by Neale, Kitty
‘Living with Lorna,’ Penny said at once. ‘And when I got a chance I cooked at school, as the muck they gave you made you want to spit it out. So I’ve had lots of practice. Shall I make a start while you get ready?’
Well, thought Maureen, there’s an unexpected plus. I shan’t have to run out for chips or a kebab if there’s someone around who can actually cook a vegetable. Maybe she’ll be looking after me, rather than the other way round. She shrugged out of her day clothes and pulled a face as she caught sight of herself in her bedroom mirror. All that famously firm flesh was beginning to go south, no matter how many killer workout routines she taught. Perhaps some good home cooking was what she needed.
Maureen brought out her evening outfit – nothing too special, as she never knew when she’d have to run to the rescue of one of the performers. But no harm in showing a bit of cleavage and wearing a bit of sparkle, which she could get away with when teamed with plain black trousers and only moderately high heels. She’d let the girl off the hook tonight and give her the choice of comfortable footwear, but she’d have to get back into the skyscrapers tomorrow.
The smell of cooking from the kitchen was mouth-watering. Following her nose, Maureen made her way into the small room and was astonished. Penny had unearthed the table – little more than an oversized drop-down shelf – and two stools, which Maureen had used to stack post or clothes on. The girl had also found a jam jar and filled it with flowers. ‘I got them from one of the other stall holders,’ she said. ‘He told me the stems had broken and they wouldn’t sell so I could have them. Brighten up the place, don’t they?’
‘Are you telling me my flat needs brightening, you cheeky mare?’ grinned Maureen. ‘It looks great, I must say. I forget what the place looks like when it’s just me here. And it’s very nice to be cooked for. I shall tell Lorna when we ring her later that you’ve paid close attention to all she’s taught you.’
Penny could hardly contain her excitement when she finally stepped through the doors of the Paradise Club that she’d heard so much about. Even though the front of house was almost empty as yet, she was enchanted by the place – the little tables, the candles, the concealed lighting, the posters, the air of barely hidden risqué fun. I’m on the set of Cabaret, she thought. Only it’s real. She approached the stage, taking in the cleverly arranged spotlights and dazzling silver drapes. This was a million miles from Margate or stuffy school plays. Here was where she wanted to be.
‘Here we go!’ said Mark, emerging from the wings. ‘Do you want to stand with me and watch the sound check and last-minute rehearsals for Fifi? She’s one of the new ones and we aren’t sure she’s got it right yet.’
They stood to the side of the auditorium as a young woman in sequinned shorts and corset strode to the microphone and tapped it. ‘One, two, one, two.’ The music started and Fifi sang a little 1950s number, posing and pouting, managing to keep in tune and time. ‘So far, so good,’ hissed Mark. ‘Better than last time anyway.’
Someone in the audience clapped and Fifi smiled and walked off, wiggling her hips as she left the stage. On came another girl, apparently covered in fans.
‘Now watch this,’ said Mark. ‘This is harder than it looks. You need really strong wrists for those things, they’re heavier than you think, and you don’t want to be poking yourself in the eye with the end of one when you’re doing your dance.’
The girl pirouetted to the music, twirling and rearranging her fans, throwing aside her glittery top and yet managing to keep herself covered with a combination of the fans and a gigantic paste-jewellery necklace. As the music finished she turned her back saucily to the audience and raised her fans in the air. ‘Now that’s well judged,’ said Mark solemnly. ‘See, even though we were at the side, we couldn’t see much really, but she made us think we were going to? That’s clever. The really good ones could be wearing anything behind those fans and we wouldn’t know. I tell you, some nights in here they could do with thermals on, even under those spotlights. The manager is dead stingy about the heating. Sorry, shouldn’t be telling you that, it’ll put you off.’
‘Put off?’ said Penny in astonishment. ‘No, never. This is magic. I’ll never get tired of it. What happens now?’
‘The show itself won’t start for another hour or so,’ Mark said, ‘so we’ll make our way backstage and meet some of the others. Did you like Fifi’s outfit? I made that. I’ll show you my work area. By rights I should have my own room but no, the manager’s too mean and I have to make do with a dark corner. Still, it’s my dark corner and I shall show you where it all happens.’ He led the way to a small red door marked ARTISTS ONLY and pushed his way through. Penny followed, thinking that she was getting used to his ways – although he was nothing like anyone she’d ever known in Margate.
