Songbird (35 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE

“W
here
are we?” yawned Danny, as we hissed through a station.

I
smiled and pulled the blanket closer round him.  “We’ll be coming into
Colchester in about thirty minutes,” I said.

He
gave another huge yawn.  “After this one, we go to Claythorpe.  I’m really
looking forward to that.”

“What!
You’re looking forward to seeing Abigail again?”

“Yes,
I am,” he said defiantly.  “Abigail isn’t too bad.  Anyway, I think Miss Rupp
will sort her out.”

I
couldn’t help laughing.  We had been on the road for six weeks and I was
relieved that Danny would spend the month of May in Hampshire.  The weather was
beautiful and passing through the countryside was an absolute delight.  We
followed the contours of the hills and sometimes we saw the frisky spring lambs
as they played in the warm sunshine alongside their mothers.  The woodlands
were filled with bluebells; the meadows with foxgloves and buttercups.

It
seemed I was now famous and ever eager to please my audience, my repertoire had
expanded to include more popular songs.  Andrew had wagged his finger at me and
said that he didn’t want me turning into a music hall artiste, but I knew that
the people loved the songs that they could sing along to.  And the money was
mounting up.  My bank balance had never looked so healthy.  After Colchester,
we would say farewell to my son and his governess, while the three of us
travelled on to Chelmsford and then Oxford.

I had
posted letters to Nan and Diamond and they had sent cuttings from the London
newspapers that were following my tour with close interest.  I gave them a
cursory glance and smiled that they thought it all a great success. 
‘The
best thing since Jenny Lind’
, said
The Times
.  Nan and Diamond had
received another letter from Ruth and Gwilym who were docked in Gibraltar at the
time of writing and still planned to be home in the summer.

Through
the first six weeks, Andrew had been wonderful; taking care of me in a way that
softened my heart.  Martha warned me once again that he would make me fall in
love with him and then I would be married before I knew it.  But he hadn’t
repeated his marriage proposal for a long time and I was thankful.

The
two performances in Colchester went very well and I had established a friendly
banter with the audience.  The flower throwing continued.  It seemed the
audience expected it now, although we had stopped buying flowers.  I was
inundated with bouquets and often my dressing room looked like Covent Garden
flower market.  The audience also expected me to sing
Amazing Grace
and
I realised that that hymn would follow me wherever I went.  The day after the
last performance in Colchester, we accompanied Danny and Miss Rupp to the
station to catch the train to Basingstoke.

Strangely
enough it wasn’t a sad farewell, I was glad to see Danny dropping out of the
gruelling timetable, even though he had coped with it very well.  But four
weeks in Hampshire would be a holiday for him and his excitement at seeing
Pegasus again was overwhelming.

As
the train pulled away from the platform, I watched his beautiful face peering
out at me from the window and we waved until the black smoke from the funnel
could no longer be seen. 

“They’ll
have a lovely time,” said Martha, putting her arm round my waist.

I
nodded.  “They’ll be back with us by the time we reach Bristol.”

But
it was a long month.

The city of Bath
was beautiful and although I was scheduled to sing for three nights, we managed
to find time to visit the famous Roman baths.  A guide showed us around,
although his comments that the centurions bathed in the nude, caused Martha to
cry out in surprise.  We spent a delightful morning sightseeing and shopping
and even took tea in the Pump Room.

Andrew
was waiting for us when we arrived back at the hotel.  “Look what came while
you were out.”  He waved a piece of paper in front of my face.

“Go
on, surprise me,” I said dryly.

“An
invitation to sing in Bath Abbey on Sunday.”

I
felt stunned.  “But why would I want to sing in an abbey?”

“I
thought you sang in the chapel back in the Rhondda.”

“That
was when I was a slip of a girl.”

He
folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at me.  “Oh, I get the picture.  Miss
Emmeline Barri is too high and mighty to sing in a church now.”

