“Too bad,” Hilda said with a sigh. “But we were warned, you know.”
“I know,” Fanny said in a low murmur. But she could not believe it. Then her disbelief turned to anger that her father should do this. Give way to his weakness in this fashion! After all his talk about her having helped him with his drink problem! It had meant nothing! He had let her down before the company.
She made her way backstage and saw Barnaby standing waiting for his cue to go onstage. He was wearing the make-up of the Squire and dressed in his costume. All the company were now aware that her father was absent.
David came by her and said, “So it has happened! He has finally let us down!”
“Don’t!” she said in a near sob, and turned from him.
“I’m sorry,” David said. “It doesn’t matter. Barnaby will do the part. No one will be hurt but your father.” They had no further time to discuss the matter as the curtain had gone up and the play was beginning.
Chapter Six
The performance that evening was an ordeal for Fanny. It took all her training and courage to help her carry on in the light-hearted role in which she was cast. She knew the others in the company were sympathetic but this did little good. At last the curtain fell on the last act, she took her bows and then was free to retreat from the stage.
Downstairs she hurriedly went about removing her make-up with the thought of going out and making the rounds of the local taverns in search of her father. Her anger with him had now given away to concern.
Old Hilda Asquith was considerate of her state and said, “Don’t take it too badly, my dear. Barnaby won’t dismiss your father for this one lapse.”
Tearfully, she turned to the old woman and said, “It is just that I hoped it would never happen.”
“He has done well all this time,” the character actress said. “You must remember that and not be too harsh in your judgement of him.”
Fanny rose from her chair and began to put on her street clothes. She said, “I simply wish to find him now and take care of him.”
“That is the proper spirit,” Hilda agreed.
“Perhaps David will come with me,” she said with a sigh as she started out of the room.
She did not get far as she was met by Barnaby Samuels in the doorway of the dressing room. She saw at a glance that the old actor-manager had bad news for her. His worn face was solemn.
In a tight voice, she asked, “Some news?”
“Yes,” the kindly old man said. “Word has just been sent me. We were wrong in blaming your father for not arriving in time for the performance. He did not give way to his weakness again.”
“Thank goodness!” she said. “But what detained him?”
Barnaby Samuels placed a hand on her arm. “You must be strong, dear girl. Let your belief in the Almighty sustain you in this sad twist of fate!”
“What is it?” she demanded, frightened.
“Your father was run down by a lorry as she was making his way to the theatre,” Barnaby Samuels said. “He had not been drinking. It was just that the lorry rounded a corner suddenly. Your father was killed in an instant!”
“No!” she said brokenly and began sobbing bitterly. The manager helped her back into her chair and Hilda Asquith came to tend to her.
Everything that followed was confused in Fanny’s mind. David and the other members of the company came and offered their sympathy, and it was David who saw her home to their lodgings in a carriage. Barnaby Samuels made the funeral arrangements with the local undertaker, sparing her that sad duty.
The body was laid out in the parlor of the lodging house. Happily, Ernest Hansom’s upper body showed no sign of the injuries which had taken his life. He looked sternly noble and serene as he lay in his casket. And Fanny was touched by the number of townspeople who came to offer their respects to the veteran actor who had entertained them so well.
Barnaby Samuels stood with her at the end of the room as they watched the line of townspeople paying their last respects. The actor-manager said, “He could not have been afforded a better farewell in London! These people had come to truly know his worth!”
Fanny stood there in sorrowful silence, thinking of the plans she and her father had made. How happy he had been at the prospect of returning to London and his desire to help her and David with their careers! Those plans were completely shattered now.
She said, “It was his dream to appear in London again.”
“He might have known disappointment,” Barnaby Samuels pointed out. “He had lost his reputation for reliability there. To have returned and not been accepted could well have put him back on the road to drink. Perhaps this way it is best.”
Fanny did not attempt to argue with the kindly old man. She maintained a calm demeanor in her sorrow. And when she attended the funeral service in the Wenside Anglican Church and saw him buried in the small cemetery next to it she preserved her dignity. David was at her side as the last sod was turned over the grave. Then they left the cemetery together.
Back at the lodging house Barnaby Samuels sat with her and David over glasses of port. Barnaby said, “My dear, I gather you know I’m giving up management at the end of the month.”
“I know there have been some rumors,” Fanny agreed. She did not intend to reveal that she and her father had discussed this along with their plans for the future.
“I am too old for touring,” Barnaby went on. “I have saved enough to retire. I plan to return to Rigby and live at the inn there.”
She said, “That is suitable, since Rigby saw the start of your last successful season.”
“Quite so,” the actor-manager, agreed. “I have had some concern about breaking up this fine company. Never has a manager known more loyal co-workers.”