At once he was mobbed. ‘Mark, look, the hook’s come off this thing, will you fix it?’ ‘Help, Mark, my gloves don’t match, someone’s had one of mine and I need another long scarlet one.’ ‘Mark, these shorts don’t fit, they’ve split up the back.’
‘Should have stayed off the cake then, shouldn’t you, darling?’ Mark said, leading Penny away from the crowd. ‘They drive me mad, always panicking, never able to lift a needle for themselves. And that last one, she keeps insisting I give her size eights when anyone can see she needs twelves. And who wants to see a size eight arse up there? Not most of the punters we get in here, that’s for certain.’ He stopped by a clothes rail full of silk, satin and feathered creations. ‘These are mine. Well, the girls wear them, obviously, I’d look a bit odd, but I designed them.’
‘They’re lovely,’ said Penny, meaning it, holding up a fitted basque in black and silver. ‘How do you breathe in this though?’
‘It doesn’t stay on for long, dear,’ said Mark archly. ‘It’s very much for show. Now this,’ he held up a black lycra halterneck with diamanté edging, ‘this, you can move in and yet look completely enticing. We’ll get one made for you. This would be for someone shorter.’
‘I would absolutely love one of those,’ breathed Penny, thinking that Madonna herself wouldn’t turn down something like that.
‘And you shall have one, just as soon as you get good enough to dance with confidence in five-inch heels,’ promised Mark. ‘Now, let me introduce you to the manager. He knows you’re joining us, so you don’t have to say anything. In fact, the less the better.’
‘Why?’ demanded Penny, but Mark shook his head.
‘Here he comes now. Mr Prescott! I’d like you to meet Penny, who’s going to be joining the dancers soon.’
‘Penny,’ said the rather florid-faced middle-aged man. ‘Yes, I’ve heard about you. Welcome. Maureen’s friend aren’t you – no, niece, is it?’
‘Almost,’ said Penny, but before she could explain further the man had smiled vaguely and moved off.
‘Was that it?’ she asked Mark.
‘That’s all you want to have to do with him,’ Mark said. ‘He hasn’t got where he is today by being nice to people. A word of warning. He really, really doesn’t like dancers going out with punters. Yes, I know some of them do it, but take it from me, he doesn’t approve at all, and you don’t want him to catch you out. Promise me?’
‘I’m not interested,’ Penny replied at once. ‘I’ve got a career to make. There’s no time for any of that.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gradually Penny got into a routine; going to dance classes in the morning, meeting Michelle, Juliet or Mark afterwards, getting to know the market and the stall holders, exploring the rest of Soho with its cafés, delicatessens and odd shops that seemed to be found nowhere else. ‘There’s even one for left-handed people,’ she told Lorna, in one of her regular calls to Margate.
‘Not sure that’s of much use to you,’ Lorna said doubtfully. ‘What have you been eating? Have you been feeding yourself properly?’
‘Feeding myself and Maureen,’ Penny assured her. ‘Honestly, Lorna, she’s been great but she can’t cook a
t all. She’d have takeaways all the time if I didn’t stop her. But there’s a gorgeous shop just round the corner run by an Italian family and they do all sorts of things you’d approve of. Fresh pasta! With pumpkin in it! I nearly died the first time I had it, it was so good. I’ve missed the real pumpkin season so I can’t really try to make it myself, but maybe next year.’
‘You are taking the cooking seriously, then,’ said Lorna, secretly delighted. ‘But isn’t your kitchen the size of a postage stamp?’
‘It’s not so bad when you get used to it,’ Penny said. ‘I got Mark to put up some more shelves and sorted out loads of stuff that really belongs in the bathroom or bedrooms, and it turns out it’s fine if you keep tidying up after yourself.’
‘Now I am impressed,’ laughed Lorna. ‘When did you start being so tidy? Not that I’m complaining,’ she added hastily. ‘Just surprised, that’s all.’
Michelle was carefully painting her nails in the dressing room, matching the colour to the exact shade of her costume. ‘What do you think?’ she asked as Juliet pulled up a chair. ‘Will this do?’
