Songbird (16 page)

Rehearsals the
following morning started with a few introductions.  Mr Perry stood in front of
us and called out the names of the new members of the chorus.  Everyone clapped
to welcome us and then the hard work began.  I was delighted to be part of the
production of Verdi’s
Aida
, but the most wonderful thing about it all
was that Ruth and Diamond were there to help me.  And they were right about
Signora Zuchetti.  Although gigantic, in appearance and eminence, I would
remember Karl’s comments at our first meeting.  Large ladies bellowing at the
top of their voices, he had said and in Signora Zuchetti’s case he was right. 
But people flocked to see her and the theatre was always full.

Over
the following twelve months, Ruth, Diamond and I became inseparable.  In the
dressing room we would help each other with our costumes and makeup, giggling
at anything and everything.  It wasn’t long before we started visiting each
other in our homes.  I was rather shocked to see their dilapidated room in the
boarding house and although my home was small, it seemed a palace compared with
what they had to put up with.  Danny took to them immediately and it was only a
short time before he started calling them Auntie Ruth and Auntie Di. 

Mr
Perry was a hard taskmaster and my life at Covent Garden became a round of hard
work, late nights and utter exhaustion, allowing me to think of nothing but the
theatre and singing.  Life settled down to a steady routine and rehearsals
followed performance followed rehearsals.  I was happy, but in a hesitant way. 
I couldn’t work out why.  I loved being on the stage and although I couldn’t
see much of the audience because of the lights, I knew they were out there and
for that I was satisfied.  And I certainly enjoyed the applause as we took our
bow.  But my feelings were different from what I had expected. 

Between
performances we tried to find Diamond a husband.  She had supper with quite a
few of the gentlemen who called at the stage door, but finally admitted that
they were after only one thing.  Our Sunday afternoons were spent in hysterical
laughter as she entertained us with stories of the lecherous intentions of some
of her amours. 

“You want us to
move?” said Nan incredulously.

I
nodded.  “I think we should rent a bigger property so we have more space.”

“We
can’t afford it.”

“Yes,
we can.  I’m sure we can.  I was thinking about asking Ruth and Diamond to
share the rent.”

“We’ll
all live together?”

“Why
not?  We can look after one another.”  I reached across and took her hand.  “Oh
Nan, you should see where they’re living.  It’s horrible!  And guess who’s
their landlord?”  She frowned.  “None other than Mr Felix Russell.  Thank God I
didn’t marry him.”

She
thought over my idea.  “So, you haven’t asked them yet?”

“No,
I haven’t.  I wanted to know how you felt about it first.”

“Where
do you want to move to?”

I had
already looked at some possible locations.  “Finsbury.  It’s closer to Covent
Garden.”  I danced round the room with glee.  “It would be wonderful.  And if
we pool our resources, then we should be able to manage.”

Nan
still seemed hesitant.  She didn’t like change.  “Well, put it to the girls and
then we’ll look at some properties.  We mustn’t be too hasty.”

I
smiled with delight and hugged Danny who had been listening while pretending to
be absorbed in his toys.

“Are
we going to live in a new house, Mama?”

“Yes,
dearest.  To a bigger house with a garden instead of a yard.  You’ll be able to
play on a bit of grass instead of the street.”  I kissed my five-year-old son
on his head.

“What
about my friends?”

“You’ll
make new ones and anyway, there’s no reason why your old friends can’t come to
visit you at our new house.”

“And
Uncle Gwilym?”

I
took in a big breath.  “Of course,” I said softly.  “And Uncle Gwilym.”

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

S
ampson
Street was lined with chestnut trees and although mainly terraced houses, they
all had a small garden at the rear with an outhouse in the corner containing
the lavatory.  The house we chose had three bedrooms, a large kitchen and two
main rooms, a parlour and a dining room.  Two of the bedrooms were quite large
and Ruth and Diamond were going to share and the other would be for Nan, so she
could still have room for her needlework commissions.  I took the smaller room
at the back.  Although it was the smallest of the three, it was still larger
than the one I had had in Laurel Close.  Danny and I would still occupy the
same room, with his little bed placed against the wall adjacent to mine.

We
fell in love with the house as soon as we saw it and the landlady, Mrs
Haygarth, was delighted that four ladies were renting her premises.  We moved
in at the end of October 1889 and Ruth and Diamond were more than relieved to
leave Mr Russell’s appalling lodgings.  Our life in Finsbury was going to be
wonderful, I was sure of it.  And with the production of Mozart’s
The Magic
Flute
about to start rehearsals, I felt happier.

I
thought of Karl less and less.  It was at night mostly, as I drifted off to
sleep that I remembered him.  I remembered the feel of his body close to mine,
his kisses on my lips and throat, his soft voice as he whispered tender words. 
And as time passed I realised that those words shouldn’t have been spoken,
since we were not together as lovers but for one specific purpose only. 
Sometimes I felt angry that he had aroused such passions in me and made me fall
in love with him.  It had been unkind of him to do so, but there again, perhaps
I deserved it.  Perhaps it was retribution for my own cruelty.  For although I
now had my heart’s desire, I knew that I had been selfish and unkind too. 
Somewhere in the world, there was a little girl who knew nothing of me.  This
knowledge would prove to be a testing time for me and one more step on the
painful road of knowing myself better. 

