Hettie of Hope Street

by Groves, Annie

  ‘Sez who?’ she demanded. ‘You couldn’t keep time even if it was beaten into yer. That’s why yer at the back of the line and I’m at the front!’

  ‘Who does she think she’s kidding?’ Hettie heard someone else mutter. ‘The only reason she’s still in the bloody chorus at all is because she’s been keeping old Charlie sweet.’

  Fifteen minutes later, squashed up on the narrow wooden bench seats in the snug between Babs and Lizzie, a plate of appetising beef and dumpling stew on the table in front of her, Hettie felt a world away from the person she had been this morning. Her eyes widened as she saw the relish with which the other girls were drinking the port wine they had also ordered.

  ‘Try it,’ Babs urged her.

  Unwilling to be mocked yet again by sharp-eyed Lizzie, Hettie dutifully sipped at the liquid Babs had poured into her empty glass, and then fought not to show how sour and unpleasant she found it, valiantly emptying her glass.

  It was shortly after that she became aware of how very tired she was, and now her eyes were starting to close as her head dropped toward Babs’s shoulder.

  ‘Look at ’er, Babs,’ whispered one of the others. ‘Poor little kid. What a bloody shame.’

  After studying Hettie’s sleeping profile Babs sighed and said determinedly, ‘Come on, we’d better get her back.’

  ‘Lor, Babs, we ain’t bloody nursemaids,’ Lizzie protested, but even her expression softened a little as she looked down at Hettie, sleeping peacefully as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  SEVEN

  It was almost two weeks since Hettie had moved into the boarding house, and in that time she had learned that, behind her sharp manner, Lizzie hid the kindest of hearts, and that she had not just herself to support but her mother and a sick sister as well; that Babs with her easy-going nature was the one who always calmed the others if trouble threatened to erupt; that quiet, blonde Aggie was nursing a broken heart having fallen in love with a theatre manager who was married; that shrewd Mary wasn’t averse to leading on any man if she thought it would benefit her; and that the twins Jenny and Jess were the naughty girls of the troupe, continually playing practical jokes on everyone and getting up to all manner of japes.

  She was now as familiar with the girls’ dance routine and songs as they were themselves, and Babs had taught her all the steps of the modern new dances, including the tango, claiming that she would need to know them just in case, as she had put it, ‘some young spark teks it into ’is head to dance with yer one afternoon. I mean, yer wouldn’t want ter make a fool of yerself by not knowing all the newest steps, would yer?’

  ‘No one would do that,’ she had protested, half shocked, half giggling at the thought of whirling around the Adelphi.

  ‘You’ud be surprised what these young blades will do,’ Babs had warned her darkly.

  But she had not mentioned any of this either on her visit to Connie or in her letters home. Neither had she mentioned the lack of her own bedroom, or the poor food, or the fact that Mrs Buchanan was nowhere near as good or thorough a teacher as Miss Brown, for all the airs she had put on for Ellie’s benefit, and moreover that she frequently cut Hettie’s lessons short so that she could fit in another pupil.

  It was not that she wanted to deceive her family, she assured herself; it was simply that she didn’t want to worry them. Nor had she spoken of the camaraderie that existed between the girls, or what fun they were to be with. Mam and Da were a bit old-fashioned about some things and Hettie thought they might not see beneath the girls’ stage paint and ripe language to the good-heartedness that lay beneath them.

  ‘’Ow did the lesson go today?’ Babs asked her over an illicit cup of tea made in their attic room, dunking a Rich Tea biscuit into the hot liquid before demanding, ‘is she still making yer do them scales?’

  ‘She didn’t today. She said that I’m to go to the Adelphi tomorrow morning and practise there with Mr Buchanan, because the singer I’m to replace has decided to leave sooner than she originally said. Next week I am to make my debut.’ She gave a small shiver of nervous excitement. ‘I do hope that Mam and Da will be able to come over from Preston to hear me.’

  ‘And ’ow are they goin’ to do that, then?’ Lizzie demanded. ‘Cos them bloody waiters turn their noses up at the likes o’ us.’

  ‘My parents are very respectable,’ Hettie protested, pink-cheeked, wanting to defend them without offending Lizzie.

