Hettie of Hope Street (14 page)

‘Well, Hettie, will you take the part?'

Eagerly, Hettie nodded her head, not daring to trust herself to be able to make any kind of lucid speech.

‘Excellent. Since rehearsals have already started you will need to work especially hard, I'm afraid, to catch up. Your wages will be seven shillings and sixpence per week.'

Hettie's eyes rounded. ‘Are you sure that isn't too much?' she whispered anxiously.

Jay was laughing again. ‘You are certainly a one-off, Hettie. I don't think I have ever been asked before if I am paying someone too much! Why don't you go back down to the theatre and watch
what's left of the rehearsal? Eddie Ormond, who brought you up here to me, will be waiting for you. He will take you down to our director who will talk to you about your part and arrange for you to have any extra coaching he may think you need, so that you can catch up with the rest of the cast.'

She felt as though she were literally floating on air, and not walking on a piece of worn drugget, as Jay Dalhousie opened the door for her to leave.

How amusing that Hettie had suspected him of wanting to proposition her, Jay reflected after she had gone. Not that he didn't find her attractive – he did, and were she a little older and rather a lot more worldly he doubted he would have bothered trying to resist the temptation of taking her to bed and thus mixing business and pleasure.

But she wasn't and it was, after all, the fact that she was so perfect for the part of Princess Mimi that had first caught his attention, even before Lucius Carlyle – the stubborn and difficult but extremely experienced and highly recommended director they had taken on to bring this production to the stage – had refused to entertain the idea of anyone other than him deciding who would play each role.

There had been a terrible argument earlier when Jay had overruled Lucius and insisted that Hettie be offered not just a minor part, but the role of Princess Mimi. But Jay was a man who listened
to and followed his instincts, and he was also a man who liked to take risks and to win.

‘The girl's a nobody. We don't even know if she can act,' Lucius had protested, furious at having his decision questioned and then overruled.

‘But we do know that she can sing,' Jay had told him firmly, ignoring the temper he could see burning in the other man's eyes.

Lucius did not approve of theatrical backers involving themselves in the productions they helped to finance, and he had said so very plainly. Equally plainly Jay had told him that his own situation was very different from that of a normal theatrical ‘angel'.

And so it was.

Jay had first met Archie Leonard, the young composer and librettist who had created the operetta, in New York. The young Englishman had been working on Broadway, and he and Jay had attended the same party. They had fallen into conversation and when Archie had learned that Jay's family had widely extensive interests in New Orleans which included several steamboats, and that Jay, like his father before him, was a well known and very successful gambler, Archie had proposed that Jay might like to gamble on him and provide the backing for the musical he had composed and written.

At first Jay had simply laughed, but he had been growing bored with his relationship with his mistress, and there was no way he had wanted to
return to New Orleans and the sickly, complaining but very wealthy wife he had married to please his father – especially not now that he had done his duty and fathered two sons by her.

He had a yen to see Europe and what better place to start than England? And what better excuse than the kind of risky financially venture he most enjoyed? The financial rewards if he won – and he was determined that he would – would even bring a smile to his father's face. And then, of course, there were the ‘extra benefits'.

Jay's whole body shook with laughter as he remembered Hettie's outrage. What a sweet pleasure it would be to teach her to beg him to want her instead of rejecting him! Was she still a virgin? A look of brooding sensuality darkened his eyes and stilled his body. Hettie aroused all those hotblooded desires that the iciness of his wife's pallid body could only chill.

‘Offered you the part, has he?'

Hettie gasped and put her hand to her chest, protesting, ‘Oh! You scared me half to death,' as Eddie Ormond, the young man who had escorted her to Jay's office, suddenly appeared out of the shadows.

‘Oh, poor little girl!' he mocked her. ‘If
I
scare you, you aren't going to last a day once our director gets his teeth into you. He isn't at all pleased at the way our angel has stepped on his toes,' he warned Hettie.

‘What do you mean?' she asked him nervously.

‘Why, only that darling Lucius our director is none too pleased that our angel has insisted on you being offered the ingénue part, when he had already earmarked it for one of his own favourites. And as for the lady herself, she's spitting teeth and ready to scratch out your eyes. Anyway, Lucius wants to see you, and he hates being kept waiting.'