I was forced to
find shelter often, that rainy afternoon in February.  I was trying to make my
way to the toyshop, but the sudden downpours were catching me unawares.  It was
as though the weather was playing an amusing trick with spasmodic sunshine and
then a torrential deluge.  I finally reached the shop and went inside.  They
didn’t have what I wanted and directed me to a specialised shop in Oxford
Street.  Exhausted and soaked to the skin, I was glad to warm my hands by the
fire that burnt brightly at one end of the shop.  The assistant was already
serving a gentleman and I was happy to wait my turn.  When it came I asked for
a cricket bat and ball.

“The
bat is made of willow, madam, so is strong and hard wearing.  The ball is of
cork wrapped in leather.”

I
took the bat and balanced it in my hands.  “It seems so heavy.  My son will be
six next month, although he’s tall for his age.”

The
assistant seemed amused by my concern.  “He’ll be proud as Punch to receive a
real cricket bat and ball rather than a toy bat.  And he’ll get used to
handling it, mark my words.”

I
felt dubious.  “I’m not sure.  I wouldn’t want him to get hit by such a hard
ball.”

“That
depends on who the bowler is, madam,” he smiled.

“His
uncle.”

“Then
I’m sure the little lad’s uncle will take it easy when he bowls.”

I
nodded and agreed to make the purchase.  Danny had been begging me since
Christmas for a ‘proper’ bat and ball so that he and his uncle could play in
the park when the summer came and Gwilym was home on leave.  According to Nan,
he was travelling all round the world and seeing far away places that seemed so
strange and exotic.  I had bought an atlas and Danny and I would follow his
voyages.  Often he would travel to America, but many times he sailed to
Australia with passengers who wanted to settle in a new country.  And he was
there to attend to their medical needs.  Despite our rift, I still felt proud
of him.

Ruth
and Diamond now knew that my brother and I had fallen out, although I had never
told them the reason. How could I?  What would I tell them?  Diamond came from
a large family and knew about disagreements between siblings, but Ruth’s
brother had died from meningitis when he was only nineteen.  For her, the
argument between Gwilym and me was difficult to understand.  She had loved her
brother very much and still felt his loss keenly.  When she asked why I had
allowed the quarrel to continue for all these years, I had no answer for her. 
Her chocolate brown eyes flashed in anger and she told me sternly that it was
all very stupid and risky since the warring parties never knew if something
might happen to separate them forever.  I knew what she meant and I had to
agree with her.

With
the gift tucked under my arm I made my way to the tearooms where I was meeting
the girls.  I took a seat by the window and close to the fire, watching the
people hurrying by, umbrellas held aloft.  I ordered a pot of tea for myself
since I was frozen and needed some warmth inside me.  But as I sipped my drink,
the doorbell tinkled and two men came into the shop, one in his middle years
and round as a barrel, the other much younger, with hair of burnt copper.  I
frowned and although I didn’t want to stare, I was intrigued with the young man
who was talking animatedly to the older one.  They took a table not far from
mine and then I heard the young man laugh.  A wave of surprise swept through me
and then he turned his head and our eyes met. 

He
jumped to his feet and in a few strides he was at my table.  “Mrs Asquith? 
Well, goodness me.  It’s so nice to see you again.”  He kissed my hand and then
turned to the older gentleman.  “Mr Sullivan, come and meet my music teacher,
Mrs Asquith.”

I
invited them to take seats at my table and was introduced to Mr Arthur Sullivan
from the company of Gilbert and Sullivan.

“Francis
talks about you all the time,” he said, his round stomach wobbling with
laughter.  “He says it was you that encouraged him to sing.”

I shook
my head.  “Oh, no, Francis always had the enthusiasm.  I knew he’d make an
excellent tenor one day.”  I smiled at Francis Pelham, the child of thirteen
who had been one of my last pupils before my trip to France.  “Have you left
school already?”

“I’m not
eighteen until April, but I’ve made an agreement with my parents that if they
allow me to sing for twelve months, then I’ll go to university and then into
the family business.”

Mr
Sullivan chuckled.  “And of course, I’ll be trying to persuade them to let him
stay on the stage.”

I
felt stunned.  “You’re performing at The Savoy Theatre?”

Francis
nodded.  “I’m playing Nanki-Poo in
The Mikado
.”  The look of horror on
my face seemed to tickle him.  He turned to Mr Sullivan who had ordered a cream
cake and was tucking in with absolute pleasure.  “Mrs Asquith never agreed with
your works, sir.  She’s an advocate of high opera.”

“Nothing
wrong with the posh stuff,” said Mr Sullivan, through a mouthful of cake and
cream.  “As long as you don’t mind being bored to death.”

“That’s
not so,” I said.  “Grand opera is all important.  It’s what music should be.”

