Rhiannon (10 page)

She made her way to the girls' dressing-room. She enjoyed being with them. They treated her as one of them and it was as good a place as any to keep out of the way of Rhiannon. The dressing-room was abuzz with activity. Fifteen girls shared the narrow room; along one side ran a mirrored wall complete with a fifteen-foot-long dressing-table
and fifteen seats, thus allowing each girl her individual make-up area. On the opposite wall was fixed a long hanger rail to hold their costumes.

‘Hello, Mair, you look as if you've seen a ghost. What's up, duck?' Sally Webber asked as she stepped out of her street-urchin costume and placed it on a hanger. She seemed unabashed to parade in her tight-fitting undergarments. Mair had never before seen such underwear. She felt her colour rise.

‘I reckon some young ruffian in the gods has been taking liberties with her ... the lucky cow!' Clara Boxall, one of the older dancers teased.

‘What he do, shove his hand up your skirt or grab a feel of your tits?' Bella, a dancer at the other end of the dressing-room called, causing shrieks of laughter.

‘Go on, you can tell us,' Clara coaxed.

Mair didn't like being teased. ‘No! Shut up. Nothing's happened and there's nothing wrong with me, so there!' she shouted.

‘We'll believe you, tho' thousands wouldn't,' Clara goaded.

‘On stage in three minutes,' Percy called as he knocked on the door.

‘Three minutes! Christ, we'd better get a move on or the SM will have our guts for garters.'

The mood had changed and for now Mair was off the hook.

It was Sunday morning and, despite a sharp wind, had the making of a beautiful late-spring day. Nellie Parsons, having reverted to her maiden name, dressed in her new turquoise-blue dress and large straw hat quietly left the flat and, after closing the door, crept down the stairs and through the front door. She had left Harry sleeping off the effects of a late night down the pub. With a bit of luck she would be back before he woke up. If her idea went to plan, he was going to be so pleased with her.

Nellie walked briskly up the length of Westgate Street and within minutes had arrived at the Angel Hotel. Aware of the doorman's cursory glance, she immediately slid her gloved hands down to slightly raise her skirt before walking up the few steps to the grand entrance. With her head held high she waited for the doorman to open the large, heavy, brass-framed glass doors. She flashed the doorman a friendly smile. He nodded and, raising a hand, politely touched the brim of his red-and-gold top hat.

She entered the foyer and instantly caught her breath, overawed by its red-and-gold grandeur and the huge chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.

‘Excuse me, miss. I'm the hotel manager. Can I help you?'

A smart middle-aged man, wearing a dark pinstriped suit, navy satin tie and a brilliant, crisply starched white shirt, stood in front of her.

Nellie didn't like the way he seemed to look down his nose at her.

She stood tall. She had been practising her lines for days. ‘I'm here to see Miss Florrie Grayson,' she said confidently.

‘May I ask if Miss Grayson is expecting you?'

‘What's it to do with you?' she snapped. Then, seeing how taken
aback he seemed, she gave a wry smile. ‘If you would be kind enough to just let Miss Grayson know that Miss Nellie Parsons is here, then I'm sure she'll want to see me.' She threw him a look of defiance.

‘Very well. If you would like to take a seat I will ring her room and let her know that you are here.' With that, he turned abruptly and strutted off towards the reception area, his back so stiff and upright Nellie could have sworn he had a broomhandle stuck up his arse.

‘First round to me I think, you pompous old bugger,' Nellie mumbled under her breath as she sank into a deep dark-red leather chair situated in the lounge area.

Nellie sat fidgeting with her handkerchief for what seemed ages. She felt uncomfortably out of place, wide-eyed at the clientele as they passed by – totally ignoring her.

Eventually the manager returned. ‘Miss Parsons. Miss Grayson will be down to see you shortly.'

Nellie threw him a look that said
I told you so.

He kept his composure. ‘Miss Parsons, if you would please follow me. Miss Grayson has requested the use of my office to assure your privacy.'

After escorting her to his office the manager took a quick departure. Apart from a huge mahogany desk, the manager's office was furnished and decorated in the same red and gold as the foyer and with similar leather chairs.

Within minutes there was a light tap on the door. The door opened and Florrie Desmond entered the room. She was wearing a dark-blue day suit with a figure-hugging bolero jacket and a long skirt, her high-piled auburn hair coiffed to perfection.

Nellie rose to her feet.

‘Please, be seated,' Florrie instructed as she settled herself in the seat opposite Nellie.

Nellie took a deep breath. ‘Miss Grayson, I'm Mair's—'

Florrie interrupted quickly, ‘Mair's mother. I know. Would this be the same mother who walked out on her when she abandoned my dear brother-in-law and young niece?'