My
face turned scarlet.  “No.  What I’m saying is that the timetable is fixed.”  I
pulled the piece of paper out of his hand. “Are you saying we should break with
the timetable and do this?”

“What
I’m saying, little songbird of mine, is that it does no harm to stay on God’s
side.  And besides, we don’t leave Bath until Monday, so you have the time.”

My
eyes flicked over the letter.  “Oh, this is from the bishop.”

“The
Bishop of Bath and Wells?” asked Martha, her face turning ash white.

“The
very man,” I nodded.

“Well,
that does it, Miss Barri.  You can’t turn this invitation down.  You’ll be
excommunicated if you do.”

Bath
Abbey was wonderful and as we walked through it we admired the West Window with
its scenes from the Old Testament.  The chapels and high altar, the lectern and
the early sixteenth century ceiling with its heraldic shields, made us look
around us in wonder.

“They
want me to sing here?” I asked in amazement.

Andrew
nodded toward a man approaching us, who turned out to be the choirmaster.  He
led us into a small office and in a pleasant but efficient manner asked if I
would be so kind as to sing
Amazing Grace
, with the choir on Sunday.  I
groaned.  I hoped they would ask me to sing any hymn but that one.  And then
with Andrew and Martha watching me with amusement and blushing to the roots of
my hair, I said I would be delighted.

“The
Bishop of Birmingham heard about your wonderful rendition, Miss Barri, and told
our bishop.  And since you are in Bath, we wondered if you’d do us the honour. 
We have a wonderful choir that will accompany you.  You can rehearse with them,
so that you’ll feel more comfortable at the evening service.”

I
could only nod in agreement.

And I
did meet the choir and the organist that Saturday afternoon and I enjoyed the
rehearsal.  It was lovely to be singing in a place of worship again, especially
in one so magnificent as Bath Abbey.  Afterwards, I rushed back to the theatre
for the final evening performance, before our departure to Bristol.

“You’re
going to have to wear something dignified but charming tomorrow,” said Martha,
later that night.  She pulled out a royal blue skirt and jacket. “This I think,
with a pretty blouse and a dainty, velvet hat with the bow at the side.”

I
looked up from doing my nails and sighed.  I might as well leave it to Martha;
she was always right when it came to my dress for any occasion.

We
travelled to the abbey in a carriage, since the weather was lovely and mild,
the scent of spring flowers drifting on the air.  I felt elated that evening
and special, as though God had chosen me, even though the invitation had come
from the bishop.  We entered the huge building through the side door and I was
given a seat by the side of the choir, but out of sight of the congregation.  I
felt very confident even though there were hundreds of people filling the
seats.  And then the service began.

It
was after the Lord’s Prayer that the dean informed the congregation that Miss
Emmeline Barri had graciously consented to sing the last hymn and one she had
become associated with.  I stood and made my way to the front, facing the many
people sitting in the nave.  I would sing this hymn for Brett, I thought
sadly.  Perhaps at this very moment, he needed some divine help and comfort. 
The organ’s deep, rich tones rose to the ceiling and lifting my head and
directing my voice to the great West Window and its Old Testament scenes, I
started singing.

The
words of this well-known hymn seemed to come from my lips as though it was a
prayer.  And in a way, I was praying.  For strength and guidance.  And yet I
sung it with joy.  The choir sang in accompaniment and I knew that the blending
of my voice and that of the men and boys of the choir was inspiring.

A
feeling of power, of strength surged through me.  For some strange reason I
suddenly felt that I was being watched.  That seems a silly thing to say, since
the abbey was packed to overflowing, but this was different.  I felt the hairs
stand up on the back of my neck.