Mr
Sullivan waved his fork in the air.  “The most important thing about music is
that it’s enjoyed.  And it doesn’t matter if it’s an aria from Verdi or a song
from the music hall.  If it brings pleasure to the listener, then it’s
successful music.”

Francis
watched me with a half-smile, interested in my reply.

I
hesitated momentarily.  “Yes, all right, you could have a point there.  It’s
the pleasure that counts.”

“So,
what are you doing now, Mrs Asquith?” asked Francis, grinning.

“I’m
singing at Covent Garden.”

“Well
done.  Have you played any major parts yet?”

“No,
I’m in the chorus,” I said quietly.

“But
not for long, I’m sure,” said Francis kindly.  He turned to his companion. 
“Mrs Asquith has a beautiful voice.  You should hear her sing.”

“I’d
love to one day.  However, the trouble with Covent Garden is that it’s
difficult to make progress.  You could be in the chorus for the next five
years.”  I knew he was right and decided to stay silent.  He chuckled.  “I
think you’d make a wonderful Patience.”  He pretended seriousness.  “So, if I
offered you two complimentary tickets for next month’s production of
The
Mikado
, you’ll probably turn them down?”

“She’d
better not!” said a voice to my right.  I looked up to see Ruth and Diamond,
water dripping from their hats, glaring down at me.  “If she doesn’t want to
go, then we certainly do.”

I
introduced them and soon the five of us were squeezed round the table and more tea,
cakes and scones were ordered.

“Quite
cosy, isn’t it,” said Mr Sullivan, trying to extract his elbow from the folds
of Diamond’s coat. 

She
gave him a seductive smile.  “If you give us three tickets instead of two then
you can cosy up to me all you want.”

“Diamond!”
I said, feeling appalled.

“Three
tickets it is,” laughed Mr Sullivan.  “Give me your address and I’ll send them
immediately.

“What
about Nan?” asked Ruth.

I
shook my head.  “She’s not really bothered about the theatre.  She only goes to
keep me company.”

“It’ll
have to be a matinee performance,” said Ruth.  “It’s the only time we’re free.”

It
was a delightful afternoon tea and Mr Arthur Sullivan was a joy to be with.  By
the time we said our goodbyes, I had quite warmed to him.  And despite what
everyone thought, I was looking forward to seeing
The Mikado
and hearing
Francis sing. 

We caught a cab
to The Savoy Theatre that cold and windy afternoon in mid-March.  The blustery
weather lifted our capes and we had to hold onto our hats to stop them blowing
away.

“I
feel really naughty doing this,” I said.  “I hope Mr Perry doesn’t find out.”

“What
can he do about it,” scoffed Diamond.  “It’s in our own free time.”

“He’s
asked to see me tomorrow,” said Ruth quietly.  “I’ve been trying to think what
I’ve done to deserve a summons.”

I
squeezed her hand.  “Don’t worry about it.  You know what he’s like.  You
probably left your costume lying about and the wardrobe mistress has
complained.”

“I
always hang up my costume,” said Ruth indignantly.

Even
so, I was worried and when I glanced at Diamond I saw she was biting her lip.

To my
utter amazement, the production of
The Mikado
was wonderful and Francis
enchanted the audience.  When he sang
A Wandering Minstrel I
, I suddenly
remembered when I had first heard him sing it, it was on the day I met Karl for
out first luncheon together.  The memory brought a lump to my throat, but it
was just for an instant and then I was laughing with Ruth and Diamond at the
antics of the citizens of Titipu.

After
the performance, we went backstage and crowded round Francis in his dressing
room.  Mr Sullivan joined us.

“Well,
Mrs Asquith.  What do you think?”

I
looked down at the ground, feeling abashed.  “May we have some tickets for the
Pirates
of Penzance
please?”

The
dressing room erupted in laughter and I turned scarlet.

Laughter
and merriment continued outside and the three of us linked arms and danced down
the street singing
Three Little Maids from School
.  Mr Perry would have
been horrified if he had seen us, but we didn’t care.  My friends knew I was a
convert and we were happy.

We
had nearly reached the omnibus stop when we saw a few market stalls set up by
the side of the road and we stopped to take a look.  One was selling buttons
and ribbons, the other trinkets of jewellery.

“Want
to buy a bracelet or necklace, miss,” said the young girl looking after the
stall.

She
can’t have been more than nine and was wrapped up in what looked like three
shawls and a large bonnet far too big for her.

I
scanned the wares spread before me.  Nothing I saw was anything I would wear,
but then I spotted a small bracelet of pink shells.  I picked it up.

“How
much?”

“Only
fourpence, miss.”

Diamond
looked over my shoulder.  “Don’t buy it, Issy,” she said, wrinkling her nose. 
“It’s cheap and will probably fall apart in your hands.”

She
was right but somehow I was drawn to the pretty shells.  I glanced at the young
girl tending the stall.  She looked cold and her eyes were streaming with the
bitter wind that blew down the road.

“No,
I think I’ll have it.”  I fished into my purse and found the money.  The girl
grinned as she took it and handed me my purchase.

“You’ll
regret it,” smiled Diamond.

But I
didn’t think I would.