The Songbird (55 page)

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Authors: Val Wood

BOOK: The Songbird
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‘Anthony!' she breathed huskily. ‘Will you take me home?'

CHAPTER FIFTY

Anthony took her first of all to his parents' house, for her clothing and trunk and personal belongings were there, and she told them tearfully and sincerely how sorry she was for having caused them distress by her disappearance. Rosina murmured and clucked, bringing her hot drinks and sweet cake as if she had been starving and lost in the desert, and although it was almost midnight Anthony took it upon himself to go to Dan's house and tell him that she was safe.

Dan arrived early the next morning and put his arms round her in a great bear-hug. ‘Don't think,' he whispered into her ear, ‘that just because I'm an ancient old fogey I don't understand,' and she managed a laugh, for he certainly wasn't that. He looked solemnly at her and began to say something, but became overcome with emotion. ‘Anthony will tell you,' he choked. ‘Go home to your papa,' he advised, and blew his nose. ‘I've wired him to say you're safe. Anthony will take you. And come back when you're ready. We'll be waiting for you.'

‘Anthony,' she said, on the journey to King's Cross station, ‘I feel terrible. I'm being such a nuisance. You're supposed to be in Italy.'

‘My arrangements were fluid,' he assured her. ‘I can pick up again when I know that you're safely home.'

She squeezed his hand. ‘You're so good to me. I do appreciate it. I was going to move on, you know! I'd decided that that was going to be my last performance at the Pit Stop. The only thing I didn't know was where I would go. I was scared of coming back. Afraid of what you would all think of me.'

‘Only good things,' he assured her. ‘That's what we think of you.'

She slept for a good deal of the train journey. Her relief at being discovered and having the decision about where to go next taken from her had allowed her to relax at last, and follow the advice of those who knew what was best for her.

‘Anthony!' She jerked awake, her head having rested on his shoulder. ‘There was a man at the Pit Stop! He – it probably seems strange for me to say it, but I thought that he had recognized me. He was constantly watching me. He – I think it was he – he threw a flower when I performed at the Savoy. And he was waiting outside when I came out.' She took a breath. ‘And when I saw the rose on the piano, I thought it was from him, and I don't know why, but I was just a bit afraid.'

‘He did know you,' Anthony told her. ‘I met him. He works in a music shop. His name is Fisher,' he said, and, by giving the stranger a name, diminished her fears. ‘He told me that he was watching over you, making sure that you were all right. He's an admirer, that's all. He's heard you often. Your black wig didn't prevent him from recognizing you.'

She looked up at him. ‘Have I been so very foolish? Such a lovesick child?'

‘Not foolish at all,' he said softly, for another passenger had got into their compartment at the last station. Then he whispered. ‘Are you over Charlie? Is it too soon to say?'

She gazed out of the window. A plume of smoke obscured her view of the passing countryside. ‘He's going to marry someone else,' she said in a low voice. ‘It didn't take him long to decide. I don't think he considered me in the least.'

‘And . . .' He hesitated, for she hadn't answered the question. ‘Do you think you would have married him if he'd asked you?'

‘I'm not sure,' she admitted. ‘He once said that if ever we were to marry, I would have to give up the stage.' She bit on her lip as she remembered. ‘He was quite cross and I did worry about what my answer would be, for I could never give up singing.'

Anthony sat back and suppressed a stinging comment on the idiocy of Charles Chandler, who couldn't hear or see such prodigious talent when it was standing in front of him. Nor, he mused as the train rattled and clacked on its way towards Hull, did he appear to see her sweet innocence. She was his friend's sister and perhaps, he thought darkly, Chandler didn't want an independent though unworldly young woman in his life, but preferred a more compliant companion. But, he nodded along with the swaying and lurching of the train, I am more inclined to believe that he was jealous! Jealous of her success and of the obvious fact that one day she will be more famous than he will ever be with his fancy footwear! And as his thoughts gathered speed, he realized that he too had been guilty of jealousy, and still was. Jealousy of Charles Chandler.

Poppy's father met them at the Paragon railway station and lifted Poppy into his arms. ‘You've given us some heartache, lass,' he blurted out as he hugged her. ‘Whatever were you thinking of, not coming home to them that cares for you?'

