by Neale, Kitty
‘Happily, Dave, happily,’ said Maureen, and headed back to check on Michelle.
Penny threw one of the oranges across the room in frustration. ‘Do you mean he never wants me back?’ she demanded. ‘After all that work I’ve done, and all the time you spent training me? And all the costumes Mark made? But I love dancing and I’m good at it. I really am. What’s he playing at?’
‘You are good, no one’s saying you aren’t,’ Maureen soothed her. ‘But you must see it’ll be less risky if you aren’t up on stage at the moment. I’m sure everything will be fine but we ought to be as careful as we can. He still wants you to work for him, you won’t be out of pocket. You can still earn your keep. You’ll just be behind the scenes, that’s all.’
Penny slumped back in her chair. ‘I don’t know what to do. I can’t think straight, I hardly slept, even with Mark here. I’m frightened. I know I’m being silly and they probably won’t trace anything back to me but what if they do? But if they don’t, then I’ll have stopped dancing for nothing. Oh God, why did he have to lie to me? Why wasn’t he from the Mexican embassy? It was going to be perfect and now it’s all spoilt.’
Maureen let her rant, knowing there wasn’t much choice. Even if Dave hadn’t forbidden the girl to go on tonight, she herself would have put a stop to it. ‘Look, it needn’t be for ever,’ she said. ‘Give it a while. See what working in the office is like. You might like translating the tourist leaflets. Test out your skills. Bet they never gave you anything like that to write about at school.’
Penny managed a small smile. ‘You’re right, they didn’t. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. Okay, I’ll try it. But I don’t want Prescott to think I’ve given up.’
‘He won’t,’ Maureen assured her. ‘He owes us big time. He knows how lucky it was that it was you who overheard, not one of the others. And that you were quick-witted enough to get out of it. Trust me, you’ve gone up in his estimation, and that’s a bloody hard thing to do.’
Penny pulled a face. It didn’t seem like much of a consolation. ‘I’m going to wander down to say thanks to Jimmy. Juliet said he wouldn’t take any money for these and they’re gorgeous. Try one.’
She passed Maureen an orange as she went out of the room, grabbed her coat and went downstairs.
Jimmy was beginning to pack away his stall for the evening, tipping the fruit out of the bowls and into crates before loading them on a big metal trolley. ‘Hello, my lovely,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘Feeling better? Out for a little fresh air?’
‘Call this fresh?’ she said, pretending to sniff. ‘In Margate we have proper fresh air, and it comes at you at high speed all the way from France. Not this polluted muck.’
‘Mind who you’re calling muck,’ said Jimmy. ‘Those oranges did the trick, did they?’
‘Yes, that’s why I came down,’ she said, serious now. ‘I wanted to thank you. Made me feel better at once. That was really kind.’
Jimmy smiled from ear to ear. ‘Then that’s all the payment I need. See this young lady here, John? The one her friend said was at death’s door? She’s a testament to the power of good fruit. She’s right as rain now.’
‘Oh, you’re the one who loves Spain,’ said the dark-haired man. Penny couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. Just what she didn’t want right now. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m John, and Jimmy here knows my dad. I went to Spain for work a few months ago and had a great time.’
‘Oh,’ she said. Wonderful, she thought. A few days ago I’d have been really excited to be talking to a good-looking man who had an interest in Spain. Now that’s the last thing I need. ‘I’m Penny,’ she muttered.
‘John’s dad was on the market down in Battersea for years,’ Jimmy went on, apparently not noticing she wasn’t very interested. ‘A diamond, he was. Semi-retired now. That’s what I ought to be thinking of doing, but I’m too dedicated to the job.’ He winked at her. ‘See, you need somebody to keep an eye on you, feed you up a bit.’
‘You’re too good to me, Jimmy,’ she said, attempting a laugh. ‘I’ve got to go, I’ve left Maureen upstairs and she’s got to tell me about my new job.’
‘Anything exciting?’ asked Jimmy, picking up another bowl.