“True,” she said. “But you have operated the company in a manner to warrant our loyalty, as I’m sure David agrees.”
The handsome, brown-haired David nodded. “That is so, sir. I have never known a more contented company.”
“Which made my decision to put them out of work all the more difficult,” the old man said. He beamed at David and went on, “Happily this young man, this fine actor, has brought an end to my dilemma!”
“David!” she said in surprise.
David smiled at her modestly. “It is true, Fanny. I have enough savings to carry on the company. That is what I propose to do. From now on it will be my company, headed by you and me.”
“What do you say to that?” Barnaby Samuels asked happily, fully expecting her to be pleased by the news. “I hope this will lessen the sorrow of your father’s passing. He would be delighted that you will be starring in this new company.”
She was at a loss for words. How could she explain what she and her father had been planning and make David understand? He would be bound to think she and her father had been plotting behind his back. And he was obviously so pleased with this new project that she did not have the heart to show no enthusiasm for it.
She turned to David and said, “I’m proud of you, David. I’m sure you will make a success of the company.”
David reached out and took her hand in his. His eyes met hers. “It will be our success!”
She sighed. “Yes. I’m certain all the company will be delighted at the news.”
David said, “I will have to find someone to replace your father. I will not be able to get anyone of his ability but Barnaby has kindly given me some names.”
“And I shall continue to play your father’s roles in the new company until another actor arrives,” Barnaby said. “There is nothing I won’t do to ensure the happiness of you fine young people.”
“Thank you, sir,” David said. “It is my intention, soon after we begin with the new company, that Fanny and I should be married. With her father gone, I can think of no one whom we would rather have give the bride away than you.”
“I shall be delighted,” Barnaby Samuels said with obvious emotion. “Fanny has become dear to me.”
She smiled in a wan fashion, appalled at her feeling of suddenly being fenced in. These two men were happily going about making plans for her future, indeed for her whole life. And they were not what she and her father had decided upon. Not at all. She had the frantic apprehension that if she married David and went on acting with him in the provinces it would be the end of both their careers. Children would come and they would put off changing their way of life and neither of them would ever set foot on a London stage.
They left Barnaby Samuels to enjoy another glass of port and went out to stroll in the sun of the warm April afternoon. David walked with her silently for a little. Then he halted and stared at her.
“You don’t seem pleased with this new turn of events,” he said. “I can understand it under the circumstances. You are bound to be mourning your father for a while. But I would like to have your approval of what I’m embarking on.”
She felt it was her chance to try and place her father’s plan before him. She said, “David, I would like the company to continue. But do you really think we should remain in the provinces?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Isn’t it about time we tried London?”
His face darkened. “I know where that idea came from. Your father was forever talking to you about London. He put those notions into your head.”
“What is wrong with them?”
“I don’t think I’m ready,” he said. “Nor are you! Let me gain some experience with my own company. Then we shall move on to London.”
“After we are married?”
“Yes.”
“And before I have children,” she said. “We should make the break and go to London now before we have any encumbrances.”
David looked astounded. “I can’t believe you mean it!”
“I do. Most truly!”
“What will happen to the company?” he asked.
“We can remain until Barnaby finds someone else to take it over,” she said. “It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks. The company is a paying proposition; there should be a lot of interested parties.”
“There won’t be any,” David declared. “I am going to buy it and that’s that. Forget this London business for a while.”
She was let down by his decision and his tone. “You won’t even consider my plan?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry, Fanny. You know I love you and want to do what is best for you. And I’m sure this is best.”
“I see,” she said with a sigh.
He placed an arm around her. “Think about the wonderful days ahead with our own company. We shall become the favorites of these industrial towns. Make a triumphant tour each year. The crowds should grow every time we return!”
She resumed walking. “I can see it is your dream.”
“Only because I have you to share it,” he told her.
On that afternoon a desperate plan was born in Fanny’s mind. She knew that she must leave David and the company. There was no other way for her to survive as an individual. Her father had shared her dream of a career in London. David would put it off forever, until London was a lost opportunity for both of them.
Her choice was to follow her father’s idea. Now she began her most difficult acting, but it was done off-stage. She made a pretence of going along with David’s plan at the same time as she coached one of the new girls in the company, who showed a special aptitude, in her roles. The girl’s name was Maude Lyons and Fanny worked with her in secret.
When she had first invited Maude to her room one morning and suggested coaching her in the parts she played, the girl had shown surprise. “But why, Miss Hastings?” she’d asked.
Fanny said, “I do not have an understudy. Father’s accident and death have taught me what slim threads hold our existence together. I could be injured or become ill and no one could take over quickly.”
The girl began to understand. “But have I the ability? I’m so new in the business!”
