accompany you, then I must.”

  She nodded. “Certainly, ma’am.” Her face broke into a smile that transformed and softened her features. “They do say that when a subject is interesting, knowledge creeps in unnoticed.”

  And so she was hired. Her schoolroom would be the dining room and she would come to the house from Monday to Thursday. Although still worried about her intended excursions, the others tried to convince me that I must start letting go of my son.

  “Mustn’t tie him to your apron strings,” Diamond scolded me when I voiced my concerns. “He needs to learn to be more independent and not become Mama’s boy.”