‘And you believed ’im? Why the ’ell would you need a singing teacher anyway? I’m surprised at you, ’Ettie. I didn’t think you was that sort of girl,’ Babs told her loftily. ‘I thought you was a proper decent sort.’
‘I am,’ Hettie insisted, but Babs had already turned over in her bed, and pulled the bedclothes up over her ears.
TWENTY-ONE
‘’Ettie, the postman’s just been and there’s a letter ’ere for you…’
Hurrying down the stairs, Hettie picked up the envelope Aggie was waving in the air, her heart thudding against her chest wall as she recognised Gideon’s writing. ‘It’s from me Da,’ she told Aggie as she hurried to open it.
‘Well, you’d better read it quick, like, otherwise we’ll be late for rehearsals.’
‘Oh, it’s all right, I’ve been excused this morning,’ Hettie told her absently as she pulled the sheets of paper out of the envelope. ‘Jay wants me to meet this new singing teacher he’s found for me.’
She was too anxious to read her letter to notice the exaggerated eye-rolling look Aggie gave Babs before saying sharply to Hettie, ‘Oh ho, it’s all right for some, isn’t it? Private singing lessons. Next thing we know you’ll be going to rehearsals in a chaffeur-driven car, wiv your nose stuck up in the air. Well, seein’ as how as we ain’t considered good enough to have private lessons, we’d better be on our way,’ Aggie said sharply. ‘Come on, Babs.’
‘Give us a minute,’ Babs begged her. ‘’Ettie, you won’t forget that we’re all going to Sam’s Chop House tonight on account of it being Sukey’s birthday, will you?’ she asked, opening the front door to their lodgings and letting in a gust of raw February air that made Hettie shiver.
‘Of course I won’t forget,’ Hettie assured her as she closed the door after her friends.
As she climbed the stairs, Hettie admitted to herself a little guiltily that she was quite pleased that she would have their room to herself so that she could read her letter in private.
Gideon started off by saying how pleased he and Ellie both had been to read the reviews Hettie had sent them, and how proud of her they were.
‘You will be pleased to know, Hettie, that your Mam is much recovered, both in spirits and in body, and that we intend to make our way home to Preston.’
There was a second page to the letter and when Hettie turned to it, she gasped, quick tears filling her eyes as she recognised Ellie’s writing.
Her hands trembling she spread out the single sheet and read it eagerly.
‘Hettie, love,’ Ellie had written. ‘I am sorry to have caused you all so much anxiety and worry, but as Gideon has written I am now much more my old self. Hettie, I so much want to see you, my dearest. Could you, would you come home to us at Easter? I shall understand if it is not possible for I have read your reviews and know what a famous person you are become. We are both so proud of you, Hettie, and so excited for you.’
Ellie had signed the letter, ‘Your loving Mam.’
Laughing and crying at the same time Hettie read it again and then a third time. Just as she had previously been glad to have their room to herself, now she wished equally intensely that Babs were here so that she could share her happiness with her. Only now reading the words Ellie had written to her, could Hettie admit how much she had feared that Ellie was lost to her for ever and that she would never recover from her grief.
Hurriedly she searched for her writing paper. They would not have returned to Preston yet, of course, but she wanted her letter to be there waiting for them when they did so that they could know how happy she was and how much she was looking forward to seeing them.
Half an hour later, on her way to the theatre to meet the singing teacher Jay had chosen for her, Hettie stopped off to post her letter.
The match sellers were already standing in a huddled row outside the theatre itself, waiting for the matinée audience. The sight of them, once brave fighting men but now reduced to poverty, tore at Hettie’s heart and she remembered how both Ellie and Gideon had always shown generosity to those poorer than themselves.
Opening her purse she hurried up to the first of the men and gave him several pennies, hurrying down the whole line of men to do the same thing until her purse was empty.
‘Bless you for that, Miss, and for your kind heart,’ the last one told her hoarsely, tears shining in his eyes.
Jay had told her that she was to go straight to his office, and when she got there she found that he was already inside, speaking with a woman so large that there was scarcely any room for Hettie herself to squeeze in to the room with them.
