Molly side-stepped that one. ‘Are you thinking of staying in Brisbane?’
‘Perhaps. Who knows?’
*
Rory greeted Molly with a hug, just as if they had been friends for ages. Then he spun her round with her feet off the ground, laughing as he did so.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asked, when she got her breath back and her feet on the sawdust.
‘You, Molly. In those breeches, you look like a little boy!’
She felt rather put out. ‘I thought they were the best thing to wear!’ she retorted, aware that they had a grinning audience of performers practising nearby. ‘Having been told that a skirt was unsuitable . . . ’
‘You really want to try again on the rope?’
‘Yes, I do. I won’t cry if I fall off.’
‘I’ll be here to catch you,’ Rory assured her. And he was.
*
‘I ought to go back to lunch, really,’ she told Aunt Cora Kelly later. Molly took in all the details of the wagon, marvelling at the way so much was packed into so small a space. Yesterday, she thought, I was too busy looking at Rory and hoping he wouldn’t notice! Today, I feel comfortable with him.
‘A light lunch, before the afternoon performance,’ Cora said. ‘Don’t want stomachs of lead.’
So Molly spooned up her bowl of broth, and dipped in her bread, just as the others did.
‘You did well today,’ Rory’s uncle told her. ‘A natural, I should say. Mother in the business once, eh?’
‘She was an actress. I asked Serena if she’d heard of her – her name was Florence Almond – but—’
‘Music hall?’ asked Thomas.
‘Oh, I don’t think so, but I don’t really know.’
‘Knew a girl of that name once. In the chorus she was.’ Thomas smiled at the memory, which caused his wife to look at him sharply. ‘Back in the old country, before I joined the circus. Before I met you, old girl! In one of the provincial halls . . . A bright spark, that Florence. Ambitious in the marriage stakes.’
‘If it’s the same Florence, then she married my father!’ Molly said. I don’t care if she wasn’t really an actress, just a chorus girl, she thought. I expect my father thought it sounded, well, better. I really can’t picture him at a music hall! But if Thomas’s Florence was my mother, then that’s why I’m me!
Echoing her thoughts, he said: ‘That would explain it . . . ’
‘I’ve got an idea. Move your elbows, Thom, let me brush the crumbs off the cloth,’ Cora admonished him. ‘Molly’d make a nippy lad in the act. When the Orlas leave us, well, there could be an opening then.’
‘Here in Australia?’ she exclaimed.
‘No, my dear, you’re going home, aren’t you? So are we, hopefully to do a bit in Europe before we tack down for the winter in the eastern corner of England where my folks come from. Travelling’s in our blood. Thom and me, we got no youngsters to tie us down. You’re coming with us, too, aren’t you Rory?’
‘I’m thinking about it, particularly if Molly is!’
‘When are you intending to go?’ she asked, feeling flattered.
‘End of the season. May, maybe June.’
‘Then we could all be sailing together.’
‘Doubt we’d be in the same class – but we’d make sure we all met up the other end,’ Cora said.
*
Molly wisely said nothing about her meal in the caravan but ate another, more substantial, lunch with Alexa and Cicely when she arrived back at the house.
Alexa waved a letter at her: ‘Elfie’s getting married, Molly, and she wants me to be there, to keep Frank in line. The wedding’s the day after tomorrow, which means leaving this afternoon. She suggests that we – she means you, Nancy and Fay, of course, only Fay is still under the weather – should stay at Ernst’s house—’
‘Why don’t you take Cicely?’ Molly suggested. ‘We’ll be all right here, if she doesn’t object? It wouldn’t do Fay any good to go on the train if she’s still feeling sick, would it?’
‘It could well be beneficial, Cicely, for you to get away for a few days,’ Alexa considered. ‘What d’you think?’ she asked her.
‘Well,’ their hostess was already brightening up, ‘it would certainly take my mind off – things – with Ran away, and the girls would have the staff here to take care of them. Could I get packed in time, though?’
‘I’ll help you!’ Molly offered.
