Battling with first-night nerves, Bella stood in the wings of the Vaudeville Theatre in the Haymarket. Fighting down the nauseous feeling in her stomach, and the almost overwhelming desire to run back to her dressing room and hide, she swallowed hard and braced her shoulders. The stage stretched before her like an endless floodlit plain. She couldn’t see the audience in the dark void beyond the footlights, but she sensed them as a living, breathing entity that, in just a few seconds, would judge whether or not she still had the power to handle a West End crowd. She breathed in as deeply as possible, allowing for the vicious grip of her whalebone corsets. Maria had cinched her waist into a hand’s span, lacing the stays to a suffocating tightness. Making a supreme effort to put everything else out of her mind, Bella wiped her damp palms on her skirt and waited for the orchestra to play her intro.
She was on – no time now for stage fright. She swept onto the apron of the stage, painting a smile on her lips, and holding her arms out in a gesture of supplication to her audience. There was a faint murmur of appreciation and Bella relaxed. Thank God, they were friendly. This was her big break and she was not going to fluff it! She broke into her first song, moving sinuously across the stage and addressing herself to every part of the theatre, from the front stalls to the gallery.
As usual, she began her act with an upbeat, saucy, cockney song that never failed to warm up even the toughest audience. Bella had learned long ago to play on the purity of her soprano voice and her fragile blonde beauty. She had discovered that she could sing the most risqué words, tempering their vulgarity with a studied air of innocence, which usually brought the house down. Her early days, singing in her father’s East End pub, had taught her how to use her sexuality to dazzle and enthral the male members of the audience. For them she would adopt the guileless manner of a little girl singing a naughty grown-up song. Having captured the hearts of the men, she would then launch into a heart-rending, sentimental ballad that would win over even the toughest of the East End fishwives, and have them weeping into their gin or port and lemon.
She was well into her second number when, as she swept her gaze around the boxes that flanked the stage, she spotted Rackham. He was watching her with an appreciative smile on his lips. Seated next to him was Iris; this time the catch in Bella’s voice, and the way her hands flew to clutch her heaving bosom, was entirely spontaneous. She had not believed him when he said that he intended to see Iris again, and she had certainly not thought that Iris would be so stupid as to take him back. They could both go to hell for all she cared … But she did care, that was the biggest shock of all. Somehow Bella managed to falter her way through a fog of barely controlled emotion, ending the ballad with a genuine sob that rippled, in a sympathetic echo, throughout the auditorium.
She left the stage to the sound of tumultuous applause and calls of ‘Encore!’ Blinded by angry tears, she collided with top-of-the-bill comedian, Sam Lennard.
‘Hey, look where you’re going, ducks,’ he growled, breathing whisky fumes into her face. Then, as if by some magic metamorphosis, his furious expression changed into a smile, and he cantered onto the stage.
‘What’s wrong?’ demanded Maria, as Bella burst into the dressing room and threw herself down on the stool in front of her make-up table.
‘What’s wrong? Giles Rackham, that’s what’s wrong. He’s out there watching the show.’
Maria whipped off Bella’s ostrich feather headdress and began to undo the tiny pearl buttons at the back of her gown. ‘Pardon me for being stupid, but didn’t Rackham get you this job in the first place? Stand up, I can’t reach the bottom buttons.’
Dragging herself to her feet, Bella leaned her hands on the dressing table, making a huge effort to control her ragged breathing. She must calm down or the tight lacing of her corsets would cause her to swoon. ‘He’s a lying, cheating, swindling cad.’
‘That’s not news,’ Maria said, slipping the gown to the floor. ‘Lift your feet up.’
‘He’s with Iris. He’s actually courting that bitch Iris! He’s brought her here so that she can crow over my situation and run straight back to Desmond telling tales.’
Maria shook the creases out of the gown and slipped it over a hanger. ‘What if she does? You’ve got second billing and you’re back up West. You’re not starving in the gutter, which was what your old man wanted.’
‘No, but it won’t make it easier for me to get Leonie back if Desmond tells the Court that I’m singing lewd songs in a music hall. He could convince any judge that I’m an unfit mother and I’ll never see my baby again.’ Bella beat her fists on the table, sending up a flurry of face powder. ‘How could Rackham make up to that hateful bitch, when he knows how I’ve suffered at the hands of the Mableton family? How could he?’