  ‘I ain’t saying they ain’t, but there’s a difference between being respectable and being a toff,’ Lizzie pointed out. ‘And yer ma and pa will need pretty deep pockets if’n they’re to sit at one o’ them tea tables.’

  ‘Stop upsettin’ her, Lizzie,’ Babs ordered. ‘Don’t you worry, ’Ettie, if your folks can’t make it then ’appen some of us u’ll manage to be there. Even if we ’ave to find some way to persuade one o’ them snotty waiters, eh Mary?’

  Hettie smiled, but inwardly she wasn’t sure it would be a good idea for her new friends to be there at her debut. However, since she didn’t want to hurt their feelings, she enquired instead, ‘What about your corn, Babs, is it any better?’

  ‘No, it’s them damned shoes, but if I tell old Basher I need a bigger pair, he’ll give me the ’eave.’

  ‘What? Surely not?’ Hettie protested, indignant on her friend’s behalf.

  ‘’E gets a good deal because he buys all the same size shoes for us,’ Babs told her matter of factly. ‘If’n they don’t fit, you’re out, so we have to pretend they do even if they don’t.’

  ‘But anyway, if yer at a loose end, why don’t you come down to the theatre with us and watch us rehearsin’? It’ud be a sight more fun for you than sitting here on yer own.’

  ‘Could I?’ Hettie asked her enthusiastically.

  ‘Of course, we can allus smuggle yer in, like, if we have to.’

  Hettie could hardly wait to see the girls at work, and a proper stage show being rehearsed. Maybe she would even be able to sing on a stage one day!

  EIGHT

  ‘I am to have my first proper rehearsal at the Adelphi tomorrow and I am to sing there on Thursday afternoon,’ Hettie told Connie excitedly after church on Sunday, as she helped her with the little ones whilst they walked back to the house.

  ‘It all sounds very exciting,’ Connie agreed.

  ‘I have written home to tell Mam. Oh, I do hope they will be able to be there.’ Hettie’s face clouded slightly. She bet someone wouldn’t be coming, and that someone was John. She hadn’t heard from him since their argument and she wondered if they would ever go back to being the close friends they had always been.

  ‘I am sure they will be. I am certainly looking forward to it. I think the last time I went to the Adelphi was when cousin Cecily took us there. You can be sure she will want to come and hear you as well, Hettie, and I dare say she will bring her mama-in-law along too, so you will have some sturdy support from your family for your debut.’

  ‘I think that will make me even more nervous.’ Hettie laughed, and then said uncertainly, unable to shake him from her thoughts, ‘Is John still angry with me, do you know? I know that he doesn’t approve of what I’m doing, but I would so much like him to be there.’

  Connie gave her a swift hug. ‘And so he shall be. I shall be with him myself. And as for him not approving, I dare say it just gave him a bit of a shock to see you looking so grown up. Men can be the oddest of creatures at times.’

  Connie herself had enjoyed the fun she had had as a girl training to be a nurse, and she could see how much Hettie was enjoying her new independent life and the different friends she had made. She had blossomed in less than a month and had a new kind of worldliness about her.

  ‘I just hope that Mam will be well enough to come,’ Hettie continued. ‘When I telephoned yesterday, Mrs Jennings said that she was in bed and feeling sickly.’

  ‘Yes, the unseasonable heat has been pulling her down a little,’ Connie replied hastily. Ellie had said specifically
that she did not wish to make it widely known yet that there was to be a new baby. Thankfully, though, she was no longer worrying so much about her own health or that of the coming baby.

  Later in the day Connie watched indulgently whilst Hettie tucked hungrily into her dinner. All this singing was obviously giving her a good appetite. She was happily unaware that her Sunday dinners were the culinary highlight of Hettie’s week because the meagre amount of ‘pocket money’ she received from Mrs Buchanan was barely enough to buy her one decent meal a day.

  ‘You are enjoying that Madeira cake, Hettie, would you care to take a couple of slices with you to share with your friends?’ Connie invited her.

