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A Daughter's Secret

Page 14

by Anne Bennett


  Aggie nodded. Levingstone’s use of her full name showed the level of his irritation with her and she bit her lips to try to prevent the tears that she could feel gathering behind her eyes from trickling down her cheeks, for she knew that might truly anger the man.

  But with the acquiescent nod, Levingstone was satisfied. He turned to Colm and Tim. ‘So your work is almost at an end and you will both be well rewarded for this. I have hired a band for tonight to play the tunes for Aggie, and I would like you to put together a programme for her for two spots lasting at least an hour and a half each. If you can meet the band sometime tomorrow afternoon to go over the tempo I would be grateful.’

  ‘That will be no problem,’ Colm said, knowing that it would be easier for Aggie to dance to the best of her ability if they were to do this for her, but personally he thought it far too gruelling a programme. For all he worked Aggie hard, he would call a halt and let her rest if he really thought she was tiring, but he knew that there would be no let-up here. But what was the point of him saying any of this? Levingstone was the boss and what he said went, as far as Aggie was concerned. There was no doubt that he was fond of her – in fact you would be a hard man to please if your heart didn’t quicken when you caught sight of Aggie – but he also saw her as a commodity, a hook to get the punters in. He also knew that Aggie accepted the fact that Levingstone owned her body and soul, because her own survival depended on pleasing him. For Aggie, her fate was already sealed.

  As Levingstone predicted, that Saturday night Aggie caused a storm. He just announced her as ‘The little Irish girl with the golden feet’. The band struck up the introduction to ‘The Star of the County Down’ and Aggie danced on to the stage. She looking stunning in her shimmering white costume, her hair tied back from her face with a white silken ribbon and she circled the stage before stopping in front of the punters with a curtsy. There was a roar of approval.

  All afternoon, Aggie had practised with the band, but then Tim and Colm had been present too, and though the band members had all been nice enough, it was unnerving to be up on stage on her own. Leering ogling men stared at her and she wished her costume were longer.

  She had felt it was almost indecent to wear something so short when she had first put the dresses on, but then she had asked herself what she was thinking about. Who was she to worry about the length of her skirt as if she were a normal, respectable girl?

  With a slight sigh she gave a small nod to the band and, as they began to play the first skip reel, all nervousness dropped away from her.

  In the club, everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. Levingstone smiled to himself. He saw many lecherous and lascivious looks cast Aggie’s way and he knew most had undressed her in their mind’s eye and would be wanting to sample her other delights later. But that was his pleasure and his alone for a little while longer.

  The other girls too watched Aggie, some jealously, for none of the men seemed a bit interested in them now. They had eyes only for the girl on the stage.

  ‘The word is none of the men are to go with her,’ Hattie said to the others. ‘Not tonight, anyroad.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Maggie replied. ‘What’s she doing down here then, tantalising them and everything?’

  ‘Men are bloody easily tantalised, if you ask me,’ Brenda said with a grim smile.

  ‘Yeah, minds like sewers, most of them,’ Patsy agreed. ‘Only thinking about the one thing.’

  ‘Good job for us they do,’ Rita replied. ‘Wouldn’t we all be out of a job if men wasn’t like that?’ And the girls murmured in agreement.

  To rapturous applause, Aggie thankfully left the stage for her break. Men were falling over themselves to buy her a drink or even just talk to her and commend her on her performance. They knew it was all they were going to get for now – Levinstone had made that abundantly clear – but that state of affairs couldn’t go on for ever. When he released Agnes to ‘entertain’, as the other girls did, most were aware they would have to form an orderly queue for there would be many who would want to see what the little Irish girl had to offer.

  Levingstone guarded her almost jealously that night and saw many looking at him enviously. He knew Aggie would feel better with his arm wrapped around her as it was her first time in the club and she might be a little nervous.

  Aggie was more than nervous. She hated the men ogling her with eyes full of lewdness, which reminded her of McAllister, and yet she knew without being told that she had to smile and be polite to them, however rude she thought them. The longer she was kept out of their clutches the better she would like it, even if she had to dance her feet off.

