by Val Wood
‘Well, I’m back now,’ Tommy asserted. ‘I’ll sort them out.’
‘But we need to find out what they’ve been up to!’ Mattie said urgently. ‘They’re not going to get off scot free. Not after ’way she’s treated my ma!’
‘My, what claws!’ Tommy said admiringly. ‘Where’s that flippant lass I once knew?’
Mattie gazed steadily at him for a moment. ‘You never knew her, Tommy. Nobody does. Now.’ She swiftly changed the subject, but still his eyes watched her. ‘Listen to this. I’m waiting for Mrs Thomas to find out where Lena was living before she went to Mazzini’s. If she’s still paying rent on it, it means she’s using it for something else,’ she explained.
‘Not necessarily,’ he said, surprising himself by arguing Lena’s side. ‘Perhaps she’s hanging on to it in case Pa asks her to leave.’
‘No, not her,’ Mattie said vehemently. ‘Albert told your pa they were giving it up. She’s up to something, I know she is. Will you stay, Tommy, until I find out? I mean, I don’t want to upset Poppy when she’s rehearsing, and I don’t want to trouble your pa when he’s not been well, so ’timing has to be right.’
‘How long?’ Tommy was keen to get home, but then he thought that as Lena was using his room it would be better to have some ammunition to get her out. ‘Where’s Albert staying?’ he asked. ‘Is he at our house?’
‘Seemingly he’s sleeping in ’kitchen cos Poppy insisted he couldn’t have her room. Ma says it was kept locked.’
Tommy nodded thoughtfully. What a fiasco, and all because he wanted to go to sea. Now he couldn’t wait to go home. ‘Then what?’ he asked. ‘What if you do find out her address?’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘Why, what do you think? We go in and have a look round!’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Tommy wasn’t very keen on the idea of breaking into someone else’s house, but Mattie did her best to persuade him. ‘It isn’t as if we were stealing anything,’ she wheedled. ‘We’re only looking. We might not even have to go in. We can mebbe just look through ’window. But,’ she added cautiously, ‘don’t mention it to Ma, will you? She’ll be dead set against it!’
But Mrs Thomas couldn’t at first find out the address and it was Tuesday morning before she came knocking on their door. Nan was out at the wash-house and Mattie had gone job-hunting. Tommy peeked out of the window and on seeing Mrs Thomas he opened the door a crack.
‘Tommy! Whatever are you doing here?’ she exclaimed. ‘Why aren’t you at home?’ She gazed narrowly at him. ‘You’re not on ’run from ’authorities, are you?’
He opened the door to let her in. ‘No!’ he said. ‘I should be at home, but Pa doesn’t know I’m back yet. Mattie’s got some crackpot idea about Lena Rogers and Albert.’
‘They’re ruining your father,’ Mrs Thomas said. ‘I’ve never seen a man so run down. But Mattie’s right. We should find out what they’re up to!’ Mrs Thomas’s eyes gleamed and Tommy reckoned she was enjoying the scheming. ‘If you go home now, they’ll be cautious. They think they can get away with owt while your pa’s on his own and under ’weather!’
‘But Poppy’s there,’ he argued. ‘They’ll not get up to anything when she’s around.’
‘I don’t think she’s in much. I’ve seen her trotting off to ’theatre most days. She’s rehearsing for panto, I think. Anyway, tell Mattie I know where they live.’
The house in question was in Dagger Lane, the area near the Holy Trinity Church in the centre of the old town, and as soon as Nan and Mattie had gone off to work that evening Tommy pulled his hat over his forehead, hiding his sandy hair, pulled up his coat collar and went off to look for the address. It was a dark and gloomy area but he found the place, an unlit downstairs room, and he leaned despondently against a wall across from it. A light drizzle was falling and he thought that he was doomed for ever to get wet. He waited a few minutes and was about to walk towards the house when he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the narrow lane.
He pulled back into a corner, and saw Albert walking towards the door of the house with a large bag in his hand. Tommy waited a moment longer for Albert to go inside, and then slipped across the lane. There was torn newspaper hanging down inside the window and he repressed the urge to wipe the grimy glass in order to get a better look. Then a candle flame flickered and Tommy took in a sharp breath as he saw Albert take out the contents of the bag.