Nellie was taken aback by the abruptness of Florrie's manner. This was not the reception she had expected.

‘I had my reasons,' Nellie said.

‘All of them selfish, no doubt. Tell me, Miss Parsons, why are you here?'

Nellie decided it was time for a change of tactics. It was time to show
this old music-hall star what a real performance was.

‘Miss Grayson, it's true. I've not been the best mother in the world, but that doesn't mean that I don't love my Mair something dreadful. When I bumped into her the other day at the theatre, I realized how much I missed her. You see, Miss Grayson, for years, before I ever went to work for Dai Hughes, it was just Mair and me against the world ... and now... .' Nellie raised her handkerchief and pretended to wipe the tears from her eyes.

‘So, you want her back, is that it?'

‘In an ideal world, yes – oh yes. But no! Despite what you think, I couldn't be that selfish. It wouldn't be right for me to take her away from Rhiannon and you.'

‘Forgive me, I'm confused. If you don't want her back then what
do
you want?' Florrie sounded irritated.

‘I thought maybe ... some compensation? It's only fair that I be compensated for the loss of my child. Don't you agree?'

‘And what do
you
think a fair compensation would be?'

Nellie found it hard to contain her excitement. She'd done it – She'd bloody well gone and done it! ‘I thought, say, two hundred pounds. Obviously, it would be a one-off payment. I'll not bother you again.'

‘All you want is two hundred pounds? I find that unbelievable.' Florrie shook her head.

Nellie cursed herself – why hadn't she asked for more?

‘Tell me, Miss Parsons, how low can you stoop? You would actually sell your daughter for a mere two hundred pounds?'

Suddenly Nellie knew it was all going wrong. ‘You can afford it!' she snapped.

‘That's as maybe. I've got news for you. I'll not pay you a penny! In fact if, as you say, you miss Mair so much, I, for one, am all in favour of your being reunited with your daughter.'

‘But—'

‘No! It's all arranged. As soon as I knew you were here, I assumed you had come to – rightly – claim your daughter. With this in mind, I arranged for my agent to inform Mair of the good news, and to ask Rhiannon to help pack her things.'

At that precise moment there was a knock on the door.

Florrie stood up. ‘I'll wager that'll be her now.' She faced Nellie and, sliding her hand into her jacket pocket, she produced a handful of crisp five-pound notes. ‘There's fifty pounds.'

Nellie's eyes lit up as she made a grab for the money.

Florrie pulled her hand and the money to her chest. ‘Not so fast. You should know you get nothing for nothing.'

‘I thought there'd be a catch,' Nellie spat.

‘All I want you to do is continue your act – you know, the one where in an ideal world you'd love to have Mair back, and the money is yours. It's what Mair needs to believe.'

‘And if I don't?'

‘I'm sure the police would be very interested in your plan to sell your daughter.'

Nellie's head dropped.

‘Is it a deal?' This time Florrie edged closer and placed the notes in Nellie's hand.

Nellie nodded. ‘It's a deal.'

‘Good. But remember this is a one-off payment; there'll be no more where that came from.'

There was another tap on the door, this one more urgent. Florrie opened the door to reveal Mair and Rhiannon, both red-eyed from crying, escorted by a solemn-looking Walter, Mair's small suitcase at his side.

They entered the office and Rhiannon's eyes instantly pleaded with Florrie's but she was having none of it. The last thing she needed at this moment was an emotional scene.

‘Walter, would you kindly escort Rhiannon back to her room.'

‘But Aunt Florrie, I don't understand ... why are you sending Mair away?' Rhiannon pleaded.

‘Rhiannon, don't be a silly girl, I'm not sending Mair away. Her mother has simply come for her. It is her right, after all. Miss Parsons desperately wants to be reunited with her daughter. And who are we to stand in her way?' Florrie threw Nellie a look, daring her to contradict her.

Nellie raised her handkerchief to her eyes and, once again, pretended to dab her tears. ‘Mair, love. I've missed you so much.'

‘I don't believe you!' Rhiannon shouted. ‘If you missed her so much how come you've never tried to get in touch?'

‘Rhiannon, that's enough! Please do as I bid and go with Walter. I promise I'll come to see you soon to explain everything.'

‘But—'

‘Rhiannon, I mean it!'

Rhiannon put an arm around Mair. ‘Mair, please, don't cry. I promise this is not the end of it.'

‘It's – all right, Rhi! I always – knew that – your – aunt – didn't want me,' Mair sobbed. ‘I'll go with my mam – it's for the best, eh?'

Walter gently pulled Rhiannon away from Mair. ‘Come on, Rhi. I'm sure you'll see each other soon.'

A reluctant Rhiannon did as she was bid. As she left the room she looked across at Florrie and Nellie and shouted, ‘I hate you for this.'

