by Lyn Gardner
“Have you talked to Edward about this? Does he think that performing in a music hall is unbefitting for his daughter?” asked Rose, rising to her feet, and again the pain in her heart made the word “befitting” come out with a snarl.
Aurora shook her head helplessly. “No, I haven’t spoken to him. But people whisper. You know they do, whispering about the lord’s daughter who performs on a music-hall stage.”
“Ignore them, they’re just narrow-minded, stuck-up cows. Why do you want their approval? They’re not worth it. Anyway, Edward performs on stage too,” said Rose.
“It’s not at all the same,” said Aurora. “It may be unusual for a lord to be on stage playing Hamlet, but it’s the legitimate theatre. The Pall Mall attracts audiences from the cream of society. Lydia says it’s not the same as me dressing up as a boy to be gawped at by all and sundry.”
Rose gave a snort. “Gawped at by all and sundry? Oh, Rory, I didn’t know you had turned into such a little snob.”
“Don’t be unfair, Rose,” said Aurora. “I can’t help who I am. I never asked to be born the daughter of a lord. I can’t help that I’m a lady now, and have to behave like one. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. I won’t be performing the bicycle act any more. Maybe you could ask Effie, now she’s got a taste for being on stage. She’d be good at it.”
Rose was so distraught she didn’t notice the crack in Aurora’s voice.
“Good at it because she’s not a lady and nobody could ever mistake her for one, I suppose!” said Rose sarcastically. “I had no idea, Miss High and Mighty Lady Aurora, that you have been looking down your nose at us all this time.”
“I haven’t,” wailed Aurora. “It’s just I feel as if I’m being torn apart. It’s not just the toffs who whisper. When I’m at Campion’s, people talk too. They treat me differently, as if I’m not quite one of them any more. Edward doesn’t notice, but I do because I know what it was like before, when I was just Aurora Scarletti, the Infant Phenomenon.” She sighed. “This is going to sound terrible, but sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock. Sometimes I wish that it was you who had turned out to be Edward’s daughter and not me. Sometimes I just want everything to go back to how it was before I discovered I was the daughter of a lord, when you and I were first friends and we were working on the bicycle act together.” Her eyes welled tears.
Rose gave a sad little smile. “There have been times when I envied you having found your real father, and knowing who you really are, rather than being a nobody like me, abandoned on a doorstep with no history, not even a name. Oh, Rory, I’m sorry,” said Rose, flinging her arms around Aurora. “I know it must be difficult for you. I don’t really think you’re a snob. I don’t know why I said it. I was hurt that you want to give up the bicycle act. It won’t be the same without you. Maybe I’ll retire it – I don’t want to do it with anyone else, not even Effie.”
“I wish it could be different,” whispered Aurora tearfully.
The two stood in silence for a moment.
Then Aurora asked, “There’s something else bothering you, Rosie, isn’t there? Did something happen that you’re not telling me about?”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Rose, twisting one of Rory’s rusty-brown curls through her fingers. She wasn’t going to risk upsetting Aurora by voicing her suspicions about Edward, the diamond merchant and the Doomstone.
“Go on, tell,” insisted Aurora.
Rose hesitated. She decided not to mention the man from the Anchor seeing Edward with Amy on the night she died. After all, it would sound as if she was accusing Edward of murder. But she quickly explained about seeing the man leaving the Pall Mall, following him to the bank and discovering he was a renowned diamond merchant.
“But why are you concerned about that?” asked Aurora with a frown.
Rose took a deep breath. “Because when I asked Grumbles at the stage door, the person the diamond merchant had come to see was … was … Edward.”
For a second Aurora looked at Rose, her face white with shock.
“I know,” stuttered Rose. “It’s just too silly to think that Edward could have had anything to do with the disappearance of the Doomstone.”
Two high spots of colour appeared on Aurora’s cheeks. “And that’s what you think, Rose?” Her voice was so steely and cold it made Rose feel as if a deep well had opened up inside her. “You think that my father is a thief?”
“I don’t know what to think,” she whispered.
