by June Francis
Mrs Wright spoke from the other side of the shop. ‘You know what’s needed, girls? A change in the divorce laws. Too many couples married in haste during the war, only to discover when they had to live together that it had been a mistake.’
Tilly mentioned this to Grant the next day due to his involvement in divorce cases. ‘What do you think?’
‘I agree with Mrs Wright. The rules for divorce should be changed but until they are there’s still work for me. Even though these adultery cases are fixed sometimes.’
‘You mean some of those involved aren’t always committing adultery?’ asked Tilly, frowning.
Grant smiled. ‘Some are, some aren’t but are prepared to do what’s necessary to be rid of their partners.’
Tilly said no more but she was really having her eyes opened when it came to the whole concept of love and marriage and happy endings.
The Doyle children continued to stay at the Bennetts’ house, rehearsals went on for the concert – and still there was no sign of Leonard. Grant told Tilly that there were also no party invitations going out during August and early September because most people were on holiday.
Tilly asked Grant if he had spoken to Mr Nuttall about the concert.
‘Damn! I forgot, Tilly. I’ll do it next time I see him.’
Tilly wondered if she was wasting her time pushing the idea. After all, it was only a few weeks to the concert now. But he must have seen Mr Nuttall because the following Saturday morning Mrs Nuttall arrived at the Bennetts’ house just as Tilly was getting there. She also noticed that Leonard’s large black car was parked outside his house again. The sight of it filled her with mixed feelings. Perhaps if it had not been for Mrs Nuttall then she might have hung around outside the house for five minutes or so, but the woman was looking at her as if she knew her.
‘Hello,’ said Tilly. ‘Have you come to see Mrs Bennett?’
‘Yes,’ answered Mrs Nuttall. ‘Should I know you? Your face looks familiar.’
Tilly smiled. ‘We have met briefly – outside a church hall where there was a missionary showing slides of Africa.’
Mrs Nuttall looked relieved. ‘So that’s where I saw you. Do you know Mrs Bennett well?’
‘Yes. I work for the seamen’s widows and orphans charity she’s involved with and I’ll be playing the piano in the concert,’ replied Tilly. ‘It’s for a good cause and it should be fun.’
‘Fun?’ Mrs Nuttall crinkled her nose. ‘You aren’t nervous?’
‘Of course I am! But I’m sure it’ll all come right on the night,’ said Tilly. ‘Shall we go in?’ The front door was slightly ajar, so Tilly pushed the door wide and led the way in.
The door to the sitting room opened and Eudora appeared. She looked careworn but smiled when she saw Tilly and the woman with her. ‘You must be Mrs Nuttall.’ It was then that Tilly realised that Grant had taken the step of giving Mr Nuttall Eudora’s phone number.
‘Yes. Mrs Phyllis Nuttall.’ The two woman shook hands. ‘I believe it was a friend of my husband who mentioned me to you.’
‘Yes. But, of course, if you’re too busy or feel you don’t want to perform then you don’t have to,’ assured Eudora.
‘No. I’m not too busy,’ said Phyllis hastily. ‘Whether I’m good enough to entertain people is a different story.’
‘Shall we go to the hall and you can see how you get on,’ said Eudora, smiling. ‘I won’t be able to stay, I’m afraid, but Tilly will look after you.’
They left the room and were making their way to the front door when a voice piped up, ‘Who’s that lady?’
Tilly, Eudora and Phyllis looked up in the direction of the voice and saw one of the auburn-haired twins peering through the banister rails. Then a hand grabbed her from behind and Patricia said, ‘Hush, you, it’s none of yer business? Sorry, Mrs Bennett,’ she called down.
‘It’s all right, Patricia. Ask Mr Bennett about tickets for the children’s matinée. It’ll fill a few hours for you. Then Tilly will help look after them this afternoon.’
‘What about the baby?’ asked Patricia.
Eudora sighed. ‘I’m sure if you wheeled his pram into the kitchen then Joy will keep an eye on him.’
Tilly thought it was not surprising Eudora looked so tired. She and Robbie were too old to have to cope with seven children in the house, even with help. Perhaps after the concert changes would have to be made. Tilly felt butterflies in her stomach thinking about performing on stage.