‘Oh Hettie. Good, you are here. Madame Bertrice, please allow me to introduce to you my protégée, Miss Hettie Walker.’
The large body somehow swivelled in Hettie’s direction, a sharp glance from two small dark eyes, the colour of raisins, raking her from head to foot.
‘She does not have the bosom for a powerful voice,’ Madame Bertrice announced dismissively.
‘Nor has she had the benefit of your famed teaching skills,’ Hettie heard Jay saying smoothly. ‘Unfortunately, the bosom we cannot do anything about, but as for your teaching…’
‘Ah, you hope to persuade me to take your protégée as a pupil by flattering me, Monsieur. Well, I will tell you that I am not easily flattered, not even by a man as handsome as you.’
Not easily flattered and not easily bought, either, Jay decided cynically, reflecting wryly on the amount Madame was demanding as her fee.
‘You, girl.’
Hettie tried not to react when the Madame Bertrice woman jabbed a finger into her ribs.
‘Let me hear your scales.’
Uncertainly, Hettie looked at Jay, who gave a small nod of his head.
Taking a deep breath, Hettie began.
‘I thought you told me the girl could sing?’ Madame told Jay derisively when she had waved Hettie into silence. ‘That is not singing.’
‘Maybe not, but you will acknowledge that she does have a remarkably clear, if untrained, soprano lyric voice,’ Jay said coolly.
Madame Bertrice shrugged dismissively. ‘Oui, she does have a soprano voice, but what of that? Pfff, it is nothing. To be a truly great diva one needs to possess a truly magnificent voice.’
‘But I do not want to be a diva,’ Hettie said fiercely.
The sharp gaze raked her again. ‘No? Then why do you waste my time?’
‘What Hettie means is that she does not want to be an operatic diva,’ Jay explained, giving Hettie a quelling look.
They both looked at Hettie, making her feel both self-conscious and angry.
‘I do not know what I can do with her,’ Madame Bertrice declared disparagingly.
‘Thank you, Hettie, you may go now,’ Jay told her abruptly, opening the door for her to leave.
Madame Bertrice was not leaving, though, Hettie saw crossly. No doubt the moment she had gone Madame would start telling Jay that he was wasting his time even thinking about lessons for her.
It was over an hour before Hettie was summoned back to Jay’s office.
‘I do not want you to waste your money on singing lessons for me, Jay,’ she told him fiercely. ‘Madame Bertrice made it plain that she does not think my voice is good enough.’
‘We can discuss this better tonight – over dinner.’ Jay smiled at her. ‘Hudson will be waiting for you in the car after the show, and I shall instruct him to take you to the Ritz.’
‘Oh Jay, I’m sorry but I can’t.’
His smile gave way to a frown. ‘Why not?’ he asked her sharply.
‘It’s Sukey’s birthday and we’re all going out to Sam’s Chop House,’ Hettie explained uncomfortably as Jay continued to frown, very obviously displeased.
‘Surely your career is more important to you than this Sukey, whoever she might be,’ he remarked irritably.
‘Sukey is one of the chorus girls,’ Hettie explained earnestly.
‘Oh, a chorus girl.’ Jay shrugged dismi
ssively. ‘Why should she be of any concern to you, Hettie?’
‘She’s one of my friends,’ Hettie told him, shocked by his attititude and his casual dismissal of Sukey. ‘And if I don’t go…’
‘What do you mean, if you don’t go?’ Jay challenged her curtly. ‘I thought we understood one another, Hettie, and that we were agreed that nothing should come in the way of our shared ambition to see you succeed on Broadway. That is, after all, why I am paying for you to have singing lessons as well as commissioning Archie to write a musical that will showcase you.’
Guiltily, Hettie realised how ungrateful she must seem.
‘And besides,’ Jay continued. ‘If this Sukey is so much of a friend to you as you say, she is bound to understand.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘You can have supper with her another night, after all.’
