The Runaway Daughter

by Joanna Rees

  ‘Each one is quite fiddly,’ Vita said. ‘But I’m doing my best to make sure each one fits the wearer well.’

  ‘I absolutely love mine,’ Nancy went on. ‘You can’t get a bigger endorsement than that. You know how fussy I am. This is the modern way.’

  Lulu gave her a wry smile. ‘As you well know, I cut my jackets and dresses to minimize too large a movement.’

  ‘But we want to move,’ Vita said. ‘That’s what us girls at the Zip Club do all day. And we want to feel free – and yet safe while we do it.’

  Nancy pulled Vita up from where she was sitting. ‘Let’s show her.’

  Lulu laughed and rubbed the side of her face, as Nancy and Vita began a small part of their routine. Mr Wild yapped approvingly. Nancy picked him up and sat back down.

  ‘Poor Vita was either strapped in tight or jiggling all over the place, before she made her secret brassiere,’ Nancy said. ‘Now look at her.’

  ‘I see your point, Nancy,’ Lulu laughed. ‘But my ladies are not dancing every night in a club.’

  ‘But they might do. If they had the right support. And don’t you think they’ll want a little of the freedom of the Zip Club girls?’

  Lulu put her hands up in defence. She sighed heavily. ‘I surrender! I’ll give you a trial. Genevieve, my assistant, will give you the measurements of five of the ladies that I’m seeing next week. Bring me five brassieres. If any of my customers like them, then I shall commission you properly to make more and I’ll sell them in the shop. And pay you, of course.’

  Nancy stuck out her bottom lip. ‘You’re expecting poor Vita to work on spec?’

  ‘I absolutely am. Yes, Nancy. You Americans!’

  ‘I’m so very grateful,’ Vita said. ‘Honestly.’

  ‘Let’s hope Lance Kenton isn’t such a meanie,’ Nancy said to Mr Wild.

  Lulu turned her head. ‘Lance Kenton? You mean from W&T?’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I tell you?’ Nancy said. ‘W&T are simply all over Vita’s bras.’

  Vita was about to contradict her, but Nancy’s look told her to be quiet, as they got up to leave. And, as Lulu shook her hand, Vita knew that Nancy’s tactic had worked.

  ‘You are the best saleswoman,’ Vita whispered to her.

  ‘I know. Aren’t we just the dream-team?’

  And once again Vita felt a sickening pang of sadness when she thought about Nancy leaving for Paris.

  59

  The Telephone Call

  Clement leant on his stick in the dark hallway and pressed the cold black Bakelite of the telephone receiver against his ear. The call from Rawlings had interrupted their breakfast.

  ‘You think it could be her?’ he asked again. The line crackled disconcertingly. He knew that Martha was probably listening in.

  ‘She fits the description perfectly. I have the address here. I’ve seen her entering the building. Shall I call the police? Ask them to escort her home?’ Rawlings asked.

  Clement felt hope bursting in his chest at the prospect of trapping his sister. ‘No. No, that won’t be necessary. Stay there and keep an eye on her. Follow her and find out where she goes. I’ll come myself to collect her.’

  The door to the drawing room opened as he put down the receiver, and Clement knew straight away that his mother had heard his conversation.

  ‘Is it good news, dear?’ she asked tentatively. She had a canary in her hand and was petting its yellow feathers. It chirruped loudly, as if it were about to fly away, but his mother grabbed it and held it tight.

  ‘She’s been found,’ Clement said, stumping down the hallway towards the stairs. ‘I’m going to get her.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘London.’

  ‘London?’ Theresa Darton sounded almost excited. ‘All that way?’

  Clement turned on his mother, seeing something odd in her expression. It was almost as if she were proud, rather than surprised, that Anna had made it so far.

  ‘Yes, but I’m bringing her home. And then she’ll be sorry for making us all worry so.’

  60

  A Summons From Mr Connelly

  ‘There,’ Vita said, poking her tongue out and twisting the last bit of wire into the feather spray that she’d created for tonight’s costumes for the show. She held it out to Percy, who took it from her and pinned it onto the back of Edith’s bodice.

  ‘What are they supposed to be?’ Edith asked, suspiciously.