Aurora eyes blazed. “Everyone always says that you’re so clever, Rose Campion. But I think you are a blind fool who thinks she knows better than everyone else, even the police, and who is trying to play detective when everyone, even Inspector Cliff, is convinced that Amy stole the Doomstone and it’s at the bottom of the Thames with her. But will you listen? No, because you think you are cleverer than everyone else, and go round telling all sorts of lies to get information, and making wild accusations without any real evidence. You disgust me, Rose.”
“I’m not saying that Edward had anything to do with the disappearance of the Doomstone,” protested Rose desperately.
“But that’s what you think, isn’t it? You think he’s trying to dispose of it. How could you, Rose! When he’s been so kind and generous to Thomas, lending him money when he desperately needed it. How could you even think that my father might be involved in something shady? Is that what you really think of him, even when he’s been so kind to you, encouraging you in your acting? Is this how you repay him? By thinking the very worst of him?”
“I don’t know what to think,” whispered Rose. “All I know is that Mr Drover had a meeting with Edward, and I thought it was strange, given Mr Drover’s profession and the fact that he was present at Campion’s on the night of the disappearance of the Doomstone.”
“Well, I don’t know why Mr Drover was at Campion’s that night. Diamond merchants have as much right to go to the music hall to see a magic act as anyone else. It’s hardly suspicious behaviour. But I’ll tell you exactly why Mr Drover was here at the theatre to see my father. He came to bring back one of the Easingford family diamonds that has been recut and reset to make a ring. An engagement ring. Edward has proposed to Lydia and she has accepted. They are to have a private marriage ceremony at St Olave’s Church, the day after tomorrow at ten p.m. They are both keen to avoid any publicity. So Edward is not secretly disposing of the Doomstone that you seem to think he has stolen, he is simply marrying Lydia.”
Aurora burst into noisy tears and Rose wasn’t at all sure if she was now crying because she was so angry and outraged at Rose’s accusation, or because Edward and Lydia were getting married.
“Oh, Rory, forgive me,” said Rose, taking a step towards her friend.
Aurora put up her hands to stop her. “Don’t you dare touch me, Rose Campion. I want nothing more to do with you. I know where all your nasty allegations come from: jealousy. You’re just jealous that I’ve found my father, and now I’m getting a mother too. And you, you have neither.”
Rose’s eyes filled with tears. If Aurora had pierced her skin with a knife she couldn’t have felt more pain. She remembered Aurora screaming at Lizzie Gawkin all those months ago when the truth of her birth had been discovered: “Rose Campion may not be my blood twin, but she will be my sister forever.” To Rose it felt as if the bond between her and Aurora had been broken, and she didn’t know how it could ever be repaired. She was such an idiot. She should have listened to Effie. The man from the Anchor must have made a mistake. All her suspicions were misplaced, and in her foolish attempt to play detective she had created a tear in her relationship with Rory that might never be mended.
19
Rose, Thomas and Edward had just taken their seats at a table near the front of Campion’s auditorium. Gandini and Effie were unveiling their new act. Rose, Thomas and Edward had recently come from Thomas’s office, which Effie was using as a dressing room. Edward had brought Effie flowers, a thoughtful gesture and one
that had made Rose feel even more guilty about her suspicions of him. They chatted with Effie, who showed no sign of nerves, until she said that it was time for her to go downstairs and join Gandini in his dressing room.
“He says he finds it more soothing to have me with him just before a show,” said Effie.
Lydia had given Effie an effusive kiss, wrapping her arms around her, and they had all set off downstairs together. Lydia had stopped to talk to the backstage hands, including Tobias, who as usual was very attentive.
Effie tripped off towards Gandini’s dressing room with a big, confident smile on her face. Rose and Thomas grinned at each other to see Effie so self-assured and happy. She was transformed.
There was a mounting sense of excitement in the auditorium, which was packed to the rafters. It was as if the crowd sensed that something momentous was going to happen, even though there had been no formal announcement that tonight Gandini would be performing the notorious bullet catch. But somehow word seemed to have got around.
When Gandini had advised Thomas what he was planning, Thomas had expressed his concerns about the trick being performed at Campion’s. Several stage magicians had died trying it, and Thomas didn’t want blood on his hands.
“But, Thomas, Mr Gandini is a perfectionist,” said Effie. “We’ve bin practising it for weeks. It’s foolproof.”
“If you had met as many idiots as I have over the years, you’d know that no trick’s ever foolproof, Effie,” said Thomas, shaking his head. “I don’t like it at all. What if somebody gets injured?”
“They won’t,” said Gandini calmly. “The only person who could possibly get hurt is me, but if it makes you happier, perhaps on this first occasion that I perform the trick at Campion’s I won’t pick somebody completely at random to pull the trigger. Instead I’ll choose somebody who I am certain is utterly trustworthy to point the gun and fire.” He gazed at Thomas.
“You want me to do it?” said Thomas, looking thunderstruck. “I really don’t think so. Even the thought makes my hand shake.”
“Then I will ask Edward. I’m sure he will oblige. He is a trustworthy man. I have talked to him about the trick and its notorious history. He is very interested in it and I’m sure he’ll do it. If not, Effie will pull the trigger. She has already proved herself brave enough to do it during practice, and I admire her for it. My previous assistants were far too squeamish, but it is always better if it is not my assistant who fires the shot but someone else, otherwise the audience may think they have been conned.”
So it had been settled that Edward would point and fire the gun, although of course only he, Thomas, Rose, Effie and Gandini would know that he had been pre-selected to do the deed. Rose had tried to get Effie to explain to her exactly how the trick worked, but she had refused to tell her.
“It would just spoil it for you,” said Effie, “knowing what Mr Gandini calls the mechanics of it. Just enjoy the illusion.”
“But Gandini isn’t actually going to catch the bullet between his teeth, is he?”
Effie snorted with laughter. “Rosie, I know Mr Gandini is a remarkably gifted conjuror, but do you honestly think he has iron teeth? The point is to make people believe that he has. That’s the fun of it.”
“But aren’t you scared?” pressed Rose.
Effie shook her head. “I’m completely confident that nothing will go wrong. Trust me, it will be champagne and lemonade on the house tonight.”
Now the hall was humming with excitement as Rose took her seat next to Thomas. Lydia slipped into the seat next to Edward and gave him a beaming smile, and then turned to Rose and smiled too, a melting, unaffected greeting. Edward had turned and was talking to someone behind him.
“Lydia,” said Rose quietly, deciding to seize her chance. “I’ve been meaning to apologise to you since the day the inspector was here announcing Amy’s suicide.”
“Whatever for?” asked Lydia lightly.
Rose bit her lip. “It’s just that I feel bad. I accidentally overheard you and Stratford-Mark talking in the prop store that day. I’m sorry, it was obviously a private conversation about a private arrangement, and not meant for other ears.”
For a second there was a tiny frozen silence, and then Lydia said smoothly, “There is nothing for you to apologise for, Rose. Our conversation was of no consequence. I was merely expressing my desire to Stratford-Mark to give my Lady Macbeth opposite Edward, and not him. He is far too old and unfit. Unsurprisingly, Stratford-Mark was not at all happy and insisted on holding me to our agreement.” She gave a laugh that sounded like a mountain waterfall. “It does not matter. Edward and I will have many, many opportunities to act opposite each other in the future. And it does not matter, Rose, that you accidentally heard us.” She said the word accidentally as if she had smothered it in butter in order to help it slip down more easily, which made Rose turn bright pink. She was relieved when Thomas leaned across to talk to Lydia.
Rose imagined that once they were married, Edward and Lydia would indeed constantly perform together. She looked around. Campion’s had never looked so beautiful and vibrant. The increased revenues of recent weeks had meant that Thomas had been able to repair the gilt on the mirrors and touch up the eggshell-blue interiors. The place glittered and sparkled. Rose believed it was every bit as beautiful as the Pall Mall, and she knew that when word got round that Gandini was performing the famed bullet catch, the place would heave for weeks to come. Thomas would be able to repay Edward’s loan far more quickly than he ever imagined. It was such a turnaround in Campion’s fortunes since the beginning of the year.
The only thing that detracted from Rose’s pleasure was Aurora’s absence. She had not accompanied Edward and Lydia to Campion’s. Edward said that she had cried off at the last moment, saying she was not feeling well, but insisting that he and Lydia still go. But when Edward had explained Rory’s absence, Rose could see from his frown that he didn’t quite believe his daughter’s sudden indisposition and was puzzled by her reluctance to come to Campion’s, the place she had always professed to love most in the world, and where her two best friends lived. Rose sighed. She had told Effie about what had passed between her and Aurora. Effie had eyed her beadily and said she wasn’t at all surprised that Rory was upset.
“You accused her father of being dishonourable,” she said. “I did warn you, Rosie.” Her voice was sad, not gloating. “Once tonight is over I’ll go and see her, and maybe she’ll come round. But, Rosie, you’ve got to promise to drop all this detective business. The man at the Anchor must have been mistaken about seeing Edward with Amy. Just accept that Amy stole the Doomstone and drowned herself because she couldn’t live with what she had done. Case closed.”
Chastened, Rose nodded.
“Do you think Rory minds very much about Edward marrying Lydia?” asked Effie.
“Yes,” said Rose. “She’s putting a brave face on it but I think she’s distraught. But what can she do? Edward and Lydia are in love, and it’s not any ordinary love. When they met in Edward’s dressing room after the first night of Hamlet it was like watching two people being struck by lightning at the moment they set eyes on each other. Maybe one day they will fall out of love just as quickly and hate each other with a passion. But for now, Rory must know that if she comes between them in any way, her own relationship with her father might be damaged forever. She has to grit her teeth and bear it, and maybe it will all turn out fine. But I just have the feeling that once she’s Lady Easingford, and however much she loves Edward, Lydia may be far less charming than she appears.”
Effie shook her head. Rose put her hands up. “All right, Effie, I know. I’m speculating again. I hope I’m wrong and they all live happily ever after together.”
Now sitting next to Thomas, Edward and Lydia, and feeling Aurora’s absence in the empty chair beside her, Rose wished that she had never heard of the wretched Doomstone. It was as if it had cursed her relationship with Aurora. She sighed. If Effie couldn’t repair the fr
actured friendship, then sooner or later Edward and Thomas were going to find out about the rift between her and Aurora, and when they did it was going to be awkward for the two men. Rose wanted to rush up to Edward and confess how her misplaced suspicions had been the cause, but now was not the moment to do it – the show was about to begin. She glanced around. There were so many familiar faces. Lots of regulars including the Tanner Street boys were out in force in the gallery. Anyone who wasn’t needed backstage had slipped into the auditorium to watch. Gandini had asked that the bar stop serving during his act tonight, and most of the bar staff, including Billy Proctor, were crowded around their table. Stratford-Mark had just arrived and heaved himself into the vacant seat at the table, murmuring mournful apologies for his tardiness. Lydia threw him a beatific smile and Stratford-Mark nodded amiably but with his eyes hooded like a watchful hawk.
Rose did a double-take as she spotted Inspector Cliff. What was he doing back at Campion’s? There had been much speculation among those working at Campion’s that something was afoot, and that the bullet catch was probably going to be performed tonight, but no announcement. Rose wondered how the rumours could have possibly spread all the way to Scotland Yard.
There was Gandini’s trademark puff of smoke and spark of flame, and then he emerged from out of the smoke, followed by Effie, who was dressed in a sparkling aquamarine gown. She looked very serious. She carried a red velvet cushion, upon which nestled a pistol. As soon as the audience spotted it, they cried out in excitement. Gandini raised a hand and immediately they fell silent.
“Ladies and gentlemen. My friends. Welcome.”
Rose watched Gandini closely. There was something different about him tonight. Rose realised that in the early stages of his performances you could normally spot the crucifying nerves that afflicted him every time he walked on stage. But this evening he seemed remarkably calm and focused, and there were no telltale signs of the sweat and nerves that had characterised the opening moments of his previous performances. He was calm – almost deadly calm, as if a storm was brewing deep behind his sea-green eyes. Rose wondered if something had happened before he came on stage – he was seldom so focused in the very first minutes of his act. Or maybe his demeanour was simply a reflection of the sheer gravity of what he was about to attempt, with all its attendant danger.
