The Songbird (37 page)

He heaved a sigh. ‘Wonderful!' He smiled. ‘You are most obliging, Miss Mazzini. So very accommodating! You wouldn't believe the trouble I have sometimes with a temperamental cast.'

She smiled sweetly and said, ‘You caught me in a good frame of mind, Mr Vine.' She didn't want him to think he could manipulate her. ‘A contract is binding, after all. And I'll write to my agent and tell him to make sure it doesn't happen again.'

He nodded. ‘Quite right,' he said. ‘I do apologize. It's just that Miss Gosse has played the part so often and I might want her to play it again, whilst you . . .' He looked at her and there was a twinkle in his eyes. ‘You will no doubt be spreading your wings elsewhere?'

‘Perhaps I will,' she said. ‘But you haven't heard me sing yet, Mr Vine, so how do you know?' She was being bold, she knew, but felt she had to appear self-assured.

He gave her a little bow and stretched out his hand towards the stage. ‘Then let's begin.'

She ran through a repertoire of popular songs from the music hall and then lyrical pieces, waltzes, sweet melodies and songs of love. She could sing without accompaniment, but there was a pianist down in the orchestra pit who played quietly in the background, picking up the harmony as she sang.

‘Well done,' Fred Vine said as she finished. ‘Lovely!' He gazed at her for a moment and then said, ‘You are young for this kind of role, Miss Mazzini.' He nodded thoughtfully. ‘But you have a voice beyond your years. Nurture it, and it will serve you well.' He smiled. ‘You'll go far.'

‘Thank you,' she said, and gave a deep breath of contentment.

‘I could quite hope that Miss Gosse won't turn up,' he murmured. ‘But even if she does I will create a role for you. We can't let that voice go to waste.'

When she wasn't at rehearsal or studying the role of the Good Spirit, she spent as much time as she could helping out in the shop. But trade was slack. She saw few of her father's regular customers, and this bothered her. She harboured the suspicion that Lena and Albert's attitude had driven them away, for they both had an indifferent disposition towards the people who came in. They sullenly served coffee and biscuits to those who wanted refreshments, and stood around as if waiting for them to leave so that they could clear away.

Poppy's father came back into the shop midweek and found that Albert had rearranged the grocery shelves, which were in any case much emptier than usual. ‘Where are 'tinned peas and haricot beans?' Joshua asked one morning whilst Poppy was out. ‘And 'jars of barley sugar? And where've you put 'Pontefract Cakes and liquorice sticks? Everything's been moved!'

‘I shifted 'confectionery so that the bairns didn't put their sticky fingers in it. Too much temptation,' Albert said glumly. ‘That's what Lena said, anyway.'

‘Candy and confectionery needs to be at 'front so that they can see it,' Joshua said. ‘We want them to be tempted, otherwise they don't buy. And them tinned peas should be on 'bottom shelf so we can get at them easier. They're a regular seller in winter, same as dried peas.' He looked round. ‘Are we out? Do we need another sack?'

Lena appeared at the door. ‘I've to take another order to 'supplier. I've been busy whilst you've been sick,' she said accusingly. ‘I've not had time and Albert couldn't go, seeing as he's been minding the shop.'

‘But why hasn't Turner been to take our order? He comes regular every week.'

Lena's eyes shifted. ‘He didn't have what we wanted when he came last time, so I told him not to bother coming back again. I've found another supplier.'

Joshua put a hand to his forehead. Things seemed to going terribly wrong. ‘Who?' he asked. ‘Which one?'

‘Cassell,' she muttered reluctantly.

‘But he's bankrupt!' Joshua exploded. ‘And he was accused of selling stolen goods.'

‘Wasn't proved!' She glared at Joshua and then Albert as if they shared a common conspiracy. ‘Anyway, he's started up again in his wife's name, not his own. I've had some good deals from him. Better than you'll get from Turner any day.'

‘No!' Joshua made a stand. ‘I won't deal with him.'

‘I've put in an order,' she stated flatly.

‘You just said that you hadn't had time to go!' What was going on? Joshua felt ill again when he'd thought he was better. He hadn't been eating much; he couldn't face the greasy mince and heavy puddings that Lena was serving up and so had refused the meals, saying he wasn't hungry. He knew his strength was being sapped, not just by lack of food, but also by her aggressive behaviour. She's going to ruin me, he thought, just as Tommy and Poppy had said she would.