John reached inside his jacket and removed Gideon’s letter from his pocket as he opened the door to his private quarters. The letter had been there since the post had arrived much earlier in the day, but he had had a busy morning with two flying lessons booked, and this was his first opportunity to have some time to himself.
He made his way into his neat kitchen, where he filled the kettle and lit the gas stove. Whilst he waited for the kettle to boil he opened the envelope and removed the letter. Several newspaper cuttings fell out. Frowning slightly, John leaned over to pick them up, studying them curiously.
‘Miss Hettie Walker is Princess Mimi.’
His heart struck a sledgehammer blow against his chest wall, almost depriving him of breath.
Still frowning he put the cuttings down on the table, carefully smoothing them out, and then began to read them, Gideon’s letter forgotten until the shrill whistle of the boiling kettle jerked him out of his concentration.
Almost absently he reached for the kettle, then switched off the gas before pouring the boiling water into the teapot, still reading and re-reading the critics’ praise for Hettie. He replaced the kettle on the stove and searched through the cuttings, and then the letter itself and the envelope, wondering if there might be a cutting which contained a photograph of Hettie. He felt both disappointed and relieved once he had assured himself that there wasn’t.
He poured himself a cup of tea, stirred it, then took his drink and went to sit down at the small kitchen table so that he could read Gideon’s letter. The news it contained about Ellie eased some of his tension. He was relieved to read about her recovery, both for her sake and for Gideon’s.
He frowned suddenly as he heard someone knocking on the door to his private quarters. No one normally disturbed him when he was here unless it was urgent. He got up and pushed back the chair before striding through the kitchen and past the small, almost Spartan parlour into the narrow hallway, dodging the mounted stag’s head, complete with antlers, that the previous occupant of the flat had left on the wall.
‘John. At last. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to let me in.’
‘Lady Polly!’
Polly shook her head vigorously. ‘How many times must I beg you not to call me “Lady” Polly, John?’ she appealed to him, pulling off her driving gloves as she hurried in, leaving John with no option other than to close the door behind her and then take the fur-lined coat she was holding out to him.
‘I do so hate February. It is the very worst kind of month, at least here in England. I have tried to persuade Alfie to take me ski-ing, but he says he is too busy. Do you ski, John? Winter sports are frightfully jolly.’
‘No, I don’t,’ John told her, a mental image of the snow-covered slope in Preston’s park flashing inside his head, along with an image of himself sitting on the sledge he had made for Hettie, with her sitting in front of him, clinging to him as they sped downhill, her small rosy face alight with pleasure.
‘John, come back, you aren’t listening to me,’ he heard Polly complaining.
‘I’m sorry.’
Polly laughed and put her hand on his arm. ‘Oh John, you are such a darling. It would be so very easy for me to fall in love with you, if only things were different and I wasn’t still so very much in love with my dearest Ollie. I suppose you are going to tell me that I am interrupting your work, and that you are very busy.’
She was all bright chatter but John was still uneasily aware of the stark despair he could see in her eyes. She was lonely, and she wanted to fill the empty place in her heart and her life. John knew exactly how that felt. But there was a huge social gulf between them and he was also aware that her frequent visits to the flying school were beginning to make her the subject of innuendo and gossip.
‘We are busy,’ he agreed, ‘and in fact I was just about to go back to the office.’
‘You just want to get rid of me, don’t you?’ Polly remarked as John started to walk towards the kitchen intending to get his jacket. ‘You don’t want me here.’
‘What I don’t want is for anyone to accuse me of behaving improperly towards you,’ John corrected her quietly.
‘Oh, for heavens sake, why should it be improper for us to be friends?’
They had reached the kitchen. John removed his jacket from the back of the chair and started to put it on. ‘You know why.’
‘Because you are a man and I am a woman? Or because I am a Lady and you are not a Lord?’ Polly demanded emotionally.
‘Both,’ John replied equably.
‘Oh!’ Polly exclaimed, suddenly distracted as she looked down at the table. ‘I didn’t know you were interested in the theatre?’
‘I’m not,’ John responded shortly.
‘But you are obviously interested in Miss Hettie Walker?’ Polly quizzed him archly.