  She was almost relieved when her break time was over. At least, on the stage she was away from them all.

  The second round of dancing got even more acclaim than the first, and Levingstone watched her proudly.

  Eventually Aggie came to the end and curtsied to the audience, to thunderous applause and calls for more.

  Levingstone shook his head as he went forward to claim her. ‘You will have to wait till tomorrow,’ he told his clients. ‘Agnes is tired.’

  She was more than tired, she was exhausted, and so, though Levingstone took her around and introduced her to people she hadn’t met before, he steered her to the back stairs to their quarters as some of the other girls were taking clients to the upstairs rooms.

  ‘Did I do all right?’ Aggie asked as she faced him across the bedroom.

  ‘Darling, you were marvellous, sensational,’ Levingstone said, taking her into his arms. ‘Later I will show you how grateful I am. Wait for me.’

  ‘I will, Alan.’

  However, when Levingstone returned to the bedroom, it was to find Aggie in a deep sleep, so deep that he hesitated to rouse her and he buried his frustration as he slid in beside her.

  The next afternoon, Aggie was resting and Levingstone was in the sitting room when there was a knock at the door downstairs. A few moments later Mary came in to tell him that Mr Donahue and Mr Furey would like a little word with him.

  ‘Show them in,’ Levingstone said.

  He wondered what they wanted to see him about, but shook hands warmly with them both and offered them a drink.

  ‘Whisky your tipple?’ he asked.

  ‘When I can afford it, sir,’ Colm said with a smile, taking the glass from him.

  ‘I don’t know why you are here,’ Levingstone said handing a glass to Tim, ‘though you are both very welcome. But maybe it isn’t me you have come to see at all, but Aggie. She is resting but I could always rouse her if you wish.’

  ‘No, sir,’ Colm said. ‘It is you we need to see, but it concerns Aggie.’

  ‘I am intrigued,’ Levingstone said. ‘Do go on.’

  ‘Would you mind if I spoke with you candidly, Mr Levingstone?’

  ‘Please do, Colm.’

  ‘Can I ask you how many nights a week you will require Aggie to dance?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought,’ Levingstone said. ‘She went down so well last night that I have engaged the band for this evening too. Why do you want to know?’

  ‘It’s just… well, to dance for three hours every night would be a tiring enough programme for anyone,’ Colm said. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Tim?’

  ‘I would. Especially for Aggie, for she always gives it everything. She dances with her whole body.’

  ‘That’s it,’ Colm said. ‘And on top of that she will have to practise every day as well.’

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind me also saying, sir,’ Tim said, ‘the ability and talent Aggie has is one that is seldom seen. She really is a superb little dancer and having her perform every day, as well as wearing her out, sort of cheapens what she does.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I know it is a little presumptuous of me because it is your club and you know the clientele and all, but if you made it that Aggie would just dance at the weekends, she would be the star turn, as it were.’

  Levingstone nodded. �
�Yes, I can see that. What you mean is, if Aggie was to perform every day then it would become commonplace?’

  ‘That is it exactly,’ Tim said. ‘Though commonplace is never a word anyone could use to describe what Aggie does.’

  ‘There is also the danger that she would become stale doing the same thing day after day,’ Colm said. ‘I used to see it myself in the competition world when people were over-rehearsed and the performance they gave then was often technically brilliant, but wooden. Aggie would always dance well – she is at one with the music – but if she were to lose her special sparkle, then that would be a tragedy.’

  ‘It would indeed,’ Levingstone agreed.

  ‘You don’t mind us speaking out this way?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Levingstone said. ‘In fact, I am gratified that Aggie has such champions in the pair of you. You have also given me some food for thought and I will rethink the whole issue of Aggie dancing, I promise.’

  When the two men had left, Levingstone thought long and hard about what they had said and knew the points they had made were valid ones. But if Aggie was not to dance so frequently, he didn’t know how he could justify keeping her out of the punters’ hands.

  Aggie was not told of the visit of Colm and Tim, and when Levingstone told her that she was not to dance on weekdays, she was part relieved and part alarmed. ‘What are you expecting me to do then instead?’

  ‘To be a charming companion on my arm,’ Levingstone said. ‘And go around talking to the punters.’

  ‘Talking?’ Aggie said surprised. ‘Is that all you want me to do?’

  ‘For now, yes.’

  ‘They will expect more, surely?’

  ‘Yes, well, what they expect and what they get are two entirely different things,’ Levingstone answered. ‘Will that bother you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Aggie might have said. ‘I want to go nowhere near those horrible, lustful men who undress me with their eyes.’ However, what she did say was, ‘No, I will be fine doing that,’ and Levingstone was satisfied.

  The punters were far from satisfied, though, and the other girls were resentful too.

  ‘Treating her like she is some sort of special case,’ Hattie said. ‘It isn’t fair.’

  ‘Whoever said life was fair anyway?’ Brenda asked.

  ‘Yeah, but come on. Nearly all of us have marked Levingstone’s card one way or another and then it is over and we’re down here and sleeping with whoever. Can you imagine what would happen to us if we said you can look but don’t touch?’

  ‘Don’t need much imagining, does it?’ Hattie remarked. ‘We’d be out on our ear, and sharpish too, I think.’

  ‘So what’s all this with Lady Muck?’

  ‘I dunno,’ said Patsy. ‘I mean, I am as mad as you, but it won’t be her doing, will it? It will be Levingstone’s decision and she’ll have to do what she’s told, same as the rest of us. He’s the boss, after all.’

  ‘He ain’t, though,’ Rita said. ‘That weasel-faced Rogers is boss of the whole shebang. Levingstone is just the manager. Wonder what Rogers will make of this if he ever gets wind of it.’

  ‘They’ll be fireworks, I’m thinking.’

  Aggie was aware of the slight animosity some of the girls directed her way and was sorry about it, but when she mentioned it to Levingstone he told her not to worry about it.

  ‘It’s none of their business,’ he said, drawing her into his arms.

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘But nothing.’ Levingstone kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘The only one you need to please is me. Remember that.’

  ‘Well,’ said Aggie, ‘have you got any complaints in that department?’

  Levingstone laughed. ‘Not so far. Let’s keep it that way.’

  ‘Right, sir,’ said Aggie, and gave Levingstone a mock salute. He patted her lightly on the bottom and laughed at her little squeal.

  Levingstone didn’t know what he did before Aggie had come into his life a mere eight weeks or so before. He had been world-weary, careworn and feeling every one of his forty-three years. Aggie made him feel young and far more alive.

  He was worried about her, though, because he didn’t know how long he would be able to go on denying Aggie to the punters when some of them were nearly panting with desire for her. He knew Aggie would hate it and he didn’t want to share her with anyone either. The thought of some of those men pawing at her made him feel physically sick but he knew he would have to get over that.

  When Rogers sent for him a fortnight later, it was almost expected. It was a Friday afternoon and Levingstone faced the man across the desk in the dingy office. His small eyes – blue and as cold as ice in a face the colour of putty – raked over Levingstone, before barking out, ‘What’s this I hear about the Irish girl you have set on?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Levingstone said mildly. ‘Tell me what you heard and I will tell you if it is true or not.’

  ‘Don’t play games with me, Levingstone,’ Rogers said sharply. ‘I have been told that you have allowed no one to bed her yet.’

  ‘She was employed as a dancer.’

  ‘Don’t give me that,’ Rogers snapped. ‘Does she dance all night and every night?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘There isn’t any but in this,’ Rogers said. ‘They say you want her for yourself. No one has exclusive rights on any girl, you know that. If you want to continue to manage the club then she joins the others tonight.’

  ‘She dances tonight.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘She’ll be too tired.’

  ‘For God’s sake!’ Rogers exploded. ‘She is only some tramp. Who cares if she is tired or not?’

  ‘The punters might.’

  ‘That is between you and them,’ Rogers said.

  ‘But I’m warning you, if I have any more complaints about you and that Irish girl I will sling the two of you out. Anyway, there is another matter I want to discuss with you and this concerns Tony Finch.’

  ‘Finch!’ Levingstone spat out. ‘What about him? He’s a bastard.’

  Tony Finch was the son of a rich industrialist and thought money could buy everything and everyone. It often did, and he had no respect for anything, especially authority. Most decent people gave him a wide berth because he could be brutal if he was crossed.

  ‘He’s tried for membership of the club twice already and been refused,’ Levingstone went on. ‘Seems he can’t take a hint. We don’t need vicious sods like him.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so highly of him,’ Rogers commented wryly. ‘He will ask again shortly and this time you will not refuse.’

  ‘Oh, yes I will,’ Levingstone said. ‘I am not having men like him in the club. He was sent down from Cambridge last year, wasn’t he, and for what? He won’t say but people who were there with him admit it was because of his aggression. God, he’s just twenty-one years of age and already so violent it is scary. He beat up a prostitute so badly she nearly died, apparently. Had she been a normal girl from a good home, he would be behind bars now. But as she was just a prostitute the police didn’t want to know, especially with Daddy Finch being so rich and influential. The whole matter was pushed under the carpet and all that happened to Finch was that he was expelled from university. Why should I want a man like him in the club? I have to protect my girls.’

  ‘I repeat, if Finch wants to join, then you allow him to do so.’

  ‘Have you listened to one word that I have said?’ Levingstone retorted angrily. ‘There is no point in me being manager of a place and you making all the decisions. I should be able to refuse undesirables. You have always given me a free hand before.’ He looked at his employer and suddenly knew what this was all about. ‘Finch has got something on you, hasn’t he?’

  It was pointless for Rogers to deny it. He nodded slowly. ‘I have certain habits that I would rather not have exposed and Finch has threatened to do just that.’

  So, Levingstone thought, it is true. He had heard a rumour that Rogers w
as into men rather than women – ‘boys’ his informant had said, ‘and the younger the better.’ At the time he had thought the matter nothing to do with him, but now his lips curled with distaste.

  Seeing this Rogers burst out, ‘Don’t look at me like that. You are no bloody saint either, and let me warn you,’ he waggled his finger, ‘I will not go down on my own. If I fall, then so will you.’

  ‘I know that,’ Levingstone said. ‘You don’t have to spell it out.’

  ‘Yeah, well, the only thing to do is keep Finch sweet,’ Rogers said. ‘He wants membership of the club because he has been denied it and that has made it more attractive than ever. Anyway, the reputation of your little Irish colleen has gone before her and Finch is lusting after her.’

  The thought of Aggie in the arms of a man he had such contempt for was so repugnant to Levingstone he felt the bile rise in his throat.

  Rogers gave a grim laugh. ‘Whatever you imagine you feel for that little scrubber, get over it. She is there to provide a service and that is all, so get a grip on yourself, man. This is the business we are in.’

  Levingstone knew that as well as anyone, and he also knew that if Finch was thwarted and did what he had threatened, then all their futures were in jeopardy. He returned to the club a worried man.

  That night the club was busier than ever, for all the members wanted to see Aggie dance. They knew they would get nothing else, but for all that, she pulled the crowds in. Levingstone knew from Monday he would have to tell her that she was to be available with the rest of the girls, and that there was nothing he could do to prevent it any longer. But he said nothing to her that night. Time enough to tell her when he had to.

  Aggie was changing for her first performance when Levingstone saw Tony Finch enter the club.

  He had given orders to the doorman that he was to let Finch in the next time he appeared.

  Levingstone, though, was surprised to see Finch that night. He thought he would have a couple of days’ grace at least. Rogers must have contacted him as soon as he’d left the office. He saw the girls nudging one another and whispering together as they caught sight of Finch, and he could sense their nervousness. He felt sorry for them and, with the man’s reputation, could fully understand their apprehension.

 

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