A Night of Gaiety (5 page)

But the other women were paying no attention, chatting amongst themselves as they continued to apply cosmetics to their faces or were buttoned into their gowns.

The woman who was dressing Violet now produced the most beautiful dress that Davita could possibly imagine.

It swirled out from her tiny waist in elaborate frills ornamented with roses and bows of silk ribbon.

The bodice, however, seemed to Davita almost embarrassingly low, and she thought that if she had to wear such a gown she would feel extremely shy.

Roses decorated the small sleeves and the
décolletage
, and there were roses, tulle, and feathers on the magnificent hat which the dresser was setting in place on Violet’s fair, elaborately arranged hair.

She sat down on a chair in front of the mirror to put it on, and Davita exclaimed:

“How lovely you look, Violet! I am not surprised that people flock to the Theatre to see you.”

“And a few others,” Violet said, “but wait ’til you see the Show!”

“I would love to do that,” Davita answered. “Do you think it would be possible for me to get a seat in the Gallery, or somewhere cheap?”

Violet looked at her as if she were joking. Then she said:

“I’m not having that! Not when you’ve come all the way from Scotland to see me!”

She thought for a moment. Then she said:

“I know. I’ll put you in the Box with Bertie. He ought to be here by now.”

“No, no. Please do not trouble,” Davita said quickly. “I do not want to be a nuisance to anybody. Perhaps I can wait here until you are ready to leave.”

Violet laughed as if she had made a joke.

“If you’re suggesting that when I leave here I’ll be
going straight home, then that’s where you’re wrong, Miss Innocent!”

S
he looked at the dresser who was arranging her hair. “We don’t go home after the Show, do we, Jessie?”

“
Might be better if yer did occasionally!” Jessie answered tartly. “All these late nights’ll make yer old before yer years, yer mark my words!”

V
iolet laughed spontaneously, just as she had when she had been in Scotland with Davita.

“
I’ve got a bit of time left to get my ‘beauty-sleep,’ as you call it,” she answered, “when nobody asks me out to supper.”

A
s she spoke, Davita realised that she had been very stupid.

S
he had somehow thought that when she stayed with Violet they would be together and she would go back with her to her lodgings.

N
ow she knew that, looking so lovely, Violet would have a “Stage-Door Johnny” waiting to take her to the places her father had mentioned—Romano’s or Rules—and there would certainly be no point in her waiting.

“
I am sorry, Violet,” she said quickly. “I did not mean to be a bother coming here. I will go back and we can talk tomorrow.”

“
You’ll do no such thing!” Violet said.

S
he turned her face first one way, then the other, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Then she said: “That’s all right, Jessie. Now nip down and find out if Lord Mundesley’s in his usual Box, and if he is, ask him to come through the stage-door and speak to me for a moment.”

“
The Guv’nor don’t like gentlemen coming through ’fore the interval!” Jessie said.

“
I know he doesn’t,” Violet replied, “but I’ve got to introduce His Lordship to my friend, haven’t I? Go on, Jessie, and hurry up!”

J
essie flounced off with rather a bad grace and Davita said anxiously:

“
Oh, please, Violet, I shall be all right. I can see the Show another night.”

“
What’s the point of waiting?” Violet asked. “Let’s have a look at you.”

S
he turned round from contemplating her own reflection to look at Davita.

“
Your gown’s not bad,” she said. “It’s a bit dowdy, and it’s not right for the evening, but you’ll pass.”

H
er eyes rose a little higher and she said:

“
I remember that hat. What have you done with the feathers?”

“
It was so kind of your mother to give it to me,” Davita said apologetically, “but it looked rather overpowering on me.”

“
She owed you something, didn’t she,” Violet said with a touch of humour in her voice, “nipping off like that. Your father must have been a bit upset.”

D
avita drew in her breath, remembering how dreadfully upset her father had been; in fact, after he’d lost Katie he’d been incapable to cope with life at all.