Maria stared hard at Bella’s reflection in the mirror. ‘Why would you care what Rackham does? Serve him right if he marries Iris, she’ll make his life hell. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?’
Bella seized a stick of greasepaint and scrubbed it onto her pale lips. ‘He can rot in hellfire for all I care.’
‘On stage, please.’ The call boy rapped on the door. ‘Grand finale, Miss Lane.’
‘Pull yourself together,’ Maria said, slipping Bella’s finale costume over her head. ‘And get out on that stage.’
At any other time, Bella would have been thrilled by the standing ovation she received, and delighted by the fact that she was even more popular than Sam Lennard.
‘Well done, ducky,’ he hissed in her ear, holding her hand and bowing as the curtain fell for the third time. ‘I’ll have to watch my back or you’ll be taking over the number one spot.’
‘No chance of that,’ Bella said, as the curtain went up again.
The call boy ran on and presented Bella with a huge bouquet of red roses. She didn’t have to read the gilt-edged card to know that they were from Rackham, but a quick glance in his direction confirmed her suspicions. He rose to his feet, clapping enthusiastically, and he blew her a kiss. Iris was not applauding. She tugged at Rackham’s sleeve, her expression laced with venom.
A cold fist of anger balled in Bella’s stomach and she ripped out a long-stemmed rose, tossing it into the front stalls, following it with another and another until the whole bouquet had been thrown to a wildly appreciative audience.
‘You completely upstaged me, you bitch,’ Sam said, through clenched teeth, as the final curtain fell, even though the audience was still calling for another encore.
Humphrey Chester was waiting in the wings, his arms outstretched. ‘Well done, my little angel. I knew you could do it,’ he said, kissing Bella on both cheeks.
‘Seems to me you only need a fine pair of titties to get on in this game.’ Sam lurched against Bella, pushing her into Humphrey’s arms.
‘You’ve been drinking, Lennard,’ Humphrey said, sniffing suspiciously. ‘I warned you what would happen if you didn’t keep off the booze.’
‘So I had a drop or two to steady me nerves, guvner. You can’t blame a fella for that.’ Sam’s aggressive manner vanished, replaced by an ingratiating grin and he winked at Bella. ‘Just joking, girlie!’
‘Another joke like that and you’ll be busking outside the theatre,’ Humphrey said, slipping his arm around Bella’s shoulders.
‘It’s all right, Humphrey,’ Bella said, twisting free of his grasp. ‘I can take a joke and if I upstaged you, Sam, it wasn’t intentional.’
Sam glared at her from beneath his bushy eyebrows.
‘A handsome apology from a real lady,’ Humphrey said, his scowl turning into a grin. ‘By George, that’s it. We’ll bill you as Lady Bella, the
crème de la crème
of songbirds. The lady with the face and voice of an angel.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Bella said, backing away. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I must go and change.’
‘You don’t fool me so easy,’ Sam whispered in her ear. ‘You’re no bloody lady.’ He pushed past her and lumbered off.
Bella hurried towards her dressing room but she could hear Humphrey’s footsteps following her.
‘Bella, stop. You must at least allow me to escort you home in my motor car.’
Pausing outside her dressing room door, Bella turning her head, forcing a smile. ‘Thank you, but I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you. We’ll take a hackney carriage.’
‘This isn’t good enough, my dear. We really must find you more suitable accommodation.’ Humphrey smiled into her eyes, caressing her cheek with his fingertips. ‘I can’t have my new star living so far away from the theatre and in such a dismal place.’
‘You’re very kind, Humphrey, but I don’t mind the journey and I’m quite happy where I am.’ Bella pushed the door open and hit something hard.
‘Ouch!’ Maria moved away quickly, nursing her elbow.
‘Have you been listening at the keyhole?’ Bella demanded, closing the door behind her.
‘It’s the only way to find out what’s going on. What
is
going on with you and old Humpty Dumpty?’
‘Shhh,’ Bella said, her nerves twanging like piano wire. ‘He might hear you. And there’s nothing going on, at least not on my part.’
‘He’s got his eye on you, Bella. Play your cards right and you’ll be top of the bill by the end of the week.’
‘I’m not selling myself to any man again. I made a mistake marrying Desmond and I’m not in the market to be any man’s mistress. Not without love.’
‘If you’re still hankering after that Edward, you’d better think again. He’s never going to go against Sir Desmond and marry you.’