‘I'm sorry, Pa.' She burst into tears. ‘So very sorry.'

‘Well, never mind, you're safe home now, and is this the hero who rescued you?' He shook Anthony warmly by the hand. ‘I'm very pleased to meet you at last, Mr Marino. Poppy has spoken of you often and of course we heard you play when you were in Hull. You are very welcome indeed and we're most grateful. Most grateful for your consideration.'

Poppy saw that her father too was becoming very emotional as he spoke, and he put his arms round both of them as they followed the porter out of the station.

‘By 'look of all that luggage you've come home for a longish stay, Poppy,' he said huskily.

‘Come home to lick her wounds, sir,' Anthony said in a low voice. ‘She has been under considerable strain.'

‘Ah!' Joshua nodded and asked no more questions as they took a cab for the short journey to Savile Street.

‘We live behind and above 'shop,' he told Anthony, as they neared their destination. ‘We're just simple folk, but you are very welcome to our home, Mr Marino.'

‘Thank you, sir,' Anthony said. ‘That's exactly the same situation as my parents. Poppy might have told you they have a small restaurant in London.'

‘She did. She did.' Joshua gave his hand to Poppy to assist her down. ‘And Italian too, just like us?'

He continued with small talk as he helped the driver with the luggage, and then Poppy put out her hand for Anthony to follow her inside. ‘Come and meet my brother, and Mattie and – oh, Nan!' She flung her arms round Nan who stood smiling in the middle of the shop whilst Tommy and Mattie stood behind the counter. ‘Oh, Nan,' she wept, ‘I've missed you so!'

Anthony sidestepped them and leaned over the counter to shake hands with Tommy and then Mattie. ‘How do you do?' He laughed. ‘I'm Anthony Marino!'

Poppy told Nan and Mattie that Charlie was going to be married and discovered that they had already heard. He had at last written to his parents to inform them of his engagement and tell them how well his business was progressing. ‘I saw his ma,' Mattie said, upstairs in Poppy's bedroom, where she was helping her unpack her trunk. ‘She told me that he's making shoes for society people and stage folk too. She was quite proud of that, but sniffy about his engagement. Seemed to think that they'd never see him if he's marrying somebody out of 'top drawer.'

She must have seen Poppy's crestfallen expression, for she added, ‘You're well shut of him, Poppy. I know you were fond of him, but he'd never have been faithful.'

‘I expect you're right, Mattie,' Poppy said. ‘But it doesn't alter the fact that I did care for him and I thought he cared for me. But as for his fiancée being top drawer, well, she's rich, or her father is, but that doesn't make them better than anyone else.'

Mattie picked up Poppy's red dancing shoes. They had worn thin on the sole and the leather had indentations where her toes had pressed. She held them up. ‘Just look,' she said, dangling them by the heel. ‘Worn out! Time to cast them off and get new.' She gazed at Poppy. ‘He's mouthwateringly handsome, isn't he, your Mr Marino?' She sighed. ‘And those beautiful songs that he writes. How I'd love to hear him play.'

Poppy gave a surprised laugh. ‘Mattie! He's not
my
Mr Marino. He's—' She swallowed. ‘He's a good friend and very caring, that's true; that's why I wrote to him when I was so unhappy. I knew he would understand, and – and yes, he did come back from Italy to look for me.' Her lips parted and her eyes drifted unseeing as she pondered on that point.

‘You are so naive, Poppy.' Mattie shook her head at her. ‘I can't believe how innocent you are in spite of travelling abroad and working with those seasoned stage folk. Your pa was so worried that they'd corrupt you. And here you are, as green as you ever were.'

‘Am I?' Poppy asked breathlessly. ‘I didn't realize that I was.'

‘And I suppose you can't see either that Mr Marino is besotted by you? Why, his eyes follow you everywhere! You can't fool me.' Mattie laughed. ‘I know about these things.'

Poppy licked her lips. ‘You're being silly, Mattie,' she said. ‘And besides, being in love is far too painful. I'd be afraid of being hurt again.'

At the supper table the following evening, Joshua cleared his throat and stood up. ‘We, er, we've got some news.'

Poppy looked at Tommy and Mattie and raised her eyebrows, then beamed. They must have planned a date for their wedding.

