Daughter of Deceit (11 page)

Lisa let herself be persuaded. Someone outside the stage door as she left had asked for her autograph and that had raised her spirits considerably.

As before, the press was more concerned with Desiree’s absence than Lisa’s presence. One bilious attack would have been passed over as something that could happen to anyone; but two aroused suspicion. There were hints. Could it be that Desiree’s indisposition might be due to an inclination to take just a little too much of her favourite beverage?

This set my mother and Dolly seething with rage and resentment—even threatening to take action against the offending journalist. After a while, though, they grew calmer.

“What can you do?” said my mother. “You’ve just got to take what they hand out to you.”

Apart from that it seemed that the press had decided that an understudy’s taking over from a well-known actress for a night— or two—was no great news.

Because it had happened so recently, on this occasion in the park, Lisa’s taking over the part during my mother’s enforced absence was the main topic of conversation.

Roderick listened politely as Lisa went over it all.

Poor Lisa, I thought. I supposed talking about it gave some balm to her wounded spirit. She was explaining to him the feeling of numbed terror as the curtain rose.

“I know all the numbers … all the steps. I’ve watched them from the chorus whenever I was onstage, and the chorus is used nearly all the time in
Countess Maud …
and yet I keep asking myself, ‘Can I remember this? What’s the first line after that?’ Your knees knock together. You’re sure the words won’t come.”

I put in: “My mother always says it is necessary to feel nervous if you are going to give a good performance, and you obviously did that, Lisa.”

“I do hope so. But nobody noticed …”

“Dolly did. He was pleased with you, really. I could tell that.”

“He said the show would close if Desiree had any more bilious attacks.”

“Of course it wouldn’t and she won’t. Missing a night or two only makes the people more eager to see her.”

I turned to Roderick. “Do forgive our going on about this. It was so important to Lisa.”

“I can understand that,” he said. He turned to her. “I wish I had been there.”

“I’m glad you weren’t. I’d rather you saw me when I had had a little more practice.”

“I hope no more practice with
Maud, ”
I said quickly. “You can only have that if my mother has more attacks and we should all be very worried if she did.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t. I agree. / was really worried when she had that second one … but of course it was just a coincidence … as the doctor said. It can happen.”

“Perhaps,” suggested Roderick, “you could get the leading part in another play … after what you have done in this one. It must be very difficult to be called upon at a moment’s notice. Everyone will know that.”

“It’s part of an understudy’s job. I have to be grateful that I got a start at all. It is so hard to get going without friends.”

“Well, you have friends now,” said Roderick.

She seemed to realize that we had been talking too much about her affairs and she said quickly: “Do tell us more about those wonderful discoveries on your land. How I should love to see them!”

And so we talked, and I felt faintly resentful because once again she had interrupted my session with Roderick.

I went with my mother to visit Janet Dare. She lived in a small house in Islington which she shared with a friend. She was delighted to see us.

The first thing she said was: “Look! No crutches.”

“Wonderful!” cried my mother. “When are you coming back?”

“I have to do some exercises first. It’s the dancing, you see. That’s going to take a little time. If it weren’t for that, I should be back in a week or so. I hope everything’s going all right and Mr. Dollington understands.”

“Of course he does.”

“It was wonderful of him to go on paying my salary. I don’t know what I should have done otherwise.”

I knew why that was. I had heard my mother arguing with him about it. Dolly had said the company could not afford to pay a girl who wasn’t working, particularly in that he had had to top up Lisa Fennell’s salary on account of her taking on understudy.

“Don’t be mean, Dolly,” my mother had said. “What’s the poor girl going to live on if you don’t pay her salary?”

“What she lives on when she’s out of work, I suppose,” answered Dolly.

“You’re a hard one, Dolly.”

“Desiree, I’m in business. I’ve got to make the show pay or we’ll all be out of work.”

Finally they had come to an arrangement. The company would put Janet on half pay and my mother would make up the rest. Only Janet wasn’t to know, because she’d feel awkward if she did.

I wanted to blurt this out, for I always wanted people to know how good my mother was. She, who knew me well, understood and flashed a warning glance at me.

Janet was saying: “They tell me it will be two more weeks before I should attempt to practise. I reckon it will be a month before I’m back. My legs will be stiff at first.”

“You don’t want to strain yourself. Lisa Fennell’s quite good.”

“That new girl! What a chance for her! To go on twice!”

“Due to my silly digestion.”

“I read the papers. It wasn’t exactly fame overnight, was it?” she added with a faint hint of satisfaction.

“That’s mostly a romantic dream, you know.”

“It has happened. But not to Lisa.”

“She hasn’t been long on the stage,” I said, defending her. “She really did quite well.”

“Quite well is a polite way of saying not quite well enough,” said Janet. “I reckon I could have made them sit up.”

“I can see that I have been a little remiss,” said my mother with a laugh. “I should have had more bilious attacks.”

“Oh no … no,” cried Janet. “I didn’t mean that! I was horrified when I heard.”

“That’s all right, dear, I understand. It’s all very natural. One man’s meat is another man’s poison, as they say. Well, it certainly was poison in this case. However, I shall be careful in future. And don’t you worry. You’ll have a name one day. It’s a name you want. It’s funny what a name does. People have a way of thinking you’re good if they’ve been told so. And the more they’re told, the better they believe you to be. The idea is planted in their heads before they’re aware of it.”

