The Songbird
Page 7
She worked in the shop every hour she could and tried to come to terms with the thought that this would be her life from now on. The only bright spots in her day were when Charlie came to measure her feet and show her the shoes in their various stages, but even that failed to lift her spirits completely for she wondered if she would ever wear them for dancing. She even told Miss Davina and Miss Eloise that she was stopping her lessons for the time being, much to their dismay.
Then Charlie came in one evening with a parcel under his arm. The coffee shop was quiet; Joshua was sitting behind the counter filling in an order form, and Lena was making herself busy tidying up and tut-tutting to herself. She had been complaining again that Nan was slacking in her cleaning. Albert was standing around looking bored and picking at his fingernails.
‘Good evening, Mr Mazzini,’ Charlie said. ‘Are you well?’
‘I’m all right,’ he said. ‘Business could be brisker. You?’
‘Yes, fine, thank you. Would you mind if I had a word with Poppy? Is she about?’ He held up the parcel and Lena and Albert both looked up.
‘Aye, she’s in ’back, I think. Go on through.’ Joshua got up from his seat to open the door into the house for Charlie. ‘Albert, you might as well get off. There’s nothing much doing tonight by ’look of it.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind staying,’ Albert fawned. ‘I can walk Ma home when she’s finished.’
The last customer in the café had just left and Joshua looked across at Lena. ‘You might as well go then, Lena. I’ll clear up.’
‘Oh, are you sure, Josh?’ she said sweetly. ‘You put in so much time. Where’s Tommy?’ She gave a little frown as she pointedly implied that he should have been there to help his father.
‘Gone to bed, I think. He’s up early, you know.’
‘But so are you!’ she said. ‘So are we all!’
Joshua didn’t comment. Lena didn’t know that he sometimes took an hour off in the afternoon and had a sleep. ‘I’ll lock up after you,’ he said, closing up his books. ‘It’s gone ten. Time we were all in bed.’
Poppy was in front of the mirror, stretching her arms in the air when Charlie came through. She swayed from side to side, stretching her waist, neck and shoulders, and then she saw his reflection and turned. She blushed. ‘Hello. I – didn’t hear you.’
‘Sorry.’ He gazed at her. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. I know it’s late. I, erm, I’ve brought your shoes. They’re finished.’
‘Oh!’ she breathed. ‘Thank you!’
‘Is Tommy not about?’ He seemed embarrassed, and she was certainly unnerved to think that she would have to try on the shoes when she was alone with him.
‘He’s just gone up to bed,’ she said. ‘Shall I fetch him?’
‘No, it doesn’t matter. I’ve come to see you, anyway. At least, to bring your shoes. Would you like to try them?’
‘Oh, please!’ She sat down and unbuttoned her shoes. ‘I’ve been longing to see them.’
He sat opposite her and unwrapped the brown paper parcel. ‘I imagine you’re a very good dancer, Poppy,’ he commented. ‘You move very well.’
‘Thank you,’ she said shyly. ‘I do try to practise every day, even though I’m not having lessons now.’
‘Why’s that?’ he asked, gently lifting her foot.
She could barely speak. ‘Because,’ she whispered, ‘Pa wants me to help in the business. And it seems a waste of lessons and money if I can’t be a dancer or a singer.’
‘Is that what you want to do?’ he said, and slipped her foot into the shoe which was so soft and comfortable it was as if she wasn’t wearing shoes at all.
She gazed at him with wide eyes. If only she could tell him. She was sure he would understand; but then a thought struck her. If she should go on the stage, then she wouldn’t see him. If she stayed here with her father, then there was a chance that he might notice that she was growing up and come to care for her as much as she cared for him.
‘There, we’re all locked up.’ Her father came into the room. ‘It’s been a quiet day. Nobody much about. So what’s this then?’ he asked. ‘These the new shoes?’
Poppy stretched out her feet to show him. ‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ she murmured. ‘I shall keep them for ever.’ She glanced shyly at Charlie. ‘Thank you so very much.’
He nodded. ‘I’m pleased with them, and my father is too. He says . . .’ He hesitated. ‘Well, I wasn’t going to say anything just yet and I haven’t told Tommy, but my father’s agreed that I can go and work in London. He has some contacts there who might employ me. High-class shoemakers, you know.’