‘Just one thing, my girl,’ Alexa told her. ‘I don’t want you to be dashing off all the time to your new friends in the circus. We’ll be back by Friday, and as they don’t move on until after the Saturday performances, you’ll be able to see them then.’
‘I promise I’ll stay here with Nancy and Fay,’ Molly assured her. Now she’d have to write a letter to Rory, but she hugged the secret of what might come to be to herself, because now was definitely not the moment to divulge that . . .
SEVEN
It was rather nice, Molly thought, to play house on their own when the servants retired to their quarters downstairs. She made Nancy laugh as they sat that night in her room after Fay was asleep, gossiping over the last cup of tea of the day.
‘Wish I’d been with you this mornin’ – watching you bouncing about on that rope,’ the other girl said wistfully.
‘Don’t you miss your family, Nancy, when you’re away from them like now?’ Molly asked, a little later. She was curious about Nancy’s family, but her friend was strangely reticent on the subject. ‘There are a lot of you, aren’t there?’ she prompted.
Nancy’s face clouded. ‘There are. It’s not a life I want to talk about, though. I’m glad to be away from it. It suits me fine, livin’ in, like I am at the moment. I’ll miss you when you leave, though. Well, I’m ready for some shut-eye now in case I get another disturbed night. How about you?’ Molly wasn’t really prying, but her questioning clearly made Nancy uneasy.
She took the hint. ‘Goodnight, Nancy, sweet dreams,’ she said. ‘Remember, I’m only next door . . . ’
‘Night, Molly dear.’
*
The stairs creaked as Randolph Colton made his way upstairs well after midnight. He was exceedingly drunk. This was not a regular thing with him but some incident would trigger him off and then he would drink steadily – always spirits – for hours. This time the cause had been an abortive invitation to the theatre he had issued to a client. It was out of town, necessitating a long drive, just the two of them in close proximity. He had considered her to be a woman who needed a man, and he was definitely a man who desired a woman, but she had firmly shut her hotel door in his face. ‘Go away! You disgust me, slobbering over me like that!’
Stumbling back to the waiting cab, he had inadvertently given his home address, instead of the hotel where he himself was staying. It had been a long drive back, and he’d slept until the fare was rudely demanded, his pockets emptied, and he was abandoned on his front steps. His servants affected not to hear his arrival, deeming it wiser.
He looked into his wife’s room, but she was obviously not there. He moved on, surprised, to pause, swaying, outside Molly’s door. He tried the handle, finding it unlocked for once.
Molly was lying on top of the covers on her bed, turning the pages of a book. She was finding it difficult to get to sleep tonight, after all the excitement at the circus. When the door swung open, and she recognised who was there, she sat bolt upright only to be pushed roughly down again. Strong arms pinioned her. She could feel the heat of his sweaty hands through the flimsy cotton shift she wore; could smell the strong liquor on his breath. In the flickering candlelight, he loomed over her. She opened her mouth to scream as his face came nearer, then he fell upon her, trapping her with the weight of his body, and she knew instinctively what he intended to do, although such things had never been mentioned at the convent school.
Even as she struggled, but could make no sound, Nancy came rushing in and pounded her attacker furiously on the back. He released h
is grip on Molly, turning to curse the other girl and shake her off, to push her outside and lock the door. Nancy’s fist came up smartly and smacked him on the point of his jaw. Randolph lurched, then fell backwards across Molly’s legs on the bed. Frantically, she pulled herself free and scrambled to the floor.
‘Oh, Nancy, thank you!’ she sobbed hysterically. ‘Is – is he dead?’
She was answered by moaning as Randolph came to his senses, sitting up groggily and rubbing his jaw. He looked puzzled. ‘What did you do that for?’ he muttered.
Nancy actually put her arm round him, not unkindly. ‘Come on, Mr Colton, I’ll put you to bed. He didn’t mean to frighten you, Molly, I’m sure . . . It’s the drink, you see. Will you help me steady him along the corridor? I don’t want him to crash down again and wake Fay up.’
Molly could hardly bring herself to touch him, but she forced herself somehow to propel him along on the other side. He seemed semi-conscious.
