Rhiannon (19 page)

‘Yes-yes, my love, I'm here,' he said, walking out from the shadow of the wings. As he reached her, his arm encircled her waist, pulling her to him.

She fell against him. Their kissing was more passionate than ever before. Lifting her into his arms, as if she were but a feather, he carried her off stage towards the dressing-rooms.

With her arms wrapped firmly around his neck, wherever he was taking her at that precise moment was all right with her. She never wanted this feeling ... this longing ... to end.

With one hand Gus opened the door of the ‘star' dressing-room, and carried her in.

It was so dark she couldn't see a hand in front of her. But, remembering the days spent in this very room when Aunt Florrie had held ‘star' spot, she, like Gus, knew only too well where the
chaise-longue
was situated. So, when he laid her down, the softness of the familiar plush velvet material seemed to embrace her.

Gus lay next to her. She felt his hands sensuously explore her back, her neck, her arms ... her breast. She didn't make any attempt to stop him. It felt too good.

‘If you'd like me to light the gas lamps, just say,' Gus whispered.

Rhiannon knew she should have insisted that he did. Insist that he must stop fondling her ... insist that he took her home ... but instead she quietly whispered, ‘No-no.'

‘My darling Rhi.' His mouth found hers and Rhiannon knew that their passion could no longer be denied. He loved her and she loved him. Surely that was all that mattered? As they urgently fumbled to undress one another, they both seemed reluctant to release each other from their passionate kisses. Then, as their bodies connected, he whispered, ‘My love. I promise to be gentle.' And then they became as one.

True to his word and aware it was her first time, Gus was a gentle,
considerate and, she sensed, an experienced lover. Any nerves or inhibition she might previously have felt were soon replaced by the urgent longing for his closeness – his touch – his all.

When it was over, Gus continued to hold her. For a while they just lay there, neither wishing to spoil the moment.

It was Rhiannon who eventually broke the silence. ‘Gus, I really should be getting back. I dread to think what trouble I'm in.'

Gus quickly rose to his feet.

‘Yes, of course, what must I have been thinking of? Come on, I'll walk you back to your digs.'

‘Thanks. But don't you think we should get dressed first?' Rhiannon giggled.

They both laughed, each aware of a new intimacy.

Rhiannon, sensing his naked body standing next to her, felt her colour rise, though she felt no embarrassment at what had gone between them and had no regrets.

When they were dressed, Gus took Rhiannon's hand, led her from the dressing-room and back to the stage door. Once outside Gus carefully locked up and replaced the keys in his waistcoat pocket.

Before moving off Gus pulled her to him. ‘Any regrets?'

Rhiannon vigorously shook her head. ‘Have you?' she asked.

‘Me? How could I possibly regret making love to such an adorable, gorgeous, loving creature?'

‘Gus, you know I love you. Don't you?'

‘I'm sure you
think
you do. I just wish I'd met you ... Rhi... ?'

‘Yes?' Rhiannon sensed he wanted to tell her something important . . . a secret maybe?

His eyes looked desperate.

‘What is it, Gus?' she urged.

He shook his head. ‘It's nothing. I agree, we really should get a move on. I dread to think what sort of reception we'll get from your landladies when we get back.'

Rhiannon wished that instead of fobbing her off he'd said what was really on his mind. Could what he had failed to say have been so bad? Maybe he was trying to tell her that he didn't love her and their intimacy had, for him, been just another encounter. Was that it? And if so, would she ever know?

Although they walked hand in hand, Rhiannon felt a rift between them. Their earlier closeness had been severed by ... what? She didn't know.

They were nearly at her digs.

‘Here goes, it's time to face the music. I think we should keep it brief. All we need to say is that Adam and I talked you in to staying for dinner and we simply lost track of the time. I don't think we should mention stopping off at the theatre. That'll be our little secret, don't you agree?' Gus fidgeted, as if embarrassed.

Rhiannon sensed he wanted to be rid of her. ‘Y-yes, I'm sure that would be for the best. Look, on second thoughts, there's no need for you to walk me to the door. I'd rather face them alone. Of course I'll make sure they know you walked me home, but I think it best if we part here.'

