The Urchin's Song (16 page)

Barney shook his head. ‘No, not till now.’

‘Look at our Ernest, he was near nodding off a minute ago.’

Barney glanced across the room to where Stanley’s brother was sitting, and saw the small man, who managed Ginnett’s Amphitheatre in Northumberland Road, straining forward in his seat, his eyes riveted on the small figure in the middle of the room.

‘Don’t be surprised if he wants to book her in for a few nights,’ Stanley continued. ‘He was saying just the other day they need a bit of new blood, and he’d pay well. Gets some canny acts, does old Ernest, and many a one has gone on to make a name for themselves.’

‘Book her in?’ Barney was talking to Stanley but his eyes were fixed on Josie. ‘She’s just a little lassie.’

‘Thirteen in January according to your Betty,’ Stanley answered. ‘She won’t be a bairn much longer.’

Barney drew in a long, deep breath. There was a vague feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t place, similar to the sensation he’d had at school when he knew he’d missed something vital in one of the examinations old Walton used to love to set them. His brow wrinkled in bewilderment. But nothing was wrong, this was his wedding day, for crying out loud, and it had been a grand day. Grand.

Nevertheless, when Pearl stirred at the side of him and her voice came, tight and scratchy, saying, ‘Forward little piece, isn’t she! I can see what Prudence means now,’ his own was uncharacteristically harsh as he replied, ‘Prudence doesn’t know what she’s talking about,’ and not at all as one would expect an ardent groom to address his radiant bride on their wedding day.

Barney was instantly contrite, turning quickly to face Pearl and taking her smooth hands in his as he said quietly, ‘I’m the luckiest man alive. You know that, don’t you? There’s not one here today who wouldn’t step into my shoes, given half a chance.’

‘Oh, you.’ Mollified, Pearl smiled sweetly.

‘How much longer do we have to stay?’ Barney murmured. ‘I want to have you all to myself.’

‘Silly.’ Pearl extracted her hands from his, stretching out the left one in order to admire the rose-gold wedding band nestling next to the garnet and pearl engagement ring. ‘We’ve got years and years together.’

She was quite aware of what Barney had meant, however, and felt a moment’s sharp irritation that he had to bring
that
up now, at their wedding feast when she was having such a lovely time. All through their courtship Barney had wanted to fondle and touch her; men were such
base
creatures. Her mam had told her she had to set the tone regarding the physical side of married life right from the start, and she intended to. She wasn’t quite sure exactly what was involved, but her mother had said it wasn’t pleasant but had to be endured - within moderation, that was.

That being the case, she was in no rush for this special day to be over. She’d looked forward to it for so long: wearing her beautiful dress and veil and looking like a princess; walking down the aisle and hearing everyone gasp in admiration; all their friends and family coming back here and making a fuss of her, and all the lovely presents for her dear little house which she’d got just the way she wanted it . . .

And she was going to sort Barney out. She wasn’t going to have him working in the concrete factory much longer, not when Uncle Ernest had already made it plain he’d take him on. She didn’t want a fellow who came home each night covered in dirt and filth and messed everything up, and everyone knew the music halls were where the money was. If they were successful, that was, and her Uncle Ernest’s theatre was
very
successful. Barney could dress smartly when he liked and he looked good in a suit. Pearl slanted a glance at her new husband under her eyelashes. Yes, she’d make something of Barney all right, now he was out of that dreadful hole of a place in Spring Garden Lane. She had never once visited there without a mental shudder at the lack of cleanliness, and if she had her way they would cut the contact completely, especially now Prudence lived elsewhere.

Pearl’s light opaque eyes travelled round the room until they rested briefly on Prudence’s ample frame. Poor Prudence. There was no real sympathy in the thought, rather an underlying satisfaction as her gaze took in the squat body and unattractive face. She would never marry, of course, not looking like that. Pearl glanced down at her own slim tight figure in the clouds of satin. But unmarried women were always useful to have in a family. Someone you could call on at a moment’s notice and know they would always be willing to help, whatever the chore. When the bairns came she could envisage Prudence living with them at some point, especially if everything went according to plan and Barney went up in the world. She’d like to be the kind of wife who had people round for dinner and that sort of thing, and Prudence could be . . . well, not exactly a servant, of course. Pearl paused reflectively. But someone who saw to the children and dealt with the mundane. Of course that wouldn’t happen for years yet, but as her mother always said, it didn’t hurt to plan for the future.