  ‘Oh yes, please,’ Hettie accepted, unblushingly allowing Connie to parcel up the whole lot for her, knowing that she herself would be the one to eat the lion’s share of it. Then she felt guilty at not sharing with Connie what life was really like at Ma Marshall’s. But as Babs had told her wryly, ‘sometimes it’s best not to let folks at ’ome know just how things are, ’Ettie. Saves ’em worrying then, like.’

  ‘My husband will be waiting for you at the Adelphi, Miss Walker. You will enter the hotel via the staff entrance at the rear of the hotel and not the main entrance – that is reserved for hotel guests. Once you are inside you will ask for the housekeeper and she will see to it that you are escorted to the room Mr Buchanan uses for practice. It would not do at all for the Adelphi’s guests to have their ears subjected to the noise of scales in the main salons.

  ‘You will present yourself at the hotel every morning this week at 10.00 a.m. and you will remain there until Mr Buchanan says that you may leave. Then, provided that he is satisfied with you, on Thursday you will bring with you your stage dress ready for the afternoon’s musical entertainment. Do you understand all of that?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Buchanan,’ Hettie confirmed obediently. She could hardly believe the wait was nearly over!

  ‘Gideon – we don’t often see you up here,’ John greeted his brother-in-law warmly as Gideon stepped out of his car.

  ‘Aye, well if you will choose to make a living in such an outlandish way,’ Gideon joked, automatically ducking as one of John’s students took off, the wings of his flying machine wiggling alarmingly.

  ‘Ellie sent me up with a message for you.’

  ‘Ellie? Is she…’ John began anxiously.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Gideon assured him immediately. ‘It’s Hettie I’m here about. She’s to have her debut performance at the Adelphi this Thursday and she’s said special like that she wants you to be there. Seems she took what you said to her about her frock to heart.’

  ‘I can’t pretend I’m happy about what she’s doing,’ John replied. ‘Or the kind of life she’ll be exposing herself to…’

  ‘Aye, well you’d best blame me for that, John. My thinking is that the lass will soon tire of it and want to come home. Having Connie run off like she did was that upsetting for Ellie I didn’t want to risk it happening again. And Hettie can be headstrong just like all the other Pride women.’

  Reluctantly John allowed himself to smile. Both his sisters were headstrong in their own individual way, and perhaps it was unfair of him to expect Hettie to be any less determined than her adopted mother and aunt.

  ‘Well, that’s as mebbe, Gideon, but it’s my belief that the stage is no place for a decent woman.’

  ‘Aye, but the difference is that Hettie is a singer not an actress. The lass has to have her chance, John. That’s only fair. I’ve seen what happens when a person is denied the right to make their own free choice,’ he added heavily, and John knew he was thinking of the way their own mother had forced Ellie to part from Gideon so many years ago and the unhappiness that had caused them both.

  ‘How’s business?’ Gideon asked him, changing the subject.

  ‘Not as good as I’d like.’

  ‘Having so many men out of work is hurting us all. I’m getting closer to having to lay men off meself, but Ellie is adamant that we’ll cut back at home before she’ll see a working man laid off and his wife and children going hungry. Fortunately, I’ve got a bit put by and even if I have to cut the rents on the properties we should be able to pull through. There’s many a business as won’t, though. They’re saying already that Liverpool has been hit very badly. There’s no shipping to speak of, the docks are lying empty and there’s not much of any other kind of work either. It’s a bad business and no mistake, and the politicians don’t seem to be doing anything about it.’

  ‘There’s a lot of men asking if they survived the war only to be left to starve to death,’ John agreed sombrely.

  ‘Anyway, lad.’ Gideon returned swiftly to his real reason for being there. ‘You’ll be there for Hettie’s debut, won’t you? Only your Ellie will give me a real telling off if you aren’t.’

  John laughed. ‘Yes I’ll be there,’ he promised, even if the thought of seeing Hettie again, and in such a way, caused his heart to skip a beat.

  It was hard for Hettie not to feel both nervous and excited as she hurried across Lime Street towards the Adelphi hotel, skirting the imposing main entrance and going instead to the staff entrance, where she found a group of chambermaids complaining about the meanness of the guests whose rooms they had just been cleaning.