  Vita didn’t tell her the design for the new routine had been inspired by Mystic Alice’s parrot. Since Jerome had played them the jazzy Latin American number to which they were to choreograph their performance, the theme had taken on a life of its own.

  ‘Latin American.’

  ‘I look like a bird,’ Edith said disparagingly.

  ‘That’s the point. Higher,’ Vita said, ‘so that it plumes out behind, here.’ She gestured to Edith’s head.

  ‘I think it looks smashing,’ Percy said, positioning it correctly. ‘Oh, Vita, you are so clever. They look so flamboyant. If I’m not careful, you’ll have my job.’

  ‘Who’s getting whose job?’ Nancy asked, walking in and grabbing her dancing shoes. ‘Oh . . . are these for tonight?’ she said, distracted by Edith, who was looking cautiously at herself in the mirror. ‘They’re quite something. Do we all get one?’ Edith gave her a look that implied that she thought Nancy was being sarcastic. Nancy eyeballed her in the mirror. ‘I mean it. You could say something nice, for once.’

  ‘Thank you, Percy,’ Edith said in a conciliatory tone.

  ‘All Vita’s idea,’ Percy said, putting his hands up. ‘I didn’t think she’d pull it off in time. This girl sure can work miracles.’

  ‘Well, I nearly didn’t,’ Vita laughed. ‘I’ve only had two hours’ sleep. After the show I’m going straight back to Mrs Bell’s. It’s hard enough doing the costumes, but with the brassieres for Lulu, too, I’m done in.’

  She noticed Edith stiffen. She’d made no secret of the fact that she didn’t approve of Vita’s ‘little cottage industry’, as she called it. She was annoyed that the girls were so excited about it.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re wasting your time, Vita,’ she said, leaning forward to check her lipstick in the mirror. ‘Nobody is ever going to take you, or your so-called “business”, seriously.’ She gave a derisory snort and then left the room, her tail-feathers quivering.

  ‘She’s just jealous,’ Percy said, but Vita felt Edith’s words pinch. Edith was right. Who was ever going to take her seriously? It was all very well for Nancy to flounce around, expecting everyone to do her favours, but in the real world business didn’t work like that.

  In the wings, Edith became even more riled when Jack Connelly appraised the dancing girls.

  ‘Wonderful,’ he said, looking genuinely impressed. ‘Well done, Vita. Very imaginative.’

  Edith scowled, but Vita smiled back at her. It was annoying that she was always so superior. She had nothing to be so snarky about, Vita thought. Things were clearly going well between Edith and Mr Connelly, and she had been promoted to head up the new cabaret they were rehearsing.

  ‘I want you all out front afterwards. No excuses,’ he added, pointing his cigar at them. ‘There’s some admirers of yours, who have specifically asked for you, Vita.’

  ‘Oh?’ she said, pulling a face at Jane, but there was no time to ask anything more, as they received their cue to get onstage.

  Mr Connelly slapped Edith’s bottom as they danced past.

  ‘I’d never let a man play my emotions like that,’ Jane whispered.

  ‘Me neither,’ Vita agreed. ‘Who needs men?’

  61

  Some New Admirers

  The routine was a hit, judging by the applause in the club, but it took the last vestiges of Vita’s energy. After the show she could hardly be bothered to take off her stage make-up, flinging on her oldest dress in the dressing room. She dragged her feet as she followed Nancy back into the club.

  ‘I�
��m so tired,’ she moaned. ‘I don’t want to meet anyone.’

  ‘Oh, buck up,’ Nancy said with a grin. ‘You can sleep when you’re dead. Let’s see what old Connelly wants, and then we’ll hop in a cab to “Les A”.’

  Out in the club, Jack Connelly was installed in a red leather booth at the back, an ice-bucket housing two bottles of champagne on the table in front of him. Edith, who had glammed up into a white dress after tonight’s show, sat demurely beside him, like the cat who’d got the cream. Vita wished now that she’d made more of an effort with her appearance.

  The other guests had their backs to her, but they took their cue from Jack Connelly, who stood up, all false bonhomie, as he beckoned them forward.

  ‘There you are. Girls, I’d like you to meet some of your new admirers. This is Mr Archie Fenwick and—’

  But Vita didn’t hear the rest. Because as soon as he turned round, she knew it was him. The man from the Café de Paris.