“
Yes, he minded very much,” she said in a low voice.

“
I’m sorry,” Violet said casually, “but after all, she’d never have stuck all that empty space for long. I had a letter from her—it must be three months ago—and she was doing all right.”

“
On Broadway?” Davita asked curiously.

“
No, she was on tour,” Violet replied. “I gather she’d left Harry for someone else.”

F
or a moment Davita was too shocked to reply.

I
t seemed bad enough that Katie should have left her father to go to America with another man, but that she should have already left him seemed both incredible and positively wicked.

T
hen Davita told herself that she had no right to judge anybody, and she was honest enough to know that Violet was right. Katie could never have stayed in Scotland for long, especially when there had been no money to buy her all the pretty things that she expected.

“
Do you really mean you’ve got no money?” Violet asked suddenly.

“
Very little,” Davita replied. “My father’s Solicitors suggested they might get me a job looking after children in Edinburgh, but I thought I could find something I would like better in London.”

“
With your looks, you don’t want to be cluttering yourself up with other people’s children!” Violet said scathingly.

T
hen she smiled.

“You leave it to me, Davita. I’ll look after you and see you have a bit of fun for a change!”

She put out her hand in a slightly protective manner to pat Davita on the arm.

“
You gave me a good time when I came to Scotland,” she said, “and I’ll do the same for you.”

T
here was a sudden rat-tat on the door and a boy’s voice called:

“Ten minutes, lidies!”

Violet rose from the chair.

“Where’s that Jessie?” she asked.

As she spoke, the dresser came wending her way through the other women towards her.

“You’ve given him the message?” Violet asked.

“Yus, but yer’ll have to hurry if yer’re going to see ’im.”

“I know! I know!” Violet replied. “Come on, Davita!”

She walked across the room like a ship in full sail and Davita followed her.

They went down the iron staircase, which now seemed even more crowded with people than it had been before.

They greeted Violet admiringly or jokingly.

Then when they reached the Ground Floor, Davita heard Violet speak to somebody and saw that standing just in front of the door that obviously led into the Auditorium was a man in evening-dress.

He looked, she thought at first, very magnificent with his stiff white shirt and tail-coat, a tall, shiny top-hat on the side of his head.

T
hen at a second glance she realised that he was older than she had expected. He had heavy moustaches and side-whiskers, and his figure had thickened as if he was approaching middle-age.

H
owever, Davita could see that he was a gentleman, and the voice in which he spoke was cultured, which was made all the more obvious because Violet’s voice was, Davita had noticed before, at times slightly common.

“
Hullo, Bertie!”

“
You sent for me, my fair enchantress,” Lord Mundesley replied, “and of course to hear is to obey!”

“
I haven’t got much time,” Violet said quickly, “but this is the daughter of my Stepfather, if you can work that out, and she’s just arrived from Scotland and wants to see the Show. She’s never been in London before, so look after her for me—and no tricks!”

“
I do not know what you mean!” Bertie said in affronted dignity which was obviously assumed.

T
hen he swept his silk hat from his head and put out his hand.

“
How do you do? Perhaps the alluring Violet will introduce us a little more elegantly.”

“
I expect you’ll introduce yourself, Bertie!” Violet said. “This is Davita Kilcraig, whose father was the Baronet my mother married.”

“
And left!” Lord Mundesley added.

“
All right, so she left him,” Violet retorted, “but that’s none o’ your business and it wasn’t Davita’s fault neither!”

“
Of course not,” Lord Mundesley agreed.

He was still holding Davita’s hand, which made her feel a little embarrassed.

He was about to say something when a boy’s strident voice called: “Three minutes, lidies!” and Violet gave a little cry.

“
See you after the Show!” she said, and picking up her skirts with both hands ran back up the staircase.

“
We had better go to the front of the house,” Lord Mundesley said to Davita.

