Songbird (33 page)

I
pointed to the room from where he had just come.  “In there?”

He
grinned and pulled back the covers, revealing my nakedness.  I blushed
slightly, but then he took his dressing gown and wrapped it round me.  Guiding
me towards the door, he led me into a room that was fully tiled and had a huge
iron bath against the wall, standing high on clawed feet.  Nearby, were
mahogany shelves holding bath salts, soap and fresh towels.  There was a
matching washstand with a basin and in the corner was a lavatory with a
mahogany seat.  I looked at him and his grin widened.  I watched as he turned
the large, brass bath tap and to my utter amazement, hot water came gushing
out, steam rising from it, filling it rapidly.

“But
where does the hot water come from?” I asked incredulously.

He
pointed to the metal pipe running from the bath and up the wall, to disappear
goodness knows where.  “Through those pipes, from a boiler in the basement. 
And another pipe takes the waste away.”  He kissed my neck.  “I’ll leave you to
bathe and when you’re finished, dinner should be here.  What would you like?”

“Oh,
anything,” I said, fiddling with the tap until I managed to turn it off.

I
used the lavatory and then jumped in the bath, squealing as I lowered myself
into the hot water.  It was wonderful and I will always remember the first time
that I bathed in an enormous metal tub with running water. 

Brett
knocked on the door.  “Dinner’s arrived if madam cares to join me.”

I
climbed out reluctantly and quickly dried myself.  Wrapping the dressing gown
round me, I walked barefoot through the bedroom and into the sitting room.  A
small table had been set with a plate of salmon and tureens of potato and
vegetables.

“I
should get dressed,” I said anxiously, looking down at the silk dressing gown
that was far too big for me.

Brett
held out his hand and drew me down on the couch.  “No, this is a very informal
meal.  You look lovely just as you are.”

He
passed me a plate and I noticed he was wearing only his trousers and a loosely
buttoned shirt still open at the neck.  I bit my lip as desire surged through
me again.  I really must control myself, I thought with amusement and then felt
amazed how potent love can be. 

Brett
piled food onto the plate and I couldn’t stop laughing.  “I’m only one person. 
How much do you think I can eat.”

“Tuck
in.  You look in need of a good meal.”

“Do
I?  I eat quite well.”

“Yes,
but I don’t want you fainting.”  I narrowed my eyes at him for reminding me. 
“Have some wine.” 

He
poured me a glass and I drank thirstily.

“What
time is it,” I asked casually.

“Gone
eight.”

I let
out a wail of distress.  “Holy Moses!  Nan and Diamond will think I’ve left
home.”

He
threw back his head and his laughter filled the room.  “It seems obnoxious
little Abigail had an influence on you too.”  He took a sip of his wine.  “I
hope we’ll be together like this many times?”

I
nodded slowly.  I knew what he was asking.  He wanted me to be his mistress. 
In the future, we would always have to meet like this, in the shadows, away
from society’s prying eyes.  But I wanted to be with him, even if it was for a
brief afternoon every couple of weeks.

The
meal was delicious and I felt very hungry.  Was it all the lovemaking that made
me feel ravenous?  Or was it that I felt so happy?  Yes, I thought, watching
Brett pour out more wine, I am happy.  Happy and contented and it made me want
to tell him everything.  That I was Emmeline Barri, the famous opera singer
from Covent Garden.  Why I needed his twelve hundred pounds; to follow my
dream, realise my ambition.  And I had been successful.  I felt my cheeks
flush.  Yes, I would tell him.  How surprised he would be.  We would laugh at
how much he disliked opera and I would insist on sending him complimentary
tickets for the opera of his choice.  Angelique would be there too, but that
wouldn’t trouble me.

I
placed my empty plate on the table and took in a shuddering breath.  My lips
parted expectantly.

“Darling,
I’ve decided to end my appalling marriage.”

His
words stunned me into paralysis.  “What do you mean?” I whispered.

He
shook his head.  “This incredible afternoon with you has proved to me that my
marriage is empty.  It’s an impossible situation and I intend asking Angelique
for a separation.”

“After
fifteen years!”

“The
length of time doesn’t matter.  I can’t carry on as I am.”

I
couldn’t hide my horror.  “But you mustn’t ask your wife to leave her home.”

