Kitty Peck and the Child of Ill-Fortune (10 page)

His eyes bulged and his lower lip dropped revealing the three stained, uneven teeth that still had a purchase in his gums. For a moment I was reminded of one of them fish the Billingsgate mongers sell cheap on account of their looks.

‘As it happens, I haven’t got all night neither. Do you understand me?’ I repeated the question slowly.

He nodded, ‘You . . . you are a Baron? But—’

‘There are no buts about it. She chose me. It will be official in May.’ I paused and swallowed. It was less than two weeks away now. I couldn’t afford to let Fitzy know what I really felt about that. I clenched my hidden right fist and smiled up at him, sweet as a shepherdess. ‘And if you breathe a word of what I’ve just told you to anyone – most ’specially to any of them out there – without my say so, you’ll find out what a Baron, even one who’s
just a girl
, can do. Now – get them to bring up the lights.’

I saw a vein twitching in Fitzy’s right temple as he digested what I’d just told him. It was a risk on my part, but for all his bark and bluster I knew him to be a coward. The Lady – the real one – had practically made him a gelding, and God forgive me, on Peggy’s behalf I enjoyed seeing him squirm. Soon enough they’d all find out, but in the meantime I was certain it wouldn’t be from him.

‘The lights, Fitzpatrick?’

‘I’ll get to it, ma’am.’ As he turned and flung open the door I realised there hadn’t been a dash of sauce in his reply. I glanced at myself in the spotted mirror over the fireplace. It was the only reminder of Fitzy’s incumbrance still in the office on account of it being bolted to the wall.

The girl who looked back at me wore a dark, high-necked gown in a good plain crêpe and her hair was drawn back into a tight knot at the back of her head. I pinched my cheek and bit down hard on my lips to make them flush up dark. Then I pulled the pins from my hair and shook the ringlets loose.

The people waiting for me out there knew Kitty Peck, The Limehouse Linnet, not a bleedin’ nun.

‘And finally there’s the question of pay.’ I paused and looked around at them all.

Most of the girls were lined up against the twisted columns at the back. Early on they’d been fluffing about and talking behind their hands. I’d heard more than a couple of hisses too, but I noted they were all paying attention now.

For some reason Professor Ruben and the rest of the orchestra had taken it upon themselves to crowd into one of the lower boxes at the side of the hall. Swami Jonah was leaning against the painted side and occasionally he turned back to them to make a remark. I didn’t need to be a mind-reader to work out that not everything he said – in broad Liverpool – was flattering. I’ll have a little chat with you later, I thought, and then we’ll see who can really tell fortunes.

Mrs Conway was hovering near the side door. The thing on her head, I couldn’t rightly call it a hat, put me in mind of something in one of the glass cases in Telferman’s office. She waved and, God help me, I smiled back.

That little chat hadn’t gone exactly to plan. When it came to it I couldn’t seem to find the words to tell her she was stale as a Bow widow’s bun. Instead I suggested that perhaps it was time for her to perform less often but at a higher rate – ‘like they do up the Garden,’ I said. She liked that.

The brothers Cherubimo, a tumbling duo, were over to the left leaning against the red lacquered wall staring at the girls. The brothers liked the punters to think they came from Italy and they peppered their act with the lingo –
Pronto!
Saltare! Cattura!
Ladies liked their compact, muscular frames and their fine black whiskers. I liked their Birmingham accent.

The scenery boys were sitting around the tables. Some of them had been playing broads. I could see the interrupted hands laid out in a fan in front of them. Danny was smoking and flicking the edges of the deck stacked next to his glass. There was a pile of coins between him and his two companions. I frowned. He’d never learn. I scanned the hall for Peggy, but I guessed she was back at their lodgings in Risbies with Robbie.

Lucca was at the back with deaf Bertie from the workshops. They were standing to the left of the serving board. Fitzy was there too. He faced the mirror set behind the narrow bar, and as I watched, his reflection knocked back another glass. Mr Jesmond from The Carnival was just along from him. They always let a respectful distance stand between them, but they liked to keep each other in sight. With thin black hair slicked down on either side of a parting wide as an alley and currant eyes that seemed to burrow deeper into his head during the hours of daylight, Aubrey Jesmond put me in mind of a mole. He was a good manager, though, I’ll give him that. The Carnival was lousy as a fox with the mange, but from my reckoning of the books he made it pay, just.

‘What about it then – the pay?’ A Scottish voice from the hall brought me up. It was Dismal Jimmy, the Glasgow droll. Trust him to get to the meat.

I jerked my head to the stage just behind me. ‘Listen. We all know this is an uncertain trade, even in the best of times. I’ve been up there on the boards, I’ve worked behind on the costumes, I’ve taken bucket and mop to the gallery . . .’ I glanced up and paused. Something pale shifted up there.