He didn't argue, he just said, ‘All right, if you're sure?' He bent over and placed a friendly kiss on her cheek. ‘I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know how you get on. And Rhi, sleep well. Mair's going to be fine.'

As he turned to leave Rhi bit her lip. ‘Thank you,' she whispered.

She felt confused, had she imagined him cooling towards her?

Rhiannon reached the front door of her digs and, taking a deep breath, was just about to knock and face the music when she heard a voice.

‘Rhi, I'm up here!'

Rhiannon looked up to see Clara hanging out of the second-storey window.

‘Rhi, I've been waiting ages. Where the hell have you been? Whatever you do don't knock on the door. Mrs Gordon's on the warpath – she sent her sister to bed hours ago. Stay where you are and, I'll sneak down to let you in.'

Minutes later Clara opened the door and, holding a flickering candle in one hand, beckoned Rhiannon in with the other. ‘Shhhh, the old dragon's lying in wait in the dining-room. Take your boots off, we need to tiptoe across the hall and up the stairs,' Clara whispered.

As she bent down to untie her boots, Rhiannon's heart was in her mouth. What if they were caught? Kind as Clara was, it just wouldn't be fair to get her into trouble, and maybe thrown out of the digs for something Rhiannon had done.

‘Well now, what's going on here?' a stern voice demanded.

Rhiannon immediately stood up to see Mrs Gordon, also with a burning candle in hand, standing in the hallway.

Quick as a flash, Clara piped up, ‘I came down to answer the door and, lo and behold, there was Rhiannon.'

‘Is that so? Well maybe you can explain how I didn't hear this “phantom” knock?'

Clara scrunched up her shoulders. ‘I really don't know. But—'

‘All right, that will do. It's late – much too late for mysteries. I think it best if you two get yourselves off to bed.' Mrs Gordon walked over to Rhiannon, ‘And, as for you, young lady, I shall deal with you in the morning. At this moment I can't tell you what a disappointment you are to me. I dread to think what your Aunt Florrie would make of you
coming in at this ungodly hour.'

‘Sorry, Mrs Gordon.'

‘As I said, we shall talk in the morning. Now follow me.' With that, she turned on her heel and led the way across the hall and up the stairs.

Mrs Gordon left them on the landing outside their respective bedroom doors. ‘I'll thank you to take to your beds, do you hear?'

‘Yes, Mrs Gordon,' the girls answered in unison.

When Mrs Gordon was safely out of the way Rhiannon unlocked her bedroom door and entered her room, closely followed by Clara who proceeded to light the gas lamp on the writing-desk.

‘That went well. At least we managed to postpone Mrs Gordon's wrath until the morning. Enough time for you to think up a feasible story, eh? That said, having stuck my neck out for you, I'll take no less than the truth. So, where the hell did you get to tonight?'

‘Oh Clara, what a day I've had. I didn't tell you before, in case it all went terribly wrong but, we've found Mair and, if all goes well, we should have her back by Friday.' Rhiannon's excitement was obvious.

‘That's great news. And would Gus Davenport be the other half of the “
we
” you refer to, by any chance?' Clara asked.

‘Well, yes.' Rhiannon, puzzled by Clara's look of disapproval quickly added, ‘Gus and Adam have both helped me so much. That's why I'm late back. Adam invited me to stay for a meal at his house.'

‘Doesn't Gus live there too?'

‘Yes. The three of us had a meal and a drink to celebrate Mair's impending return.'

‘And ... after the meal? I don't have to guess who put that look in your eyes?'

‘Look? What look?'

‘The look that tells me you've come of age. Got something to tell me, eh?'

‘Rhiannon felt her colour rise as she cast her gaze to the floor.

‘No. Well let me guess. I bet Gus Davenport, ever the gentleman, offered to walk you home and on the way, made a pass. I can see it now. It's common knowledge how persuasive our Gus can be. And you, obviously flattered by having such an attractive man fawn over you, fell for his charms.'

‘It wasn't like that! Yes we did ... but I love him and he—'

‘He what? Oh Rhi, I should have seen this coming and warned you. I've known Gus Davenport for a long while. Please believe me when I say you're not the first to succumb to his charms and you probably
won't be the last. I just hope that what you two did tonight doesn't result in your ending up in the family way, because one thing's for sure, Gus Davenport is not the marrying kind.'