He
leaned towards me and lightly brushed my cheek with his fingers.  “She’ll not
care.  She’ll go straight back to France and live with her parents.  She’s
never settled at Standford Park.  It’s never been her home.”

“What
about Emily?  Will she take her too?”

“No. 
I know beyond any doubt that she’ll leave the child behind.”  He moved closer
to me and took my hand.  “I want to be with you.  He frowned when he saw my distressed
face.  “What is it, my darling?  I thought you’d be happy.”

I
shook my head.  “How can I be happy.  You’re talking of ending your marriage.”

He
pulled me into his arms.  “I love you and I’ll not live my life without you.” 

Shock
made my meal turn on me and I felt sick.  I remained quiet, a sudden decision
entering my head. When I finally spoke it was clear and precise.

“I
can’t let you do that, Brett.  It’s cruel and unfeeling to a wife who doesn’t
deserve to be treated so abominably.”

“I
don’t love her,” he said angrily.  “You can’t ask me to stay in a marriage
that’s a sham.”

I put
my hands against his chest, trying to keep some distance between us.  “I’m
quite willing to be your mistress.  I want us to meet when you come to London
and spend afternoons together like the one we’ve just shared.”

His
expression softened.  “This afternoon has been truly wonderful, but I can’t
spend exquisite hours with you and then go back to a wife who is cold and
unfeeling.”

“Angelique
is cold?”

He
nodded.  “We’ve not slept in the same bed for over a year.  She told me that
her poor health prohibits her from a married life.”

“Does
the doctor agree?”

He
raised his eyebrows.  “I’ve not discussed it with the doctor.  Anyway, it
doesn’t matter.  If she says that’s the case then there’s nothing I can do
about it.  Not that I want to do anything about it.”  He stared at me with eyes
as black as coal.  “I’m not interested in sharing a bed with my wife.”

I
stared at him, desperation pouring from me.  “Please.  Please, Brett, don’t do
it.  I want to stay as we are.”

“But
I don’t.  I don’t want secret meetings with you.  I don’t want you making
excuses to your family when you slip away to see me.”

“No,
I beg you.  It would be wrong.”

He
held my arms in a painful grip.  “Don’t you understand.  I didn’t just want a
child with you.  I wanted you.”

“Brett,
please.  You’re hurting me!”  I struggled with him and my cry of distress
alarmed him.  He released me.  I rose slowly to my feet.  “I would have been
content for us to remain lovers,” I said, trying to control my breathing.  “I
didn’t want anyone hurt by our actions.”

“Angelique
won’t be hurt.  She’ll accept it as inevitable.”

He
rose to his feet also and I turned on him angrily.  “You don’t know that.  She
might be terribly distressed that you want to end your marriage.  Think of the
disgrace, the scandal.  Her health is delicate and this could destroy her
completely, even kill her.”

“You’re
being over dramatic.  Anyway, I don’t care about the disgrace and scandal. 
Eventually I’ll get a divorce and then you’ll be Viscountess Shelbrook.  I want
you to wear my wedding band on your finger.  I want you to be a proper mother
to our child and live at Standford Park with us.”  We stared at each other and
then he said softly, “Isabelle, your son needs a father.”

Instinctively,
my fingers went to the ring I already wore.  I caressed it gently, trying to
stem the tears that insisted on brimming over.  “I can’t be your wife.  I’m
sorry, my love is all I can give you.”

I
rushed for the bedroom and banged the door shut behind me.  I pulled on my
clothes and twisted my hair into a coil, my hands shaking as I pushed in the
pins.  When I finally went back into the sitting room he was standing by the
fireplace staring down into the flames.

“You’re
going home?” he asked quietly.

I
nodded.  “I must.  It’s late.”  I reached for my hat and coat.

He
straightened himself to his full height.  “Don’t go, Isabelle.  Please, I’m
begging you.  Don’t go, not like this.”

I
looked into eyes that were brilliant turquoise and yet full of anguish.  “I
should never have answered that damned advertisement.  We should never have
met.  Our relationship was wrong and wasn’t meant to be.”

“I
love you,” he whispered.

For
an instant his words propelled me towards him.  I reached up and gently traced
the tips of my fingers down his face.  “And I love you, but I’ve already done
enough damage for one lifetime.  I will not destroy your life, your wife’s…or
our daughter’s.” 

“Then
please let me take you home.  We can talk on the way.”

I
opened the door.  “I think it better if we don’t see each other again.”

