Hettie of Hope Street (20 page)

Polly had not come down for breakfast, which, to judge from the tight-mouthed expressions of her female relatives, John suspected had been a wise move on her part. Nothing had been said about the events of the previous evening, but a strong odour of disapproval emanated
from the other ladies, whilst Alfred was still plainly embarrassed and put out of sorts by his sister's behaviour.

There had been plenty of people the previous evening willing to suggest that Polly had had too much to drink, and it had been with a sinking heart that John had been obliged to listen to Alfred confiding to him how concerned he was about his sister, knowing that he could not offer him any comfort.

He had not seen Polly at all during the day, but she had come down for dinner, albeit looking wan and vulnerable. During the meal she had been uncharacteristically quiet, contributing nothing to the dinner table conversation and barely touching her food. John had witnessed, though, how her hands had been shaking so much that she had needed both of them in order to hold the glass of water that was all that she had had to drink.

‘I suppose you're all waiting for me to apologise for last night,' she had remarked at the end of the meal. ‘Well, I shall not do so. I shall never apologise for believing that the best of all of us are gone, taken from us for ever. But I do apologise to you, dearest Alfie, if I embarrassed you, for you are the best of all brothers, and you do not deserve to have such a wretched burden of a sister.' She had smiled tearfully at him and then got up and left the room.

‘Well!' her great-aunt had fumed. ‘I had heard that modern young people were lacking in
manners, but I had not expected to see evidence of it with my very own eyes and from a member of my own family. Alfred, your father would never have countenanced such behaviour. If you want my opinion, it is your mother who is to blame for your sister's shocking behaviour.'

‘I say, Aunt,' Alfred had objected. ‘Mother died when Polly was still in the nursery.'

‘Exactly! Had she lived she would have seen to it that Polly was brought up under a far stricter regime. It is a mother's duty to prepare her daughters for their role in society, not a father's, and I shall not have a word said against my nephew, your dear father, on that head.'

The ladies had all retired to their beds over an hour ago and now, as he made his way upstairs to his, John acknowledged that he was looking forward to returning to his normal life.

He opened his bedroom door and stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him, and then froze in disbelief. There, in the middle of his bed, lying on her side with her head propped up by her arm – her
naked
arm, John couldn't help but notice – was Polly.

‘John, at last! I've been waiting for you for ever,' she reproached him. ‘And I've drunk all the gin,' she added sorrowfully.

‘Polly, Lady Polly,' John corrected himself firmly. ‘This is not…'

‘John, please don't send me away. Please let me stay. I can't bear to be alone tonight.' Tears filled
her eyes. ‘It was New Year's night when Ollie proposed to me…'

John felt his heart contract in pain for her. ‘I do understand, but you must know that you can't stay here,' he said to her gently. But as he approached the bed he could smell the gin. The bottle beside the bed was empty and he wondered how much she had actually drunk.

‘All I want is to
be
with someone…To be held and kept safe from my own dark places. You have no idea how much they torment me, John.' She shivered and the bedclothes slid away from her body. John was relieved to see that she was actually wearing a pair of silk pyjamas.

‘Is that really too much to ask?' she asked tearfully. ‘You have no idea how much I hurt here inside, John. Please, please let me stay. Just for tonight, that's all.'

It was unthinkable that he should agree, but how could he make her leave?

As though she sensed his dilemma, Polly looked up at him pleadingly. ‘Please don't deny me this, John. Please don't. I promise you that all I want from you is the comfort of a brother and a friend…You do believe me, don't you?' she demanded emotionally. ‘Tell me that you do?'

‘Yes. Of course I do.' John tried to calm her.

She was sitting up in his bed now, her knees drawn up under her chin and her arms wrapped around them. She looked as young and innocent as a child, but if she were to be discovered in his
room no one would believe either of them to be innocent.

‘I want so much to sleep' she told him pathetically. ‘I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up again.' She laughed mirthlessly. ‘But God will not be so kind to me. He has not punished me enough yet.'

Suddenly she started to cry, her whole body shaking with the force of her emotion. Automatically John went towards her.

‘Lie down beside me, John,' she begged him. ‘Please, just lie next to me and hold me. Please make the pain go away for me.' Her voice was thick with gin and sleep,

‘I will sit here beside you,' he told her firmly.

‘But you will hold my hand?'

‘Very well then,' he agreed. ‘But only if you lie down quietly.'