‘How can you say such a nasty thing? I thought you were my friend.'

‘I am. That's why—'

Rhiannon raised her hand. ‘No! I think you've said more than enough. I'd like you to go now. I need to be alone.'

 

Gus entered Adam's house. He walked across the hall and deftly replaced the theatre keys on the hook before entering the parlour.

Adam, relaxing in armchair by the fireplace, looked up from
The Times
newspaper. ‘So you're back, then? Good night, was it?' Adam snapped.

‘Yes. Rhi is safely delivered to her digs. I shouldn't think she'll be in too much trouble. We both know that Mrs Gordon's a softie at heart. I told Rhiannon to blame us, to say that we insisted she stayed for a meal and the time just—' He was about to elaborate when Adam interrupted.

‘Stop off anywhere on the way, did you?'

‘No-no, why do you ask?'

Adam leapt from his chair. ‘You're a lying swine! Did you really think I wouldn't notice the theatre keys missing from the hook?'

‘Look, Uncle Adam, you don't understand—'

‘Oh yes, I do. And don't Uncle Adam me! What was I thinking? Trusting you, who's never been known to miss an opportunity for a dalliance with a pretty young girl? I stupidly believed that your feelings towards Rhi were different, that you truly cared for her, but all the while you were nursing your usual schemes.'

‘It wasn't like that,' Gus protested.

‘No? I don't believe you. We both know how indebted she felt concerning the money we put up for Mair's safe return. Well, it didn't take you long to find a way for her to repay you, eh?'

‘I can see how it might look. I'm only too aware of what an uncaring bastard I've been in the past. But Rhiannon – you're right – Rhiannon is different.'

‘Who are you trying to fool? It might work on a vulnerable young girl, but I for one am having none of it! First thing in the morning I intend to do what I should have done weeks ago: tell her about what happened to Helena Biggins and how, like now, all you were interested in was having your fun and to hell with the consequences. I did try to warn you that,
like most girls, Helena wanted more – but would you listen? And when you'd done with her and moved on to your next conquest—'

‘I never, not for one moment, thought she'd take her own life.'

‘That's your trouble. You never bloody well think! You just let your dick rule your brain. When that young girl took her own life I felt partly to blame for not warning her off you. Well, it'll not happen again—'

‘Adam. Please. I beg you. Please don't spoil my chances with Rhiannon. I want—'

‘I don't particularly care what you want. I want you out of my house, out of the theatre and out of my life!'

‘I can see there's no reasoning with you. If that's what you want, I'll leave in the morning.'

‘No. Not in the morning. I want you out of here tonight! And I'll thank you to leave your keys to the front door.'

 

Gus awoke with a headache; he'd had too much whisky the night before. Having just managed to throw some clothes and toiletries into a suitcase, he'd left Adam's house and booked into the Angel Hotel for the night. For as long as he had known him, he had never seen his uncle so upset. When Gus had been ten, after the tragedy of losing both parents in a house fire, Adam had taken him in. Since then Adam had been his rock; so dependable and non-judgemental; a perfect friend as well as uncle.

Gus knew only too well how his casual, uncaring use of the many women he'd encountered over the years had left him with something of a reputation. A reputation that, up until now, he'd enjoyed, believing as he did that most of the women who succumbed to his charms all knew where they stood. What they saw was what they got. Which was why he'd been so shocked by what had happened to Helena Biggins. Gus had thought she understood the rules: to have fun with no commitment and no strings. When Adam had tried to warn him off Gus hadn't listened. Now Adam was going to tell Rhiannon about all of Gus's past misdemeanours and of the callous way he'd treated Helena Biggins ... and its dire consequence. Gus was in no doubt that when she found out what type of man he was, she would turn against him.

The irony of the situation was not lost on Gus, for his feelings for Rhiannon were so very different from those he'd had for any other woman. For a long time he'd tried to deny the way he felt about her, telling himself that it was just another of his dalliances, but tonight after their shared intimacy he knew what he felt for her was different:
he truly loved her. She was like a breath of fresh air and he loved everything about her: from the way her unruly chestnut hair fell on her small shoulders, her slim yet well-formed tight little figure, to her shapely legs, right down to her tiny feet; she was a perfect package of innocent beauty. Oh yes, he was well and truly smitten.