  She stared, tongue-tied for a moment, feeling the weirdest sensation in her stomach, and a tugging inside her that she hadn’t felt since she’d been in the bath with Nancy. She felt herself blushing.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, and for a second it was as if the rest of the club faded and there was only his face, his voice . . . his smile. He had those amazing eyes that she’d been so drawn to the first time she’d seen him, and high cheekbones, with a mole halfway up the left side. But it was his mouth that most intrigued her. She had to deliberately stop staring at his lips.

  ‘Well, introduce yourself,’ Mr Connelly said with a laugh.

  ‘I’m Verity. Verity Casey,’ she said, but her voice sounded strange as he took her hand and shook it.

  ‘Would you care to dance, Miss Casey?’ Mr Fenwick said, not letting go of her hand. She hadn’t even been aware of the music, but now he led her away from the others towards the dance floor and pulled her effortlessly into his arms to join the crowd dancing the slow foxtrot.

  He was a confident dancer, but then someone like him must have had lots of practice, Vita reasoned, as he guided her round the dance floor. She thought briefly of Annabelle Morton’s party and of the countless men she’d met there, but none of them had been anywhere near as dashing as Archie Fenwick. She thought, too, of the woman he’d seen her with at the Café de Paris. Surely he must be engaged? How could such a catch be single?

  She felt furious with herself that she hadn’t worn her green dress, instead of this awful dowdy grey one. And fixed her make-up.

  ‘I’ve seen you before,’ he said.

  ‘I know. But we’ve never met.’

  ‘It feels like we have. But then I’ve been to see you three times in the past week.’

  He said it so matter-of-factly that Vita laughed. She pulled back to look up fully into his face. ‘Three times?’

  ‘Of course. When I realized it was you. I haven’t been able to stop myself.’

  Was he teasing her? Surely he was. But then he smiled shyly down at her and she could see that he meant it.

  ‘I would hazard that I could give your routine a go myself.’

  ‘I’m flattered,’ she frowned. ‘I think . . .’

  He smiled and turned her round in his arms.

  ‘You’ve really been looking for me?’ she checked.

  ‘Ever since I saw you on that staircase I’ve been trying to find you amongst all the dancing girls in London. I overheard you talking to your friend, you see.’

  He looked at his hand around hers, as if he were holding the most precious thing.

  ‘I’m sure there are better shows in town,’ she said.

  ‘That may well be, but they don’t have you in them.’

  She bit her lip, amazed at his easy compliment. He actually meant it.

  ‘Well, you’ve found me now.’

  ‘Yes, I have,’ he said, and when he smiled, she saw what he must have looked like as a boy.

  And still the fluttering inside her continued – and seemed to increase with each moment that she was in his arms. Nobody had ever cared enough about her to track her down. Or to come and see her. She let this new, unsettling sensation seep into her. If Archie Fenwick had been able to find her so easily, then what would happen if her parents started looking? She’d been convinced that she’d been hiding cleverly, but what if she hadn’t?

  They danced further around the dance floor, but the song was coming to an end.

  ‘Would it be terrible if I told you a secret?’ he said.

  ‘You can tell me anything you want,’ she said lightly, but her heart sang at the thought that he’d want to share anything at all with her.

  The music stopped briefly, as the band prepared for the next number. She stayed in his arms, his hand around hers. Everyone was moving around them, but they remained quite still.

  ‘Well, the thing is—’

  ‘Oh, Vita, it’s our favourite!’ Nancy interrupted them as the band struck up with ‘Baby Face’. She tugged at Vita’s arm, pulling her away from Archie before shouting at him, ‘It’s our song.’

  Vita was jolted away, feeling horribly torn. She couldn’t blame Nancy – after all, this was one of their dances – but as Nancy lifted up her leg now in a high kick and then turned to bump her hips provocatively with Vita, she felt embarrassed.

  ‘“You got the cutest little baby face”,’ Nancy sang, but instead of joining in, Vita watched as Archie took a step back away from the dance floor.