‘Using my Spanish,’ she said, turning to go. The two men exchanged approving looks. ‘Thanks again, Jimmy. See ya.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Penny found she didn’t mind working in the office. The hours were more regular and it was less hard on the feet. She hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time but they had begun to hurt towards the end of the final routine. The job itself wasn’t difficult. She was more fluent than she’d thought and finding the right words to describe what went on at the Paradise Club made her brain work for the first time in ages.
The worst bit was everyone asking why. Maureen put it about that she was too young to be on stage and someone had reported her. Several dancers knew that she was only sixteen and had been seen drinking alcohol in the bar, so that made some kind of sense. Frankie backed this up and said he didn’t want to be in trouble but how could he turn down a pretty dancer in front of the punters? So having her behind the scenes was accepted by everyone for the time being.
Michelle’s absence was harder to explain, as she’d had to disappear completely until her bruises and cuts healed. Again, Maureen tried to cover for her by saying her mother was ill and she’d gone back to the East End to look after her. Quite a few of the cast and crew commented that the girl had never shown much interest in her family’s welfare before and didn’t she have loads of sisters who could do the job equally well, if not better? Juliet stood up for her, saying that they didn’t know Michelle like she did and she was actually devoted to her family underneath her good-time exterior.
Juliet’s own secret remained unspoken after that fateful night. Maureen kept her confidence and while Penny and Mark still wondered about their friend’s change of attitude, they couldn’t pin it on anything. In fact it was Juliet who suffered from the new arrangements the most.
‘It’s a bloody bore actually,’ she complained to Penny and Mark early one evening as she was getting ready to start and Penny was finishing her own day’s work. ‘Without you two in the line I’ve no one to talk to. They’re completely empty-headed, especially the replacements. God, I hope they’re temporary. Heaven only knows where Maureen found them.’
‘One’s Fifi’s cousin,’ Mark said, straightening a silk top on its hanger, ‘the redhead, that is. She told me when I had her in for a fitting.’
‘Thanks, well, I’ll try not to be rude about her in front of Fifi as God knows she’s touchy enough already,’ groaned Juliet, ‘but it’ll be hard. The sooner Michelle gets back the better.’
‘Maybe she’s enjoying spending some time with her family,’ suggested Penny. ‘Having a bit of a rest, getting looked after.’
‘From what she always said about them, it didn’t sound very restful,’ sighed Juliet. ‘She’ll probably be driving them mad, complaining about how bored she is. Okay, I’d better start make-up and doing something about this hair. Mark, are you owed any favours with that stylist friend of yours at the moment? I could do with a cut soon.’
She and Mark wandered off, earnestly discussing whether she should try a different style, leaving Penny to pack her bag and leave the club while it was still daylight.
Penny was in no hurry to get back to the flat and wandered aimlessly along, staring in the windows, waving at the shopkeepers she knew. They were all much livelier than Mrs Manning, who would have thrown up her hands in horror at some of the customers around here. She realised how much she had changed in her months in Soho, and how sheltered she’d been in Margate, even though she’d thought she knew it all. There had been the close escape of the fire, the sheer exhaustion of getting fit and good enough to appear on stage, learning to look after herself, putting on a smiling face and dancing, even if she felt off-colour. There had been the mixing with people from all walks of life.
And of course there had been Eduardo. Penny no longer walked around glancing over her shoulder, checking in shopfront reflections, wondering if he or one of his friends was going to come for her. Dave had hinted that matters had been taken care of and that none of them were likely to show their faces in central London again.
She told herself not to be so childish and to get over it, but she had felt terribly let down. He had seemed so lovely. How could she have been fooled so completely? She didn’t like to talk about it because she felt rather stupid for falling for him, but he’d appreciated her in a way nobody else had. He’d made her feel like a woman, not a naïve, gawky girl. But he had been a criminal. It was too much to take in. When she thought of all the hopes she’d had that evening, she cringed in embarrassment. Well, she wouldn’t be fooled that way again.
She made her way to the Italian deli that sold its own fresh pasta, and decided to cook herself a decent meal that evening. She bought extra so that she could make some for Maureen to eat when she got in, whenever that might be. She saw less of her now she wasn’t going to dance classes in the daytime and Maureen was out most evenings, either at the club or with Stuart. But the woman would still appreciate a plate of home-cooked food to heat up.