Obediently, she did as he had told her, her fingers clinging tightly to his hand. ‘Have you ever been in love?' he heard her asking him, as she had once before.

Immediately he tensed.

‘You have, haven't you?' she guessed. ‘What happened to her?'

‘She wanted to go on the stage and sing.'

‘And you are angry with her because of that? No, don't deny it. I can hear it in your voice. You were angry with her and so you made her choose between you and her singing. That is how men are.'

She was almost asleep. John held his breath and then released it when her fingers slackened their hold on his hand and her breathing slowed.

He waited another few minutes until he was sure she was fully asleep and then he moved slowly and carefully to the other side of the room, and the chair where he would have to spend what was left of the night.

‘Here they are, I bought as many as I could.'

The girls clustered around Hettie's bed as Aggie put down the newspapers she was carrying, then pounced on them and turned quickly to the theatre pages.

‘Oh, listen to this one,' Jenny instructed.

‘“Last night at the Lytton Theatre, I witnessed the spectacle of the entire audience rising to its feet to applaud the talent of a new young composer, and deservedly so. I went to the Lytton firmly believing that I had had my fill of Japanese fairy tales and costume drama, but I left it knowing that I had been wrong. The experience of such talented actors as Jerome Hardy and Cecily Flowers assured the audience of an excellent evening's entertainment, and special mention must be made of Miss Hettie Walker who played the part of the young ingénue Princess Mimi most delightfully.” Ooh Hettie,' Jenny squealed excitedly. ‘Miss Hettie Walker, that's you! Give us
another paper, will you, Babs…'

‘Not yet. I'm reading this one. You 'ave a look at
The Times
,' Babs answered her firmly.

‘It says here that American money and European talent have combined to provide a rare feast of enjoyment to welcome the new year. You aren't mentioned by name, Hettie, but it does say that Princess Mimi has an excellent and very pretty voice, which he would be happy to hear again in a more challenging role. Oh, 'Ettie…' Babs gasped, round-eyed. ‘That's as good as saying you should 'ave had the lead!'

‘Here's one as says he predicts that we're going to run right up until Easter,' Aggie told them. ‘Gawd, I hope we do. 'Ere, Mary.' She looked up as the door opened and Mary came in. ‘What time was it when you came in last night?'

‘Never you mind,' Mary answered, tossing her head.

‘So where'd he tek you, then, this lord?' Jess demanded to know.

‘The Savoy.
And
he's asked to see me again tonight,' Mary answered her importantly.

‘Ooh he is keen then, Mary.'

‘Aye, keen to get into her drawers,' Sukey put in pithily.

‘I'll thank you not to make that kind of crude talk, Sukey Simmonds.'

‘Well, what else would he be after.' Sukey insisted sulkily.

‘'Appen he's fallen for me,' Mary told her. ‘After
all, plenty of Gaiety girls ended up with a wedding ring on their finger and a title. On account of 'ow they'd married lords.'

‘Aye, and plenty more of them didn't,' Aggie pointed out dampeningly.

‘Wot, you ain't surely thinking that's wot's going to happen to you, are you, Mary?' Jess asked.

‘Why shouldn't it? Oh, Aggie, he's so handsome,' she breathed ecstatically, her eyes shining. ‘And to think I nearly sent back 'is card with a message to tek himself orf.' She pressed her hand to her heart. ‘'E made me feel like a real princess.'

‘Well, you ain't and if you'll tek my advice you'll remember that,' Aggie told her smartly, causing Mary to pull a face whilst Aggie's back was turned.

‘Give us a cigarette, will yer, Aggie?' Sukey begged whilst Hettie smothered a tired yawn. She had been too excited to sleep properly.

There was a bang on the bedroom door and the maid called out sharply, ‘There's some flowers just been delivered for Hettie Walker.'

‘Seems like you aren't the only one wiv an admirer, Mary.' Babs chuckled as Hettie got off the bed and hurried to the door. ‘Who are they from, 'Ettie?' Babs asked when Hettie came back clutching a huge bouquet of blooms.

‘I don't know. I haven't read the card yet. Oh. They are from Jay. Mr Dalhousie,' Hettie amended, her face turning pink. ‘Oh, and there's something else…' Her colour deepened still more
when she found the small gift-wrapped box tucked in with the flowers.

‘Go on, 'Ettie, open it,' Mary urged her.