  She wondered if he was already regretting how much he’d told her. She could see him thinking that the person he’d thought she was didn’t match up to the brazen dancing girl before him. She smiled her best showgirl smile at him, but he didn’t smile back; instead he looked down at his shoes.

  Nancy looked confused, too. Her eyebrows knitted together as Vita turned to her. ‘Come on, kiddo.’ She gave Vita a quizzical look, putting extra fervour into her steps.

  She had no choice, Vita realized, smiling at Nancy and putting some effort into the dance, but her heart wasn’t in it. She could see Archie turn his back and walk away from the dance floor.

  What was his secret? What had he been about to say? Something about them? Something about his feelings towards her? She was sure of it, but the moment was gone and it was as if a barrier had gone up between them.

  She tried to look for him, but then she saw his head near the back of the crowd. Was he heading towards the door? Was he leaving?

  ‘Oh, I do love this one,’ Nancy said. She blew a kiss to Jerome, who was conducting the band, and Vita wondered meanly if Nancy had told him to play their song, just to get her away from Archie.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ Vita told Nancy.

  ‘Go where? Come on, stay.’

  ‘Just a minute,’ Vita said, rushing through the dancers and the crush of bodies. She saw the back of a man’s head – it must be Archie – as he made his way up the steps towards the doorway.

  ‘Mr Fenwick,’ she called. ‘Wait . . .’

  She caught up with him, and he leant in towards her. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Casey,’ he yelled over the music. ‘I have just seen the time. I have to go.’

  ‘You have to go?’ she asked. ‘But—’

  ‘It was so nice seeing you again.’

  He squeezed the top of her arm, hardly meeting her eye, and then ran two at a time up the steps to the door, and Vita was left looking at the space where he’d been. She thought of following him, but then he hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. Away from her.

  Deflated, she tried to smile as Nancy caught her eye and beckoned her back to the dance floor, but instead she went back to the table where Mr Connelly and Edith were.

  ‘Who on earth was that man you were dancing with?’ Nancy asked, catching up with her at the back booth, out of breath and brushing down the ruffled sequins on the front of her dress. ‘He looked frightfully serious.’

  ‘Archie Fenwick,’ Edith said, smugly. ‘His family used to own half of Gloucestershire, apparently. He’s one of those Eton ty
pes. Part of that set.’

  Her tone and the sideways look she now threw at Vita made it clear that she thought being an Eton type made Archie way out of Vita’s league.

  ‘What set?’

  ‘You know the type. They always use people.’

  Vita immediately felt riled. She was annoyed at Edith’s assumption that Archie was using her in some way. Just because he was wealthy. He certainly hadn’t seemed like any sort of ‘type’ at all.

  ‘He seemed to have the hots for you,’ Nancy said, nudging her in the ribs.

  And you ruined it, Vita wanted to snap.

  ‘Anyway, if he’s here, then you know he’s probably after one thing,’ Edith said.

  That was rich, coming from her! She had no problem flaunting her relationship with Mr Connelly. She had no right to imply that Vita or any of the other girls were loose.

  Vita excused herself and nodded at Nancy to join her at the bar. She didn’t want to listen to Edith’s opinions about Archie Fenwick. She wanted to hold on to everything he’d said and the feeling she’d had when she was in his arms. But why had he left her?

  62

  Perfect Seams

  In Percy’s bedroom, Vita examined in the mirror the bags under her eyes and smudged away last night’s make-up from below them. They had stayed late at the club – Vita hoping all the time that Archie would come back. But he hadn’t and she’d drunk far too much, succumbing to a few dabs of Nancy’s ‘marching powder’ in order to stay awake.

  She felt soiled now, her flagrant partying ways at odds with the kind of nice girl she wanted to be for Archie, but Nancy had been very persuasive.

  Vita folded her arms and looked out of the window at the white sky. She wondered what Archie was doing right now. Whether he was even in London. Whether he was looking out at the same clouds. Had he thought of her at all since he’d walked out of the Zip?

  She couldn’t stop herself picking over their meeting again and again. If he’d gone to all that trouble to find her, why had he left so soon? He’d obviously been annoyed that Nancy had interrupted them, but it was most odd. They’d only been dancing. Everyone else seemed to love the exhibition they made of themselves. So why had Archie been so unimpressed?