'But she usually gets over it?' Evangeline was growing uneasy, too.
'Usually ...' The waiter set Nova's soup down before her and she dived into it with relief. Now she could avoid talking, as well as eye contact.
But you can't make soup last for ever and, when she surfaced, with only a few more spots on her ruffles, Evangeline was still waiting.
'What are her favourite flowers?'
'Umm ...' Nova found something very interesting to look at on the far wall. 'I ... I wouldn't bother with any more flowers, if I were you. The ones you sent ... Well, I fished them out of the wastebasket and they're in my room now. I hope you don't mind.'
'Not at all.' Evangeline's jawline tightened. 'Did she throw everything else away, too?'
'She wanted to, but we wouldn't let her. She fed most of the tea cakes and biscuits to Tex. And the others took care of the liquor. Lucy did eat most of the chocolates herself,' she added consolingly.
'What others?' Evangeline pounced.
'Those ... Irishmen!' Nova spoke with some venom. 'They're underfoot all the time now. And ... and ...' She looked away unhappily. 'Lucy gave me a message for you. But I don't want to tell you ... I don't want to believe it myself ...'
Uh-oh. I exchanged glances with Evangeline.
'Come along,' Evangeline encouraged. 'It can't be as bad as you think. Lucy will have to come round eventually. And I still –' She smiled with the triumph of one who held the upper hand. 'I still have the script – and I insist on returning it to her myself. Personally.'
'That's just it.' Nova sniffled. 'She says you can keep it! She isn't interested any more.'
'What?' Evangeline paled. She had two-thirds of a first act; without the rest of the play, it was useless.
'She can't mean it,' I said.
'She can! She does!' Nova took an unsteady breath.
'That ... that... Irishman ... got at her. She's hypnotized by him! They're going to collaborate! They're going to write an Epic Poem about an ancient Celtic King of Ireland and his noble ... damned! ... Irish wolfhound!'
I snatched the plate out of her way just in time.
She hurled herself forward on to the table, burying her head in her forearms and burst into loud howling sobs.
Evangeline shuddered. 'Thank heavens we didn't go to the Savoy,' she murmured.
We dried Nova's tears, listened to her fears, got her fed and, eventually, got rid of her.
It didn't help our dispositions to find Nigel hovering in the entrance hall when we got back to base.
'Ah! Ah, good!' He darted forward, blocking our path to the lifts. 'I was hoping to run into you. I'd, ah, like a word with you.'
'Yes?' We paused and looked at him impatiently.
'Ah!' He shifted from one foot to the other and back again. 'A word with you,' he repeated, looking pointedly at Evangeline.
'Don't mind me.' I can take a hint. I began to move away. 'I'll see you later. I'd like to lie down for a bit, anyway.'
'Are you all right?' Nigel's voice rose with alarm. 'There's nothing wrong?'
'No, but I haven't felt quite right since the other night. Being half asphyxiated, first by smoke, then by strangulation, doesn't really do anything to improve your digestion. I've had, I guess you could call it, a nervous stomach ever since.' And perhaps I had eaten a bit too much at the Ivy, but I wasn't going to admit that.
'Ah! Yes!' Nigel did not look much the happier for my explanation. 'I see. Get some rest. Best thing, probably.'
'I knew you shouldn't have had those profiteroles,' Evangeline was quick to criticize. 'And, as for having cream on top –' She shuddered. 'You've brought it on yourself.'
I began walking away while she was still pointing out my iniquities. Just before I got out of earshot, I heard Nigel say: 'I've had a rather odd telephone call from Ledbetter ...'
I must have fallen asleep. When I opened my eyes, it was dark outside. After a long moment, I became aware of a motionless figure silhouetted in the doorway, staring at me. That was what had disturbed my rest.
'Evangeline?' I sat up and blinked. The figure became recognizable. 'Evangeline, what is it?'
'I didn't mean to wake you.' She snapped the light on, completing the job. 'But, since you're awake anyway ...'
'What time is it?' I hadn't meant to fall asleep. I had intended to close my eyes for just a minute or two, then call Martha and arrange to get together with the children.
'Six o'clock,' Evangeline said. 'I thought it would be better to let you sleep until we were ready.'
'Ready for what?' I looked at her with suspicion. 'The last I heard, we didn't have any plans for tonight.'
'Mmm, yes. That's been changed, I'm afraid. Time is flying, after all, and I thought we should take a look at the revised Gather Ye Rosebuds at the Happy Larry as soon as possible. Tonight, if you're feeling up to it.'
'I'm OK.' All the better for having had a nap, but still a bit puzzled. 'What did Nigel have to say?'
'Several very interesting things.' She turned away. 'He's calling Ledbetter to let the club know we'll see them there tonight.'
'Do we have to? I really enjoyed that lunchtime theatre when they weren't around.'
'We'll keep them at a distance. Nigel will escort us – and I've also invited Terence. He's flying to Los Angeles tomorrow with ... with Sweetums. It will cheer him to have some company and see a show tonight.'
'Considering it's where Sweetums died – and even the same show – I doubt that it's going to cheer him very much.' Honestly, sometimes Evangeline could be so obtuse.
'Even so, it will be better for him than sitting home alone and brooding.' Evangeline had no doubts. 'He said so himself. He quite jumped at the invitation.'
Oh, well, if it wasn't going to bother him, why should I feel sensitive on his behalf? Maybe she had a point.
'And ...she added with elaborate casualness ... 'Ron will meet us there.'
'Ron?' It took me a moment to remember. 'You mean Superintendent Heyhoe?'
'It is his local,' she said innocently. Too innocently.
'Evangeline, what are you up to?'
'Nothing. Nothing at all. Now hurry up and get changed, if you're going to.' She turned again and clumped from the room.
Clumped? I got up and followed her, staring incredulously at her feet. She appeared to be shod in ungainly lumps that were a cross between black trainers and old-fashioned diving boots – the sort they strapped on the diver just before the great heavy helmet was lowered on to his head and he went down to collect the sunken treasure on the sea bed, only to have to fight to the death with the giant octopus he found guarding it.
'Evangeline, what the hell have you got on your feet?'
'Doc Martens.' She lifted each foot, with some difficulty, for my inspection. 'All the rage. Do you like them?'
'They don't really do anything for you.'
'Don't they?' She regarded them absently. 'Give them time. I think they'll do a lot.'
'Evangeline –' The last time I'd seen her in anything like that was in Klara of the Klondike, when she strapped on her lover's diving boots and stomped in to wreck the saloon where the baddies had stolen all his money in a crooked poker game.
'Evangeline, you're not going to wear those tonight!'
'They have to be broken in,' she said. 'I wouldn't dream of taking them off now.'
'Welcome! Welcome!' Barry Lane came forward to greet our party as we entered the Happy Larry. I noticed that his handclasp with Evangeline was prolonged and he looked straight into her eyes, nodding for emphasis as an unspoken message passed between them.
'Ron will be a little late,' he said, 'but he'll definitely be here by the interval.'
'The interval.' Terence gave a deep sigh. This pub did not hold the happiest of memories for him – and the interval had provided the worst memory.
'You're sure you wouldn't like a bite to eat before the show?' Barry asked. 'I'll fix it myself.'
'Thanks, but I'm not hungry,' I said.
>
'After that lunch, I should think not,' Evangeline said. 'Nor am I. I warned Nigel to eat before we left –'
'Ah! Quite!' Nigel agreed. 'Full! Couldn't manage another mouthful.'
'Unless Terence –?' Evangeline looked at him.
'No, no.' He blanched. 'I couldn't. Not here. Oh, no offence,' he assured Barry hastily. 'But ...' He looked at the stairs. 'Not here.'
'Of course, of course.' Barry took no offence. 'I understand. A drink, perhaps?'
'Later,' Evangeline said, looking beyond him. 'I see everyone is here.'
'Oh, no question of that. You've got quite a claque there. Every single one of them told me you'd be coming tonight. I didn't let on that I already knew.'
'Good.' Evangeline waved absently to the young men, but turned away as they started towards us, Greg and Adam in the lead.
'I think we'll go straight upstairs and get good seats. Come along, Terence.' Evangeline took his arm as Sweetums had once done.
'Just a minute.' At the foot of the stairs, Terence stopped. For a moment, I thought he would go no farther, but that wasn't what he had in mind.
'It was right here –' His voice broke. 'This ... very ... spot.' He reached up and removed the white carnation from his buttonhole. Head bowed, he solemnly dropped the carnation on to the spot where Sweetums had lain. Where Sweetums had died.
The gesture halted Adam and Greg in their tracks. The others piled up behind them. They sorted themselves out and began backing away. This was too graphic a reminder of what had happened here.
'Shall we continue?' Terence offered his arm to Evangeline again. They circled around the carnation and ascended the stairs, the dignity of the occasion only slightly marred by the clumping of Evangeline's Doc Martens. I hoped I was the only one to notice.
I took Nigel's arm, since he seemed to expect it, and we started up the stairs behind them. Something hard and oddly shaped in his jacket pocket bumped against me sharply. Another bruise, I supposed. What was one more amongst so many?
'Are we going backstage?' It would be a while before the show started. I didn't see why we couldn't have waited downstairs.
'Afterwards, perhaps.' Evangeline was fully occupied in deciding the best place to sit. 'Or perhaps not. Not for long, anyway. Just long enough to invite that nice girl and her genius boyfriend to lunch with us at the Ivy tomorrow.'
'If they ever let us in again,' I muttered.
Disregarding me, Evangeline chose a row and waved Terence forward. Nigel stepped back to let me go ahead of him.
Oddly, we wound up with Evangeline and me in the middle, Terence and Nigel on the outside on either side, rather than the usual mixed seating. No one else seemed to think it odd, however, so I dismissed it with a mental shrug. Perhaps Evangeline had had enough of Nigel.
The few musicians who were masquerading as an orchestra took their places and began playing. It couldn't be called an overture; it was a medley of songs from the show interspersed with some old standards. If it weren't for the new original numbers, I could have grown quite nostalgic. As it was, I was conscious of a faint rising excitement. Maybe something was going to come of this, after all. If the writers couldn't come up with something quite right, surely Hugh would know a good play doctor who could work on the material. Evangeline was right: Hugh had been neglecting us lately.
The room was filling up now and there was a buzz of activity in the wings. I heard the bell sound in the distance and felt quite smug at being comfortably settled in my seat for a change.
On the second bell, the Open and Shut Club straggled in. Greg and Ledbetter came over to us, each carrying a drink in both hands.
'Something to see you through the first act.' Greg handed brandy snifters containing double measures to Evangeline and me. Ledbetter – somewhat grudgingly, I thought – presented Terence and Nigel with half-pints of beer.
'How kind,' Evangeline cooed. A corner of her mouth twitched.
'Ah! Thanks!' Nigel looked at his as though wondering what to do with it. I realized I had never seen him drink anything so plebeian as beer.
'See you at the interval.' Greg and Ledbetter went off to the seats their friends were saving for them.
As I raised the glass to my lips, I felt a tug at my elbow.
'Don't drink it!' Evangeline said ventriloquially.
Startled, I turned to look at her. All her attention seemed to be centred raptly on the stage. She spoke again without moving her lips: 'Pretend to sip it. When the lights go down, pass it to Nigel.'
What on earth? I kept my own face blank and did as directed. The liquid sloshed around in my glass; no one watching could tell that I hadn't swallowed any of it. Evangeline did the same.
Beside me, Nigel put his hand in his pocket, not withdrawing it until the lights went down. Then he swiftly placed his glass of beer on the floor and used both hands to hold and uncap a small bottle. When I gave him my glass, he poured the contents into the bottle, recapped it and replaced it in his pocket.
On the other side of Evangeline, Terence was doing the same with her drink. The show had started, but I was too bemused to have any interest in it.
Had paranoia finally set in? Or did Evangeline know something I didn't know?
19
The first act flew past and, despite my misgivings, I got caught up in it. The skits had been tightened up, the new songs were funny and poignant, the pace of the whole thing was faster and I blinked in disbelief when the lights went up.
The Open and Shutters moved towards us purposefully, but Cara Knowlton got there first.
'Barry told us you'd be here tonight,' she said. 'Please come backstage and have a drink.' She giggled unexpectedly. 'He's even supplied the champagne.'
'We'd be delighted.' Evangeline led as we followed Cara beyond the curtain to the region where the uninvited dared not tread. I caught a glimpse of disgruntled faces behind us as the curtain cut us off from them. Too bad, boys, we'll see you after the show – if we can't avoid it.
As the champagne splashed into my glass, I glanced at Evangeline questioningly. She nodded agreement, so I sipped my first drink of the evening. The cast clustered round us. Terence and Nigel were having a wonderful time and I was enjoying it myself. Evangeline made the date for the Ivy tomorrow and, all too soon, the interval had ended and we were back in our seats.
The second act wasn't quite as good as the first but, as everyone had assured us, they were still working on it. Or maybe part of the problem was that prickly feeling I was getting at the back of my neck, the sensation you get when you're being secretly observed.
I rubbed my hand across the nape of my neck and looked over my shoulder. Everyone seemed to be watching the stage and yet I got the impression that someone's gaze had just shifted.
'Are you all right?' Evangeline whispered.
'I guess so.' Definitely, no one had me under observation now. The strong sensation had gone, but left a lingering aftermath. I kept wanting to look over my shoulder and catch those staring hostile eyes.
'It won't be much longer,' Evangeline said. 'Nearly over now.'
Somehow, that failed to cheer me. I realized that I didn't want to leave the refuge of my seat and walk down those stairs – those deadly stairs. And ... wasn't there a faint mocking scent of heliotrope in the air? Perhaps because Terence was with us, Sweetums suddenly seemed very close.
That didn't cheer me, either. We had always made a point of keeping a good distance from Sweetums in life; I certainly didn't want to be close to her now.
The storm of enthusiastic applause lifted us from our seats in a standing ovation. There might still be work to be done on the show, but the audience at the Happy Larry had no doubt that they were present at the birth of a hit.
'Terrific, wasn't it?' Adam and the others surrounded us as we remained in our seats, waiting for the audience to file out. 'Too bad the Sylvesters couldn't make it. I'm sure they would have loved it.'
'Perhaps they'll come another night,' Greg said hopef
ully.
'I fear not.' Evangeline dashed his hopes. 'Beau and Juanita have gone back to their home in the country. They won't be visiting Town again for quite some time.'
'Oh.' I knew Adam had a thing about Juanita, but I was surprised to see Greg look so disappointed.
'Come and have a drink with us.' A friendly hand on my shoulder usually doesn't make me jump, but tonight it did. I turned sharply and Ledbetter snatched his hand away as though I'd slapped it.
That crawling feeling had returned to the nape of my neck and was inching down my spine.
'You boys go ahead,' Evangeline said. 'We'll be along in a minute.'
They seemed obscurely dissatisfied by this decision but, as we remained seated and Evangeline embarked on a low voiced, obviously private conversation with Terence, they had to accept it.
'Nigel,' I said, 'what's happening? Why have you got my drink in your pocket?'
'Ah! Good question!' he said and lapsed into a brooding silence.
'Well,' I prompted, 'what's the answer?'
'What, indeed? Orders! Just following orders.' He nodded at Evangeline.
'The stairs should be clear now.' Evangeline rose. 'Shall we join the ... gentlemen?'
She led the way. Although the staircase was deserted Nigel and Terence remained protectively by our sides. Looking down, I could see that the Open and Shutters had claimed a large table in a corner and were watching our progress, gesturing for us to join them. Again, I had the sensation that someone was watching me intently. Too intently.
'You seem to be Flavour of the Month, Trixie.' Evangeline had noticed it, too. 'Star of the Show. So why don't you give them a show?'
'There's no music here,' I pointed out. 'What do you want me to do – slide down the banister?'
'A simple death scene will suffice. Give the audience want it wants.'
'Now, listen –' The look in her eyes stopped me cold. She wasn't kidding.
The carnation was still in place at the foot of the stairs, neither trodden on nor kicked aside. Everyone had respectfully walked around it, recognizing its sinister implication. I stared at it, mesmerized. Was it my imagination that the scent of heliotrope seemed to waft upwards from it?
Break a Leg, Darlings Page 17