Hettie tried to ignore the anxiety gripping her tummy as she hurried to catch up with her guide, who had almost run down the stairs before disappearing into the darkness of the corridor.

She caught up with him just as he was about to knock on one of the several closed doors, her eyes widening questioningly at she looked at him.

‘This is Lucius's lair,' he whispered to her. ‘I'll wait outside for you because you're to go and see Madame Cecile the choreographer.'

‘Come,' a sonorously elegant male voice commanded.

Eddie opened the door and Hettie stepped through it with trepidation.

The man frowning intently over what he was reading was as different from Jay Dalhousie as it was possible to be. Small and slight, with polished dark hair, deep set dark eyes, and a large beak of a nose, he exuded an air of authority and hauteur that immediately made Hettie feel even more apprehensive.

Whatever he was reading must be very important, Hettie decided, because so far he hadn't even
looked up at her, never mind acknowledged her presence or asked her to sit down. Instead, he reached for a pen and proceeded to make notes on a piece of paper, whilst Hettie felt compelled to stand so ramrod still that she hardly dared to breathe.

Then he put down his pen, lifted his head and
smiled
at her.

Hettie exhaled gustily in relief, an answering smile lifting her own mouth.

‘So, my dear, we are to welcome you to our little family. Your name is?'

‘Hettie, Sir, Hettie Walker,' Hettie almost stammered, half inclined to bob a small curtsey as he stood up.

‘Charmed, I am sure, Hettie. I, as I am sure you will know, am Lucius Carlyle, producer and director of our little show. To be sure, I am rather more familiar with the theatres of dear Shaftesbury Avenue and Drury Lane than those of the provinces, but…' His voice trailed away.

‘You are to have the part of the second female lead, the Princess Mimi, the young female cousin of the heroine of our little operetta, I understand. At least your looks and lack of height will make you suited to the role, and I am sure we shall be able to persuade our composer to cut some of the songs from the part if you should find it too taxing. Unfortunately, you have missed our early rehearsals, so you will have to work hard to catch up. Tommy Harding our stage manager will
provide you with a copy of your part, and everything else you will need, and he will also explain to you what will be required of you.'

Too over-awed to say anything Hettie could only gulp and nod her head, relieved to discover that the director was not the dreadful, fearful person that Eddie Ormond had so meanly implied.

Perhaps this was going to work out all right after all, she reflected. Maybe Jay Dalhousie would prove to be an angel in every sense.

Naturally Hettie could hardly wait to tell her friends, and especially Babs, her good news. She was practically hanging out of the window waiting for their return, shaking her head impatiently when they came upstairs, Babs already starting to commiserate with her.

‘Aw, 'Ettie, I am so sorry you did not get the part,' she said sympathetically.

‘Don't be, because I'm not,' Hettie interrupted her.

‘What?'

‘No! I do not mind at all about not getting that chorus part – because I'm going to be Princess Mimi instead!'

‘What?!' Babs exclaimed in patent disbelief.

Every one of the girls turned to stare at her.

‘'Ettie, that's impossible. Faye Wright ‘as got that part now. And we all know why,' she added darkly. ‘It's all on account of 'er and Lucius Carlyle having worked together before. First he
gets poor Flo Bardesly that upset that she teks up and leaves, and then sweet as apple pie our Faye steps into the part. No, 'Ettie, you won't be playing the second lead,' Babs told her shaking her head decisively.

‘Well I am, so there,' Hettie told her, sticking out her chin crossly, upset that Babs didn't believe her. ‘Mr Jay Dalhousie, who is backing the operetta, told me so himself.'

Six heads swivelled towards her, six pairs of eyes regarding her with similar expressions of disbelief.

‘You've met the angel?' Mary demanded enviously. ‘And just how in 'eck's name did you pull that one off, 'Ettie?'

‘Ooh, Hettie, you've really put our Mary's nose out of joint now,' Jenny giggled. ‘She's bin fancying her chances wi' him ever since she first eyes on him, 'aven't you, Mary?'

Mary tossed her head and flashed a murderous look at Jenny. ‘Certainly not. Wot kind of a girl do you tek me for? Everyone knows as how he is married…'

‘Well, that's never stopped you afore,' Hettie heard someone mutter, but fortunately Mary didn't seem to have heard.