  ‘Not so much as a farthing, they give us, and ’er dripping in diamonds and furs.’

  ‘Just as well then that you helped yourself to her fancy perfume, eh Nancy?’ Hettie heard one of them joke as she squeezed past them.

  ‘’Ere, where do you think you’re going?’ A fat bald uniformed doorman stopped her.

  ‘I’m here to see the housekeeper, Mrs Nevis. I’m the new singer for afternoon tea,’ Hettie explained.

  ‘Well, next time make sure you have a number so as we can sign yer in,’ he warned her before giving her directions for the housekeeper’s room.

  Mrs Nevis told her that she was far too busy to bother herself with her and gave Hettie directions for the room where she would find Mr Buchanan.

  These proved to be so complicated that Hettie had begun to fear she must have misunderstood them as she trudged up endless flights of stairs and along equally endless corridors before finally coming to an open door through which she could hear music being played.

  Having knocked and received no response, she walked hesitantly through the door and into the room. Immediately, the pianist stopped playing and looked at her.

  ‘Mr Buchanan?’ Hettie asked him shyly.

  ‘Yes indeed, and you must be the delightful new protégée whose company I am to have the pleasure of.’

  He was nothing like she had imagined, being small and rotund with black hair as shiny as patent leather pulled in strands across his bald head. But at least he was much jollier and kinder than his wife, Hettie acknowledged with relief.

  ‘Well, my dear wife has excelled herself – you are indeed a pretty child. The ladies will all envy you and their husbands will insist that their wives are to take tea here every day so they can join them and secretly admire you. I hope, my dear, that you have a gown that will do more for that pretty face than the clothes you are currently wearing, eh?’ he asked jovially, pinching Hettie’s cheek. ‘A gentleman likes nothing more than to be able to admire a neat ankle and a delicate shoulder.

  ‘And a word to the wise. When you sing, it is towards the ladies you must look, but making sure when you do that the gentlemen can also see you at your best advantage. Maisie knew to a nicety how it should be done, but unfortunately she has grown above herself and must go. So, my beloved helpmate has been making you practise your scales, I hope, and now today you will sing them for me.’

  Obediently Hettie took off her jacket and turned to face him.

  ‘No, no.’ Immediately, and to Hettie’s shock, he placed his hands on her body, one on her arm and the other on her waist, holding her so tightly she could feel their hot clamminess through her clothes.

  ‘You must stand by the piano like so,’ he told he
r, manipulating her so that she was turned away from the instrument and with her back to it. ‘You are to sing to the ladies, and not to me. However, if you were to be asked to sing in the evening then you would stand close to my shoulder and perhaps even lean forwards to turn my music for me. But then an evening audience is a very different thing and mostly for the gentlemen guests. Now, shall we try again?’

  It was four o’clock before Mr Buchanan declared himself satisfied enough with her progress to dismiss her for the day, by which time Hettie was starving, since they had not stopped for any lunch.

  Rather than go back to the boarding house she decided that, since it was virtually only across the road, she might as well go to the Royal Court and walk back with the other girls as their matinée performance would now have finished.

  Frankie the doorman knew her by now and grinned as he let her in through the stage door. ‘They’ve just come orf,’ he told her.

  Squeezing past him, Hettie made her way backstage to the large communal dressing room shared by the chorus.

  ‘’Ere ’Ettie, come over ’ere and tell us ’ow you’ve gorn on,’ Lizzie called out when she saw her.

  Eagerly Hettie made her way through the busy room filled with chorus girls, no longer embarrassed as she would once have been by their various states of undress.

  A mirror ran the length of one whole wall of the long rectangular room, with an equally long ‘dressing table’ top beneath it. Each girl was supposed to have her own small section of this table and her own chair, just as each girl was also supposed to have to herself one of the lockers on the opposite wall, and a coat hook. But as Babs had explained to Hettie, since there was never enough dressing table and mirror space or lockers, it was a case of first come first served, and frequent arguments and fights broke out amongst the girls over who owned what.

  From one of the shorter walls, a door opened into the domain of the wardrobe mistress, and what space there was left was filled with racks of costumes all jumbled together.