Her fingers trembling slightly, Hettie did so. Inside the box was a small diamond-studded brooch in the shape of a letter ‘H'.

‘That's very pretty,' Aggie approved. ‘And quite right that he should treat yer too, if yer asks me!'

‘And bloody expensive by the looks of it,' Mary added. ‘Gawd knows what he must have given the leading lady if he's given you that.'

‘It will be 'Ettie as the public comes to hear, and not 'er, you mark my words,' Babs put in loyally.

‘Oh, I don't know about that. I was very lucky to get the part,' Hettie demurred. But the other girls were having none of her modesty and insisted determinedly that she had been the ‘star' of their first night.

‘Do you lot realise what time it is?' Jenny interrupted. ‘Or have I missed sommat and there's no rehearsal today?'

Hyde Park was busy with children enjoying their school holidays and Hettie, who had recently discovered that the park, with its fresh air and open spaces, somehow eased the ache she often felt for Preston and the life she had known there, paused by the Serpentine, comparing it to its disadvantage with Preston's Aveham Park's fish pond with its large fat goldfish.

She had written both to Connie and to Gideon and Ellie, sending them copies of her reviews and telling them all about her first night. She had already read the Christmas card she had received from Ellie and Gideon a hundred times and more, wondering if the fact that it was Gideon who had written inside it ‘from your loving parents' meant Ellie was still no better, or if she had simply not wanted to write to her.

A small tableau on the other side of the lake caught her eye. A young boy was playing with a model flying machine, reminding her painfully of John. How many times had he taken her to the park, mock-lecturing her on the principles of flight and then demonstrating them to her? Those had been such happy, carefree days.

But she was happy now too, wasn't she?
Princess Geisha
was playing to a packed theatre and people were having to be turned away. The operetta and her own part in it had received the most wonderful reviews. What more could she want?

‘And I heard that we're fully booked for all of this week and next as well, and that the management is talking about extending our run right up until
after
Easter. 'Ere, Mary,' Aggie changed subject crossly. ‘That's our new frock you're wearing, and it was my turn to have it tonight.'

The chorus girls regularly clubbed together to buy a much coveted item of clothing, especially
going-out dresses, and then took it in turns to wear their group purchase. But Aggie continued to scowl when Mary tossed her head and explained, ‘Well, you can wear it on Saturday, if you want, cos that's when I should 'ave had it.'

‘You're quiet, Babs, are you all right?' Hettie asked her friend worriedly when they left the dressing room ten minutes later.

‘I am feeling a bit low, like, 'Ettie. It's on account of me missing Stan, what wiv him staying in Liverpool with the panto and me being here in London. And now it looks like we're going to be 'ere even longer. We can't even walk out proper like together.'

They both came to an abrupt halt as Jay Dalhousie stepped in front them and said briskly, ‘If you've got a moment, Hettie, I'd like to have a word with you in my office.'

Babs gave Hettie's arm a small squeeze and whispered to her, ‘Don't look so worried, 'Ettie. 'E can't be going to give yer the sack, not wiv them reviews you've bit getting. I'll see yer later.'

Hettie waited until Babs had gone before hurrying through the labyrinth of back-stage corridors towards Jay's small office.

He opened the door for her as soon as she knocked on it, shutting it firmly to enclose them in the room's small dark space.

‘Did you get my flowers?' he demanded.

‘Hettie nodded. ‘Yes, thank you, and the brooch…'

‘Did you like that, Hettie? I chose it especially for you.'

‘It was very generous of you.'

‘
Me
, generous to
you?
Hettie, don't you realise how much you have done for me, and how grateful I am to you? And I haven't forgotten that we were to have dinner together. Unfortunately, my business affairs have kept me very busy over these last few days. It seems that everyone in London wants to shake my hand and compliment me on my theatrical savvy and the success of my
Princess Geisha
. And it is all because of you, my little song thrush. You have stolen away the critics' hearts with your sweetness, little Hettie, and this is just the beginning of what you and I can achieve together,' he told her excitedly.

Hettie listened to him, her heart pounding.

‘Come, this is no place to talk about my plans for you, Hettie.' As he spoke he took hold of her hand in his own, its warmth sending shocking thrills of pleasure up her arm.