Poppy felt all the pleasure and happiness draining from her. ‘When?’ she whispered. ‘When will you go?’
‘That’s a great shame,’ her father interrupted. ‘There’s call here in Hull for a good shoemaker. What about your father’s business? What will he do if you go away?’
‘He says he’ll take on another apprentice and then when I’m ready to come back I can take over ’business from him.’
As he spoke, he didn’t look directly at Joshua, who pursed his lips and muttered something about ‘you young people’, and Poppy guessed – no, she knew – that once Charlie had left it was most unlikely that he would come back. She was devastated and felt as if her life was collapsing.
‘It won’t be yet.’ Charlie glanced at Poppy, and she was sure that he knew she was hurting. ‘My father has to write to his contacts and ask if they’d be willing to take me, and it might take some time. But I’ll go.’ He gazed at her as if he was pleading for her to understand. ‘It’s a big chance for me.’
Poppy felt her lips tremble. If Charlie left, then Tommy would leave too. They had been friends since they were very young and Tommy would be very disgruntled if he thought that Charlie was realizing his dream and he was being left behind.
And then what about me? Her eyes filled and tears trickled down her cheeks. I shall be left all alone with just Pa and Lena and the awful Albert.
‘Right then, young feller! Time we were all off to bed. Poppy, will you lock up after Charlie?’ Joshua made a move and Charlie stood up. ‘Tell your da I’ll drop by to see him and thank him personally for Poppy’s shoes. It’s most generous of him.’
‘It’s been grand working on them, Mr Mazzini,’ Charlie said. ‘A great pleasure. I hope you enjoy wearing them, Poppy.’
Poppy brushed her hand across her wet cheek. ‘I will,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ll treasure them always.’
She led the way to the side door, which led out to the street, turned the key and slid back the bolt. She stood against the wall for Charlie to come past. ‘Thank you again, Charlie,’ she whispered, swallowing away her tears. ‘And – and I’m sorry that you’ll be leaving.’ She couldn’t finish. He had told her before that he wanted to go to London. She should have been prepared.
She pressed her lips together to stop herself crying as he turned towards her, his hand on the door.
‘You know that it’s what I want to do, Poppy,’ he said softly. ‘It’s what I have to do.’ He lifted his hand and brushed away her tears. ‘Don’t be upset!’
‘It’s just that I’ll miss you.’ Her eyes misted over. So he did understand.
‘I’ll miss you too,’ he said, and gently kissed her on the cheek. Then he drew back, taking in a breath, as if he was startled by his own action. He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes tender, then he leaned toward her and kissed her lips. ‘Perhaps more than I should.’
When Poppy went back to school in the autumn, she was very conscious that this was her last year. Some of her friends had already left, having reached thirteen. She missed them as it was a small school and the new pupils were much younger than her. She had started her ‘monthlies’ as Mattie had called them and, with her emotions in turmoil, she had wept in Nan’s arms when she had gone to her for advice.
‘You’ll be missing your ma, I know.’ Nan had patted her as she comforted her. ‘It’s not an ea
sy time for a young girl, but you’ll get used to it. Accept it, for there’s nowt else to do about it. It’s all part of growing up and you’ll want to do that, won’t you? You’ll not want to stop as a bairn for ever!’
‘No,’ Poppy sniffled. ‘I don’t. I want to be grown up.’ I want to be able do what I like with my life, she thought. But at the same time I don’t want to hurt Pa.
Miss Davina and Miss Eloise came looking for her and begged her to come back for lessons. ‘You’re an inspiration to our other pupils,’ they implored. ‘Please don’t give up. Not unless your father says you have to,’ they added.
So she started again in January after her thirteenth birthday, and found her enthusiasm coming back as the music filled her head and lifted her spirits. Her voice soared and her feet began to dance.