The
hymn came to an end and an appreciative sigh flowed round the abbey.  There was
no applause, it wasn’t appropriate in a place of worship.  I dropped my eyes
and then I don’t know how I saw him amongst the multitude of faces that were
still watching me.  Perhaps it was because he was near the front and once I had
seen him, no one else seemed to matter.  But there he was and I could see the
tender expression in his eyes as he smiled.  I resumed my seat next to the
choir, my heart pounding like a drum roll, my hands shaking.  And at the end of
the service, I escaped Bath Abbey as if it was on fire.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR

W
e
went straight back to the hotel after the service and dressed for dinner, but
my nerves got the better of me and I fumbled with the buttons on my gown and
struggled putting silk flowers in my hair.  In the end, I had to ask for
Martha’s help.

“What
is the matter with you, Miss Barri,” she laughed.  “I can feel you shaking. 
Did you see a ghost in the abbey?”

She
didn’t know how close to the truth she had come.

Brett
had seemed like a ghost, since he was the one person I didn’t expect to see. 
But a ghost he certainly was not and I wondered what he was doing in Bath.  I
hadn’t noticed Angelique or Emily and I’m sure I would have if they had been
with him.  Had he come alone?  Had he found out who I was and come searching
for me?  The only thing I was sure of was that he had been smiling at me and in
that smile I had seen that he still loved me.

In
the dining room, I found I had no appetite.  While Martha and Andrew chatted
away, I quickly looked around the opulent glass and gilt room, my eyes
searching the tables.  But then stupidly, I realised that he couldn’t be
staying in the same hotel, since I had been there for four nights and our paths
would have crossed before now.  I tried to eat, but I found swallowing
difficult.  I would retire to my room as soon as possible, I decided, and if I
received a message that I had a visitor, I would say firmly that I was tired
and couldn’t see anyone.  It was true.  I felt emotionally exhausted and
desperately wanted to lay my head on a soft pillow.  And once the morning had
come, we would catch the train to Bristol and that would give me some breathing
space.

It
was then I realised I had left my prayer book in the abbey and I let out a
groan.

“What
is it?” asked Andrew, looking up from pushing the last bit of apple pie on his
plate into his mouth.

I
shrugged.  “I’ve left my prayer book under the seat in the abbey.  I forgot to
collect it after the service.”

“Get
it tomorrow before we set off for the station,” he smiled.

“I’d
rather get it tonight.  It belonged to my mother and I’d hate to lose it.”

We
had finished eating and he threw his napkin on the table.  “Then I’ll come with
you.”

“Oh,
that’s not necessary.  It’s only a short walk and it’s not dark yet.”

He
shook his head.  “No, I’ll accompany you.  It’s not safe for a lady to be
walking the streets alone at night.”

“In
Bath?  I think it would be very safe,” I grinned.  “It’s full of invalids
taking the waters.”

He
smiled but I knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.  Martha said she
would retire early and I went upstairs with her, to collect my cape.

When
I came down Andrew was standing by the clerk’s desk, holding a piece of paper. 
He was frowning.

“I’m
ready,” I said.

He
looked at me blankly.  “Pardon?”

I dug
him in the ribs.  “The abbey, remember?  We’re going to search for my prayer
book.”

“Yes,
quite.”  He looked down at the paper again as if bewildered.

“If
you’ve changed your mind then please tell me.”  I glanced at the letter.  “Is
it important?  By your expression, it seems important.”

He
gave me a slight smile and then folding it, shoved it in his jacket pocket.

“Oh,
no.  Just a confirmation for the booking in Cardiff and Swansea.”

His
words made me catch my breath; it was my first visit to my homeland since
leaving it ten years before and Andrew had been enthusiastic about including
Wales on the list of venues. 

“Must
give your people the opportunity of seeing you,” he had told me.  “They’ll be
delighted and proud of their daughter of Wales.”  I was looking forward to it
very much.

I
watched Andrew suspiciously as he tucked the letter away.  Perhaps it was from
an admirer, a lady who wished to meet him and he was considering the
invitation.  The revolving doors turned and a tall, well-dressed gentleman
appeared in the foyer.  My heart almost stopped beating.  If I had thought I
could escape Brett, I had been sadly mistaken.

He
saw us immediately and smiling crossed the floor towards us.  I knew my
expression showed panic.  I watched him as though he was a policeman and I was
about to be arrested.