He arrived back at the house in Stewart’s Yard before Nan and Mattie came home from work and sat brooding by the fire. He had given Mattie some money and she’d bought a bag of coal. Nan had refused it but he’d insisted, telling them he was cold, and finally Mattie had agreed to take it to buy coal and food.
‘You ought go home,’ Nan had told him, but Mattie had said no, another few days wouldn’t matter and they must get the business of Lena and Albert settled. Now, as he sat gazing into the flames, he conceded that Mattie was right. If he confronted Lena and Albert and accused them of stealing the goods which he had seen stacked in boxes and cartons against the walls of the room in Dagger Lane, they would just pack up and disappear out of town.
When the two women arrived home he was still sitting gazing into the flames. He looked up and raised his eyebrows. ‘You were right, Mattie. It’s a thieves’ kitchen. The place is like a warehouse, stacked with goods. I recognized ’manufacturers’ names on the cartons as ’same ones that Pa buys.’
‘What?’ Nan had a puzzled frown on her tired face, so they explained that Mrs Thomas had discovered the address and Tommy had gone round to have a look. ‘Then we have to inform ’police,’ she said. ‘We can’t go taking ’law into our own hands or we’ll get into trouble.’
Mattie looked disappointed. ‘I wanted ’pleasure of confronting them,’ she said. ‘Especially after ’way they’ve treated you, Ma.’
‘We’ll ask ’police if they’ll keep watch,’ Tommy said. ‘Albert went in bold as brass with a bag stuffed full of tea tonight. He’s obviously getting careless.’ He frowned. ‘But what are they doing with it? They must be selling it, but how, if Lena is in ’shop most of the time?’
Mattie shook her head. That she didn’t know.
‘This is Mrs Spivey. She’s come to give me a hand with the cleaning.’ Lena confronted Joshua with a hard false smile on her face. ‘You remember I said I had somebody in mind?’
Joshua opened his mouth to protest. He had said he’d like to take a look at her first when Lena had mentioned it, but she’d taken the woman on anyway. Well, he thought, I’ll keep an eye on her, see how she shapes up. Then he grunted to himself and pondered that Lena had been rather sharp, bringing the woman in when Poppy was at the theatre. She thinks she can get round me, he thought, and she’s probably right. I’m no match for a scheming woman.
‘Where’ve you worked before, Mrs Spivey?’ he asked. She didn’t look as if she was strong enough to do any cleaning. She was very small and thin, but wick, he thought, as if she could move quickly when she wanted to. He wasn’t entirely happy about her; she didn’t look very clean, for one thing. Not like Nan. He gave a sigh. Nan was as neat as a pin in spite of her shabby clothes. I really must assert myself, he thought wearily. I must decide what to do.
‘Ooh, all over town!’ Mrs Spivey whined and Joshua clenched his teeth. She had a sharp voice which grated. ‘Anybody’ll tell you about me.’
He nodded, a fixed look on his face. ‘All right. Start in ’morning. We’ll give you a fortnight’s trial. Mrs Rogers will tell you what needs doing.’ But he was troubled. He didn’t like the idea of her cleaning upstairs. He fancied that she might be the type who would have a nosy look into things that didn’t concern her. I’ll ask Poppy what she thinks when she comes in, he thought.
But when Poppy came home she was full of the excitement of the rehearsal and told him that she had three tickets for the opening night on Saturday. ‘I know that Nan and Mattie work at night but I’ll still ask if they’ll come. The opening night will be s
pecial. I’ll slip round and ask them in the morning.’
It was raining hard the next morning so she decided to wait until it cleared, which it seemed it would; the sky was lightening and an occasional glimpse of blue sky could be seen above the cloud. She went through into the shop and asked Albert if there was anything she could do to help. ‘I’ll make the coffee, shall I?’ she asked. ‘Pa always says that people will come in out of the rain if they smell coffee.’
He shrugged. ‘If you like. I wasn’t going to bother this morning.’ His eyes shifted to a little woman whom Poppy hadn’t noticed, as she was bending down behind a table. She had a duster in her hand.
‘Oh!’ Poppy said. ‘Hello! Who are you?’
‘Mrs Spivey,’ the woman whined. ‘Lena’s just set me on.’