I squinted. No – it was a trick of the light. Maybe the house lights bouncing off the polished brass rail?

I continued. ‘I’ve hung seventy foot above where you’re sitting and standing now, twirling and singing even though my heart was in my mouth’ – actually, it wasn’t, mostly, but it did no harm to let them think I’d suffered for my art – ‘so I think I have a good idea of what working the halls – here, at The Carnival and at The Comet – really means.’

Another voice went off now. ‘And what about The Comet? That ceiling you broke won’t mend itself, Kitty.’ People began to laugh and I let them, I was glad to hear it.

After a moment I raised my hands for some hush and I’ll admit I was surprised they stoppered up. I placed my hands on my hips and tossed my hair so that a couple of ringlets fell over my face.

‘I’ll happily admit that the weight of my talent put enormous strain on the ceiling at The Comet. But it was the shoddy workmanship of them French plasterers that brought it tumbling down and me with it.’ There were whistles from the hands and the rumble of approval.

‘And now I’m going to get some local lads in to put it right again.’ The rumble turned into stomping, clapping and even cheers as I continued. ‘I’ve been looking at the books and there’s enough
in the kitty
. . .’ I paused for dramatic effect and it worked a treat ‘. . . to pay them a fair rate and to make sure that you, every last one of you, get a decent, regular wage, whether you’re working that week or not.’

The hall went completely silent.

I moved away from the edge of the stage and climbed onto a table so that everyone could see me clear. ‘Yes – you heard me right. I know what it’s like scratching a living here. I know what it’s like when you haven’t got a stick to light and only a finger of bunter’s tea to keep out the chill. I know what it’s like to suck on dust for a week in order to pay the shylo.’ I glanced at Danny, but he was still flicking at the boards. ‘So I propose that we enter into a contract. You keep faith with me and serve the halls proper and I’ll look after you, come what may.’

‘That a promise, Kit?’ The voice came from the shadows at the back behind the columns. I turned about in a slow half circle trying to make out the faces, then I spat into my right palm and held it forward.

‘You have my word. Now, all of you, come and shake on it.’

There was low muttering. I looked at my outstretched hand and watched the smoke curl around my fingers. I was glad to see they were straight, not trembling now. One of the girls spoke up. ‘What about Ada Rix? You going to help her too, then?’

There was a murmur of agreement from the gaggle at the back of the hall.

I shielded my eyes with my left hand, trying to make out the speaker. ‘What about Ada?’

The voice came again.

‘Terrible it is.’

I craned to see who was speaking. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Accident. Two days back she was knocked into the Commercial in front of a brewery cart, with the babby tucked up in her arms. His head was stoved in by one of the horses. He died on the instant. I reckon he was the lucky one. Ada went under the wheels. They say she ain’t got long. She’s all alone, she can’t work and she can’t pay the crow. What you going to do for the likes of her?’

The last time I’d seen Ada she hadn’t even known that she was carrying. She was glowing like an oil lamp that day in the workshops, telling me how her Tommy was thinking about setting up a coster stall. I didn’t say much. Thing was, we all knew her Tommy was rotten to the pips and now he was in Pentonville thinking about five years treading the mill for stealing onions.

I dipped my head lower, peering to the back. ‘That you, Mary O’Brien? Listen, I didn’t know until just now about Ada, but I tell you this straight. I’ll make sure she’s got enough to pay for her lodgings, and for medicine too. I’ll deal with it.’ I paused, catching myself out for sounding just like the old bitch. But all the same, I’d make sure Ada was comfortable for as long as she needed. Then another thought occurred to me – not a comfortable one – something about Ada’s little one and something Lucca had just told me on the way over to The Gaudy. I hadn’t taken it in on account of thinking about what I was going to say tonight, but it was a peculiar coincidence.

Of a sudden I realised they were all quiet and looking at me expectant now. I pushed the thought out of the way.

‘Now, here’s my hand on it. Who’s first?’

I held my breath for a long moment. I reckoned my heart was bouncing about so loud under the crêpe they could all hear it rattle.

‘I’ll shake your hand, Kitty.’ Old Peter climbed over the side of the booth where the orchestra were packed in together like a crate of wet fish. He walked towards me, turned to take in the hall and then, gently, he bowed, turned my hand over and kissed it, like I was a queen.

‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

He looked up at me and grinned. ‘The cat is no longer afraid.’

‘I’ll take it too.’ Danny was on his feet now. He took a last drag on his Woodbine and ground the glowing tip into the bottom of a glass, then he swiped the boards into his pocket and came through the tables towards me. ‘That’s the best offer I’ll get all year, Kit.’ He winked and shook my hand.

I stood on tiptoe and narrowed my eyes to take in Lucca at the back of the hall. He raised his hands above his head, clapped and shouted out one word, ‘Bravo.’ Old Peter took it up too, and suddenly they was all standing – clapping and stamping and hollering. And then they started to come forward crowding around me and reaching up. I turned about on the table top and leaned down to catch as many hands as I could in mine. And when they’d had their fill of me I straightened up and called for a bit of peace.