I
left him standing motionless in the middle of the room.  The look of shock on
his face tore me apart.  But I couldn’t help his pain, my pain was more than I
could bear.

I found it
difficult to breathe as I took the cab home.  I kept swallowing and biting my
lip to force back bitter tears.  When I arrived, I paid the driver and went
into the house, trying to appear as normal as possible.

“Thought
you were going to stay out all night,” said Nan, laying her sewing to one
side.  “I saved you some dinner.”

“I’ve
already eaten.  Where’s Diamond?”

“Meeting
Victor’s family.”

“Oh,
good.  I’ll just pop upstairs and say goodnight to Danny.”

“Just
done that and he’s fast asleep.”  She looked at me with disapproving eyes. 
“You’re going to have to sort yourself out, Issy.”

“What
on earth do you mean?”

“Either
marry the man, or leave him be.  You can’t keep company with him all these
hours and then say you’ll not be his wife.  It’s unfair on him.”

I
realised she was talking about Andrew Perry.

“Oh,
it was all business, I assure you.”

She
shrugged and then seemed to dismiss Mr Perry from her mind in an instant. 
“Well, this afternoon Diamond and I put our heads together and drew up a list. 
The move from this house will be very smooth.  Do you think we should sell some
of the furniture?  The house in Ealing seems well furnished.”

“Yes,
we could do that.”

“Danny
is very excited.  But kids love moving house, don’t they.  It’s a new thing for
them.”

I
gave a half-smile and went upstairs to see my son.  He was fast asleep, his
cheek resting on his hand.  He looked so peaceful.  I stroked his hair back
from his face.  Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t agreed to move into the house in
Gibson Place and I let out a groan.  I should have sold it and let the past
go.  Now I would be sleeping in a room filled with memories.  But the decision
was made and there was no possibility of backing out now.

PART
THREE

THE
LADY OF THE FLOWERS

CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO

I
stared at Andrew in disbelief.

“I
don’t quite understand.  You want me to leave Covent Garden?”

He
gave a chuckle.  “I’m talking of introducing you to the rest of the country in
a comprehensive tour.  You’ll perform in various major cities and towns.  I
hope to get bookings in theatres, town halls, civic halls, guildhalls. 
Anywhere possible.”

“It
will mean travelling around a great deal.”

He
made himself more comfortable in the chair.  “Yes, it will get tiring, but it
will make your name,” he said quietly.  “I thought that we would cover the
south and midlands first, only going as far north as Birmingham.  And if that’s
successful then we’ll start on the northern counties the following year.”

“And
what would be in the programme?”  I was determined to ask as many questions as
possible before I made a decision.

“Anything
you wish.  Your favourite opera arias and folksongs from different countries. 
You can draw up your own programme.”

I
began to feel excited.  “Even songs from the country of my birth?  In Welsh?”

“In
any language that suits you,” he laughed.

I
looked towards the window where snowflakes were drifting past and settling on
the ledge.  We were in the dining room and spread out on the table, were
sheaves of paper outlining Andrew’s ideas for my debut into the concert world.

“May
I sing Gilbert and Sullivan?”

He
let out a loud groan.  “I thought you’d ask that.”

“Well?”

He
gave a sigh.  “If Mr Sullivan gives you permission then yes.”  He frowned at
me.  “But under sufferance.”  A few seconds of thoughtful silence followed. 
“So, what do you think?” he said, watching me.

“I
take it you’re going to be my manager?”

“Absolutely. 
I plan to turn the responsibility of the theatre over to someone else.”

“It
will be during the summer months?”

“March
to September.”

I
rested my elbows on the table and turned the idea over in my mind.  I would be
on a stage, but not playing a role in an opera.  I would be Miss Emmeline
Barri, wearing an evening gown and choosing my own repertoire.  But more than
that I would be away from London, away from a house that had driven me insane
since the spring.  It had been a melancholy nine months. 

I
caught my breath with excitement.  “Can Martha come as my personal maid?”

“Yes,
of course.”

Suddenly,
I thought of Danny.  “Oh dear, what about my son?  I can’t leave him for six
months.  Besides, he’s starting at The Hall in September.”  I had finally
succumbed to his insistence that he wanted to attend school and at ten years
old, he would become a day pupil.

“Why
don’t you bring him with us?  If his governess is willing to carry on his
education while on tour, then all the better.” 