‘Not for extras, I haven't,' she explained in a wheedling manner. ‘I've given him a regular order for cheese and butter and flour and all 'things we need every day. He's given us a discount,' she added. ‘A good one!'

For rancid butter and mouldy cheese, I'll be bound, Joshua thought, but he merely said. ‘I'll go round and see him. No! I'll go,' he persisted, as Lena started to protest that she would attend to it. ‘If we stop with him I have to find out his terms.' I'll cancel the order, he thought, and call and ask Turner what it was he was out of, that made Lena tell him not to come any more. It's time I took charge again.

The doorbell jangled and Poppy came in. Her step was lively and her eyes sparkled and Joshua could tell that something had happened. She looks lovely, he thought proudly, his gloom dissipating. She's the light of my life.

‘I need to talk to you, Pa,' she said, and he knew she meant alone, away from Lena or Albert.

‘Well, I'm going out, so you can come with me,' he said. ‘I'll just get my coat and hat.'

As they walked towards the old town he told her what had happened that morning. ‘Lena's trying to take over,' he said. ‘I can't think how I've allowed it to happen! And I don't know why, but I've got the feeling I can't trust her any more.'

‘I never did,' Poppy said grimly. ‘A woman's sixth sense, I suppose. Pa!' she said impulsively. ‘I've made a decision! But first let me tell you what happened at the theatre this morning.'

‘Something good?' Her father smiled. ‘I could tell by 'look on your face.'

‘It's a mirror, isn't it.' She laughed. ‘I could never keep my feelings inside me.' She hunched up her shoulders. ‘Mr Vine has created a special part for me in Aladdin! I'm to be the Lambent Flame! You know,' she explained as her father frowned in puzzlement. ‘It's a flame or light which doesn't burn. And it's meant to keep Fairy Fancy, the Good Spirit of the pantomime, alive, do you see?'

‘Mm, yes, I think so. I was never very good at fairy stories and suchlike. I allus left that to your ma. But I'm right glad for you, Poppy.' He gave her arm a squeeze. ‘You looked so happy that I knew we'd made 'right choice for you.'

‘Well, that's what I want to talk to you about. My decision! After the pantomime I'm going to give up the stage.' She took a breath. ‘I can see how things are at home and in the shop and I'm not going to let you down. We'll ask – no,
tell
Lena and Albert we don't need them any more because I'm coming back, and then we'll get someone else in as a baker. Perhaps it could be a man?' she said. ‘But whoever we find couldn't do worse than Lena.'

‘We'll see,' her father said quietly. ‘I've been thinking of some changes, but they didn't involve you giving up your singing!' He sighed. ‘I might close down,' he said. ‘Have a bit of a rest. It's been hard, Poppy, these last three years without your ma.'

‘Close down!' She was horrified. ‘But what would you do? Savile Street wouldn't be the same without Mazzini's!'

‘Nothing stays 'same for ever,' he said. ‘Maybe it's time for a change. For me, anyway. Look,' he said, pointing down the street. ‘There's Mrs Thomas. She was allus a regular customer of mine. Now she doesn't come any more.'

‘She was given her marching orders by Lena when she complained about the bread,' Poppy said quietly, stunned by her father's announcement. She narrowed her eyes. ‘That's Mattie with her, isn't it? They're having a good old gossip.' She waved to them and Mattie looked up. She said something to Mrs Thomas, and then, giving a quick wave back to Poppy and her father, she turned on her heel and sped off down Whitefriargate.

As Joshua and Poppy caught up with Mrs Thomas, she nodded at them and said hurriedly, ‘Can't stop. I've done enough gabbing for today.'

‘Mrs Thomas!' Joshua began, wanting to apologize, but she shook open her umbrella, for it was starting to spit with rain, and dashed away.

They both stared after her, then Joshua said, ‘She didn't want to talk to me, and who can blame her?'

‘Odd, though,' Poppy murmured, watching Mrs Thomas's determined figure until it was lost to view. ‘I'd have thought she would have wanted to give you a piece of her mind. She did with me! I'll go home, if you don't mind, Pa,' she went on. ‘I've this new part to learn, and some new songs. We open on Saturday night so I haven't got long.'

‘Only two days! Can you do it in time?'

‘It's only a small speaking part, but there are some lovely songs. New ones that I haven't heard before.'