‘As a cleaner?’ Poppy was surprised that her father hadn’t mentioned it, though perhaps he had forgotten as he was spending the morning looking over his accounts. Lena hadn’t mentioned it either. She was still rattling around in the kitchen. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘She’s only just started this morning,’ Albert interrupted. ‘Not ten minutes since.’
Rather late for a cleaner to start, Poppy thought; it’s gone nine o’clock. She said nothing, but felt uneasy. I wonder where Lena found her? She made the coffee and then opened the door. The windows were steamed up and Mrs Spivey was reaching up to clean them. She was far too short to get very high.
‘You need a pair of steps, Mrs Spivey. You’ll not be able to reach the top. Albert,’ Poppy turned to him, ‘would you get Mrs Spivey the steps from the back, please? I doubt if she can lift them herself.’
Why has Lena employed her, she wondered as Albert went to fetch the steps. She’s not big enough to move the tables or reach into the corners without help.
‘Good morning!’ A cheerful voice greeted her.
‘Mattie! Hello. How nice to see you. Come and have a cup of coffee. I’ve just made it. Compliments of the management,’ she added.
Mattie’s attention seemed to have been caught by the sight of Mrs Spivey. ’Erm, no thank you,’ she said vaguely, her eyes on the woman. ‘I’m on my way somewhere, but I thought I’d drop in and ask how your pa is and how ’pantomime rehearsal is going. Morning, Mrs Spivey,’ she said. ‘Haven’t seen you around for a bit.’ Mattie’s eyes seemed to brighten and she chewed on her mouth and gave a brisk nod of her head as if she’d just realized something. ‘Not for ages!’ She turned to Poppy. ‘Everything all right, is it?’ She had a smug grin on her face, which she was trying to conceal. ‘As I say, I can’t stop, but I thought I’d drop in.’
‘I was coming round to see you anyway,’ Poppy told her. ‘I was just waiting for the rain to stop. I’ve got some tickets for the theatre on Saturday night. I hoped that you and Nan could go with Pa?’
Mattie drew in a breath then exhaled. ‘Saturday? Mm, that would be nice. Can I let you know?’
‘I’ve got the tickets anyway.’ Poppy was puzzled by Mattie’s attitude. She thought she’d have to persuade her to take time off work, but here she was practically agreeing without even consulting Nan.
‘Yes!’ Mattie beamed at her. ‘I think that would work out just right. Thank you very much, Poppy!’
Work out right? What does she mean? Poppy stared after Mattie as she left the shop. Still, it will be lovely if they’ll go to the pantomime with Pa. He won’t want to go on his own.
Albert came back in. ‘You’re not rehearsing today, then?’ he asked, as he opened up the steps for Mrs Spivey.
‘This afternoon,’ she answered, thinking that this was the first time he had shown any interest. ‘The children are in this morning.’
‘Ah!’ He nodded. ‘And, erm, when does the show start?’
‘Saturday evening.’ She removed a dirty tablecloth from one of the tables and took a clean one from a drawer.
‘I expect your pa will want to go and see you, won’t he?’ She looked at him in surprise as he added, ‘Lena and me will be able to manage all right if he does.’
‘I’ll come in and give you an ’and,’ Mrs Spivey piped up from the top of the steps, and rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. ‘I’m not doin’ owt on Sat’day.’
‘Oh, that’s kind of you, Mrs Spivey, but I’m sure it won’t be necessary.’ Poppy was aghast. Maybe Mrs Spivey was good at cleaning, but her presence in the coffee shop would not be an advantage; rather the reverse. I must speak to Pa. There have to be some changes. A great despondency swept over her. It’s no good, she thought miserably. I can’t let Pa cope with this on his own. Aladdin will be my last show.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The pantomime opened with a great clash of gongs and cymbals as the orchestra began the overture, and the curtain rose showing Emperor Souchong’s palace. Around the elaborate oriental set, designed to represent Chinese life by bridges, doves, flowers, strange animals and ancient symbols, the emperor’s coolie servants, musicians and acrobats scurried with much bowing, scraping and tumbling, preparing for the emperor and his beautiful daughter Princess Badroulbadour to put in an appearance.