‘You go back to my room, Molly, and lock the door,’ Nancy said quietly. ‘I’ll keep watch on him, you listen out for the little one. I’ll knock for you to open up when he’s asleep.’
‘You were marvellous, Nancy,’ Molly whispered shakily. ‘Wherever did you learn to punch like that?’
‘Don’t I have a father and big brothers as gets drunk?’ she asked simply. Together they rolled Randolph on to his bed.
Poor Nancy would not tell Molly that she had, far too often, submitted to the violation she had just prevented her friend from enduring. She added now, ‘It was easy, really. There’s only one of him.’
Molly lay awake for what she imagined to be hours, but Nancy did not return and eventually she fell asleep. Fay, thank goodness, slept through it all.
*
Nancy crept along the corridor to the bathroom where she was wretchedly sick. It always had that effect on her. She washed her face in the basin and fought to compose herself. She had taken in silence the payment exacted for that punch, for Molly’s sake. Colton had all too soon revived.
It was almost dawn when she knocked on the door. Molly opened it cautiously. ‘Are you all right, Nancy?’ she asked apprehensively. She had drifted in and out of sleep herself. Now she wondered why it had taken so long before her friend returned.
‘Quite all right, Molly. But I might as well stay up now, I think. I’ll get dressed. You go back to bed for a while.’ Somehow she managed to keep her voice steady.
‘Randolph . . .?’ Molly asked fearfully.
‘He’s sleeping it off. Don’t worry, Molly, I don’t think he’s really a drinking man.’ Mentally she crossed herself at this lie. ‘It was just that he took advantage of his wife and Mrs Nagel being away . . . They’ll keep him in check in future. It won’t happen again.’ Nancy hoped fervently that this was true.
‘D’you think we ought to tell Alexa about this, Nancy?’
‘No. Nothing happened to you, did it?’ She didn’t want an inquisition. The girl was always blamed in cases like this, or so she thought, not yet knowing Alexa as Molly did. Nancy liked her job so much she didn’t want to leave, be told to go home. Surely Mr Colton would keep his mouth shut if he didn’t want his wife to find out? And there were no bruises that showed, one tiny consolation for her ordeal.
Molly, inexperienced as she was, accepted this advice.
Later, when Nancy carried in the breakfast tray, Molly had already washed and dressed Fay who was full of beans and obviously feeling better this morning.
‘He’s gone off again already,’ Nancy said. ‘Jackson took him to the station, the housekeeper said. I don’t suppose he will remember any of it. Thank you for seeing to Fay.’
‘Oh, I enjoyed it – you’re so quick and efficient, Nancy, I don’t often get the chance nowadays!’ Molly looked covertly at her friend. Thank goodness, she looked and sounded quite normal. Perhaps she was making more of this incident than it warranted, thought Molly. She’d put it out of her mind, as Nancy insisted.
*
Alexa and Cicely returned, a day early, full of the wedding. ‘We didn’t want to play gooseberry to the newly weds!’ Alexa smiled.
‘Excuse me,’ Cicely said, ‘I really must go and change my shoes and put on something more comfortable. I can slouch around while Ran’s not here.’
Fay toddled over to her grandmother. ‘Did you miss me?’ Alexa asked fondly.
‘Did Elfie look blooming?’ Molly asked.
‘She wore a most becoming costume. Frank was complaining, of course. He said Elfie had made a fool of him, let him down, and that I had quite a lot to do with it, too. His sister, marrying like that – and at her age! I hissed in his ear when I got the chance that it was a pity he was such an old grump, and that age had nothing to do with it. You girls obviously coped all right without us, I can see. Yes, Fay, Granny has got something for you in her bag. Just wait a moment while I take off my hat—’
The telephone shrilled and the maid answered it. The call was for Alexa.
While she was gone, Nancy whispered to Molly, giving her hand a little comforting pat: ‘Now remember what I said, please, Molly.’
‘That was the agent, how fortunate we were back.’ Alexa sounded excited. ‘He thinks he has found us just the right property, on a short let – what are you two looking guilty about? I wonder what you really got up to while we were away, eh?’
When Cicely heard the news, she exclaimed, ‘I shall miss you – I’ve been so happy to have you here,’ and dabbed at her eyes.