The sound of uproarious applause jolted Pearl out of her thoughts and brought her gaze on Josie, who was now blushing and smiling in the centre of the room. Pearl glanced round and saw that every eye was on the small figure; even her father was shouting for another song.

She bit her lip with vexation. This was
her
day, not that of this troublemaker who’d been thrust upon them. Personally she didn’t know what the fuss was about. Anyone could open their mouth and sing a song, for goodness’ sake. She slanted a glance at Barney, and saw he was clapping as hard as the rest, and although Pearl had brushed his attention away just a minute or so before and had wanted him to leave her alone, now, perversely, she felt extremely hard done by. Barney had neglected her enough for this chit!

‘I want to dance again.’ She stood up as she spoke, her voice high and sharp as she flicked at the table in front of her. ‘Da, tell them to move these tables back so we can dance.’

‘Aye, aye all right, lass. In a minute.’

 

Josie had to work her way through a crowd of folk who all wanted to say how well she had sung before she could reach her mother and Vera, who were now sitting on a long bench against the wall, their table having been one of the first to be taken away.

There was a small man sitting on the other side of Vera but Josie didn’t pay him any attention as her mother said, immediately she saw her, ‘Ee, hinny, that were grand, right grand. Brought to mind some of the sing-songs we had at home when your da was out. You remember, lass?’

‘Aye, I remember, Mam.’ Josie smiled at her mother’s pleasure. She’d stand and sing all day long if it brought that look to her mam’s face.

‘An’ now . . .’ Shirley’s voice was suddenly pensive, ‘scattered here, there an’ everywhere, the lot o’ us. Mind, I’m not complainin’, lass. Never had it so good as at Vera’s. But me mind goes to the lads at times; whether your da is lookin’ after ’em right.’

‘Jimmy will take care of himself
and
Hubert, you know that, Mam. If anyone can handle Da, Jimmy can.’ She didn’t add that the reason for this was because her brother understood the way her father’s mind worked, being so like him.

‘Aye, you’re right there, me bairn. By, you are. An’ I dare say in a month or two the lot of ’em will turn up like bad pennies. Mind, your da’ll get a gliff then, ’cos I’m not budgin’ from Vera’s.’

‘Josie,’ Vera cut in before Shirley could say any more, ‘this is Mr Harper, an’ he wants a word with you, lass. He’s somethin’ important to say.’

Josie smiled and said, ‘How do you do?’ to Mr Harper, but her mind was mainly on her mother’s last words, along with the two figures on the dance-floor. The fiddlers had just begun to play a lively tune and Pearl had swept on to the floor with her new husband, smiling and nodding at everyone as they clapped the bridal pair.

‘It’s like this, lass.’ Ernest Harper was not a man who wasted words. ‘I’m looking for a fill-in for a couple of nights at Ginnett’s, you know? Northumberland Road? I had a canny musical clown with a violin but he upped an’ skedaddled south last week.’

‘He did?’ Josie didn’t have a clue what Mr Harper was talking about.

‘Aye. Now I’ve got a nice comedian who plays the bagpipes an’ banjo an’ a one-string fiddle an’ goodness knows what, an’ he has been doing extra an’ standing in, but old Joey had got a right canny voice, an’ that’s what’s needed. They like a tune, you see, an’ I’ve only one other singer at present, although I’ve wizards an’ ventriloquists an’ acrobats coming out of me ears.’

In spite of herself Josie’s eyes were drawn to the little man’s ears which were long and pointed and stuck straight out at the side of his head. And then she took hold of herself, and said a little breathlessly, ‘I don’t quite understand. Are you offering me a chance to sing at your theatre, Mr Harper?’

‘Just for a night or two, to see how it works,’ Ernest Harper said quickly. He didn’t want to commit himself too far - sometimes they got onstage and dried up worse than old Finley’s backside; you never could tell. But - and here he nodded reflectively - he felt in his water this one was going to come up trumps. She’d had ’em in the palm of her hand when she’d sung just now; if she could do the same at the theatre . . . He felt the stir of excitement - the same feeling he’d had once or twice in the past when he’d come across an act that had something extra. ‘But if you suit us an’ we suit you . . .’

