Vintage Love (168 page)

“But what are you doing in London?” Fanny asked the old actress.

As if in answer Hilda Asquith coughed, a deep, hacking cough. “I have been ill,” she confessed, after the seizure passed. “I’m not longer well enough to travel. David Cornish gave me two months salary and urged me to rest until I regained my health.”

Fanny smiled her approval. “David always had a kind heart.”

“That he does,” the old actress agreed. “But I grew weary of my small room in Manchester. And feeling better, I decided I would come to London.”

Fanny took the old woman’s thin hand in hers and said, “I’m so glad you’re here. You must live with me until you’re completely well!”

Looking embarrassed, the old actress protested, “I could not dream of that! Imposing myself on you!”

“I’d like to have you here! I’m lonely!”

“With all your new friends and your success? We have heard about your London triumphs!” Hilda Asquith said.

Fanny smiled ruefully. “To be truthful, my success hasn’t made me all that happy! Though I do admit I have been more fortunate than I deserved.”

Hilda eyed her fondly. With emotion, she said, “That is not so! You have worked hard for your success! And you inherited much of your dear father’s talent!”

“Thank you,” Fanny said. “My father will always be a guiding force in my life.”

“He dearly loved you!”

“I know,” she said, her eyes blurring with unshed tears. “He wanted me to become a star of the London stage, and I have.”

Hilda agreed, “He would be so pleased.”

Fanny smiled at the old actress. “As soon as you are well again I shall have Sir Alan find a role for you in the new play. Then you can work without having to travel.”

“You think me talented enough for the company?”

“I say you have much more talent than many playing with us now,” Fanny assured her. “And what of the others? Has David made a success of his touring group?”

“He has done remarkably well,” the old actress said. “He is now a respected name in the provinces. He has his choice of the best theatres in all the towns.”

“I’m so happy for him!” Fanny said fervently.

Hilda gave her a knowing glance. “He took your leaving us hard.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“He was in a black mood for weeks after,” the character actress confided. “We all tried to help him. I talked to him and tried to make him understand you’d left to carry out your father’s wishes. In the end I think he came to terms with your decision.”

Fanny bit her lip. “I hope so,” she said in a small voice. Her eyes met the bleak, faded, blue eyes of the old actress. “In a way, I loved him.”

“And he had eyes for no one but you!”

“It made it doubly hard for me.”

“And for him,” the old actress sighed. “But then life is never easy, is it? He has achieved success and so have you.”

Fanny said, “Has he ever mentioned my being on the London stage?”

“He spoke of it one day when I was alone with him, after I became ill and he had come to my room to visit me. He had read a review of your latest London appearance and he was proud of you. He came close to saying that you had done right in leaving us.”

“But he did
not
say it?”

“You know David Cornish. His pride would not allow that. Yet I feel he now realizes you followed the right path. The bitterness has passed.”

“I pray so,” Fanny said.

“It has, I’m sure!”

She asked, “What about him? Has he shown any interest in anyone else?”

Hilda Asquith smiled bleakly. “It is a question I expected you to ask. For a while it seemed that girl whom you trained to take your place, Maude Lyons, would win his affections. I can promise you she tried hard enough.”

“And?”

“It didn’t work,” the old actress said. “Maude did well enough as leading lady but he showed no interest in her off the stage. In fact he treated her so coldly she left at the first opportunity and David had to find a new leading woman.”

Fanny felt both pleasure and sadness in the news. It was warming to know that David’s love for her had been so true, but troubling to think she might have turned him into a bitter bachelor.

She said, “I wish he would find someone to love and who would love him. He needs someone.”

“What about yourself?”

Fanny blushed. “I have been too busy for romance. I have many male friends to escort me about, but I have made no romantic friendships.”

Hilda nodded. “I think it has been much the same with David. He has worked hard to become a provincial star. And if I’m not wrong, one day he’ll make his mark here in London.”

“I hope he does,” Fanny said sincerely. “I’m sure he could be a success here if he tried hard enough. My complaint was that he could not see beyond the provinces.”