Albert and Tommy had a fight. They differed over something at the shop and Tommy suggested they take their argument outside. Albert had agreed, to Tommy’s surprise for he hadn’t thought Albert was built for fighting. Like Lena he was of heavy physique and moved slowly. Tommy was swift and lithe but before he had even taken his coat off and squared up, Albert had lashed out and caught him on the nose, causing it to bleed. Tommy was so incensed by the unfairness that he had pummelled Albert in his belly and given him a black eye. Albert took the rest of the day off.
Joshua was furious when Lena told him that Tommy had given Albert a beating for no reason, and stormed at Tommy. ‘You should know better,’ he bellowed. ‘Albert is in our employ. What kind of way is that to treat an employee?’
‘He had it coming,’ Tommy groused, rubbing his sore nose. ‘I’ve wanted to do that since he first came. He’s a sneak. I don’t trust him and I can’t work with him.’
‘Well, if he leaves, so will Lena,’ his father said. ‘She’s told me so. And I depend on her now. She knows ’stock and ’customers. But Albert’s willing to give you another chance. And Lena says she’ll help out with ’baking to give you a bit more free time. She thinks you’re probably overworked and can’t manage all of ’baking by yourself and that’s why you take it out on Albert.’
Tommy was aghast. The only time he could be away from Lena and her son was when he was in the kitchen. ‘I don’t want her help,’ he said. ‘I can manage. How do you know she can bake?’
‘Because she told me so. She used to work for Conner’s before they closed down.’
‘That’s handy, isn’t it?’ Tommy muttered. ‘You can’t ask for a reference cos old man Conner died.’
‘That’s enough!’ his father barked. ‘I can’t be doing with this. You’ll work with Lena and Albert, like it or lump it. When you’re running things, you can say who works here, but until then it’s my say-so and I say that they stay.’
Poppy had listened to their conversation with misgivings. Tommy, she knew, was at his wits’ end as he battled with his hatred of Lena and Albert. They seemed to be always finding fault with him – the cakes had too little fruit, the scones too much baking powder – and they claimed that it was the customers who had complained, but only Lena and Albert had ever heard them.
Joshua left behind the key to the medication cupboard one morning when he went out to meet some suppliers and pay bills. ‘You’d better keep it safe, Lena,’ he said. ‘You’re in ’shop more than Tommy. But keep ’cupboard locked and hide ’key. Poppy, you’re going to be late. Come on, I’ll walk with you as far as George Street.’
As she left her father and walked on to school in Albion Street, Poppy took an envelope out of her pocket. It had come yesterday and she had read the contents several times. She hadn’t shown it to her father, or told Tommy, but Lena had gazed at her curiously when the post came and she’d seen a letter addressed to Miss Poppy Mazzini.
‘Got a young man, have you?’ she’d asked in a sugary voice. ‘Sending you love letters!’ Poppy had ignored her, but she knew it would be only a matter of time before Lena ‘accidentally’ let the information slip in front of her father.
She opened it again. The letter had come as a complete surprise and the receiving of it was making her rethink her future. ‘Dear Miss Mazzini,’ she read. ‘I don’t know if you remember me but I came to your parents’ coffee house two or three years ago when my clients were performing at the Mechanics Hall. You danced and sang for us and I said at the time that you could if you wished make a career on the stage.
‘You will have grown into a young lady now and I wonder if you have given any thought to your future? If you have lent any consideration to a possible career on the stage, I would be interested to hear of it and could probably help you in that direction. From what I saw that day, you have considerable talent. This would be with your parents’ permission, of course, as I realize that you are not of age, but many talented performers start when they are of tender years.’
The letter went on to give his credentials and the names of people he represented, and he signed himself Daniel Damone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tommy and Charlie walked from Scale Lane down to the High Street. Tommy had his hands clenched in his pockets. ‘I never thought your father would agree to your leaving and find somebody willing to take you. But I suppose it’s because you’ll be going into ’same kind of business and will eventually come back? Fat chance of my pa letting me go to sea!’
‘I won’t come back! Well, not for years, anyway.’ Charlie squared his shoulders, a habit he had when he wanted to assert himself. ‘Why would I want to? There’s nobody famous here. I’d just be stuck in that poky workshop day and night making shoes for merchants and their stuck-up wives. Where’s ‘excitement in that?’