‘I’ll tell you something now for free,’ I began. ‘These theatres of mine – the theatres Lady Ginger left in my care because she liked what she saw in me – well, they’re nothing more than bricks, mortar, plaster dust and a little bit of make-believe. What I think is this –
you
are the real riches,
you
are the assets she left me. I’m going to invest in you and together we’ll make these three halls the talk of London.’

Lucca pushed the shutters together and slotted the lock bar into place. The window in The Gaudy’s office was high, narrow and barred across the outside. It looked over an alley running down the side of the theatre and round to the workshops out back. Even if a jemmy crew forced the bars, then broke the glass and the boards, they wouldn’t find much to take in here, not unless they knew about the safe hidden in the little room beneath the trap under the desk.

I say room, but it was barely larger than a coffin. I had to breathe in to turn round down there. The trap opened to a narrow flight of stone steps that turned sharp right into a low brick-lined chamber barely four foot square. I didn’t like it down there. It put me in mind of being buried alive.

Fitzy knew about it, naturally. He’d shown me it on the day he grudgingly handed over the keys. ‘The hidey hole’ he called it, pointing out the edges of the trap in the boards. ‘Didn’t have much call for it myself, but you might as well know it’s there.’

Me and Lucca were the only ones now who knew where the takings went at the end of a working night. I glanced down at the rug to make sure the trap was covered. I shunted my chair forward so it was standing on top of it and then I checked the desk drawers were locked. It was a little routine I went through before leaving. I slipped the desk key into my pocket and felt the bit of broken chain.

Joey’s ring had gone under the desk earlier, but his Christopher had rolled over to the door. I moved the oil lamp to the edge of the desk and bent down, scraping my fingers over the rug, hoping the ring hadn’t slipped down between the trap boards.

‘Have you lost something?’ Lucca reached for his muffler and coat. They were folded neatly over the back of the chair on the other side of the desk.

‘Joey’s things – the ring and the Christopher. The chain broke when I was talking to Fitzy before going out there tonight. I was fiddling with them for luck like I used to when I went up in the cage.’

‘You didn’t need luck tonight, Kitty.
Eri magnifica!
’

I smiled. I didn’t need him to translate that one. ‘I remembered what you said on the boat about treating people fair and decent. It’s what they wanted to hear. That and a bit of show – Old Peter was right there.’

‘Does Telferman know what you have proposed?’ Lucca arranged the muffler so it sat high round the lower part of his face.

I shook my head. ‘Not yet. I didn’t quite know what I was going to say myself until I was standing out there and it . . . came to me. I know one thing already, though: the Beetle won’t like it. Can you look under the desk for the ring while I go back into the hall? I reckon the Christopher must have rolled out through the door. It can’t have gone far.’

I turned the lamp up higher and took it across to the door, setting it down on the boards just before the door. ‘You got enough light to see by there?’

Lucca nodded and knelt beside the desk. I pushed the door open and moved the lamp forward a little so that a pool of light fell into the hall. The Christopher must have rolled to the right so in all likelihood it was just in front of the stage a few foot away.

I got down on my knees and shuffled forward scanning the floor and sweeping the flats of my hands over the sticky wood. I’d have a little chat with whoever was supposed to be mopping out down here, I thought. I caught the gleam of something round and gold stuck between a crack in the boards a couple of foot out and straightened up. At the same moment the door to the office swung shut.

‘Lucca?’ I shouted. ‘Open up. I can’t see out here now.’

I felt a hand on my shoulder. ‘That you, Lucca?’

There was no answer as a hand moved softly to my cheek. I took a breath of leather, tobacco, wood and spice. It was like the smell that comes off the warehouses at St Katharine’s when the wind’s in the right direction. The muscles in my back went rigid and the hairs rose on the back of my neck.

‘If this is a joke, Lucca Fratelli, it’s not bleedin’ funny.’ My voice came out thin as watered milk.

The gloved hand moved to my ear, stroking the curve of the lobe and the vulnerable spirals of flesh above. I tried to stand but the fingers tightened. I stifled a cry. I wasn’t going to give whoever it was bending over me in the dark the satisfaction. And then another hand crept round the other side of my face, leather fingers clamping over my mouth.

‘Where is he, Josette?’ The whisper came from behind, lingering over the name so it came out like a hiss. I could feel the man’s breath on my cheek and taste the smoke in it at the back of my throat.

‘Where?’ The fingers twisted sharp and now I would have cried out if I could.

Of an instant the door behind opened and he let go. Framed in a slice of light Lucca fiddled about to push the door back to the point where it stayed put and then he held his hand up. Something glinted between his fingers.