“He does now,” Hilda assured her. “I think you have shown him the way.”

Fanny hoped this was true. She could think of no happier development than David Cornish coming to London and gaining a reputation in the great city. They could be friends again if only he could find it in his heart to forgive her. But would it ever be the same? Would they resume as lovers? She was not sure. Still vivid in her mind and heart was the image of Viscount George Palmer. Though she hadn’t seen or heard of him in a long while she knew that he was still the great romance of her young life!

With the arrival of Hilda Asquith life in the London flat became less lonely. And as soon as Hilda was well enough she took her place in the company with Fanny and Sir Alan.

Silas Hodder, secure in his position of stage door manager, was much impressed with the old actress. He privately told Fanny, “Miss Asquith is not only a talented actress but a fine woman! It is my intention to invite her out to supper one night!”

And to Fanny’s amusement, he did. Hilda accepted and the two became close friends. The company appeared before enthusiastic large audiences every night and it seemed that nothing would change this pleasant world.

True, there were ominous rumblings of approaching trouble in the Crimea. There were some who went so far as to predict war with Russia! And the miserable poverty of many in the city and countryside in this era of growing industrial prosperity and the making of a new wealthy middle class did not appear to distress young Queen Victoria or her Consort, Prince Albert.

Then, without warning, a troublesome rivalry began in the London theatre world. Sir Alan Tredale was too much of a gentleman to initiate any such thing, and the other noted stars of the London stage, Charles Matthew and his wife Lucy, were close personal friends. It was from a much less exalted section of the theatre managers that the ill-will sprang.

There were a group of cheap companies presenting lurid dramas of a type gradually losing appeal. They blamed their vanishing audiences on the prosperity of Sir Alan and his company. These theatres south of the Thames presented such thrillers as
Gloomy Dell
and
Suicide Tree.
One of the gaudiest managers of these cheap drama houses was Tobias Wall, who had been pointed out to Fanny at several London restaurants.

Tobias Wall was a stout, red-faced man with graying side-whiskers and a florid manner both on stage and off. He wore frockcoats of atrociously loud plaids and his bad manners matched his poor taste. But he did have a following among the rabble and he became the chief among the trouble-makers for the People’s, Covent Garden, Drury Lane and Haymarket theatres.

He sent bully boys to annoy patrons lining up at these theatres to purchase tickets and also had these same roughnecks shove their way past the ticket takers to pass out handbills of the current Tobias Wall play in the theatres. Appeals to the police did little good; the bullies were dispersed only to return soon again. The London police could not be at the theatres constantly as they had other calls on their services.

Silas Hodder had several run-ins with the bullies trying to force their way in the stage door and though he and the other backstage crew had managed to repel the thugs, he was gloomy about the developments.

As Fanny paused to talk with him on her way out of the theatre one evening, the gaunt-faced man told her, “I don’t like it, Fanny! I don’t like it at all! Sir Alan is taking this too lightly! I say Tobias Wall and his lot are out to cause us serious trouble!”

She sighed. “I know others who agree with you. I will talk to Sir Alan and urge that we take more precautions.”

But when she approached the gentlemanly stage star he only showed pain on his handsome face and spreading his hands, asked, “What can I do? I will not stoop to the methods of these villains. I can only depend on the police and hope they will soon tire of baiting us.”

The hot summer came and some of the hooliganism ended. It appeared that Sir Alan had been correct. The worst of the conflict seemed to have passed. One August afternoon when there was no performance at the theatre Fanny accepted the invitation of a young admirer, Simon Frith, to accompany him to the races. She agreed on the condition she might bring Hilda Asquith along as chaperone. The charming, blond, young Simon was the son of a wealthy London brewer and had the reputation of being a rake, so she felt she must be especially cautious with him.

To her surprise, Simon cordially agreed that Hilda should accompany them in his carriage. And so they all three drove out to Ascot.