“I have chosen you,” Fanny said, “precisely because you have the talent. I do not want jealousy from any of the others, so we must do this in secret.”
“Very well, miss,” Maude Lyons said with an excited look on her pleasant face. “But I hope I never get to play any of the parts since it would mean you were ill!”
Fanny smiled and pointed out, “There could be other reasons. You know there is talk that Mr. Cornish and I are to wed. I would not wish to work during our honeymoon.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” the delighted young actress said. “I shall labor very hard at learning the parts.”
“Good!” Fanny said. “Let us begin at once!”
• • •
Maude proved an apt student. She also had more than average ability. Within a fortnight she had learned all Fanny’s various roles. The time had come for Fanny to put her plan into operation. She chose a mid-week so that David would have to remain on the stage and make no attempt to follow her.
The night before she left he came to her room for their usual lovemaking. She catered to him with a passion born of knowing they would not be together again for a long while, perhaps never.
She saw him to the door when it was over and he kissed her tenderly. He said, “All those London notions out of your head, dearest?”
Fanny nodded. “We can worry about that later. I’m so terribly fond of you, David. You mustn’t ever forget that!”
He touched his lips to her temple. “Our lives together will be perfect. I promise you!”
She closed the door after him and, still nude, stood there leaning against it. A wry look passed over her lovely face with her tousled red hair falling about her shoulders to accentuate her beauty. A shaft of moonlight shone in through the window and she stared at it. She could almost see Ernest Hansom standing there in the blue light.
Aloud, she murmured, “Do not worry, Father. I have not turned traitor to our dream!”
That night she slept little. The following day she made a trip to the Wenside Railway Station and bought a ticket to London on the train which left at seven-thirty that evening. It would be eight before her disappearance was discovered and by that time she would be well on her way to the great city.
Because of the secrecy of her plan she could only take one small valise with her. In a way it was a repeat of her first visit to London. Only this time she hoped she would be more fortunate. She at least knew something of the city and would not end up wandering the streets as she had that first time.
She wrote a farewell letter telling David that she was determined to follow through with her father’s dream and conquer the London theatre world. She warned him not to try to follow her but to continue on his own way. She again told him how much she cared for him, but that she did not want to marry him at this time in her life. She explained that Maude Lyons could immediately step into her roles without the company suffering in any way.
During the late afternoon she stopped by the Opera House and gave the sealed message to the porter there. She instructed him not to deliver it to David Cornish until eight o’clock. When she was sure he had her instructions clearly in his head she gave him a shilling tip.
Her excitement grew as the evening approached. David always went early to the theatre to check on the box office and other matters of business. Sometimes she walked there in company with Hilda Asquith, but tonight she told the older woman she was leaving early. She had hidden her valise downstairs and when she left she had it with her and went directly to the railway depot rather than to the theatre.
She wondered if the porter might have forgotten her careful instructions and given the farewell letter to David early. As she waited on the wooden platform by the rails with several other passengers she worried that at any moment a seething David might show up and demand that she return to the theatre with him. She kept looking in the direction of the street but no one came.
At last the train arrived and she stood in line to board it with the other p
assengers. Fortunately there was no one in the compartment she chose who recognized her. There were two travelling salesmen and a lady who had been to Wenside to attend the funeral of her sister. Fanny engaged in a conversation with this woman, saying that she had just come from the burial of her father, and with this common bond they became quite friendly.
The journey to London was a tense one for Fanny since she was still by no means sure that David would not try to follow her. When they reached the bustling, dirty London railway terminal she made her way directly to the hackney cab stand where she parted company with the other woman.
After a porter had helped her into the cab she told the driver the name of a hotel which Silas Hodder had once mentioned as being most respectable and reasonable, which was how Fanny came to spend the first night of her return to London in the Strand Hotel.
Once again she slept little. But by the next morning she was much more her own woman. She ate an early breakfast and then hired a cab to take her to the bakery where Silas Hodder had said he might be given a room. By a stroke of good fortune she found him there at the same table where she had eaten with him so often, looking his same, shabby self with his long gray hair still drooping on his shoulders and the battered old top hat crowning his skull-like face.
With a delighted smile he rose to greet her. “How clever of you to find me!” he said.
“I was almost certain you’d be here,” she said with a smile, seating herself beside him at the plank table. “You said they were going to give you a room.”
“And I have earned it,” Silas Hodder told her. “A few weeks ago thieves tried to enter and I scared them off. They seemed to think I was a spectre, due to my long sojourn in the tomb, no doubt!”
“No doubt!” she laughed.
“So now I have a free room and meals here,” he said. “I still ply my beggar’s trade in the taverns and all is well with me. What about you?”
“It is a long story,” she said with a sigh. “For one thing I found my father!”
“By Jupiter!” Silas Hodder said with surprise.
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