‘Weren’t you wearing long gloves?’ Juliet asked. ‘Won’t this be a waste of time?’
‘Yes, but they’re fingerless,’ Michelle told her, blowing on the nails to help them dry. ‘Anyway I want to look good for later. I’m seeing Rudolfo.’
Juliet looked up in disgust. ‘Not again. He’s really sleazy. Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with him. What do you find to talk about?’
‘We don’t exactly bother with much talking,’ Michelle grinned. ‘Though he has told me about all the businesses he owns back in Italy. Or at least I think that’s what he was saying. He’s loaded, and he treats me to all sorts. You may mock, but I’m having a good time.’
‘And that’s all that matters?’ asked Juliet, getting out her make-up bag.
‘No, silly,’ said Michelle. ‘It’s having a good time with someone who’s loaded that counts. You could have a plain old good time with Tony and Angelo from the café but what would be the point?’
‘At least you’d know who they were and that they have jobs,’ Juliet pointed out. ‘You don’t know anything about Rudolfo except for what he tells you, and even then you aren’t sure. He could be an axe-wielding maniac for all you know.’
‘Rich axe-wielding maniac though,’ Michelle shot back. Then she relented. ‘Look, I can take care of myself. Don’t you worry about me. You don’t last long in Bow if you’re wet behind the ears.’ She paused, then changed the subject. ‘Did Penny ask you round for a meal at Maureen’s place? She spoke to me earlier. She’s taken to this Soho life like a duck to water and wants to show off all these new ingredients she’s come across. So I don’t think it’ll be chicken and chips. I’m definitely going.’
‘Yes,’ said Juliet, delicately applying mascara to make her already stunning eyes look enormous. ‘It sounds like fun. I’m desperate to see Maureen’s flat because as long as I’ve known her she’s never mentioned anything except takeaways – that’s when she wasn’t being wined and dined by her latest admirer. So it should be a very interesting evening. God, I wish they’d put in some decent lights. How am I expected to look right when everything’s fifteen watt? Cheapskates.’
Penny was anxiously studying the makeshift table in the kitchen. She’d dragged the small table from the hall to add on to the end of the tiny wall-mounted one, and brought through the chairs from her bedroom and Maureen’s. She wasn’t convinced everyone would fit, but perhaps she could eat from a tray on her knees, perched on the nearby sofa. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked Mark along as well, but he’d been so kind to her ever since she’d come to London, and besides, he was so thin, it made her want to feed him. Penny had got over her shock at first meeting him and now she felt she could tell him anything.
Maureen had turned down the invitation to join them. ‘Thanks but no,’ she’d said. ‘You young people don’t want me breathing down your necks. And besides, I’ve had another offer.’ She winked. ‘We’ll see how it goes but it won’t be a dull evening, that’s for sure. Just be sure to leave me some milk for the morning – that’s if I make it home.’
So Penny was left alone to arrange the flat as she wanted to, adding candles and the odd sprig of holly to make it more seasonal. Now all she had to do was toss the salad, boil the water for the pasta and reheat the sauce she’d made earlier. As long as nobody turned around too quickly, there should just about be room.
Gazing out of the window, she could see the street below in full flow. It was never quiet, no matter what time it was. Even though it was dark, the bright lights from the bars, cafés and clubs lit up the pavements, and taxis hooted as heedless pedestrians stepped out in front of them. One particularly loud hoot caught her attention and she wasn’t surprised to see the cause of it was Michelle, sashaying along in the road, waving cheerfully at the furious cabbie. She was followed by the stick-thin figure of Mark, recognisable even from here by his haircut, and finally by Juliet, the only one to look as she crossed the road. Penny grinned to herself as she headed down to the front door to let them in.
‘So this is where you’ve landed,’ cried Michelle. ‘Very nice, very close to everywhere. Up how many flights? No, that’s fine. Look, if I can dance night after night in those shoes and then climb up to the studio, this is a piece of cake. Here, have this. Rudolfo says it’s wonderful.’
‘Oh Rudolfo says, Rudolfo says,’ chorused Mark as he followed them up and into the flat. ‘It must be right if Rudolfo says so.’