It was a hot afternoon and both Fanny and the elderly actress had worn light dresses of cotton lawn and carried parasols to protect them from the sun. Simon Frith in light gray frockcoat and gray tophat was perspiring fiercely as they arrived at the racetrack. The circular track was surrounded by the carriages of the gentry and the less affluent strolled about between the carriages.

“I vow it is the warmest day of the season,” Simon said, after he’d found a place for the carriage and a groom had taken his horses off to a shady spot. He stood beside the carriage wiping his forehead with a large white linen handkerchief. “My apologies for bringing you out on such a day.”

“I do not get to the races very often,” Fanny smiled. “So I’m bound to enjoy myself. And so is Miss Asquith.”

“It is all quite thrilling!” Hilda Asquith agreed.

Simon replaced his hat on his head and glanced about bleakly. “I’m afraid it is all too familiar to me.” The races had not yet begun and vendors were going about hawking cold drinks and food items. Itinerant acrobats and other entertainers were giving the crowd gathered there a sample of their talents. Later one of their number would go from carriage to carriage with a tin cup for donations. Jockeys were also appearing on finely-groomed horses and it presented a colorful spectacle.

Simon Frith told them, “If you will excuse me, I have a favorite bookmaker whom I must find before the horses run!” And with a bow he left them and vanished in the motley crowd.

Old Hilda Asquith smiled. “It would appear young Mr. Frith is more interested in betting than in female companionship. I fear my being here is hardly necessary.”

“You are wrong in that,” Fanny told her. “I need company while Simon attends to the races and there is always afterwards to consider. I have heard some distressing stories about our charming host.”

“At any rate I’m enjoying it,” the elderly actress said. “I have never attended such a grand affair before.”

Fanny was about to make a reply to this when a young man in the red and gold jacket and blue breeches of an army officer came up to their carriage. Removing his black hat with its gray plume he addressed himself to her.

“Well, Fanny, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me so soon!” he said.

She stared at the pleasant-faced, fair-haired young man for a moment before she recognized him. Then she exclaimed, “You’ve grown a mustache, Captain Charles!”

“I have but I can’t imagine it has made so much difference in my looks,” he teased her good-naturedly. “I’m afraid I made so little impression on you, you’ve forgotten me!”

“Not at all,” she said with a small laugh. “You remember you were always a favorite with us downstairs.”

The young army officer said, “But it’s downstairs for you no longer, Fanny. I’ve seen you on the stage playing opposite Sir Alan. You’ve become a star of the London stage.”

“You’ve seen me at the theatre?” she asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Several times,” Charles Palmer assured her. And with another of his amused looks, he added, “And I’m not the only one. Another member of my family whom you must remember a lot better than you do me, has also watched you on the stage.”

Fanny felt her cheeks burn. “Really?”

“I have much to tell you,” Captain Charles Palmer said.

“The races are about to begin,” she told him. “Miss Asquith and I are awaiting the return of Simon Frith.”

“Simon?” Charles raised his eyebrows. “You are mixing in fast London society, my girl. Do you think Simon would excuse you if you joined me for a short chat and left Miss Asquith here to entertain him?”

She smiled in confusion. “I’m not sure he’d approve.”

Hilda Asquith had taken in the situation and at once spoke up, saying, “Go on with your friend, Fanny. I will explain to Mr. Frith when he comes back. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“There you are!” Charles said warmly. “Miss Asquith is on our side!”

She turned to Hilda and said, “Tell Simon I won’t be long.” Then she allowed Charles to help her down from the carriage and lead her a distance from the track.

As they walked, a cry rose up from the race track, and people began hurrying by them in the opposite direction, anxious not to miss the first race. Charles glanced at her, “You don’t mind missing the race, I trust.”

“No,” she said. “I’d rather talk.”

“And so would I,” he agreed. “So many things to say. There is a big oak tree back here which will offer some shade.”

They reached the huge tree which was within sight of the race track. The area surrounding it was deserted and so they were able to sit together on the grass and talk without interruption.

Charles studied her with admiring eyes. “I must say you’ve grown a lot move lovely! And you were a beauty at the start!”

“No flattery, please,” she said.