Neither woman knew which one of them the outburst was directed at – maybe it was at both of them.

Florrie accompanied Nellie and Mair from the manager's office to the foyer in silence.

‘Is everything all right, Miss Grayson?' the manager asked.

‘Yes, everything is fine. Thank you for the use of your office. I'm pleased to say that our business has been satisfactorily completed and my guests are ready to leave.' Florrie turned to Nellie. ‘I'll bid you goodbye now, Miss Parsons ... Mair,' she gave a false smile. ‘The hotel manager will show you out.'

Mair glared at Florrie. Florrie dismissed it. She had always thought of Mair as a moody, petulant child. And one who needed strong parental control. As she watched Mair and her mother leave the Angel Hotel she congratulated herself on a good morning's work. It was now time to face Rhiannon.

 

Rhiannon paced the room. She was angry and upset. Not just with Nellie but also her Aunt Florrie. She totally blamed her Aunt Florrie for allowing this to happen. And when, as promised, Florrie came to her room, Rhiannon couldn't wait to vent her feelings.

‘How could you have let this happen? Why did you just stand by and let Nellie take Mair away, away to God knows where?' Rhiannon was almost hysterical.

‘Rhiannon, please calm down. It wasn't like that. My hands were tied. Nellie is Mair's mother. She was well within her rights. I'm afraid there was nothing I or anyone else could do to stop her. So the sooner you come to terms with it the better.' With that her aunt left the room.

Rhiannon was fuming. It was obvious that as far as her aunt was concerned there was nothing anyone could do. But Rhiannon was having none of it. She didn't believe for one moment that Nellie wanted Mair back with her. This was not the Nellie she remembered. So what had really happened between Nellie and Aunt Florrie?

Rhiannon vowed to get to the truth. She had meant what she said
when she promised Mair that this was not the end of it. She took her mind back to the events earlier in the day, when Walter had asked her to help Mair to pack her things. When she questioned why, he simply told her that Mair's mother had come for her.

‘I don't want to go with her, Rhi.' Mair had cried. ‘Please let me stay with you. I promise I'll be good.'

Rhiannon felt powerless.

‘I don't understand. Where has Nellie suddenly appeared from? How did she know where to find you?'

‘It's my fault. I bumped into her at the theatre last week. She and Harry Stone are living together in Cardiff and, apparently, she's a regular visitor to the Theatre Bar. Oh Rhi, it was obvious to me that she hadn't missed me one bit. I wanted to show her how well we were doing without her. You should have seen the way her eyes lit up when I mentioned that we were staying at the Angel Hotel.'

‘Mmm – I bet. But why didn't you tell me that you'd seen her?'

‘I'm sorry, Rhi. I just didn't want to admit how little I meant to my
so-called
mother.'

Rhiannon could well understand Mair's secrecy. It must be very difficult – having to admit that your own mother does not care for you. But knowing the truth only made the mystery deepen as to the reason behind Nellie's visit.

 

Outside the Angel Hotel Nellie stopped and stared at Mair.

‘What now?' Mair asked.

‘You may well ask! I'm in a fine pickle, I can tell you.'

‘And I suppose it's my fault?' Mair quipped.

‘Well, in a way, yes. If only that damn woman hadn't been so ... so unreasonable.'

‘Aunt Florrie, you mean?'

‘She's no aunt of yours,' Nellie scoffed. ‘She, with all the airs and graces, has certainly shown her true colours. How right you were when you said she never wanted you.'

‘Just like you then, eh?' Mair snapped. ‘Why couldn't you have let me be? I was all right with Rhiannon – at least she wanted me with her.'

Mair felt her mother's gloved hand strike her face.

‘Ouch, that hurt.'

‘So where's Rhiannon now? I didn't see her run after you. No! From now on you're stuck with me, so, if I were you, I'd keep a civil tongue in my head. Now, come on. Harry will be wondering where I've got to.'

‘Is he expecting me?' Mair asked still rubbing her face.

‘No, he bloody well isn't. And what's more, my Harry don't like surprises. If I were you I'd be on my best behaviour – no backchat! Harry's got a right temper on him. You'd do well to remember that. If you upset him, you're on your own.'

No change there, then, Mair thought.

 

It was with great trepidation that Nellie, with Mair and her suitcase following behind, entered the flat that she shared with Harry. How was she going to explain Mair and the fact that she had been outdone by Florrie Grayson? Her only saving grace was the fifty pounds in her pocket – at least she had that.

Harry Stone stood larger than life in the bay window. Mair's first impression was of a man not long from his bed. He looked unshaven and dishevelled; the braces of his trousers were hanging at his side and his vest was not yet properly tucked in.