When we left, my mother said: “Poor girl! It’s dreadful for her. I hope she’ll soon be dancing again.”

Lisa was very interested when she heard we had been to see Janet Dare.

“It will be some time before she dances again,” I told her.

“It must be awful for her. I know just how she must be feeling.”

“She thinks it will be a month. My mother thinks it will be quite six” weeks. If it were just singing she would be all right. It’s the dancing that’s difficult.”

“Roderick Claverham doesn’t often come to the theatre, does he?”

“No. He’s in town only for spells. He’s looking after the family estate.”

“I suppose it is huge.”

“I have never seen it, but from what he says, I gather it must be large.”

“That must be wonderful. Charlie … his father … is such a nice man. What’s his mother like?”

“I’ve never met her.”

Lisa smiled secretively. “No. I suppose the families wouldn’t meet. What I mean is … Charlie’s here when he’s in London … and he’s in London quite often … when you consider there’s this estate in the country.”

Of course, Lisa Fennell was sufficiently worldly-wise to understand the situation. Charlie was so obviously devoted to my mother. They were like a married couple … not in the first flush of passion, but having reached that happy state of understanding and deep affection, as though they had settled down to a sober and rewarding friendship, undemanding and contented.

Lisa continued to talk of the Claverhams and I found myself telling her what I knew of the Kent mansion and Lady Constance.

She listened avidly.

“And you,” she said. “You are really very friendly with Roderick Claverham.”

“We’ve met a few times.”

“Even though he doesn’t come to the house.”

“Well, he could. My mother would be pleased to see him.”

“Yet he doesn’t come. He just arranges to meet you outside.”

“Oh well … we just meet.”

“I know.” She looked amused.

“He comes to London a good deal now, doesn’t he?”

“People do, don’t they? They like the country, but it’s nice to get away from it now and then.”

“He’s like his father.” She was smiling to herself. “How long is he staying in London?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought he said something about being here till the end of the week.”

“Oh
yes, I
remember. You are very interested in him.”

“I am interested in everyone and he is very interesting. So is his father … and Desiree and you … I’ve always been interested in people around me, haven’t you?”

“I suppose so.”

But I felt she was particularly concerned with Roderick Claverham.

Then it happened again. It was about three o’clock in the afternoon. My mother was resting, as she often did, in readiness for the evening’s performance. I went in to see her.

She was lying on her bed, and the moment I entered the room, I could see that something was wrong.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’ve got that silly queasy feeling coming on.”

“Oh no!” I cried, alarm creeping over me.

“It’ll
pass. When something like that has happened you imagine it’s going to repeat itself. That’s all it is. Imagination.”

“Lie still, then, and perhaps it will pass.”

“I hope so, darling. I think it might just be nerves. This maddening countess has been part of my life for too long.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been all that much of a long run yet.”

“I get like this after a while … unsettled… I keep thinking of something new. I’m restless by nature. I’ll be all right. Did you want something? Was that why you came in?”

“No, nothing special. I just wanted to see whether you were asleep. Do you feel any better now?”

“Not really, dear. I’m becoming afraid there’s no doubt that it is that silly old thing again.”

“Shall I send for the doctor?”

“No, no. He’ll only say it’s something I’ve eaten.”

“What have you eaten?”

“Nothing much since the dinner last night and the milk I had after the show. I just had coffee and toast for breakfast and a little fish for lunch.”

“Fish again?”

“I
often have fish.”

“It’s very strange. I’m worried about you.”

“Oh, my darling, you mustn’t be. I’ll be all right. Strong as a horse, that’s me.”

“What about those attacks? They are getting too frequent.”

“Darling, I think there’s no help for it. Dolly will have to be told.”

I was really worried now. This was the third time over a fairly short period. Something would have to be done.

Dolly was in despair. He had got away with it twice, and now here it was again. It looked as though it were becoming a habit.

At five o’clock that afternoon my mother was certain she could not go on that night. By this time Dolly was really frantic. What was the audience going to say this time? People would think it was no use booking. You never knew what you were going to see. The press would have a field day. They were already hinting that Desiree’s troubles were due to intoxication. That sort of thing did an actress no good with the public. Who was going to believe in these bilious attacks?

That was the trouble. I did not believe in them either. I was terribly afraid that there was some reason for them other than that they were due to something she had eaten.

Martha felt the same. She averted her eyes and muttered something to herself.

“Tomorrow,” she said, “I’m going to get another opinion. No more of that dithering old Green.”

The immediate concern was the night’s show.

Lisa was in a nervous state. Like all actresses in a similar position, she had hoped for fame overnight. She had scarcely had that. I was not sure whether her performances had done her more harm than good. But she was always hopeful. This would be her third attempt and I knew she was practising the leading role all the time.

My mother said to me: “Do go tonight. I think it helps Lisa to know you’re there. Robert is in town. He’ll go with you.”

I did not want her to know how anxious I was about her, so I agreed. The next day Martha and I would put our heads together
and decide what should be done. We would call in a specialist and try to find out if there was anything seriously wrong.

Just before Lisa left for the theatre I had a word with her.