This
pleased me and I smiled.  “I will have to make plans about this house too.  But
Nan and Diamond can manage very well without me.”

Andrew
sat back in his chair.  “And now the royalties for this tour.  You will be top
of the bill and I’ll be expecting you to earn the top wage.  It all depends on
my negotiations with the host theatre, of course, but I believe you’ll be
earning in the region of fifty pounds per night.  I won’t accept less.”

I
felt stunned.  “As much as that?”

“Yes. 
So, if you play for four nights in a major city, then I’ll expect you to
receive at least two hundred pounds for your efforts.”

“I
didn’t realise it would be so much.”

He pursed
his lips.  “Jenny Lind earned over eighty thousand pounds when she did a nine
month tour in the States.  And that was during the fifties.”

“I’m
not Jenny Lind,” I said, suddenly feeling afraid.

“No,
you’re much better, so I see no reason why you shouldn’t be more successful.”

“You
seem to have a great deal of faith in me.”

He
reached across and took my hand.  “I could see your potential the moment I set
eyes on you.”

I
gave him a half-smile and wondered if he meant as an opera singer or a future
wife.

Miss Rupp was
ecstatic.

“Oh,
Mrs Asquith, how wonderful!  I’ll do research on every place we visit and find
out what famous people lived there and how and why the town came about.  Your
son will have an extensive education and it will round off everything I’ve
taught him before he attends preparatory school.”

I had
an afterthought.  “Would you also be willing to take him to Claythorpe House? 
I know it means more travelling, but he’ll want to visit Pegasus in the spring
and summer and I’ll be too busy to take him now.”  I had taken Danny to
Claythorpe House the previous summer and spent a week on the estate, watching
him learn to ride and on a very hot day, learn to swim, an activity my son had
picked up very quickly, much to my relief.  It had been a restful week but had
not eased my heartache one bit. 

Miss
Rupp nodded enthusiastically.  “If I’m welcome there, then certainly.”

I
frowned at her odd remark.  “Why shouldn’t you be welcome?”

Miss
Rupp looked at me over her spectacles.  “I’m a governess, ma’am.  Too high for
the servants’ hall and too low for the family drawing room.”

“Oh,
nonsense.”

“It’s
the truth, but I’ve learnt to live with it.”

And so plans
were underway and Andrew’s frantic pace seemed to increase.  I didn’t think
that was possible, but handing over the running of the theatre, organising the
cast and arranging my bookings was taking up all his time.

Don
Giovanni
would close in the middle of February and then my first concert would be four
weeks later.  I would open in Birmingham, since Andrew thought it better to
make the longest journey first and then zigzag our way down the country back to
London.  It was an excellent scheme especially since we would be in Birmingham
for four nights, staying at the Imperial Hotel.  Then would come a series of
some thirty towns and cities, before reaching the south coast.  The summer
would be taken up with coastal towns amongst others, Plymouth, Bournemouth and
Brighton.  I wondered if these towns and cities would become a blur as I moved
from one to the other.  It was an insight that would turn out to be all too
true. 

My
life had settled down in Ealing but I missed Brett with a yearning that
bordered on pain.  And sleeping in the same room, the same bed we had shared
hadn’t helped matters.  I could feel him next to me and I would dream of his
touch, his kisses.  Often I would wake in the night crying into my pillow.  I
tried to write to him, but my emotions and thoughts were torn to shreds.  I
tried not to think of my daughter.

Diamond
had been a resounding success in
The Mikado
and had continued so during
the next twelve months in every operetta she was in.  Her romance with Victor
had blossomed and plans were being made for an autumn wedding.  On the surface,
it seemed that everyone’s dreams had come true. 

It was always
sad when a production closed but the final performance of
Don Giovanni
was especially poignant.  Of course, Andrew had advertised my imminent
departure on a poster in the foyer of the theatre, but when he made the final
announcement before the curtain went up, a soft sigh reverberated round the
auditorium, that I found very touching.  And after the curtain-call, I was
presented with a huge bouquet of flowers and the kind of applause that would
have amazed me five years before.  Now I was getting used to it and I looked
forward to the tour as a new start, a fresh challenge.

Martha
fastened the gown I had chosen to wear for the farewell party at The Savoy
Hotel.  She pinned the feathers in my hair and spread the fur cape over my
shoulders.  It was obvious her mind was on the tour. 