She might just have time to find one or two of the veg stalls open, so she turned the corner into Berwick Street. Jimmy had packed up for the evening but one of the others hadn’t finished serving, so she hurried to buy some tomatoes and peppers. That’ll do, she thought.
‘Deserting Jimmy’s stall?’ asked a voice at her shoulder, and she turned to find the dark-haired man she’d met when she’d gone to thank Jimmy for the oranges. He was grinning broadly, which annoyed her.
‘Not a bit,’ she said. ‘But some of us have to work all day and then buy our veg when we can. I can’t be leaving my desk to go out shopping, my boss would go spare.’
‘Quite right,’ he said. ‘Do you remember me? I’m John.’
‘And your dad is one of Jimmy’s mates from Battersea,’ she said. ‘Yes, I remember.’ All she really wanted to do was to get home and start cooking, but she forced herself to be civil. No sense in offending one of Jimmy’s friends, as the stall holder had been so kind to her. She registered again that he was very good-looking, even though that was of no interest to her any more.
‘What brings you here, as he’s already packed up?’ she asked.
‘Oh, I wasn’t here to see him,’ said John, pushing his hair out of his eyes. ‘I’m here for work. I had a meeting nearby and walked this way on the off-chance he’d be here, but I’ve missed him. But I’ll be up this way again so maybe I’ll catch him then.’
‘Right,’ Penny said, casting around for something to say. ‘What do you do, then?’
‘I’m a photographer,’ he said, and she noticed the camera bag swinging from his shoulder. ‘As you can see, I take this everywhere. I specialise in wildlife photography, especially birds, and one of the magazines based around the corner wanted to use some of my pictures, so I had to come in.’
‘Right,’ she said again. Apart from the ever-present pigeons, her only dealings with birds had been the seagulls in Margate, and they were total pests, stealing your sandwich if you weren’t careful. Penny didn’t think he’d be very impressed if she told him that. Not that she wanted to impress him, she reminded herself.
‘That’s why I was in Spain last autumn,’ he went on, as if she was interested. ‘You get all these migrating birds, some that are hard to find anywhere else. There’s nothing like it. I got some great shots. It’s particularly good down on the south coast – do you know it?’
‘I lived on the Costa Blanca till I was seven,’ she said, wondering why she was bothering to tell him. ‘I can’t remember anything about the birds though. I can’t remember much at all, except for the weather and the food. And my nanny, who taught me Spanish. I’ve never forgotten that.’
‘Didn’t you tell Jimmy you were starting a new job using Spanish?’ he asked.
Damn, he had a good memory. Was that good or was it creepy?
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said, growing enthusiastic, despite herself. ‘I translate publicity leaflets into Spanish, to try to get the tourists in. In fact, I might be doing more than that. My boss wants me to approach travel companies and see if we can arrange to be included in guided tours or stuff like that. So I might have to go to a lot of meetings soon.’
‘Sounds as if you enjoy your job,’ he said.
‘I do,’ she admitted. ‘There’s always something different going on. I worked in a shop before I came to London and it was awful. Whenever I begin to feel I’m getting bored here, I remind myself what that was like and count my blessings.’ She grinned. ‘Sounds stupid, doesn’t it? But it’s true.’ She smiled, and got the strong sense that he was going to ask her to spend more time with him – and she’d had enough of that. What bad timing. If only she’d met him a few weeks ago, she’d have loved to hear more about what he did. ‘I’d better go. Got to cook these.’ She tapped her bag of veg. ‘Maybe see you around.’
‘Maybe,’ he said, and smiled again.
A few weeks later, and spring was on the way. Even in built-up Soho, windowboxes began to come back to life and people started to wear brighter clothes. The most noticeable change at the Paradise Club was the return of Michelle.
‘You keep an eye on her,’ Dave muttered to Maureen as the girl flung open the door to the dressing room and started hugging her fellow dancers. ‘I’m thinking she’s bound to have learnt her lesson but I don’t want no more trouble from her.’
And he didn’t know the half of it, Maureen thought grimly. But who was she to deny the girl her moment of welcome? She’d been missed, there was no doubt about it, and it would do her good to see just how glad her friends were to see her. She couldn’t imagine the girl would court danger as she had before and she’d give her the benefit of the doubt.
Meanwhile, Maureen had other things on her mind. Stuart had given her a present, but not the sort of thing she’d expected from him. Jewellery, yes, that was always nice to have, a ticket to a show, an invitation to a new bar or bistro, always acceptable. But this latest gift had arrived in a big box at the club. She’d opened it when she was on her own in Dave’s office and had groaned.
It was a microwave oven. What the hell was he thinking of? Yes, it would have been expensive and most people she knew still didn’t have one. But she’d never discussed her domestic arrangements with him and couldn’t imagine what had possessed him to get her such a homely thing. Was that how he really thought of her – as someone who should do the cooking? Or was he saying she was too scrawny, that she should eat more? Whatever way she looked at it, she was offended.
She was still staring at it in horror when Penny came into the room.
‘Sorry, have you seen the …’ She came to a halt. ‘What’s that for?’
‘It’s a microwave oven,’ said Maureen with a deadpan face. ‘You heat food with it.’
‘I know that,’ said Penny. ‘Lorna’s had one for ages. But what’s this one for? Is it for the cast here?’
‘No,’ said Maureen, shaking her head in disbelief still, ‘it’s a present. For me. Stuart had it sent here, as I won’t let him near the flat. He seems to think it’s the sort of thing I’d like. Not sure why.’
‘It’ll be really useful!’ exclaimed Penny. ‘When I make dinner and leave you some, you won’t have to put the big oven on. Or eat it cold straight out of the fridge – and don’t say you don’t because I know you do.’
Maureen shrugged, not prepared to be told off by her young flatmate yet again about her eating habits. ‘I’ll kill him. It’s an insult, that’s what it is. He’s telling me I need fattening up, the bloody cheek of it.’
‘You and me both,’ said Penny cheerfully. Since deciding she wasn’t interested in men she had stopped worrying about her lack of curves and had begun to come round to the idea that she might never have any. ‘It’ll be brilliant. Don’t look
so miserable. If you don’t want it I’ll have it.’
‘Bloody marvellous,’ muttered Maureen. ‘He’s got a wife at home to fuss over and talk kitchens with, why does he want to do the same with me? He’s never even seen my kitchen. If he did he’d know there’s no bleedin’ room for this – this monstrosity. Don’t they say they give you cancer and make you infertile? It’s a liability, that’s what it is.’
‘Oh stop moaning,’ Penny told her. ‘You’re spouting a load of old wives’ tales. We’ll make space. Let’s get it back to the flat while Prescott is out. Do you know where he’s gone?’
‘He’s seeing someone from the council about planning permission for the Ashdown development,’ said Maureen. ‘Now he’s got a bit of leverage, thanks to you and your smuggler friends, he’s got a much better chance of overturning their decision to let it go ahead. So he’s in a good mood, which I don’t trust a bit.’ She sighed. ‘All right, then, let’s try to get it back. Can’t we borrow something with wheels?’
‘What, like one of the costume racks?’ asked Penny dubiously. ‘Can’t see Mark being happy with that. It’ll be simpler for both of us to lift it. Come on, I’ll take this end.’
It was easier said than done. The box was bulky and heavy and by the time they got it to the street door of the flat they were exhausted. It didn’t help that Maureen was back in her high heels, which made it almost impossible for her to balance the weight.
‘Leave it here for a bit,’ she gasped. ‘I need a breather. Let this be a lesson to you, young Penny, and don’t take up smoking. Bleedin’ hell, I can hardly get my breath. What a stupid idea this was. Just wait till I see Stuart next, he won’t know what’s hit him.’
‘Maybe we could borrow a trolley from Jimmy to get it up the stairs,’ Penny suggested.
‘Nah, they’re too narrow. We’d never manage it. We could just stand here and try to sell it,’ Maureen groaned. ‘Some other daft mug might actually want it.’ She collapsed and sat on the box, reaching into her bag for a cigarette.