Nancy thought: I wonder if she realised, when she went into her room, that her husband has been and gone . . .
*
The rented house was not large or sumptuous like the one they had left; it was further downtown, but as Alexa observed: ‘Quite adequate, and we can please ourselves with regard to outings now. Not that Cicely wasn’t kindness itself.’ They cooked for themselves, but a capable daily woman saw to the cleaning and laundry.
Alexa could stay up late when she chose, she thought – as she was tonight, relaxing in the square sitting room with its rather impersonal feel because it was full of the unknown owner’s things. She was catching up on news from home as she re-read the morning post and smoked one of her increasingly rare cigarettes. She wished suddenly that the journeying was behind them, and that she had already handed Fay over, for she knew that it would be a cruel wrench to part with her granddaughter. Her life and priorities, she recognised, had changed unbelievably over this past year.
She glanced up, startled, when the door opened and Nancy ventured into the room. The girl’s face was very pale, which made the splattering of freckles look very prominent, especially as she had combed her blonde hair back off her forehead and wound it into curling rags. Her eyes were shadowed, as if she had lately had little sleep, and she wore a crumpled old gown over a skimpy nightdress. I didn’t think to ‘universally provide’ night attire, Alexa thought with compunction. Nancy’s been very subdued ever since we moved from Cicely’s. I don’t like to pry, but maybe there is something wrong . . . She said now, ‘Is Fay all right, Nancy?’
‘Oh, yes, Mrs Nagel. I just – I just wondered if you could spare me a pill?’
‘Of course.’ Alexa unclasped her handbag and brought out the small box of tablets. ‘Headache?’ she queried.
Nancy sat down suddenly and put her head in her hands, her thin shoulders shaking. Her breath was expelled in little, gasping sobs.
It was obvious to Alexa that she was deeply distressed. Immediately, she was reminded of Lucy sobbing like that after the stupid quarrel that had led to her daughter packing and leaving home. ‘Mummy, you don’t understand, I love Matthew! I want to be with him now because soon he’ll be going away – we don’t have much time . . . ’ How prophetic those words had been. ‘Go, then,’ she’d cried. ‘But don’t expect me to come to your wedding! You’ve only known this chap a couple of months – oh, why did you have to be in the salesroom that day he came to select a new saddle? He’s a soldier, Lucy, his career will a
lways come first.’
‘My dear, it’s not as bad as all that, surely?’ Alexa took a deep breath, determined to put the memories from her. She wondered briefly why Nancy had come to her, rather than to Molly, who no doubt was sitting up in bed writing replies to the letters she had received this morning: one from Serena Kelly’s son with news of the circus, she had volunteered, plus one re-addressed by Frank. It didn’t take much to deduce that this crumpled letter, which Molly had tucked in her pocket, unopened, was from one who was unaware they had moved on: Henning, Alexa conjectured.
‘No.’ Nancy’s voice sounded strangled. ‘It ain’t, Mrs Nagel. I was late you see, and scared stiff, but—’
‘Late?’ Alexa stubbed out her cigarette, cleared her throat. Should she go over to the girl, put an arm round her, comfort her? She added: ‘Ah . . . ’ Then she fetched a tumbler of water from the kitchen, passed it to Nancy and shook two tablets into her hand. ‘Here you are. If that’s all it is, these’ll soon put you right.’ But she guessed there was more to come.
‘I ain’t been a bad girl, you know that, Mrs Nagel. I’ve never even had a young man – not been out on me own since I started work with you.’
‘I do know that, Nancy. Is – is there anything you would like to know, my dear?’ Alexa couldn’t really credit that, coming from a large family, Nancy was unaware of the facts of life.
‘I just got to tell someone . . .’ she wept.
‘Then why not me?’ Alexa asked.
*
‘We must confront him with this,’ she raged a few moments later. ‘He mustn’t be allowed to get away with it! You poor child, suffering such abuse – what kind of man is he? You could well have been pregnant, as you feared. Whatever possessed me to leave you girls by yourselves at Cicely’s?’
Molly's Journey Page 7