“Good
evening, Mrs Asquith.  It’s lovely to see you again.”

I
cleared my throat.  “Good evening, my lord.  You look very well.”  I turned to
Andrew who was staring at him with a dark expression that startled me.  I felt
uneasy and decided the sooner they became acquainted the better.  “Andrew, may
I introduce a friend of mine, Viscount Shelbrook.  Brett, this is Mr Andrew
Perry, my manager.”

They
shook hands and although Brett smiled, I could see that Andrew was far from
comfortable.

“So,
you’re the fellow that’s making Mrs Asquith the toast of England,” Brett
chuckled.

“No,
Mrs Asquith accomplished that herself,” said Andrew steely-faced.  “I’m just
guiding her in the right direction.”

Silence
fell and I glanced at one and then the other.  Brett was all charm and
politeness, but Andrew watched him with suspicion.  I felt the need to remind
him of our errand.

“My
prayer book, Andrew.  We’re on our way to the abbey, remember?”

“Yes,
indeed,” he said slowly.

“Perhaps
I could accompany Mrs Asquith,” said Brett.  “It’s a lovely night and very
mild.  The walk would be stimulating.”

Andrew
frowned.  “I think not, sir.  This lady is my responsibility.”

To my
amazement, his offhand manner didn’t seem to disturb Brett.  “And I appreciate
that.  However, Mrs Asquith will be perfectly safe in my company.”

Suddenly,
I felt like a rabbit being torn apart by two quarrelsome dogs.

“Andrew,
you must allow Lord Shelbrook to accompany me,” I said crossly.

“Excuse
us for a moment, sir,” said Andrew and placing his hand on my elbow he guided
me to the far side of the room.  “Isabelle, I can’t let you go off with this
man…”

“Gentleman,”
I corrected him.

“Very
well, gentleman.  I don’t know him.”

“But
I do.”

“How
long have you known him?”

“I
met him…the Christmas I visited Claythorpe House.  He’s a friend of Lord
Waltham.”

Andrew
looked over at the man standing patiently by the desk; a man who seemed quite
amused at the altercation taking place.  “He’s a friend of Alastair’s?” he said
slowly.

I
nodded.  “Yes, and I know I’ll be quite safe with him.”  I patted his pocket. 
“Anyway, haven’t you someone to meet?”

He
reeled back as though I had slapped him in the face.  He gripped my arm tighter
and I winced.  “How did you know…?”

“Don’t
keep her waiting,” I said quietly.  “Ladies don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Andrew
gave me the strangest of looks and then sighing in frustration, took my arm
once more and led me over to Brett.  “Very well, sir.  But would you be so kind
as to bring her straight back.”

I
sniffed indignantly.  “If you weren’t my manager you would make me an excellent
father.”

Brett
smiled at me and offered his arm.  “Then I’d better do as your papa says.”

I
took his arm.  “He has strict rules, I’m afraid.”

As we
headed for the door, Brett bent his head and whispered,  “Ah, but rules are
meant to be broken.” 

I
glanced over my shoulder and saw Andrew taking the stairs two at a time.  This
lady friend of his must be important.  Outside, a warm breeze fanned our
cheeks. 

“So,
that’s Alastair’s old school chum?” asked Brett, after a few minutes.

“Yes. 
I thought you would have known him too.  Didn’t you go to the same school as
Lord Waltham?”

He
shook his head.  “I went to Eton not Harrow.  I met Alastair because our
fathers owned stud farms and would meet on business.  And our mothers became
firm friends and would often visit each other.”

I
couldn’t help grinning.  “Good thing Alastair hadn’t been Alice or you might
have had a choice of two brides.”  He chuckled and squeezed my hand.  I became
serious.  “Brett, why are you here?”

“Because
now that I’ve found you again, there was no way I could leave Bath without
speaking to you.”

“What
do you want to speak to me about?”