‘Off you go, then,' her father said. ‘And we'll talk again after the pantomime.' He squeezed her arm. ‘Don't do anything hasty, will you, Poppy? Don't go cancelling your contract with Damone. Not without talking to me first.'

She promised that she wouldn't and made her way back towards Savile Street. Now that she was alone she could drop the pretence that all was well. Miss Gosse had arrived in Hull to play the part of the Good Spirit, unaware that her agent had almost ruined the engagement for her, and was very pleasant towards Poppy, sympathizing with her when she heard what had happened, and thoroughly approving of the new role of the Lambent Flame which Fred Vine had created for Poppy to play. Poppy herself was thrilled with the part, but underlying her excitement was the knowledge that this might be her last engagement. She knew she couldn't leave her father to the mercies of Lena or anyone else like her. The other niggling anxiety which was upsetting her was that she wouldn't be near Charlie, who would surely never come back to Hull again. I'll lose him, she thought, if I'm not near him. Lose him before he's even mine.

Nan and Mattie were not usually frightened of the dark or the neighbourhood round the river Hull where they lived and worked. They were used to finding their way in the ill-lit alleyways and streets and knew which unsavoury quarters to avoid and which were safe. But when the tall, dark figure loomed up in front of them, the night they returned from the theatre, they had been scared witless until he spoke.

Mattie had found her voice first. ‘For heaven's sake, Tommy! What you doing here?'

‘I went home—' His voice cracked. He sounded fatigued.

‘Come in. Come in!' Nan said. ‘Open 'door, Mattie, quick. ‘Lad must be frozen through.'

Mattie fumbled with the key and once inside fiddled with the lamp. When she had a light she turned to look at Tommy. ‘Crikey,' she said softly. ‘What happened to you?'

‘Let's get 'fire lit,' Nan was all practicality. ‘He's wet through. Good job I laid it ready.' She struck a match to the paper in the hearth and it caught, sending a blue-green flame up the chimney and igniting the twigs. She stood up to gaze at Tommy. He was thin and anxious-looking beneath his weathered skin, and very, very wet. ‘Did you say you'd been home?'

‘I didn't go in,' he croaked. ‘There was no-one there – at least, Pa and Poppy weren't there. Lena and Albert were both in 'shop, but the blind was down on the door and it looked as if it was shut, and I couldn't think why. Where would they be, do you think? I tried 'side door but it was locked and I didn't want to knock in case Lena or Albert came to answer it.' He shivered and came nearer to the fire. ‘I had all sorts of horrible thoughts running through my head.'

‘Poppy was out with us at 'theatre,' Mattie said, ‘and your pa might have gone to have a lie-down. He's not been well.'

‘Oh? What's 'matter with him?' Tommy said, concerned.

‘Stomach upset,' Nan said. ‘But he's getting better. A lot better, in fact, since Poppy came home.' She bent to put a small pan of water over the fire to boil. ‘This won't take long,' she murmured. ‘Then you can have a hot drink.'

Tommy crouched down beside her. ‘Poppy? Why, where's she been?'

Nan and Mattie glanced at each other. ‘There's been a few things happening since you went away, Tommy. We'll tell you all about everything,' Nan said. ‘But first get your wet things off.'

Mattie gazed at him. ‘There's a towel hanging on 'door there, so rub yourself down. We've no change of clothes for you. Unless you want my other skirt!' She grinned, seeing his bewilderment. ‘Here, take this and wrap it round you.' She took a thin blanket from the back of a chair and handed it to him. ‘Then we'll hear what you've been up to and why you turned up here.'

He sat by the fire with the blanket round him, his bare legs sticking out from beneath it and his hands clutching a cup of cocoa. ‘I almost daren't go home,' he said. ‘I feel such a failure and I've let Pa down. I've been hanging around not daring to go back. And then, when I did, Pa wasn't there. I don't know why, but I had a horrible feeling that Lena had taken over and that Pa and Poppy had gone.'

‘Mm,' Mattie said. ‘It was looking that way. You're home just in time. But then . . .' She hesitated. ‘When are you sailing again?'

‘I'm not!' he said harshly. ‘I've hated every minute of it. I stuck it out for the first few weeks; didn't want to come crawling back so everybody could say told you so. I wrote to Pa,' he said in mitigation. ‘But I didn't tell him about how sick I'd been. How ill I felt, or homesick,' he added. ‘Then I got stuck out in 'Baltic when the ship needed repairs. I tried to get another to bring me home, but there wasn't one that would take me on.'