‘When I say
we
, I really mean Nan and me.' Joshua glanced at Poppy, then at Tommy and Mattie, and then his eyes rested on Nan. ‘Them two know already, so it'll come as no surprise. But you won't know, Poppy, that I've asked Nan to be my wife, and she's agreed.'

Poppy gasped and for a moment was lost for words. Then she started to weep great floods of tears. Anthony, who was sitting next to her, put his hand in his pocket and brought out a clean handkerchief which he silently handed to her.

The others all looked at her with various degrees of apprehension on their faces, and Nan's own eyes started to fill and her mouth to tremble. ‘I know how you miss your ma, Poppy,' Joshua began, his face working with concern.

‘Oh, it's not that, Pa. I'm just so happy for you both.' She couldn't see for her tears. ‘I couldn't wish for anyone better for you than Nan – for all of us,' she added. ‘I love Nan so much, and I love you and Tommy and Mattie.' She rose from the table and went to Nan to give her a kiss, and then her pa and then Mattie and Tommy. She stopped by Anthony, who was offering Joshua his congratulations, and put one hand on his shoulder, whilst with the other she wiped her tears. He placed his hand over hers.

‘Am I the only one not to be given a kiss?' he said lightly. ‘Am I not always there with a large handkerchief at the ready to mop up the tears? Do I not deserve one on this momentous occasion, even if I am not family?'

Poppy gave a sobbing laugh and bent to touch her lips to his cheek. ‘Of course you do, Anthony,' she sniffled. ‘I have so much to thank you for. If it were not for you, I wouldn't be here. I'd be drifting round London, wondering what to do and where to go next.'

‘And now you've the chance to decide on your future from the comfort of home,' he murmured. ‘And the choice is yours.'

After supper Poppy asked Anthony if he would play the piano for them. ‘It's an old one,' she explained. ‘But Tommy and I could always knock out a tune on it.'

He laughed and sat down on the piano stool, and announced in a music hall manner, ‘The
celebrated
Anthony Marino, knocking out a tune on the Mazzinis' old
pianner
.' Poppy screwed up her eyes and put her hand over her mouth in embarrassment, and Anthony began with a dashing flurry and a busy shower of notes from a popular song, and then another, and singing loudly, called for them to join in. This was an Anthony that she didn't know; she knew the gentle considerate one, the understanding one, but not this humorous fellow. Then, changing his style, he played simple folk songs, and with a few gentle notes began Bellini's ‘
La Sonnambula
'.

Poppy got up from her chair and, standing beside him, began to sing, though a single tear ran down her cheek as she remembered singing for her mother. Anthony looked up at her as they came to the end, and, beginning a selection of his own songs, said softly so that no-one else could hear, ‘Sing him out of your soul, Poppy.'

She sang, for although he hadn't brought any music with him, they both knew the words and music, and the small audience sat and listened and eyed each other knowingly and tenderly.

Anthony stayed another day and then took his leave of them, as he had to travel back to Italy to continue his engagements. Tommy shook him warmly by the hand. ‘Come any time you like,' he said. ‘We'll be pleased to see you.' Anthony and Tommy had had several discussions about food and cooking and Anthony had told him about the food in Italy.

‘If you come to London after you are married,' he told Mattie and Tommy, ‘you must stay with my parents. They'd like that.' To Poppy's father and Nan he again offered his good wishes for their future together, and they both gave him their heartfelt thanks for finding Poppy.

‘We would have been bereft if anything had happened to her,' Nan said, giving him a warm smile. ‘And so, I suppose, would you?'

‘Is it so obvious?' he asked in a low voice.

‘To another woman, yes,' she answered. ‘But not yet to Poppy. It's too soon,' she added, and he nodded his understanding.

‘I wish,' Poppy said, as she stood with him at the railway station waiting for the train to arrive, ‘I wish we'd had more time. There's so much I wanted to show you and share with you.'

She had taken him round the town of Hull, shown him the string of town docks, called in at the theatres, and walked to the pier to see the lashing waters of the Humber estuary. ‘In the town where I was born there flowed a river,' he sang teasingly, his eyes gleaming.

‘There's another river,' she had said, and taking his hand had led him behind the old High Street to where the river Hull ran into the Humber. ‘But how did you know then how I was feeling?' she asked. ‘That song could have been written for me!'

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