‘Hettie is my sister Ellie’s step-daughter.’
‘Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, John. You must be very proud of her. What is it, John? What’s wrong?’ Polly asked him when he made no response.
‘I’ve got someone coming for a lesson in fifteen minutes.’
‘You don’t want to talk about her, do you? Why not? Is it because she is more to you than merely your sister’s step-daughter? Oh John, she is, isn’t she?’ Polly guessed when he didn’t respond. ‘You love her, don’t you, and you can never love anyone else, just as I can never love anyone other than my Ollie…’
‘You not ready yet, ’Ettie? The others have already gone on to the chop house with Sukey. Not that she’s likely to eat anything,’ Babs announced as she watched Hettie removing the last of her stage make-up.
‘Babs, I can’t come with you.’
‘What? Why not?’
‘Well…It’s all very difficult,’ Hettie began awkwardly. ‘You see, Jay…’
Immediately Babs’s smile disappeared. ‘Oh, I might have guessed,’ she said angrily. ‘You don’t want to know us any more now that ’e’s tekking a bit of interest in you. Well, mark my words, ’Ettie Walker, you’re a fool if you let ’im turn your head, cos like I’ve told you before, he’s a married man when all’s said and done and even if he weren’t there’s only one thing ’is sort want from our sort.’
‘Babs, it isn’t like that,’ Hettie protested, red-faced. ‘It’s like I’ve already told you, Jay just wants to see me to talk about work.’
‘Give over. I weren’t born yesterday.’ Babs snorted. ‘If it were work he wanted to talk to you about what’s to stop him doing it when you’re here at work? No.’ She shook her head forcefully. ‘It’s yer drawers he’s wanting to get into, ’Ettie. Just like Mary’s posh toff is after wanting to get into ’ers. ’Ettie, love.’ She reached out and took hold of Hettie’s hands. ‘Don’t go letting him turn your head.’
‘Babs, he isn’t doing. It isn’t like that. It really is about work. And I’ve got to think about my future, Babs, and…’
‘Oh I see, and this future of yours is more important than Sukey’s birthday, is it?’ Babs challenged her, her concern turning to a hostility that made Hettie’s face burn with discomfort.
‘It isn’t like that,’ she protested again miserably. F
irst Jay had been angry with her when she had told him about Sukey’s birthday, and now Babs was equally angry with her because she had told her about Jay.
‘Well, it sounds to me like we just aren’t good enough for you any more,’ Babs continued accusingly before heading for the door and then slamming it behind her as she left.
There was a painful lump in Hettie’s throat and tears weren’t very far away. Babs was the first real friend she had made at the boarding house in Liverpool, and Hettie felt as close to her as though she were an older cousin. It had never occurred to her that Babs would react the way she just had, and Hettie longed to be able to run after her and tell her that she had changed her mind. But how could she when she knew how angry Jay would be? He had gone to such a lot of trouble and expense on her behalf. So much so, in fact, that she felt duty bound to do as he wished and give up the pleasure of her evening out with her friends so that Jay could talk to her about his plans.
The dressing room door opened and Hettie spun round, her face breaking into a relieved smile. Babs had come back! Only it wasn’t Babs who came hurrying into the room, but Mary.
‘T’others have gone, have they, only I don’t want another lecture from Aggie.’ Mary pulled a face. ‘Course, it’s just on account of ’er being jealous, I know that. But wot you doing here, ’Ettie?’
‘I’m having dinner with Jay,’ Hettie felt obliged to tell her. ‘He wants to talk to me about my singing.’
‘It seems to me that you and me has sommat in common, now, ’Ettie,’ Mary declared. ‘We’d better stick together you and me, so as we can stick up for each other when one of the others has a go at us. You ’aven’t got a spare pair of stockings handy, ’ave you?’ she asked. ‘Only I’ve laddered one of mine.’
‘Yes. Here you are,’ Hettie told her, proferring her spare pair.
‘Oh, ta ever so,’ Mary thanked her. ‘And can I pinch a bit of yer scent as well?’
Hettie of Hope Street Page 23