Vintage Love (161 page)

She often met Moll and together they made trips to every part of the city. She became very fond of the beggar girl who lived by her wits in spite of her dubious profession. Sometimes Silas Hodder would join them and they would have fish and chips at a favorite place of his.

Fanny’s life was settling down to a comfortable routine, it seemed. But it was not to last. In the first week in November Gilbert introduced a new attraction called “The Mechanical Man”. It was a metal man seated on a large box and when a switch was turned the man lifted up its hand and removed its blue top hat; the hat was then returned to place and the man’s eyes moved in a most interesting fashion.

The new device was to be installed on the other side of the Fat Lady and she much resented it. Privately she told Fanny, “It’s a fraud! And Tingley has always tried to avoid such fakery before! I’m shocked by this! You know, there’s a dwarf hidden in the box at the bottom. It is he who manipulates the metal man with wires and levers! Mechanical Man, indeed!”

But Gilbert Tingley found the new addition attracted some extra business so he was enthusiastic about it. Fanny did not pay much attention to it until one evening after the museum closed she saw a new operator make his way out of the door at the back of the box. She thought she would faint. It was none other than the ugly little Snipe, whom she’d seen help his partner, Martin, in the murder of a man her first night in London!

She had come down from her platform and was standing with the Fat Woman. She pretended not to notice Snipe and hoped he wouldn’t recognize her. But she saw in a moment that he had. He stared at her hard and then turned away, pretending indifference. She had not been deceived by this and began to worry about whether he was living in the house.

Gilbert Tingley came by on his closing rounds and nodded pleasantly to her and the Fat Woman. “Good evening, ladies,” he said.

Fanny took advantage of the moment to step up to him and ask, “This new dwarf! The one operating the mechanical man! I’m sure I’ve seen him before. I believe him to be a criminal!”

Tingley’s mustache twitched and his mild face showed surprise. “I think you must be mistaken, my dear. His name is Snipe and he seems very good at the task assigned him. Dwarfs are not easy to come by, you know!”

Upset, she said, “I saw him and another man attack a gentleman on his doorstep one night. I’m sure they killed him. Snipe knows I’m a witness and I fear he may do me harm. Is he going to live here?”

“Yes,” Tingley said. “But I’m certain you must have made an error. Snipe is a mild little man. Reserved, but not a criminal type.”

Fanny suspected he was arguing on the dwarf’s behalf because he’d hired him cheaply and wanted to keep him on. She worried, “How can I protect myself?”

“I am always here,” Gilbert Tingley told her. “If the chap bothers you, come to me. Keep the bolt closed on your bedroom door at night and think no more about him.”

She tried to follow her employer’s advice but it did not work well. Snipe was around a good deal and while he avoided her company he made her fearful. When Moll came by she told her about her problem.

Moll wrinkled her brow and said. “I’ll ask Mister Hodder what he thinks you ought to do.”

“I wish you would,” Fanny said. Silas Hodder had not been around to see her often of late. She missed his good advice.

But before Silas put in an appearance two frightening things happened. One evening the other murderer, Martin, came to visit the freak show. He spent a long time standing staring up at her with a grim look on his coarse face. By the time he moved on she was a nervous wreck. She knew he had come at Snipe’s request to check on her and make sure she was the one whom they had pursued to the cemetery that night.

His visit increased her terror. She was afraid to leave the emporium even on her free mornings. When Moll came over she stayed in her room and talked of her desperate situation.

Moll said, “Silas is trying to find you another post to get you away from here. In the meanwhile, he says you must stay away from the dwarf.”

“No fear of my not doing that,” Fanny exclaimed in disgust. “But will that Snipe leave me alone?”

“He’s a wicked little creature and no mistake about it,” Moll agreed. “I should say you’ll have to depend on Gilbert Tingley.”

The Fat Woman had a poor opinion of Tingley’s prowess as a protector. When Fanny mentioned him in this role, the woman’s many chins wobbled with annoyance. “Tingley spends most of his time boozing in the office. Don’t count on him for anything!”

Fanny was astounded. “Is he a secret drinker?”

“It’s no secret to us who know him well,” the Fat Woman said indignantly. “That’s where most of the show’s profits goes. He spends more than he should on drink and then blames us for not drawing more crowds. I knew that Mechanical Man would bring trouble. But I didn’t think anyone so nasty would come along as that new dwarf!”

Fanny’s terror was becoming acute. She felt she must make some change whether Silas Hodder was able to find her another job or not. Twice she passed the little dwarf in the dark corridor on her floor and each time he had glared at her malevolently but said nothing. At mealtimes he sat at the end of the table a distance from her but she was always aware of his menacing presence.

Several nights later after she’d gone to bed Fanny fancied she heard someone try the latch of her bedroom door. But the bolt held securely though it gave her only a modest feeling of relief. In her unhappy plight it was inevitable that she thought of Brenmoor once again and of George. She began to fantasize that he would appear at the emporium some evening and take her away with him.

The climax came one stormy night in late November. Rain beat down in torrents and the wind howled at the single window of her room. She lay awake because of the storm and all her fears assailed her in the near darkness of the cramped area. She closed her eyes in an effort to make sleep come, trying to ignore the sounds of the angry storm.

Then her whole body tensed as she heard something else. A new and strange sound, as if someone were scraping at the window. She sat up in bed and stared across in time to see a figure dangling from a rope by her window. It was the dwarf, Snipe, who had let himself down from the roof on a rope and was now in the process of opening her window. He had clearly chosen this night so the sounds of the storm would cover his evil actions.

She screamed and leaped out of bed just as he managed to raise the sash. The rain beat in as his small feet sought the window ledge while he clung to the rope with one hand and flourished a knife in the other. The gleam of satisfaction on his monstrous face showed his intent.

Screaming again she looked around wildly for something to protect herself with. The only thing she saw was an ancient broom. She seized this and holding it by the straw end plunged the wooden handle into the dwarf’s body as he stood on the window ledge. He uttered a cry of pain and fear and she quickly rammed him again with the broom. He lost his balance and grabbed wildly for the rope as she prodded him with all her strength yet another time.

Snipe was screaming now. He missed grasping the swaying rope and toppled back to vanish into the dark and rainy night. The rope swayed back and forth before her open window, mute evidence of the drama which had taken place. Without bothering to close the window despite the rain which was now flooding her room she ran to the door and unbolted it, heading to Gilbert Tingley’s office for help!

As the Fat Lady had predicted, Tingley was not only asleep in his swivel chair but muddled by drink. The appearance of a hysterical and drenched Fanny soon brought him around. He went back to her room and saw that her story was not fantasy. Then he closed the window and he and a worker went out to see if Snipe had survived his fall.

Fanny was not surprised to learn that he hadn’t. Snipe had most effectively broken his neck. The event caused a sensation among the freak show people and led to the retiring of the Mechanical Man as an attraction.

A police official who investigated the dwarf’s death confirmed all her fears. The elderly man from Bow Street told her, “We’ve been looking for this little chap for months! He and a dangerous oaf named Martin are wanted for murder.”

“I was there the night it happened,” she said. “I saw them do it.”

“That’s likely why Snipe tried to get into your room and finish you off,” the police official said sagely.

“I’m sure it was. And there’s Martin still at large!”

The constable said, “I know. But I wouldn’t worry about him too much. We feel he’s left London. And if that’s the truth you are relatively safe.”

Fanny gave a small shudder. “I don’t think I shall ever feel safe here again!”

And this was the truth. Memory of what had happened and the fact that Martin knew where to find her, tormented her. She spent all her working hours in the show fearful that any moment the ruffian would appear and try to murder her. She felt so strongly about this she sent Silas Hodder an urgent message by way of Moll.

Silas proved he was still her staunch friend. A few nights later he came to see her just as the show was closing and brought another gentleman with him. This neat man in his worn but well-cut brown frock coat and trousers was much in contrast to the shabby gaunt-featured Silas with his long, unruly gray hair.

Silas introduced him, “This is Mister Barnaby Samuels, of the Samuels Repertory Company. He is about to launch a theatrical tour and by a strange stroke of luck he is in need of a young woman to play principal parts.”

Barnaby Samuels bowed to her. “Silas has praised you highly, Miss Hastings. I would like to hear you recite a little if you will.”

Fanny, taken by surprise but nevertheless eager, said, “I shall do a poem which appeared in the daily paper a while ago, if I may. It is about a little match girl.”

“Go ahead,” the courteous actor-manager said. He had thinning, white hair and a noble face which had been refined by time. Still, he had the air of an actor and she was sure he’d once been a leading man and was now probably a competent character actor and director.

She nervously ran through the poem standing beside her platform on which her fish tail reposed. The Fat Lady and her thin husband had lingered to listen, and gave her loud applause.

“Now there is true talent,” the Fat Lady said emotionally.

“Without a doubt!” her husband echoed.

Silas Hodder turned to the actor-manager in triumph and asked, “Well, what do you think?”

“She will do,” Barnaby Samuels said in his superior way.

“
Do!
” Silas said with scorn. “She has the makings of a star!”

“Perhaps. It will take much time and training to learn that,” Barnaby Samuels said. Addressing himself to her, he asked, “Can you leave here and join my company on Monday night? We are taking the evening run of the London-Liverpool Railway Train. We shall stop at our first destination, the town of Rigby. I can offer you good parts and my personal help, plus your expenses and a percentage of the company’s profits in which all the cast share equally.”

Fanny didn’t need to think about it. “I can join you,” she said. “I’m certain that will give Mr. Tingley time to find another mermaid.”

As a matter of fact he didn’t even have to look for a replacement. Moll had become so enchanted with the freak show people and their way of life that she decided to abandon begging and offered herself for Fanny’s replacement. In no time at all she was being fitted into the gorgeous, scaly fishtail.

Fanny’s parting from the company was an emotional one. Gilbert Tingley held a special dinner for the occasion on Sunday night. He even went so far as to substitute gin for the usual ale provided. As a result there was much weeping, a great many predictions of a bright future for her, and a touching speech delivered by Tingley himself.

Moll was at the table as a new member of the show and Silas Hodder sat at Fanny’s side as an honored guest. Everyone heard the freak show owner through with polite silence and when he finally raised his glass and said, “A toast! To Fanny Hastings and her good fortune!” everyone lifted his glass and drank. Then they clustered around her, the women embracing her and the men shaking her hand. It was a truly gala event.

Fanny had been instructed to meet the actor-manager and his company at the railway station, where he had promised he would have a ticket for her. She was all excitement at the prospect of really starting her acting career. No longer would she have to sit silent and immobile on a platform wearing a fishtail while people stared and commented. Now she would be playing real characters on a stage!

Fanny had yet to learn that Barnaby Samuels, although basically honest, had been having a run of bad luck. Several times lately his companies had been stranded in remote villages. And on his return to London he had only barely managed to scrape enough cash together to get a company started on the road, but no extra capital to sustain it through bad weeks of business. That was why he was paying his company on a percentage instead of a salary basis and why he had been so quick to hire her, since she was inexperienced and could not ask for a guarantee.

Silas Hodder had no knowledge of the precarious state of the actor-manager’s finances and thought he had provided his protegée with a great opportunity. He was so proud of what he’d done that he insisted on hiring a hackney cab, picking her up at the Emporium of Wonders and taking her to the railway station.

“You have become like a daughter to me,” the strange old man confided as they rode through the busy streets to their destination.

She said, “I’m ever so grateful to you! I shall try to merit your confidence by becoming a great actress.”

“I’m sure that you will,” the happy Silas said.

“But I shall worry about you. You won’t have Moll to look after you. Are you going to go on sleeping in that tomb?”

“I’m thinking of securing more normal quarters,” Silas confided. “You remember the bakery where I take my meals?”

“Yes.”

“They have a small storage room which is not always in use,” he said. “I have reason to believe I may soon be able to sleep there. It is bound to be warm in even the coldest weather.”