The Child Left Behind

by Gracie Hart

  ‘I like to waltz. Aunt Eliza has taught me most of the steps.’ Victoria mumbled.

  ‘If you wish, after we have had our tea I’ll teach you the two-step. It is a dance they all love in America and I believe it is just as popular here. Although I’ve got two left feet most of the time.’ Mary-Anne smiled at her daughter.

  ‘You haven’t, our Mary-Anne, you always danced beautifully. Let her show you, Victoria; I don’t know the steps. That and the polka are all the rage, from what Grace tells me.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Victoria hung her head. She’d like to have learned the dance but not with her mother.

  ‘Well, let’s have tea and then you can decide.’ Mary-Anne poured the tea and offered everyone a plate.

  ‘Come on, then, I’ll show you the steps and I’ll also hum the tune so that we don’t look like complete Charlies.’ They had finished the tea and bannock buns, and Mary-Anne urged Victoria to follow her into the front room parlour. She smiled at her daughter, noting how uncomfortable she looked as she grasped her mother’s hand. ‘I promise I won’t bite and I don’t need your hand.’

  Victoria dared not look at her mother in the eye.

  ‘Now, you just follow me and watch my feet, you’ll soon get the hang of it.’ Mary-Anne hummed a tune that she remembered from her time back in America and grinned as Victoria watched her every move. She held her tightly and thought how much she loved her precious daughter as she slowly taught her the steps. Their skirts swirled around them and before long, both mother and daughter were dancing and laughing together as they paraded around the parlour.

  ‘Sounds like those two are having fun and have made their peace.’ Ma Fletcher leaned forward in her chair and watched as Eliza cleared the table.

  ‘For the moment. Let’s see if it continues. And if our Mary-Anne can behave herself.’ Eliza stood back against the sink and dried her hands on the tea towel, wistfully wishing that the frolicking would build bridges between mother and daughter.

  Chapter 22

  ‘Well, how do I look?’ Mary-Anne stood in front of Ma Fletcher and fidgeted. She felt like a young girl again as she thought of the reaction on William Ellershaw’s face.

  ‘You look like a trollop! A well-to-do trollop, but a trollop nonetheless! Those dumplings of yours are nearly falling out of your bodice. You’ll blind him if you are not careful.’

  ‘That’s what I aim to do. Blind him with lust and passion but keep him at arm’s length, just to make him really want me and only me.’ Mary-Anne squeezed her breasts together and pulled her bodice up.

  ‘He’ll be trading you in at a brothel if you aren’t careful. You need to be a little more modest, else he’ll only do what his father did before him.’ Ma Fletcher couldn’t believe just how forward she was going to be with William.

  ‘No, he’ll not. He thinks I’m wealthy, so he will have to show more respect. Besides, we will be in company tonight at the music hall. I’m sure there will be people he knows there, I only hope his wife does not find out about our evening together. The poor cow.’ Mary-Anne picked up her black and green lace fan and put her small posy bag on her arm and looked down at her silk skirts and tight, nipped-in bodice. ‘Do you think this peacock-feathered brooch looks right in my hair?’ She put her hand up to her head and felt the hair adornment.

  ‘Aye, but it’ll not be in for that long, he’ll pull it out when his hands are all over you in the carriage. You hadn’t thought about that, had you?’ Ma Fletcher was worried, Mary-Anne was playing with fire. ‘Alone in his carriage, no wonder he said he would send one to you. Just mind what you are doing.’

  ‘It’s here, listen, I can hear the horses! Oh, Lord, you’ve got me worried now.’

  There was a loud knock on the door.

  ‘Well, open it then lass, he’s waiting!’

  Mary-Anne remembered the last time she climbed into a carriage with a member of the Ellershaw family. Edmund Ellershaw’s hands had been all over her as soon as the carriage door had closed and she had wished herself dead by the time they had reached his gentleman’s club. She breathed in deeply and opened the door to her visitor.

  ‘Mrs Vasey? Mr Ellershaw has sent me to escort you to the music hall. He sends his apologies for not being here in person.’ The groom was short with a round face and red cheeks. He coughed slightly as if embarrassed by his master’s message.