“I’ve
heard from the dressmakers,” she said.  “Your new wardrobe will be completed in
two weeks’ time.  Oh, Miss Barri, I will make you so lovely when you step on
that stage that the audience will fall in love with you straight away.”

I
nodded in satisfaction.  “I do hope so,” I said, laughing.  “Because it will be
the real
me
out there and not me hiding behind a role I’m playing.”

I had
been measured and fitted for a variety of gowns that I would wear for my
concerts.  Martha was as excited as I about the tour and had diligently helped
me shop and advised me on what I would need in the way of accessories; silk
flowers and feathers for my hair, a few small hats and some pretty silk shawls
along with fans and parasols.

The
party was wonderful and everyone was there, including Nan and Diamond and my
son who would celebrate his tenth birthday before we left on tour. 

Andrew
put his hand on my arm.  “Covent Garden is going to miss you.”

“I’m
going to miss Covent Garden.”

“Are
you ready for your big adventure?”

“Yes,
but I hope you won’t become a nuisance and start proposing again.”

He
grimaced as he filled my glass with champagne.  “I’ll try to keep it to a
minimum.  Would once a week be too often?”

“Far
too often.”

He
smiled softly.  “Well, let’s wait and see, shall we.”

I
grunted and then took a sip of my drink, watching him over the rim of the
glass.  He was an attractive man, there was no doubt about that.  But I didn’t
love him.  And despite his assertions that I would grow to love him, I knew
that would never happen.  My heart was with another.

It
was only one month before we set off for Birmingham.  I was to play at two
venues for two nights each and I had decided on the programme, a mixture of
ballads, folksongs and arias.  I had asked Miss Rupp if she would do some
research for me and discover what songs were particular to that area.  I
thought it would delight the audience and make them more responsive, if I
included some local melodies in the programme.  As was typical of Miss Rupp,
she threw herself into the task with enthusiasm.  Andrew had done marvels in
organising everything, but as the time crept nearer I began to have twinges of
doubt.  We would be travelling a great deal and I worried that Danny would find
it exhausting.  I worried that I might find it exhausting.

Letters
had passed between Eloise and I and it was finally agreed that Danny and Miss
Rupp would visit Claythorpe House in May as well as August.  After the summer
visit, Miss Rupp would then take him back to London to prepare for starting at
The Hall.  And no matter where I was I would see him settled on his first day
at school, even if it meant breaking from the tour for a while.

Letters
from Ruth and Gwilym were intermittent.  It seemed the Dorothy-May had been en
route to South Africa and had sustained some damage.  They had limped into Cape
Town for repairs.  But when these repairs were completed they were then heading
back to England.  They hoped to be home by June if not July and then they would
settle down in England.  I was elated.  When my tour ended, we would all be
together for Christmas.

The
following weeks were spent shopping and packing.  I tried to write numerous
letters to Brett but they didn’t get as far as the pillar-box.  I imagined him
waiting for the post that didn’t arrive and my heart ached for him.  But I
hadn’t the courage to send him what I had written and my mundane and clumsy
words ended up as fuel for the fire.

Nan and Diamond
saw us off at King’s Cross Station and as their figures faded into the
distance, I sat back in my seat and felt relieved that I was travelling away
from my sorrows.  Because of the long journey, we had been advised to take
seats in the dining car as only the guard was allowed to pass between the
carriages and always locked the interconnecting doors after him.  I allowed
Danny to wander down the aisle and stretch his legs, reminding him not to
disturb any of the other passengers.  I turned my attention to Miss Rupp and
Martha who seemed to be getting on very well as they chatted away.  Andrew
became absorbed in his newspaper.  I looked out of the window.  It would take
about five or six hours to reach Birmingham, but tea and coffee would be served
to us as well as luncheon.  Andrew’s organisation had been impeccable.

After
an hour, he stood and stretched.  “I think I’ll just wander down to the far end
and enjoy a cigar, if you don’t mind,” he said nonchalantly.

Miss
Rupp looked up.  “Would you mind if I joined you, sir?”

Martha
and I exchanged horrified glances.

“Of
course you may,” he stuttered.  “You smoke?”

“Yes,
although cigarettes not cigars.”  She rose to her feet and collected a small
silver chain bag, whispering conspiratorially,  “But please don’t tell my
mother.  She abhors cigarettes.”

We
watched them leave with shocked expressions.