Tommy nodded, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. ‘Well, it’s not that I want to leave Hull. It’s as good as any other town, I imagine. But I’m so close to ’sea and can’t get ’chance to sail on it.’
‘Can’t think why you’d want to,’ Charlie snorted. His future was now assured, he was convinced of it. ‘But you could just leave if that’s what you want. That’s what I’d have done if my father hadn’t agreed to me going.’
‘I might do that,’ Tommy said glumly. ‘It’s just that there’s Poppy. I’d feel mean leaving her.’
‘Ah, Poppy!’ Charlie said softly. ‘She was upset when I said I was leaving for London.’
‘She’s sweet on you, that’s why.’ Tommy glanced at his companion. ‘Always has been, even when she was little. Didn’t you know?’
Charlie nodded. ‘I suppose I did,’ he murmured and thought of how he’d kissed her cheek and then her lips and found it very pleasant. ‘She – she’s becoming very attractive.’
‘She’s thirteen!’ Tommy warned him. ‘She’s only a bairn.’
‘I know, I know! I’m only saying! But another couple of years and there’ll be a queue of fellows outside Mazzini’s door.’
‘That’s as maybe,’ Tommy growled, ‘but in ’meantime keep your hands off. I know you and your philandering!’
They came to the King’s Head inn, their choice of destination for the evening. It was already late, but Charlie had sent Tommy a note saying that his father had found him a position in London and he would be leaving the following week. Tommy had finished his chores and gone round to Scale Lane to see him at his father’s workshop.
‘I don’t philander.’ Charlie brushed back a lock of fair hair and straightened his cravat before they opened the door into the hostelry. ‘I’m very particular about which females I consort with, and what’s more I shall aim high when I go to London! Beautiful and rich women will fall over each other to be on my arm and wearing my shoes.’ He grinned. ‘Or even just rich will do.’
The King’s Head inn was an ancient hostelry, one of the oldest in Hull. It was constructed of brick and timber, with shuttered windows and an overhanging top storey, where poets reputedly had stayed and composed odes to the strong Hull ale. As the two young men entered they were assailed by noise and laughter, for the inn was crowded with jostling men and women.
‘I can’t
stay late,’ Tommy said, ‘and I’ll only have one glass or I’ll never get up in ’morning.’ He elbowed his way to the counter. ‘Mattie!’ he called when he saw her and waved to her as she turned. He held up two fingers and she nodded.
‘Didn’t realize you worked here,’ he said, as Mattie pushed her way through to them, holding two brimming tankards in one hand and a jug of ale in the other.
‘I work wherever ‘work is, Tommy.’ She smiled. ‘Me and my ma! Evening, Charlie. Don’t usually see you two in here. Special night out, is it?’
‘Came especially to see you, Mattie,’ Charlie drawled.
‘I’m flattered,’ she said smoothly. ‘Really honoured.’ She gave him a coy glance, lowering her eyelashes. ‘We’ll have to put a plaque on ’wall. Charlie Chandler drank here.’
‘You might one day, Mattie.’ Charlie looked her up and down. ‘When I’m famous.’
She gazed directly at him. ‘And what’ll you be famous for?’
‘He’s going to work in London,’ Tommy said glumly. ‘There’ll be no talking to him once he’s set up!’
‘Dear dear,’ Mattie said wryly. ‘What a loss you’ll be. How ever will we manage without you, Charlie?’ She started to move back to the counter where men were clamouring to be served, and her mother Nan was frantically indicating for her to come and help. ‘But you won’t desert us, will you, Tommy? We can rely on you?’
‘She’s got a soft spot for you!’ Charlie said caustically, when Mattie was out of earshot. He took a long draught of ale. ‘You’re on a winner there. If you dare risk it,’ he added darkly.
‘What do you mean? She’s all right is Mattie. She’s a good sort.’
‘Course she is.’ Charlie wondered why Mattie always managed to ruffle his ego. Was it because although she seemed so warm and seductive, she had always refused his offer of an evening out? ‘I’ve to work for a living,’ she would apologize in her slightly mocking manner. ‘I’ve no rich papa to help me along.’ He knew this was just an evasion and was slightly peeved when he heard her being more than friendly towards Tommy.