  ‘Yes, I’m Mrs Vasey. I quite understand.’ Mary-Anne picked up her skirts and looked quickly behind her at Ma Fletcher. She closed the door and made her way to the steps of the carriage. She could breathe easier now. There would be no fondling or groping on this journey at least.

  She sat back in the darkness of the carriage and the team of horses took her into the bustling city of Leeds. The hostelries and gin parlours were alive with roars of laughter and singing, while women were selling flowers and matches on busy street corners in order to keep their families fed. Some were touting for other trade and were not ashamed of letting people know what they were about with jeers to drunken men and a quick flash of flesh to show them their wares. Mary-Anne decided to wrap her lace shawl more securely around her shoulders. Perhaps Ma Fletcher had been right and the dress was a little too revealing. The carriage pulled up into Swan Street and the carriage driver was dodging people of all classes to open the carriage door for her to alight.

  ‘Thank you.’ Mary-Anne took the hand of the coach-man and stepped out onto the busy street. She looked down the narrow cobbled yard that lead to the White Swan and the building that was now known as Thornton’s New Music Hall. Most of the ladies were dressed in their finest, with wide-brimmed hats adorned with flowers, feathers and even stuffed birds, and their sweeping skirts rustled as they hurriedly walked to get to the best seats, arm and arm with their partners dressed in full evening dress or their Sunday best.

  ‘Mr Ellershaw told me to say he’s already in his own box. All the stewards know where he is, you have just to tell one of them whose guest you are.’ The carriage driver tipped his hat and left her to make her own way down the cobbles of Swan Yard and into the wide arched doorway of the music hall along with the other excited theatergoers.

  Mary-Anne stood looking around her. She’d never been in a place like it before. She may have made costumes for performers in New York, but she and John never any money to take in a show. The music hall was decorated in bright colours with posters on the walls and an orchestra was tuning up somewhere within the walls. The gold painted ceiling was hung with gas lights that flickered with the draught created by the crowds of people coming in to the theatre. People were queuing up excitedly at the ticket box offices and couples were smiling and giggling as they made their way through to the main auditorium.

  ‘May I help you?’ A young steward dressed in a navy coloured uniform with brass buttons in two rows on the front of his jacket made himself known to Mary-Anne as she stood in awe of the magnificent building.

  ‘Thank you. I’m Mr William Ellershaw’s guest. I believe he has his own box?’ Mary-Anne didn’t quite know what she was asking for. What was a box? She thought to herself as the young steward smiled and asked her to follow him up winding stairs to somewhere above the main stage.

  The steward pulled the heavy red velvet curtain to one side, revealing a small private seating area. William was sitting in one of the four chairs, leaning over the ornate gilt edge of the box, looking down upon the gathering crowds and stage. He turned round.

  ‘Mary-Anne, you made it! I’m so glad. I hope you will forgive me for sending my carriage to pick you up. I thought it was perhaps best. People talk and I knew once you were here, we could be reasonably private.’ William rose from his seat, took Mary-Anne’s hand and kissed it gently.

  ‘I hope you are not insinuating that we are doing anything wrong? After all, are we not just good friends?’ In the surroundings of the theatre, William looked even more handsome – the picture of the perfect Victorian gent, one that any self-respecting woman would be proud to sit next to.
A ruby stud glistened in his collar and an expensive-looking gold pocket watch hung from his waistcoat pocket. She sat down in one of the red velvet and gilt chairs that he offered to her and smiled at him as she noticed his eyes take in her low-cut bodice under her shawl.

  ‘Of course, if that is what you wish. However, I will have to try and control myself, you look so wonderfully seductive.’ William let his hand linger on her shoulders as he sat down next to her.

  ‘And you look devilishly handsome, Mr Ellershaw. I don’t think I’m worthy of sitting next to you, and people will be talking. Perhaps we should keep our distance while we are sat up here.’ Mary-Anne pretended to be bashful, but at the same time, she was thinking of her next move once outside of the music hall. ‘Besides, you must consider that you are a married man and that your wife will be waiting for you to return to her arms.’

  William’s face darkened. ‘That she will not! Gone are those days and they were only a fleeting moment when she did make me welcome.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to cast a shadow over our evening.’ Mary-Anne reached out her hand to William and squeezed it. She looked around her. ‘I’ve never been in a music hall before, it is truly fascinating.’ She looked down at all the people waiting for the first act to appear on the grand stage. Palm plants in jardinières stood at either side of the stage and the rich golds of the decorated ceiling and balconies shone in the gaslight. The crowds erupted with clapping and shouting as the host of the evening climbed the small wooden stairs from the music pit where the orchestra was playing a favourite tune of the day. He struggled to make himself heard above the excited spectators as he stepped to the centre of the stage. He was dressed in an evening suit, his dark hair in a perfect centre parting. He had mutton chop sideboards and a sporty little black moustache and he glanced around him before putting his hands up into the air to quieten the crowd.

  ‘My lords, ladies, gentleman and most beautiful women of Leeds. It is my pleasure to welcome you to Thornton’s Music Hall, where tonight we have a wonderful selection of artists to titilate and amuse.’ He stopped for a second as the crowd whooped in anticipation.

  ‘Without further ado, please put your hands together for the sorrowful, heartbroken Mr Henry Clifton.’

  The host bowed as the curtains were pulled back to reveal a beautiful gentleman dressed as a milkman. He came to the front of the stage and started singing:

  I am a broken-hearted milkman, in grief I’m arrayed Through keeping of the company of a young servant maid

  Who lived on board and wages, the hose to keep clean In a gentleman’s family near Paddington Green

  She was as beautiful as a butterfly and proud as a Queen Was pretty little Polly Perkins of Paddington Green

  He smiled around at the audience holding his arms out and urging them to join in with him on the next chorus as he continued in the popular song about his unrequited love for Polly Perkins.

  She’d an ankle like an antelope and a step like a deer

  A voice like a blackbird, so mellow and clear

  Her hair hung in ringlets so beautiful and long

  I thought that she loved me but I found I was wrong

  ‘Altogether now, everybody sing:

  She was as beautiful as a butterfly and proud as a Queen

  Was pretty Polly Perkins of Paddington Green

  Mary-Anne looked across at William and saw him laughing as the singer carried on with the next verse and watched as he sang along with the chorus. She could get used to having him by her side and enjoying evenings like this one. She listened to the next verse and then grinned as she joined William in the last chorus, both of them laughing and cheering as the singer finished his performance. All thoughts of revenge were forgotten as she enjoyed act after act.

  The last act to be announced was the most popular, and clearly beloved by the audience. Mary-Anne sang happily along with William. His name was George Leybourne and he swayed about the stage – always in danger of toppling over, pretending he was drunk – amusing the crowd as he pretended to swig from an empty champagne bottle in his ragged evening dress, singing a song even Mary-Anne had heard of, ‘Champagne Charlie’. The crowd bayed for more as his performance came to an end and the host of the show called for everyone to make their way out of the theatre.

  William couldn’t help but notice how enthralled Mary-Anne had been with the evening. ‘I come here at least once a month, it would be my pleasure for you to accompany me on my visits.’

  Mary-Anne pulled her shawl around her. ‘I’d very much enjoy that. I have had a most enjoyable evening.’ She took William’s hand as they made their way out of the box and down the stairs to the busy crowds and the fresh air of the dark night.

  ‘May I be like Burlington Bertie, and offer you a glass of champagne before we both retire? After all, to quote the song, “By Pop! Pop! I rose to fame, I’m the idol of barmaids and Champagne Charlie is my name.”’ William sang as he took Mary-Anne’s arm and escorted her along Swan Lane.

  ‘I thought we were not to be seen with one another?’ Mary-Anne glanced up at him as he walked up the cobbles with her on his arm, in full view of the busy crowd.

  ‘What does it matter? I have a feeling that we will be seeing a lot of one another over the coming months. This time I aim to court you correctly. I don’t see you arguing about me taking your arm.’

  ‘But your wife, William! You are married.’ Mary-Anne stopped in her tracks and acted surprised at his admission of wanting to court her.

  ‘She means nothing to me, we are only married in name. We never loved one another – or at least I never did. We were both just eager to prove our worth to our parents.’ William stood face to face with Mary-Anne and held her arms tight. ‘Now, why don’t we stop fooling one another and be truthful: we both desire one another. The chance of us both remaining just friends is very slim.’

  Mary-Anne looked into William’s eyes, remembering how she’d looked into them once before and had fallen for the warmth she had seen in them. But she remembered too that she’d also seen a wicked man who had to have his way. However, this time it was what she wanted, this is what she had planned, and he was hers to take. She should kiss him now, but everyone would see.

  ‘It’s true I do find you handsome and if you are willing to accept the gossip and slander that we will endure if we do become more than friends than I am willing to also.’ Mary-Anne put her arm back into his and walked by his side. The smell of his Bay Rum cologne filled her nose as she placed her head on his shoulder for a brief second. She knew the herby cologne was expensive and only the very rich wore it.

  ‘We were made for one another and I have always regretted my hasty actions towards you. Now let us have a glass of champagne to celebrate us becoming more than friends and put the past behind us.’ William stopped outside The Grand hotel and bar.

  ‘Never mind the champagne, follow me.’ Mary-Anne led him up the darkened alley between buildings. ‘Now, don’t you get too carried away but let us seal this night with a kiss away from prying eyes. I’ve no need of champagne. My head is dizzy with the excitement of the night already.’

  William pushed Mary-Anne against the wall and held her tight, kissing her passionately before untying her shawl and caressing her breasts.

  ‘Now, just a kiss, that’s all for now. I’m not one of those whores on a street corner and don’t you forget it.’ Mary-Anne pushed him back and pulled her shawl around her shoulders.

  ‘You are teasing me. Don’t tease me too much, Mary-Anne. I won’t be able to help myself.’ William kissed her neck and smelt her perfumed hair.

  ‘Enough, William. If we are to see one another again, that is enough for tonight.’ Mary-Anne pushed her way past him back into the gas-lighted street and hailed a horse and cab that was standing just outside The Grand, waiting to take worse-for-wear revelers home. It was time to leave her conquest and to keep him wanting more.

  ‘Have lunch with me next Monday, at Whitelocks?’ William asked as
he gave her his hand to steady her climb into the carriage. ‘One o’clock, I’ll wait for you.’

  ‘If I can make it I’ll be there, William. Thank you for a lovely evening and goodnight.’ Mary-Anne blew him a kiss before sitting back in the cab and smiling to herself. Her first flirtation with William had shown her just how much he wanted her, but it had also brought old longings back to her. Perhaps she was playing with fire. No doubt time would tell.

  ‘Well, at least you’ve returned in one piece and you look as if you’ve had a good night.’ Ma Fletcher leaned on one elbow in her bed and watched as Mary-Anne threw down her shawl and hummed to herself as she placed the copper kettle on the dying embers of the kitchen fire. ‘Did he try anything on with you? I hope you told him where to go, if he did.’

  ‘I’ve had a wonderful night, Ma. William Ellershaw can be quite a gentleman when he wants to be. It was me who had to do all the tempting.’ Mary-Anne sat down in her chair and reached for the button hook to undo the buttons on her boots while she waited for the kettle to boil.

  ‘Now, don’t you be forgetting who he is and lose sight of why you are doing this. He’s still a bastard and don’t you forget it.’ Ma Fletcher laid back in bed and pulled her covers over herself, sighing at the excitement she could see in Mary-Anne’s eyes.

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t forget. But I’m going to enjoy myself while getting even, of that you can be sure.’

  Chapter 23

  ‘Why are you still awake?’

  William walked into the drawing room of Levensthorpe Hall to find Priscilla sitting in her chair next to the fireplace. He walked over to the sideboard and took the key that unlocked the Tantalus from his waistcoat pocket before pouring himself a large whisky and swigging it back in one, then pouring himself another and sitting across from his wife.