Gus had thought of going back to Adam's, to plead his case one more time but, remembering the grim determination on his uncle's face he knew how futile it would be. No, there was only one thing he could do. The time had come for him to move away. The thought of Rhiannon not seeing him in a good light, maybe even hating him, would be too much to bear.

 

‘Mrs Gordon, forgive me for calling at such an early hour,' Adam apologized, ‘but I really need to clarify what really happened – to explain the reason for Rhiannon's late return.'

‘Well, I must say, I expected better from you.'

‘It really was my fault. I'm afraid I got carried away, discussing new shows and the possibility of Rhiannon joining our next tour. I should have realized the time. I'm sure you of all people are aware of what an exciting new talent she really is?'

‘More reason to keep her feet firmly on the ground, I say. It wouldn't do to put too many high ideas into such a young head. I'm all for nurturing new talent, but not at the cost of one's sense of decency and decorum.'

‘Quite. Have you spoken to Rhiannon yet?'

‘No, not yet. I've asked her to meet me here in the parlour after she's had her breakfast.'

‘I wonder ... would you mind if I joined you? There are a few changes to the scheduled performance that I think you both should know about before the band-call.'

Rhiannon gave a light tap on the parlour door; it was time to face Mrs Gordon.

‘Come in,' Mrs Gordon called.

Rhiannon entered and was surprised to see Adam Fletcher seated alongside Mrs Gordon. On seeing her he rose to his feet. ‘Good morning Rhiannon,' he said.

‘Adam – Mr Fletcher, I didn't expect to see you here.'

‘Mr Fletcher came to explain how your late return last night was entirely his fault. I have accepted his apology on the understanding that it will not happen again.'

Rhiannon's eyes met Adam's; she hoped he would see in hers her heartfelt thanks for taking the blame. Turning to Mrs Gordon, she said, ‘Thank you for being so understanding, I promise it'll not happen again.'

‘Good. Now let that be the end of it. Mr Fletcher, you mentioned a change in schedule?'

‘Yes, Mrs Gordon. Rhiannon, it'll soon become common knowledge but I wanted you to be the first to know that Gus Davenport has left the company. I—'

‘Gus has left? When? Where? Why?'

‘Miss Hughes. I'll thank you to watch your manners. Sudden as it may seem, the reason for Mr Davenport's departure is surely no concern of yours.' Mrs Gordon voice was stern ‘Now, please leave the room. It's almost time for you girls to leave for the theatre, you'd better go chase up Clara. Band call is at ten-thirty this morning, remember.'

Rhiannon reluctantly did as Mrs Gordon ordered and left the room.

‘Mr Fletcher, I do hope you'll excuse the child's outburst, although I must say the news about Mr Davenport was a shock. I can see what a disruption to the show his leaving might cause.'

‘Yes, the suddenness of his departure has caused me quite a headache, I can tell you. I've been up half the night, thinking of who could fill the MC spot. I've come up with this idea: I thought to dismiss the whole idea of the MC and use a member of the cast to announce the acts instead. Tom O'Reilly seems favourite. I'm sure his comic banter between acts would go down well. What do you think, Mrs Gordon?'

‘I'm flattered you think me worthy of an opinion.'

‘You've been part and parcel of the Empire since even before I took over the company, and that's nearly ten years ago, so who better to ask?'

‘Well, put like that, I think your idea to change the format a good one. I, like you, think it would be hard to find a MC as capable as Mr Davenport at such short notice. I'm sure Tom O'Reilly as compère would work well.'

 

Rhiannon was in shock. Surely Adam was mistaken. Gus wouldn't just up and leave her like this. Not after what had gone on between them last night. If it were true, she needed to speak privately to Adam. He would put her straight.

‘What's up with you? Still pouting over what I said last night?' Clara asked. ‘Rhi, I'm sorry if I upset you. I only wanted to set you straight
regarding the likes of Gus Davenport, honest.'

‘I know. And there's been a development but I really don't want to talk about it. All I'll say is that you'll find out at band-call. Now, come on, get a move on, I don't want to be late.'

‘Development, what sort of a word is that? At band-call you say? I'm intrigued.'