Josie stared at him, her head spinning. There was nothing she would like more than to accept this little man’s offer; it was the sort of chance she’d been dreaming about for years, but since her mind had cleared over the last few days and she had learned that her father had skedaddled with the lads, the weight of her mother’s welfare had settled even heavier on her shoulders. She needed to find work, steady regular work, and pay Betty and Vera what she owed them before she did anything else, and that would take months when you considered the ongoing debt of their board and lodging. The bill for the doctor hadn’t been cheap either, she knew that, and she couldn’t let Frank and Betty cover it. What’s more, her mam couldn’t stay with Vera for ever . . .

Her racing thoughts were cut short as Vera spoke again, saying, ‘Obviously with the lass bein’ so young her mam’ll have a say in this. Can you give us a minute to talk it over?’

‘Oh aye, aye. Aye, of course.’ Ernest hid his disquiet at the thought that this particular prize might slip away from him, but what he said was, ‘Mind, the best of ’em started young on the halls - mostly bairns, the lot of ’em. Look, I’ll say a trial of seven nights, all right? An’ we’ll say two bob a night - that’s more than I’d start many a one off, I tell you straight. You have a think with your mam, lass, an’ I’ll see you afore I go.’ He bobbed his head at them all and moved away.

Had he said two shillings a night? Josie had bargained with too many shopkeepers and the like in her young life to let her amazement at what she considered a huge amount of money show, but two shillings a night! That was fourteen shillings for just singing seven evenings, and she still had the days free. The laundry had paid three shillings and tenpence for five and a half days of backbreaking work, and she knew she’d been lucky to get that. In some of the factories and shops hereabouts, bit lasses of her age were paid no more than two and sixpence a week on account of their age and sex, whilst being expected to do the same day’s work as women three times their age. And a collier like Frank only earned double what Mr Harper had just offered her! Had she heard right?

‘Fourteen shillings, Josie.’ Vera’s voice was hushed, and Shirley sat with her mouth agape staring at her amazing offspring. ‘An’ that’s just for starters, lass. You’ve got to give it a go. Now look, don’t worry about your mam. Me an’ Shirl’ve already decided she’s not leavin’ whatever your da says when he turns up. I’m clearin’ me front room an’ your mam’s havin’ that, an’ there’ll be room for the lads if needs be.’

‘Oh, Vera.’ Josie reached over her mother and took Vera’s hand. ‘Not your lovely front room,’ she protested. ‘You don’t have to, really. I’ll sort something.’

‘You can’t say anythin’ your mam hasn’t said already, hinny, but me mind’s made up. My Horace has never liked me front room anyway - says he don’t dare breathe in it.’ Vera grinned wryly. ‘An’ you’re settled here now; our Bett says she don’t know how she managed with the bairns an’ mendin’ an’ all afore you come. Little godsend, she says you are. Gertie’s doin’ fine, too, aren’t you, lass?’ The little girl had just sidled up to them and this last was said bracingly; Gertie still didn’t like her new school.

Josie looked into the rough square northern face in front of her but found she couldn’t speak for the emotion filling her throat. She saw now why Vera had got Mr Harper to leave them for a while; her friend had known she was teetering on the brink of refusing his offer and the reasons for her hesitation. The love in Vera’s eyes was shining out at her, and it was in answer to that that Josie said, ‘I . . . I could give it a go for a week, couldn’t I? I’ve lost nothing that way. And if it doesn’t work out I can look for something else.’

‘Aye, lass, you could.’

But she would make it work.
As Josie looked at their faces - her mam’s, Vera’s and Gertie’s - they were all expressing different emotions. Her mam’s expression was one of incredulity and a certain amount of bewilderment, Vera’s, one of fierce pride and encouragement; and Gertie was simply trying to work out what was going on and what she had missed. As Josie stared at the three people she loved best in all the world, she knew she would make it work whatever it cost. This was her chance; this was what she had dreamed of ever since she had first started singing in the pubs as a wee bairn - to earn her living singing. True, in those days she had never set her sights further than the pubs and supper rooms, but why couldn’t she aspire higher?

She could learn what to do - how to sing properly, to walk, what clothes to wear and everything - she wasn’t stupid, but unless she put her toe in the water she’d never get started, would she? This was her chance, it was. Everything seemed to have conspired to bring her to this moment; even the nasty run-ins with her da and Patrick Duffy. She felt a moment’s chill but shrugged the spectres aside; she wouldn’t let her da and that other evil man ruin this moment.