Poppy watched from the wings. She didn’t appear until the end of the first act so she was able to absorb the atmosphere and thrill of the performance. She listened as the deceitful Congue, the Grand Vizier, made crafty plans for his son, Hyson, to ensnare the princess into marriage, and to his artful son’s endeavours to marry her serving maid.
The chorus maids sang, their hands tucked into the sleeves of colourful kimonos, and the children of the ballet, in their black-fringed wigs, danced and sang appealingly. Then the scene changed to the poor hovel where Aladdin and his mother Widow Twankey lived. The audience laughed and hooted at the widow’s red petticoats and voluminous under-drawers, and at Aladdin’s futile attempts to shoo away the two bailiffs, Snipper and Snapper, who had come to collect their rent and were booed and hissed at by the audience.
Poppy’s costume had been specially made for her as the Lambent Flame was a new part in the pantomime, and the seamstress had excelled herself. She had been told of the role and had fashioned a tunic of gold satin with slits at each side for free movement which fitted Poppy like a second skin. Over it she had sewn an overskirt of gold and silver muslin panels, which shimmered and floated like tongues of flame as she moved. These were replicated in the long flowing sleeves, which reached to her fingertips. On her head she wore a circlet of gold and silver which flashed and scintillated as she turned her head.
In the last scene of the first act, Fairy Fancy, the Good Spirit of the Pantomime, dressed in shimmering white, appeared by a deep cave, to assure the audience that the pantomime would live for ever, but she was disturbed by the magician Abanazer, wearing a pointed hat and a black cloak decorated with stars, who, in his search for the magic lamp, threatened to overwhelm and diminish her power. The light which shone on her began to dim and fade; her figure drooped, the hand holding the silver wand began to sink, her head with its circlet of white diamonds slumped to her chest and she fell to the floor.
The lights on the stage dimmed, and as the children in the audience began to wail and call out and the grown-ups started to boo the magician, there came from a dark corner a shimmering, flickering gleam of yellow light which increased to a glow, and Poppy as the Lambent Flame appeared with the spotlight playing on her, the panels on her costume fluttering like a golden flame and singing:
‘I am the radiant Lambent Flame
Let no-one ever forget my name
Come, children of this pantomime
Will you clap and sing a happy rhyme?
And bring good cheer to Fairy Fancy
Let not the wicked Abanazer take our
Spirit – but by flame and pyromancy
Bring back her magic power.’
Poppy lifted her arms and began to spin round and round the Good Spirit, the panels of her costume swirling and her gold tunic glittering beneath as if on fire. As she danced she exhorted the children to clap and sing and
the theatre resounded with the sound of their voices calling ‘Fairy Fancy! Fairy Fancy!’ and their hands clapping so loudly that everyone’s ears began to buzz.
As Poppy swirled round and round, the Good Spirit began to raise her head and then her shoulders and finally she lifted high her arms and hands, holding her wand, and rose to her feet. The children began to applaud, standing up from and onto their seats, cheering and shouting.
The Good Spirit and the Lambent Flame began a chant together in which they exhorted the good spirits of the world to crush the bad, and Abanazer, to hisses and whistles from the audience, cowered, bent his head and slunk away off the stage.
‘Spirits of the world unite
And by your powers stand firm this night
Condemn this evil, let it fail, and bring forth a steadfast male
A man who by his honesty – will one day be – His Majesty!’
There was a crash of cymbals, a reverberating roll of drums, and a brilliant flash of light, and Aladdin, covering his eyes from the brightness, appeared apparently out of nowhere, in front of the cave.
‘Wonderful,’ Fred Vine whispered as Poppy and Miss Gosse came off the stage. ‘Just wonderful!’
Poppy laughed. She had enjoyed herself enormously, and she still had several entries to make and songs to sing. Each time the Good Spirit’s powers diminished, the children would shout for the Lambent Flame and she would appear as a flickering yellow light to save her. Near the end of the pantomime, Aladdin captured the princess’s heart and hand and sang to her, ‘A whole new world’.
‘I can show you the world
Shining shimmering splendour
Tell me, princess, when did you last let your heart decide?
I can open your eyes, take you wonder by wonder
Over, sideways and under, on a magic carpet ride.’
All is happily concluded and the final wedding scene is set. Poppy had a solo spot in which she sang that she was destined to be always alone as a single flame.