“I
want to clear the air and make things right between us.”

“I
suppose the abbey is as good a place as any.”

“It
is,” he said firmly and his hand closed over mine.

The
abbey was locked at nine o’clock, so we had a good hour in front of us.  We
walked the short distance very quickly and talked of meaningless things, the
weather, the splendours of Bath and then I told him that Danny had gone to
visit Lord and Lady Waltham but would be returning the following day.

“He’s
coming to Bath?” he asked with interest.

I
shook my head.  “No, we leave for Bristol tomorrow and we’ll be meeting him
there.”

“Where
do you go after Bristol?”

“To
Cardiff and Swansea,” I smiled.  “I’m so delighted to be going back to Wales
again and to sing in a theatre in front of my countrymen.  They’ll insist I
sing in Welsh, I’m sure.”

We
reached the abbey and went straight inside, the spiritual silence wrapping us
in a blanket of peace and quiet.  I walked to the choir and soon found my
prayer book, still under the chair where I had left it.

“There
it is,” I said, scooping it up.  I ran my hands lovingly over the leather
cover.  “It belonged to my mama and I inherited it after she died.”

“Shall
we sit?” asked Brett.  I hesitated, wondering if it was wise, since Andrew
expected us to return immediately.  Suddenly I felt angry.  Andrew was not my
papa and he had no rights over my free time.  Besides, if he was meeting a
‘lady admirer’, he wouldn’t be back himself for a while.  Brett was waiting for
me to sit and so I made myself comfortable in the front pew.  He took the seat
beside me and looked up at the ceiling.  “This is a beautiful building.”

I
nodded.  “Truly wonderful.”

“A
splendid place to sing.”

“Yes. 
The acoustics are perfect.”

He
hesitated, as his eyes swept over me.  “So, you’re not a music teacher?”  I
didn’t feel the need to answer.  “You’re the celebrated Miss Emmeline Barri?” 
I nodded feeling very guilty.  “When did you intend telling me?”

“Actually,
in your room at The Savoy.”  I lifted my chin defiantly.  “I was just about to,
but then you thwarted me by telling me…Oh, you know what you said.”

“I
certainly do.”

“So,
you came to the abbey tonight to hear me sing?”

He
smiled slightly.  “Oh, no.  I came to the abbey to hear Miss Barri sing.  I
read in the paper only this morning that she was making an appearance and since
Alastair had waxed lyrical about her, I thought I would take a look myself and
make up my own mind.”

“And
what did you think of her?”

He
leaned back in his seat.  “I thought her…beautiful.  Inspiring.  And, to tell
you the truth, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

“You
liked her singing?” I asked coyly, looking down at the prayer book resting on
my lap.

“I
thought she was unbelievable.”

“And
worth every penny of one shilling and sixpence?”

Without
looking at me, he reached across and covered my hands with one of his.  “Every
single penny and more, my darling.”

I
looked at him and seeing his firm, strong profile, I decided that it was time
to tell him everything.  In a voice that was choked, I said,  “It’s what
I…needed the money for.  The twelve…hundred pounds.”

He
turned his head to look at me, frowning.  “To sing?”  I nodded and told him
everything.  His eyes stayed on me throughout.  “Dear Lord.  You went through
childbirth, to get the money to train as an opera singer?”

“Yes.”

“You
couldn’t find the money any other way?”

“No.”

“Would
no one be your patron?  Surely you knew someone of influence who would have put
up the money for you?”

“But
I didn’t.  Everyone I knew was struggling as much as I.”

“Even
with a voice as beautiful as yours?”

“Oh,
Brett, there are hundreds of hopefuls with beautiful voices, waiting their
opportunity.  Even after the academy and I went to Covent Garden, I had to be
in the chorus for a number of years, before I was finally offered a leading
role.  It’s been a long and difficult road, believe me.”

He
blew out a long breath.  “Goodness, you should have told me you wanted to go to
the academy when we first met.  I would have given you my patronage gladly.”