‘You want ter watch it, Hettie,' she warned sharply. ‘If he has offered you the part it won't be the pleasure of listening to your voice he'll be after…'

Hettie's face had begun to burn with chagrin
and anger. She had been so looking forward to telling the girls her good news and now here was Mary spoiling it for her. ‘Well, for your information, it's nothing of the kind,' she told Mary fiercely. ‘Jay…Mr Dalhousie, wanted me for the part the very first time he heard me singing at the Adelphi. He says that I'd be perfect for it…'

‘Perfect for his bed, you mean,' Mary muttered.

But Babs shook her head and told her firmly, ‘Leave off upsetting 'Ettie, will you, Mary? I'm not a bit surprised that Mr Dalhousie wants her for the second female lead, she's perfect for it,' she defended Hettie loyally, adding, ‘We all knows how well she can sing and just look at 'er…'

‘Well, yes, I suppose she does 'ave a bit of a chinky look about her,' Mary agreed sulkily.

‘I am not…' Hettie began angrily but Babs, who was standing next to her, jabbed her so hard in the ribs with her elbow that she broke off from what she had been about to say to give her an indignant look.

‘But she can't dance, and we're halfway through rehearsals already, and if you was to ask me…' Mary continued, still glowering.

‘But nobody is,' Babs interjected, and the matter, for the time being, was left to rest.

It wasn't until later when she and Babs were on their own that Hettie was able to tell her friend how disappointed and upset she had been by Mary's response to her news.

‘Well, it's just a bit of jealousy, that's all, 'Ettie, and you mustn't tek it to heart. Mary's been trying to break out of the chorus for bloody years, but they keep telling 'er that her voice isn't strong enough, so you see for you to walk in and get the second lead just like that is bound to make her feel a bit sour. Don't worry about it, though, she's good-hearted enough and she'll soon come round.'

When Babs saw how upset Hettie still looked, she gave her a swift hug and coaxed her, ‘Come on, cheer up. If you think that Mary 'aving a bit of a go at you is sommat to get upset about, how the 'ell you're going to manage when old Lucy starts on you, I don't know.'

‘Lucy?' Hettie queried uncertainly.

‘Lucius Carlyle, the director, remember? And then there's Madame Cecile, a right Tartar she is and no mistake. Gawd, but she makes you work until you thinks your bloody legs will drop orf and then all she can say is as how we ain't anything like as good as “Mr Cochran's young ladies.”

‘That's the trouble when a backer knows nowt about the theatre and goes and hires London management and provincial artistes. Them in London think they knows it all and o' course they all 'ave their own favourites. If you ask me, it will be a bloody miracle if we even get to open here never mind get a full house and then move on to Drury Lane,' Babs opined with a world-weary air.

‘I thought you'd all be pleased I'd got the part,' Hettie told her miserably.

Babs sighed heavily. ‘There's a lot you're going to have to learn about the theatre, Hettie. And I don't just mean Madame Cecile's bloody dance routines. You see, no matter 'ow much another girl likes you, when you get a plum part and she doesn't it's bound to leave 'er feeling a bit sore, like. Any of us 'ud feel the same. Now come on, cheer up,' Babs commanded giving her another swift hug. ‘Mary 'ull soon come round. Have you told your family yet? Your ma and pa are bound to be pleased for you.'

‘No, not yet,' Hettie answered her. She was unwilling to discuss Ellie's condition, even with a friend as close as Babs. ‘Babs, do you really think I am good enough for the part?' she asked anxiously.

Babs pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side as she studied her. ‘Well, let's see. We all know as how you've got the voice; loud enough to drown out the whole bloody orchestra it is.' She chuckled. ‘And you've certainly got the looks. But it isn't just about being good enough, 'Ettie,' she added seriously. ‘Sometimes it's more about 'oo yer knows. Faye will kick up a right stink about you getting the part she wanted, yer can be sure of that. But don't you worry.' She gave Hettie's arm a comforting little squeeze. ‘We'll all be watching out for your back. Now, come on, I 'ope you haven't forgotten that we're all going to the picture house tonight to see Rudolph Valentino?'