But when he hurried her towards the door, she drew back hesitantly. ‘Where are we going? What…'

‘I am taking you to the Ritz for that dinner I promised you,' he told her, adding carelessly, ‘I have a suite there, and we can dine there in private without having to endure the world and its dog coming to our table to trouble us with its questions. Oh, Hettie, Hettie…You don't know how happy you have made me. All those doubters who
claimed that
Princess Geisha
would dig a big hole in my pocket are now having to eat their words. All my life I have followed my hunches and all my life I have been rewarded for doing so, but never as magnificently as on this occasion. And it is all thanks to you and that voice of yours.'

He had opened the door and was hurrying Hettie through it and down an unfamiliar corridor. ‘This will take us to my private exit from the theatre. I know you will not want your friends to see you leaving with me.' He squeezed her hand tenderly. ‘See, Hettie, how well I know you already and how I think of you? The first thing we must do now is arrange for you to have proper singing lessons. I have been looking into it already.' He opened a small door that led on to the street where a large shiny motor car was waiting.

‘The Ritz, please, Hudson,' Hettie heard him instruct the chauffeur, and then she was being handed into the vehicle.

‘Singing lessons?' she asked Jay uncertainly. ‘But…'

‘Yes. Your voice needs no training for the part of Princess Mimi, Hettie, but you are capable of so much more. I have already spoken with Archie and I have commissioned him to compose an operetta especially for you. And it will open not here in London but on Broadway. What do you think of that, my little song thrush?'

Singing lessons. Broadway. Hettie could scarcely take it all in. They had reached the Ritz, but they
were not to enter the famous hotel by the main door, Hettie noticed as the chauffeur opened the car door for her.

‘I told Hudson to drive us round to the side entrance.'

A side entrance it may well be, but there was still a uniformed doorman to open the door for them and someone to escort them along the elegantly decorated corridor with its gilt mirrors and wall lights to the waiting lift.

Carpets so thick that she felt as though she were sinking into them muffled the sound of Hettie's heels as they were escorted to a pair of double doors, and Hettie's eyes widened to see Jay yet again slip some money into the palm of the man waiting to be dismissed, as he had done to all the others.

Once she was inside the suite, though, all she could do was stare at her surroundings. ‘I have never seen anything like this before,' she whispered to Jay.

‘The hotel was designed to look like a French country house, in the style of Louis XVI,' Jay explained, smiling at her. ‘Let me show you the whole suite, starting with the main salon.'

From the small ante-room they were in, with its eau-de-Nil painted wooden panels into which were set heavily gilded mirrors, a pair of double doors opened into the room Jay had referred to as the ‘main salon'. Almost timidly Hettie stepped into it, whirling round as she tried to take in every
aspect of its wonderful décor. On the ceiling there was a painting showing all manner of smiling cherubs holding garlands of roses, its design echoed in the carpet beneath her feet. Swags of gilded plasterwork ornamented the delicately coloured panelled walls, and the chairs and sofa were covered in such a fine fabric that Hettie wondered that anyone would dare to sit on them.

Above the elegant marble fireplace there was a heavy gilt mirror, and a fire burned in the hearth filling the room with delicious warmth. Heavy velvet curtains covered the pair of high windows, in front of which stood a mahogany desk.

‘Oh, it is all so very pretty,' Hettie exclaimed in awe.

Jay laughed. ‘Ah, but you are far prettier, little Hettie.'

Blushing, Hettie dipped her head, hoping he would put the heat in her face down to the warmth of the fire.

‘And see, here is a dining room,' he told her, throwing open yet another pair of double doors which led into a smaller oval room decorated in the same style as the salon but containing a mahogany dining table. ‘And beyond this is a small corridor which leads to the bedroom and bathroom.'

‘Oh.' Instinctively Hettie drew back and turned around to face the salon.

She was definitely still a virgin, Jay decided, and his body tightened in eager male anticipation of its future pleasure.

Princess Geisha
's success had exceeded his own wildest gambler's dreams and Jay truly believed that by combining Archie and Hettie, his own discoveries, he could create a theatrical success like no other Broadway had ever known. The purity of Hettie's voice – like the purity of her virtue – could not be denied. But with the right teacher her voice, and Hettie herself, could and would bloom into true magnificence – her voice for the delight of audiences, and Hettie herself for the far more private delight of one man alone: her lover. And Jay fully intended that he would be her lover. But not yet.

‘So many rooms for just one man,' Hettie commented brightly as she tried to cover the confusion of her own feelings. ‘But then perhaps you are waiting for your wife to join you here in London.'