H
e opened a door for her, and, because he obviously expected it, Davita preceded him down some steps and found herself in the Auditorium of the Theatre.

T
he noise of the audience seemed to hit her almost like a wave, then there was a kaleidoscope of colour, and, as women passed her being shown to their seats in the Stalls, the fragrance of exotic perfumes.

“
This way,” Lord Mundesley directed.

D
avita climbed a small staircase which was very different from the iron one behind the scenes. The walls were painted in an attractive colour, it was lit with electric light, and there was a thick carpet under her feet.

A
moment later she found herself in a Box draped with red velvet curtains and with seats covered in red plush.

L
ord Mundesley seated her on his right so that she had the best view of the stage, and he sat in the centre of the Box, picking up a pair of Opera-glasses which rested on the ledge.

D
avita stared about her with an excitement that made it impossible to speak.

S
he had several times been to a Theatre in Edinburgh, but it had been nothing like as large and certainly not as colourful as the scene before her now.

E
verything seemed to sparkle, and the crimson and gold of the Boxes, the splendour of the dropped curtain, and the lights were only part of the background for the audience.

N
ever had she imagined it possible to see so many attractive, beautiful women and distinguished-looking men congregated together in one place.

T
hen, as she was staring almost open-mouthed at the people being packed into the Stalls, at the Royal Circle filled without an empty seat to be had, and the Gallery sloping up to the ceiling and apparently just as full, the lights were dimmed.

T
he Orchestra that had been playing softly swelled in a crescendo until the sound seemed to vibrate through the whole Theatre and become part, Davita thought, of her very breathing.

T
hen she forgot everything except the excitement of seeing for the first time in her life a Show at the Gaiety.

B
ecause she had of course been interested in what was being produced at the Theatre in which first her Stepmother had played, and then Violet, she knew that the Show she was about to see was called
Cinder-Ellen Up-Too-Late.

T
he Lead had originally been played by Nellie Farren, one of the great stars of the Gaiety, but now she had left because she had rheumatic trouble which made it impossible for her to carry on.

The few newspapers that Davita had read in Scotland which reported what was happening in London had all declared what a tragedy it was for the Gaiety that one of the greatest Leading Ladies they had ever known should have been forced to retire.

H
ector, who had often seen Nellie when he was in London with her father, had told her with what for him had been fulsome praise of her achievements and her courage.

“
Her wouldn’a gi’ in wi’out a struggle,” he had said to Davita, “an’ it’ll be awful hard for ’em to find someone to replace her.”

“
I would like to have seen her,” Davita had said, thinking it was something she would never be able to do any more than she would ever see the Gaiety itself.

Y
et here she was, watching a new edition of the Show, and she was aware that Lottie Collins, who had been in the Gaiety chorus and was the well-known skipping-rope dancer, had now taken over the Lead.

I
t was difficult, however, to think of anything but the beauty of the stage-sets and the dancing of the
corps de ballet.

And of course there was the elegance of Violet and the seven other girls like her as they came onto the stage, looking so exquisitely beautiful that she thought that every man in the Theatre must fall in love with them.

J
ust once when Violet was on the stage, Davita glanced at Lord Mundesley sitting next to her and found, to her surprise, that he was looking not at Violet but at her.

S
he wanted to tell him how much she was enjoying herself, but she thought she should not speak, and instead gave him a shy little smile.

T
hen her eyes went back to the stage.

T
here was an amazing performance from Fred Leslie, and Davita was to learn later that he was a unique draw of the Show.
Then after several dancing-sequences and some very comic performances, Lottie Collins came onto the stage dressed in a red gown and a big Gainsborough hat, with her blonde hair streaming over her shoulders.

S
he sang softly, almost timidly, it seemed to Davita, making a great play with a lace handkerchief.

S
he sang the verse of a song in the manner, although Davita did not know it, of a Leading Lady in a Light Opera, quietly, simply, and perhaps rather nervously: