by June Tate
He looked at her with amusement. ‘Yes, that’s it exactly. How bright you are.’
‘Not “bright” enough to dress myself though.’
Walking over to her, he drew her into his arms. ‘Don’t sulk, Lily. You will be moving in different circles now. Dressing correctly is an important art. Think of this as part of your training.’
When Vittorio emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel around his waist, Lily was on the bed propped up by pillows, brushing her hair. She watched as he dressed with care.
He said, ‘I’ll send Beatrice up with your breakfast. Lunch will be served at one o’clock. I want you down in the bar to greet my guests at twelve-thirty.’
‘What am I supposed to do until then? Stay a prisoner in my room?’
‘Of course not,’ he said with an indulgent smile. ‘You can look around the club, familiarise yourself with the place. But don’t leave the building. I don’t want you wandering around and arriving back late. You understand?’
She tossed her hair back and with a flippant shake of her head, said, ‘Of course … I’m very bright, you said so yourself.’
She heard his quiet chuckle as he left the room. What a strange man he was. This morning, in bed, they had been as one, and now he’d become businesslike. Dictatorial. She found it irritating. She’d certainly never met anyone like him before.
There was a knock at the door and Beatrice came in, looking at Lily shyly as she put down the breakfast tray. ‘Good morning, miss.’
Lily liked that. It made her feel important. ‘Good morning. Now tell me the lay-out of the club, Beatrice.’
The girl looked startled. ‘What do you mean, miss?’
‘Mr Teglia has given me permission to look around later.’ She gave Beatrice a conspiratorial grin. ‘I don’t want to walk into the wrong places, do I?’
The girl grinned back at her. ‘No, miss. On this floor, apart from this room, there are others that Mr Vittorio keeps for his special guests. On the floor below are the girls with their rooms. Best not go into those, miss.’
Lily raised eyebrows in question. ‘No?’
‘They wouldn’t like it. Downstairs in the front you’ve already seen.’
‘And the back?’
Beatrice shook her head. ‘Apart from the kitchen, I don’t know.’
Lily was intrigued. ‘Really? Thank you, that’ll be all.’
Once dressed, she seated herself before the dressing table that Vittorio had installed for her and looked into the mirror at her reflection.
The red dress chosen by Vittorio, made of fine wool, looked elegant. The neck was round and neat and the long sleeves had a fine double frill at the cuff which matched the frill around the hem. She brushed her hair, patted it in place, quickly put on some lipstick then, taking a deep breath, left the room. When she reached the floor below, she saw three girls wearing silk dressing gowns standing together in a bedroom doorway, chatting. They looked at her with interest.
‘Good morning,’ she said as she walked by. Two of them smiled at her and answered, the other, a tall redhead, glared spitefully at her and was silent. But as Lily walked on she heard the girl’s remark. ‘So that’s Vittorio’s new whore. Nice and young, just as he likes them.’
Lily flushed with anger. She’d sort out that one as soon as possible. She wasn’t going to take any nonsense from any of them. Those days were behind her.
When she got to the dining room, her gaze went immediately to the double doors at the back of the room. She caught hold of the handles, but the doors were locked. George Coleman happened to be walking by at that moment and seeing her he asked, ‘Anything I can do, miss?’
‘No. I was just looking around.’
He eyed her carefully. ‘Perhaps I can give you a tour?’
She gave him a wide smile. ‘That would be lovely.’
He showed her the kitchen and introduced her to the chef. He walked her up on the stage for her to get the feel of it, for as he said, ‘I believe this is where you’ll be performing.’
She stood centre-stage and looked out over the dining room, feeling her stomach tighten. What if the patrons didn’t like her?
Sensing her dismay, George said quietly, ‘You’ll do just fine, Miss Lily. I heard you sing in The Lord Roberts, remember?’
‘I hope you’re right. What’s behind the locked doors?’ she asked casually.
‘No doubt Mr Vittorio will show you at some time, miss.’
He sat her down at the bar to wait with a cup of coffee and the morning papers. She couldn’t concentrate on the daily news, becoming more nervous as the time passed, and was relieved when Vittorio ascended the stairs from his office.
He walked over to her. ‘You look lovely, my dear.’ There was a sudden burst of laughter and conversation coming from the entrance and Vittorio glanced away. Putting out his hand towards her he said, ‘Come and meet my guests.’
There were four men in the party, all from the White Star Line’s Olympic: big bluff Ned Saunders, the Chief Steward; Teddy Green, the Head Chef; Reg Mathews, a quiet man smoking a pipe who was the Chief Engineer; and sophisticated Richard Carter, the Purser.
The men made their way to the bar, where they were greeted by Vittorio. Turning to Lily, he introduced her to his guests. They all shook her by the hand, Ned holding on to Lily for much longer than was polite. She noted the lascivious look in his eyes as he said, ‘I do hope this beautiful young woman is to be seated next to me at lunch?’
Vittorio gave a benevolent smile. ‘If that is what you want.’
The men drank heavily whilst they chatted. Vittorio refused several drinks on Lily’s behalf, which didn’t annoy her in this instance as she wanted to keep her senses about her. Finally they were led to the table by the head waiter.
The conversation was stimulating. These were men of the world and Lily plied them with questions about New York and life at sea. ‘You must come on board when we dock next trip,’ said Ned. ‘I’d enjoy showing you around.’
I bet you would, thought Lily. Before I knew where I was I’d be cornered in your cabin. Looking across the table at Vittorio, she said, ‘We could manage that, couldn’t we?’
With a slow smile he said, ‘I expect so, if you’d like to go.’
‘If you’re busy, Vittorio, I could take the little lady. You know I’d look after her.’
Lily looked anxiously across the table at The Maltese.
‘I’m sure you would, Ned. But Lily is solely in my care.’
She saw the disappointment in the other man’s face. She also felt the pressure of his knee against hers beneath the table. She moved her leg away. He moved his too.
After the dessert, coffee was served and the men lit cigars. Lily gave a start as she felt Ned’s hand on her knee. She looked across with wide eyes at Vittorio, who was watching her carefully. The rotten swine, she thought. He knows exactly what’s going on!
Ned’s hand crept higher, pushing the skirt of her dress out of the way. Lily’s lips narrowed. ‘May I have a cigarette, Vittorio?’
He handed over his gold cigarette case and she took one. Still Vittorio’s gaze didn’t leave her. Lily drew on the cigarette until the tip was long and red. She flicked off the ash, drew on it again, then swiftly stubbed it out on the back of Ned’s hand.
He gave a cry of pain, then sucked on the burnt skin. He turned to Lily, a curse on his lips.
‘Yes?’ she said.
The others, now aware of what had been happening, chided their friend good-naturedly. Still Vittorio remained silent. Observing.
Turning to Ned, Lily said clearly, ‘If ever we sit together again, I expect you to keep your paws on the table. I don’t like being mauled.’
Ned looked thunderous, but his friends roared with laughter. Vittorio held up his glass to Lily in salute. She wondered if this had been some kind of test. If so, she’d apparently passed.
Their guests were the last to leave the club, with Vittorio at the door to see them off th
e premises. As Lily walked past the bar, seated on the high stools were the three girls she’d seen that morning. The redhead looked her up and down with disdain.
‘I suppose you think you’re better than us with your fancy new clothes.’
Lily looked hard at her. ‘Watch your mouth or you’ll be sorry.’
‘Humph! She thinks she’s God Almighty.’
Lily put her hand in the centre of the girl’s chest and gave a mighty push. The redhead toppled over backwards onto the floor. She was still sprawled there when Vittorio walked over.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ was Lily’s spirited answer.
‘Been opening your mouth again, Iris?’ said Vittorio. ‘I think you’d better apologise to Lily.’
She scrambled to her feet. ‘Sorry, Lily.’
‘Miss Lily to you, Iris.’ She glared at the girl, defying her to disobey.
Iris, puce with anger, glowered at her. ‘Miss Lily,’ she repeated.
Lily stalked away, followed by Vittorio.
‘Come into the office,’ he said. She did so, closing the door behind her. He took her into his arms. ‘You did well today. I like the way you handled Ned – and Iris.’
‘Nobody treats me like those two and gets away with it!’
‘Quite.’
Still furious, she asked, ‘Why didn’t you do anything about that bastard, Ned? You knew what was going on, I could tell. You just sat there!’
‘I had to see if you could handle men like him. I would have stepped in if necessary.’
‘I should hope so.’
‘You are mine and, as such, you are due respect. In time people like Ned will learn this lesson. Remember that.’
‘Does that go for you too, Vittorio?’
The slow smile she was beginning to recognise crossed his lips. ‘We’ll see. This afternoon before we open I’ve asked the band to come in and rehearse with you. Sort out your programme with the leader. You will sing here on Saturday night.’
‘And you will choose my gown, no doubt.’
His smile didn’t fade. ‘Any of them will do. I chose them carefully.’
‘In other words, I can’t go wrong.’
‘Precisely.’
She looked at him with curiosity. ‘Do you ever do anything that isn’t calculated?’
Shaking his head, he said, ‘No. That’s why I’m successful and rich. Now I have work to do.’ He kissed her on the forehead and walked over to his desk. ‘The band will be here at five o’clock.’
The leader of the five-piece band looked at her with a thinly disguised expression of disdain. ‘Right, miss. What key do you sing in?’ he asked in a flat voice.
Puzzled, Lily said, ‘How the hell should I know?’
He looked at his colleagues in despair.
Already irritated by his tone, Lily took off at him. ‘What’s your name?’ she snapped.
‘Harry.’
‘Right, Harry. I know what you’re thinking. This bit of skirt is Vittorio’s latest piece!’
The man was taken aback by her candour.
‘And you think you’ve got to please the boss and tolerate me, knowing that I have no talent. Well, that’s right, you do. But I can sing. Believe me, I can sing. Now you tell me what bloody key, all right?’
He nodded.
Lily started to give a beautiful rendition of ‘Danny Boy’. As her pure voice rang out in the empty room, various members of staff crept in to listen. The band soon joined in, playing the melody in the right key. In the leader’s eyes grew a look of respect. When Lily had finished, there was a flurry of applause from her small audience, joined by the members of the band. And the leader.
She looked at Harry, the expression in her eyes a definite challenge. ‘Well?’
He bowed to her. ‘I owe you an apology, miss.’
‘Lily. My name’s Lily.’ She beamed at him. ‘I think we’ll work well together. Now here’s my programme.’
Later, she and Vittorio had dinner together in the club dining room. Looking across at her he asked, ‘How did the rehearsal go?’
She smiled inwardly but said, ‘Fine. No problems. We got on very well.’
‘Excellent. Saturday night is usually very busy, so you’ll have a good audience.’ Seeing the look of anxiety in her eyes, he leaned across the table and took her hand in his. ‘You’ll be fine, my dear.’
‘I hope so. I’ll certainly do my best.’
‘Have you enjoyed your first day with me, Lily?’
She nodded. ‘Thank you, Vittorio. It’s certainly been different – strange, even – although that Ned is a dirty old man. Don’t you ever leave me alone with him, will you?’
He laughed loudly. ‘From what I saw, he’s the one who should be saying that.’
‘Is he a friend of yours?’ she asked.
‘No. Just a business acquaintance.’
Lily was relieved. If it was just business between the men, with luck she wouldn’t encounter Ned very often. He made her flesh creep.
Weary after her busy day, Lily looked across the table at the end of the meal. ‘Do you mind if I go to my room? I’m really tired.’
‘No, you go, my dear. I have some papers to clear before I’ve finished. I’ll see you later.’
She was half-asleep when he came into the room.
Vittorio climbed into bed. ‘Are you awake, Lily?’
‘Mmm,’ she murmured.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Good night,’ he said as he gathered her into his arms. ‘Sleep well.’
As she lay there, she was surprised yet pleased that Vittorio just wanted to hold her. In her experience of men, with the exception of Fred, all they had wanted from her was sex. It was nice just to be held in a warm embrace, Vittorio’s firm body at her back, his arms gently around her. It was something she’d yearned for, for so long. How strange it should be the feared Maltese, who should be the one to give it to her.
It was Saturday night, the club was full and Lily was feeling nervous. She sat in front of the dressing table brushing her hair, her heart beating like a steam engine.
Vittorio emerged from the bathroom, dressed in evening wear. Walking over to her he said, ‘For goodness sake, relax.’ He laid his hands on her shoulders and began to massage them. ‘Good heavens, you’re wound up tighter than a spring. If I didn’t think you were good enough for my establishment, you wouldn’t be here. Trust me.’ He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll see you downstairs in the bar.’
When he had gone, Lily took a deep breath and gave herself a talking to. ‘You’re here of your own free will and you want to go on singing,’ she hissed, ‘so pull yourself together. Sandy said you were a natural, so go and give them the performance of your life.’
Choosing an emerald-green dress, which was made of satin and trimmed at the neck with black jet beads, she looked into the mirror at her reflection and she was pleased. The beads on her dress sparkled, as did the diamond-paste necklace and earrings that Vittorio had bought for her.
As Lily descended the stairs, she saw that the dining room and the bar were already full. Vittorio, standing at the bar, called her over. He ordered a drink from the barman and handed it to her. With a kindly smile he said, ‘Take this, it will calm your nerves. You’ll be just fine. Go up there and enjoy yourself.’ He kissed her forehead and gently pushed her towards the stage.
Lily walked over to the band. Harry, the leader, winked at her. ‘Ready, ducks?’
Taking a deep breath she said, ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’
He squeezed her arm. ‘You look lovely. Within minutes you’ll have this lot eating out of your hand.’
She started her programme with a cheerful ‘Margie’, which soon caught the attention of her audience. Her rendition of Marie Lloyd’s songs was enthusiastically received, especially when she draped a woollen shawl around her head and sang, ‘I’m one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit’. And ‘A li
ttle of what you fancy does you good’ brought forth raucous laughter. But as usual it was the ballads that caught at the heart of her audience, the songs a perfect foil for the cheeky numbers she’d sung earlier. At the end of her performance, the applause rang out. ‘Encore!’ shouted several voices. She thanked them; then, turning to Harry, she nodded for him to play in the first notes of her encore, ‘After you’re gone, there’s no use crying …’ She smiled to herself as she thought of dear Sandy and his bit of raunch, as he called this song. She remembered exactly how he taught her to put the number over and the applause was noisy and enthusiastic.
This time her heart was beating fast with relief. She looked over at Vittorio, who was smiling and applauding along with the rest. He beckoned her over. Putting an arm around her shoulders, he hugged her. ‘Didn’t I tell you? You were wasted in those shabby pubs. This is where you belong, amongst those who can appreciate your talent.’
She looked at him, her eyes bright, and defended her friends. ‘They too appreciated me. They just didn’t have as much money, that’s the only difference.’
His eyes sparked at her show of defiance. ‘True, Lily. But none of them could help you. Here in this room are men of position who can be of use to your future … and mine. That’s the difference and it’s an important one. You have a lot yet to learn. However, this is not the time for a lecture.’ He handed her a glass of champagne. ‘Here’s to your success.’
She took a sip and wrinkled her nose as the bubbles burst in the glass. She thought of Tom and wished he could have been here tonight. But of course, then he would have known she was the mistress of The Maltese. For a moment the reality of her situation really hit home.
Several clients came up and congratulated her on her performance. Lily forgot her concerns and enjoyed her popularity. She chatted happily with the men, flirted outrageously with many – and became a star.
Vittorio looked on, an expression of pride and amusement on his face, but his eyes were ever-watchful.
Two days later, Lily made her way to the home of recovery in The Avenue to visit Rachel. She was shown into a small private room.
Rachel was sitting in a comfortable chair by the window, wearing a dressing gown, reading a newspaper, glasses perched on the end of her nose. She turned as the door opened. Taking off her glasses, she looked at Lily, her glance taking in every detail of the girl’s new apparel. ‘Hello, darling! Come in. Come in.’ Looking at the nurse, she asked, ‘A tray of tea for two, please, and some biscuits.’