‘I love Edward. I love him and he loves me.’
‘Well, he’s not here and may never come back from fighting the Boers so you’d best forget him, my girl. We’ve got more pressing things to think about at the moment. Humpty Dumpty was right about one thing: we ought to leave Tanner’s Passage and get rooms nearer the theatre.’
‘I can’t just walk out on Betty. It wouldn’t be fair to desert her now after she took us in.’
‘She’ll understand.’
‘I can’t do it, not yet, anyway. She’s been upset enough and there’s Kitty to consider too, and Maggie and the children.’
‘Don’t forget your own child. You won’t get Leonie back unless you can provide a proper home for her. And I thought you wanted to get back at Rackham. What better way than to set up your own establishment in a well-to-do area, and prove you don’t need him, nor any man to help you get on.’
Bella put her hands over her ears. ‘Stop, stop. You’re making my head spin.’
‘Someone’s got to talk sense, my girl,’ Maria said, grabbing Bella by the shoulders and shaking her. ‘You tell Humpty Dumpty that he can help you find some nice digs. Put your own family first.’
‘You mean yourself, Mother, don’t you?’ Bella cried, pushing Maria away. ‘You didn’t put me first when you ran away with your fancy man and left me with my pig of a father. You weren’t there to stop him …’ Bella stuffed her fist in her mouth, shaking her head, unable to put the terrible deed into words.
Maria’s stern face cracked into a maze of fine lines and her mouth drooped at the corners. ‘I had to get away before he killed me in one of his drunken rages, and then Ernie came along, promising me the world, but only if I left you behind. I didn’t want to leave you but I thought I’d never get another chance like that. I knew your dad was a beast, but I never thought he’d lay a finger on you, Bella, not in that way, I swear it.’
Bella sank down on her dressing stool and buried her face in her hands. It was all too much! Everything that had happened that day had built up into a fogbank of disaster. Something had been terribly wrong at home in Tanner’s Passage. Betty had obviously been crying and Kitty had seemed upset, but they refused to tell her what was wrong. As if all that hadn’t been bad enough, Rackham had brought Iris to watch her performance. That was an unspeakable act, even for someone as low as Giles. Sam Lennard’s jealousy had been slightly less disturbing than Humphrey Chester’s thinly veiled motive behind his offers of help.
Having rubbed her closed eyes with her knuckles, Bella opened them again to see that her face was streaked with greasepaint and spit-black.
‘You look a sight,’ Maria said, throwing her a scrap of cloth. ‘Best clean yourself up.’
A sharp rapping on the door made them both jump.
‘May I come in, Bella?’
Maria thrust a pot of cold cream in Bella’s hands. ‘It’s Humpty Dumpty, you don’t want him to see you looking like a clown.’
Bella wiped her face and Maria opened the door slowly, blocking the entrance so that Humphrey could not enter without lifting her bodily aside. ‘Miss Lane is tired.’
Peeping over Maria’s head, Humphrey spoke directly to Bella. ‘My dear, I apologise if I upset you in any way. I’ve instructed my chauffeur to take you and your maid home and then return for me. I’ve got some paperwork that needs attending to anyway.’
Wiping the last of her stage make-up off her face, Bella turned to him and smiled. ‘That’s very kind of you, Humphrey.’
‘And you’ll reconsider my suggestion about moving closer to the theatre?’
‘Maybe.’
Bella slept badly that night and woke up early next morning to the sound of Kitty’s footsteps pattering along the landing. She did not get up straight away, but lay in bed, listening to the familiar morning sounds of the household: the children’s feet as they pounded down the staircase, with Maggie shushing them loudly and telling them that other people were trying to sleep. When she heard the front door close behind Maggie, who took the children to school every morning, still fearful that Sid might suddenly appear from nowhere, Bella slipped out of bed, pulled a cotton wrap over her nightie and went downstairs to the kitchen.
Kitty stood at the sink, washing cups and plates, and Betty was slumped in a chair at the table, holding a piece of paper in her hands that she quickly folded in half as Bella came into the room.
‘I know there’s something terribly wrong,’ Bella said, taking a seat opposite Betty. ‘What is it? You’ve been so good to us, Betty, I want to help in any way I can.’
Betty’s face crumpled and tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. ‘I just don’t know what to do. We’re ruined and I can’t see any way out.’ Dropping the letter, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing.