Forgotten Dreams (34 page)
Letting herself in through the front door and heading for the kitchen, Lottie smiled to herself. Merle was always nagging at her to get herself a boyfriend, so that they could go around in a foursome. If she knew Lottie’s mysterious friend was Jack Russell, she’d likely die laughing; but at least it might stop her nagging.
The family were in the kitchen, Merle laying the table, Max slicing bread and Baz buttering it, whilst Louella was rather inexpertly carving a cold leg of mutton. Lottie guessed that they had had it roast at dinnertime, but thought her own meal to have been infinitely superior: she was not a lover of mutton. Everyone looked up as she came in and Lottie braced herself for questions or reproaches, but Louella had clearly forgotten her grievance of last night. ‘Hello, darling,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Did you have a nice day? I’ve booked the stage for tomorrow afternoon and Tuesday morning, so we can all have a lie-in, and Merle’s bought her return ticket to Blackpool, so she can leave on Wednesday or Thursday, whichever suits her best.’
‘Wharrabout me?’ Baz said, but he was smiling. ‘I’d rather she went Wednesday, ’cos I’m off for the whole of that week, Wednesday to Wednesday. I’ve not had time to buy myself a return ticket but I’ll do it as soon as Merle makes up her mind when she’s leaving. And then I’m hoping I’ll pay a good deal less than a normal passenger. Gee, I’m looking forward to visitin’ a circus as one o’ the family, you might say. Merle reckons they’ll show me all sorts, even let me ride one of the liberty horses, only she’ll have to have me on a lead rein, ’cos they’re valuable, them animals.’
‘You can’t ride,’ Lottie pointed out practically, fetching the plates from the Welsh dresser so that Louella could carve a helping straight on to each one. ‘Still, I’m glad you’re going, Baz, even if it does leave me in the lurch.’
Max looked up, having cut the entire loaf into beautifully even slices. ‘There won’t be much point in you and Lou rehearsing once Merle goes,’ he said. ‘So you’ll have some time to yourself for once, queen. Do you good.’
Lottie agreed that this was so, but when the meal was over and she and Merle were getting ready for bed in their own room, she told Merle she would miss her horribly and had no idea how she would spend the next couple of weeks.
‘You could go out with your new feller,’ Merle said slyly, and then burst out laughing at Lottie’s hunted look. ‘It’s all right, queen, I know it were only Jack Russell. Baz and meself went out for a bit of jolly – that’s to say we took two seats on the overhead railway – and as we were climbin’ aboard we saw you and Jack gettin’ off. I waved like fun but the pair of you had your heads together and were chattering away, so you never saw me. Were you with him all day, or did you meet someone else later?’
Merle was already in her nightdress, sitting up in bed and staring interestedly across at her young friend. Beside her their bedtime candle burned in its holder, and Lottie realised that Merle was in the mood for a chat. Hastily she donned her own nightie and climbed into bed. ‘I were with Jack all day,’ she said. ‘He told me quite a lot about my dad – Louella never mentions him, you know – and quite a lot about Louella, too. Did you know the three of them met for the first time right here, in the Gaiety? She was awfully young and pretty, Jack said; well, she was only seventeen when I was born. I reckon, from what he told me, Jack had hopes in that direction himself, but Alf was a magician, and he needed an assistant who would look good in tights and sequined bust bodices. He employed Louella and then asked her to marry him, so I suppose Jack had to look elsewhere. I felt really sorry for him, but you know how he is: he made a joke of it.’
Merle’s head bobbed in assent and her shadow, huge and flickering in the candlelight, nodded too. ‘Yes, Jack don’t wear his heart on his sleeve,’ she observed. ‘What else did he tell you?’
Lottie related the story so far as she knew it herself and added Jack’s theory that after Alf’s death Louella had been unable to face returning to a place where she had once been so idyllically happy.
Merle nodded wisely. ‘Yes, of course. It weren’t just that everyone in the theatre had known her and Alf as a couple, it would be the theatre itself. Oh, your poor mam! She must have been dreadfully unhappy, but at least she had you.’ She gave Lottie a quick, almost furtive glance which, in the flickering candlelight, was difficult to interpret. ‘Though for meself, I’d say a baby weren’t so much company as an extra responsibility.’
‘You’re right there. I’d rather have a puppy any day,’ Lottie agreed. She leaned over and snuffed the candle wick between a wetted thumb and forefinger. ‘Night-night, Merle, sleep tight.’
Chapter TwelveLottie had expected to miss Baz and Merle horribly, but instead she found herself almost enjoying her independence. There were a number of things she had always meant to do, but had somehow never got round to, and she found that though she missed Merle there was a good deal of satisfaction to be gained from doing what she wanted, when she wanted, without having to consult anyone else. Furthermore, fond though she was of Merle, it had to be admitted that her friend was almost always late for whatever outing they planned. Merle’s appearance was important to her and she could – and did – spend ages in front of the mirror, combing her hair into different styles, trying on different combinations of clothing, or even running through her entire stock of shoes before choosing which pair to wear. So, though Lottie told herself, rather guiltily, that it would have been fun to go around with Merle, she knew she would not have had time to do all the things she wanted to do.
On the first day of Merle’s absence, Lottie caught the ferry to New Brighton, and though the funfair was closed and the amusements shuttered she enjoyed exploring the town, having a fish and chip dinner at a café on the promenade, and then wandering for miles along the hard, wet sand. Mindful of what Jack had told her about the Denham family, she then spent three or four days exploring the Wirral by bus, intrigued by the pretty villages and the gently rolling countryside. She went to the city of Chester twice and, greatly daring, introduced herself to a young lady on the haberdashery counter in Brown’s whom she had heard another shop assistant call Miss Denham.
Lottie hung around by the haberdashery counter until the young woman was free, when she went shyly forward, asked to see some lengths of scarlet ribbon and finally plucked up her courage to put the only question which seemed appropriate. ‘My name is Lottie Denham. My father was Alf Denham, but he was killed when I was only a baby, so I never knew him. I know he came from the Wirral . . . I wonder whether you and I might be related?’
The young woman looked pleased. ‘I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning an Alf Denham,’ she said. ‘But of course if he died when you were born I’d only have been a kid myself at the time and probably wouldn’t remember. I’ve heaps of relatives, mostly cousins, and of course not all of them are Denhams since my grandparents had seven daughters and only two sons. What did your father do? Most of our family farmed.’
‘Alf joined the theatre as a magician . . .’ Lottie was beginning when a tall stout woman, with upswept grey hair and a large, curved nose, interrupted.
‘Miss Denham, if your customer does not care for any of those ribbons, perhaps you might attend to somebody else; we do have other customers, you know.’
The girl murmured an apology, her cheeks scarlet, but managed to mutter to Lottie as she began to replace the ribbons in their drawer beneath the counter that she would be taking her lunch break in thirty minutes and would go to the Kardomah café and await Lottie there.
Lottie went, full of delighted anticipation, but when the two girls parted she was no wiser. Miss Denham admitted she had never heard of Alf, and frankly doubted whether any member of her family could possibly have become a magician. ‘It sounds great fun and the sort of thing that would have been talked about, but to own the truth, Miss Denham, my relatives are a very ordinary lot. Still, if you’ll give me your address, I’ll drop you a line if I find out anything.’
Lottie was disappointed but told her that she herself was on the stage and had taken the name Lottie Lacey. ‘It would be nice to keep in touch, for I’m sure we must be related, even if we’re only second or third cousins,’ she said. ‘Do you ever visit Liverpool? If so, come along to the Gaiety theatre – to the stage door, I mean – and ask to see me and I’ll get you complimentary tickets for the show.’
The two girls parted and Lottie thought rather sadly that nice though Miss Denham had been, she doubted whether she would keep in touch. From the other girl’s conversation, it was clear that the Denhams were an enormous family, scattered all over the world, and fond of one another’s company. There was always something happening – a wedding, a christening or a funeral – and visits between different branches of the family were commonplace. With so many cousins, aunts and uncles, she thought it doubtful that her new friend would be particularly interested in acquiring another relative, but comforted herself with the thought that at least she had done her best. Unfortunately, she had not asked Miss Denham for her Christian name, nor for her address, so the first move would have to come from her.
Lottie had visited Chester on the day that Merle and Baz returned from Blackpool, which was a bit of luck because normally Louella asked her about her day and Lottie did not wish her mother to know that she had been trying to trace her father’s family. However, Baz and Merle swept in just as the evening meal was being served, Baz in particular full of the events of the past week. ‘I’ve never thought much of the stage, as you know,’ he said, reaching for the bread and butter, eyes sparkling. ‘But a circus! There’s a hundred different jobs you can do, mostly looking after the animals, which means you’d be working out of doors. I only decided on the railways because it meant I wouldn’t be shut up in an office or a shop or a factory, but so far I’ve been stuck in Lime Street station, which is just like a huge factory really. Every time a job comes up in a country station, I think about putting in for it, only mostly they’re miles away, which would mean livin’ in lodgings, and that would cut down on me savings as well as meaning I couldn’t see my Merle every day.’
‘Thank you, kind sir,’ Merle said, dimpling at him. ‘But if you worked with the circus, you wouldn’t be able to see me every day either, because I’ve no intention of going back to that sort of life. I know circus folk mostly go into digs during the winter and stay in one spot if they possibly can, but for the rest of the year they’re on the road, living in caravans, performing in a different village every two or three days; then at night they pull down and travel on to the next field, or village green, or whatever.’ She shuddered expressively. ‘And you hardly ever see a decent shop and most of the food is fried, which is murder for me waistline . . .’
Max laughed. ‘We all eat too much in the winter; it’s something to do with stoking up so that we can withstand the cold,’ he said, then turned to his son. ‘What exactly were you thinking of doing in the circus? As you know, both myself and Louella worked in circuses at one time, and very happy we were. But there’s no denying that you get better paid and have an easier life in the theatre, as well as being able to live in your own home. Oh, I know we go into digs during the summer season, but at the back of your mind there’s the comfortable knowledge that you do have a place of your own waiting for you.’
Louella smiled at Max across the table. ‘Pass me the salt, chuck,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to spoil your fun, dears, but now Merle’s back I think we ought to have one proper rehearsal before the theatre opens to the public on Monday. Does Friday suit everyone? We can start the rehearsal at nine in the morning and be through by lunchtime.’
Merle looked sulky. ‘But management have called a full dress rehearsal on Saturday, for every member of the cast and all the backroom people,’ she pointed out. ‘Surely that will be rehearsal enough? Baz and I have had a pretty hectic week; I wouldn’t mind a couple of quiet days before Saturday.’ She turned appealing eyes on Lottie. ‘Don’t you agree, queen? I’m sure you must know all the new numbers by heart, same as I do.’
Lottie did agree but knew it would be pointless to say so. When Louella tightened her lips like that, it meant she had already made up her mind. Still, there was no harm in trying. ‘It does seem a bit much, Louella,’ she said mildly. ‘After all, management give us these two weeks so we can have a winter break.’
Louella snorted. ‘What’s wrong with honing our act to perfection?’ she asked, then leaned over and slapped Max’s hand chidingly when he laughed. ‘It’s all very well for you, Max, most of your act is silent, but we have six new songs to do as well as a variety of dance steps.’ She turned her most ingratiating smile upon Merle. ‘Tell you what, poppet, suppose we start at nine, and work until half past ten; would that suit you?’
Mollified, Merle said that that would be fine and Lottie could not help chuckling to herself. How cunning Louella was! She must have booked the stage already, had probably fully intended to rehearse for only an hour and a half, but because she must have guessed that the girls would object she had suggested a full morning’s work and had pretended to allow herself to be persuaded into the shorter session.
And on Friday, when the rehearsal was over and she and Merle had cleaned off their makeup and changed into street clothes, Lottie admitted to her friend that Louella had been right. They had not forgotten any of the songs, or the dances, but their timing was not what it had been. At the beginning of the rehearsal the act had been ragged, but after an hour and a half of concentrated effort it was running as smoothly as a well-wound watch, and all three of them felt better knowing they would have nothing to be ashamed of at the dress rehearsal next day. Even more satisfying was the fact that others had booked the stage to rehearse after the Lacey Sisters, and had applauded spontaneously as the girls left the stage.
Other books
QuarterLifeFling by Clare Murray
In Her Own Right : The Life of Elizabeth Cady Stanton by Elisabeth Griffith
A Crazy Day with Cobras by Mary Pope Osborne
Blink & Caution by Tim Wynne-Jones
Blind Trust by Jody Klaire
Men at Arms by Terry Pratchett
Can't Be Satisfied by Robert Gordon
Alpha Battle by Marquaylla Lorette
All About Passion by Stephanie Laurens