‘Let me see what he’s recommended,’ commanded Juliet, as Penny took their coats and ushered them through. ‘Oh, I take it back, actually that is rather good. Give me the corkscrew and we’ll let it breathe. Meanwhile, let’s have some of this.’ She brought out a bottle of sparkling wine from her bag. ‘At least on a night like this you don’t have to worry about it getting warm on the way here. Have you any glasses, Penny?’
Penny passed her the corkscrew. ‘Not matching ones, no, but these’ll do.’ There were no more than two matching items of anything in the flat, as if Maureen had never bothered entertaining more than one person at a time.
‘Cheers,’ said Michelle, clinking her glass to the others in turn. ‘Happy days, my lovelies. You’ve done this place up real nice, Penny, or was it like this before?’
‘Well, some of it was me,’ said Penny, going back to the cooker and igniting the two rings.
‘Most of it was you,’ said Mark. ‘Let’s face it, Maureen’s not one for staying in. Her priorities lie elsewhere. You’ve done wonders.’
‘I like doing it,’ said Penny, stirring the sauce.
‘You’re going to make some man a proper little wife,’ Mark teased. ‘When you give up the stage and all that malarkey, you’ll be a right little homemaker.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Juliet. ‘It’s perfectly possible to have a decent flat and carry on a career. You won’t catch me living in squalor while I rise to stardom. Just you watch.’
‘Hark at you,’ said Michelle. ‘Well, I’ll happily give it up if the right man makes me a decent offer. Or an indecent one, I don’t really care. It’s all right for you, you wouldn’t know squalor if it bit you.’
‘So how was Rudolfo?’ asked Penny. ‘Come over to the table, it’s nearly ready.’
‘He was as generous as always,’ Michelle told them as they took their seats, squashing in so they could all fit. ‘We went to that new place just off Soho Square where all the actors go after their shows. He knows how to give a girl a good time.’
‘As long as you give him a good time in return,’ snapped Juliet.
‘And what man wouldn’t want to be seen out with me?’ asked Michelle. ‘It works both ways. Though we didn’t go on anywhere special last night as his friend joined us. Silvio. Actually I got the idea that he’d like me to bring a friend along next time. Any takers? Penny?’
‘No, no and no,’ said Juliet. ‘If you want to date these dodgy men we c
an’t stop you but don’t try and drag any of us into it.’
‘Nice restaurants, though,’ Michelle reminded her.
‘Thanks but no thanks,’ said Penny, handing round the food. ‘Can you fit all the plates in all right? No, I’m not interested in men. If I want good food I’ll learn to cook it. This okay for everyone?’
‘It’s bloody lovely,’ said Michelle. ‘Good as that place we went last night. Did you do it all?’
‘I got the fresh pumpkin pasta from that little place round the corner. You know, Lina Stores,’ said Penny, ‘but I did the sauce myself with stuff from the market. Jimmy who does the vegetable stall advised me. He’s brilliant, he tells you what you need and how to cook it and what goes with what.’
‘There you go, Michelle,’ grinned Mark. ‘You can get top-class food right on your doorstep and no need to go out with sleazeballs.’
‘Talking of sleazeballs,’ said Michelle, who was tired of being picked on, ‘how’s your latest? The charming Brian, wasn’t it?’
‘Don’t talk to me about him,’ groaned Mark. ‘He was a disaster. Couldn’t understand why I had to work evenings, jealous if I so much as said hello to another man. So that’s over before it really started. It’s so unfair, he seemed so fun on the first date, but it didn’t last five minutes after that.’ He shrugged. ‘You women have it easy.’
‘Hardly,’ said Juliet.
‘Well, you have it easy,’ Michelle went on. ‘You get hard up, you can always call on Daddy’s money.’
‘Actually,’ said Juliet, putting down her fork, ‘I don’t take a penny from him. Nor do I intend to. I earn my own keep. Obviously he doesn’t like what I do but I’m proud of it, and I pay my own way. So less of this having a go at me for being rich, please.’
‘I’m not blaming you,’ said Michelle. ‘You can’t help what family you’re born into. I’d love to have a rich father. But since mine isn’t, I’ll settle for a rich sugar daddy or even better, a rich husband, to keep me in style. This paying your own way is overrated. It’s bloody hard work for a start.’