Her father drove them to the hall but Eudora was unusually silent on the journey and left it to Tilly to explain to Mrs Nuttall what working for the charity entailed. It was not until Tilly and Mrs Nuttall were dropped off at the hall and said that they would make their own way home that Mrs Nuttall asked about the children living in the Bennetts’ house. Tilly told her briefly of the disasters that had fallen on the Doyle family and the woman expressed suitable dismay at what the poor children had been through.
Then Tilly introduced her to the stage manager and left the pair of them to arrange matters to their satisfaction. Gabrielle had missed a couple of practices but today she had turned up and the rehearsals passed off without any problems arising. After finishing her normal rehearsals, Mrs Nuttall asked Tilly if she would accompany her, too, and Tilly could not see how she could refuse after going to such lengths to involve the woman. After a few false starts it was a relief to discover that Mrs Nuttall had a natural rhythm and Tilly enjoyed being an essential part of the routine.
They parted outside the hall because Mrs Nuttall had decided to go into town and do some shopping. Tilly caught the tram that took her along Sheil Road and then walked to the Bennetts’ house. She was about to go inside when a voice hailed her and she turned round to see a smiling Leonard.
‘Hello, Tilly. How are you today?’
She felt a spurt of anger, thinking about how she had not heard a word from him for over six weeks. ‘I’ve just been practising for the concert for the orphans,’ she said stiffly.
‘Ahhh! The orphans! I believe there are children staying in the Bennetts’ house.’
‘Yes.’
He frowned. ‘Where did they come from? Are they relatives of the Bennetts?’
‘Perhaps you should ask Mr Bennett,’ said Tilly. ‘I’d best go in. Mrs Bennett is expecting me.’
‘I think you’re vexed with me,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you thought I should have let you know I was going away.’
‘It would have been polite,’ said Tilly icily, walking away without another word or a backward glance.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tilly hurried to the tram stop, hoping there would not be a repeat of the scenes on Wednesday, when the unemployed had gathered outside the town hall in Dale Street, demanding to see the Lord Mayor. It was Friday and that evening was to be the first performance of the concert especially for the children and staff from the Seamen’s Orphanage, as well as the families helped by the charity. Earlier, on this September day, there had been scattered showers, but now the sky had cleared, promising a fine evening.
She had decided to wear the dress that Alice had made her for the soirée; this despite the conviction that most eyes would still be on the singers and not her. This was mainly because Gabrielle had said audiences liked a bit of glamour and to dolly herself up. All those in the Bennetts’ household except for Joy and the Doyle baby were to be at the performance: Wendy, Minnie and Davy were also going this evening but Mrs Wright would be minding the shop and would attend the show on Saturday with Mrs Pain. Tilly had let Alice know that their father would be attending the Friday performance and so those in Chester would also be coming tomorrow. Grant had bought a ticket and planned to be at the second performance with Mr Nuttall.
Tilly was ready by five o’clock and came into the shop, carrying her music, to remind Wendy that the concert started at seven and to chivvy Minnie and Davy so they wouldn’t be late and could get a decent seat. Peter had already gone on ahead to the Bennetts’ as he was
having an extra rehearsal with Robbie overseeing it.
‘D’you know what it said in this old Echo that was wrapped round the chips I bought last night?’ said Wendy.
Tilly groaned. ‘Not now! My head’s full of stuff I have to think about.’
‘I’m going to tell you anyway,’ said Wendy firmly. ‘Because it’s a woman writer who’s said it and it’s really got my dander up.’
Tilly’s shoulders drooped. ‘OK, tell us. But don’t be ages. I need to be at the Bennetts’ within a quarter of an hour.’
‘This writer said a woman’s brain is like a musical box compared to a man’s, which is like an organ. I thought you being musical and a writer and a woman would have something to say about that.’
‘It’s an insult to our sex,’ said Tilly indignantly, drawing on a beige glove. ‘Have you ever heard a musical box? It tinkles merrily along while an organ—’
‘I know, I know,’ interrupted Wendy. ‘It has all these pipes that makes different sounds and it’s that powerful it can fill a huge building with noise.’
‘Too much noise at times. It can drown out other voices.’ She paused. ‘There’s some truth in that because there are men who love the sound of their own voices and won’t allow others to have a say. Anyway, I’m going. See you later.’ She hurried out.
When Tilly reached the Bennetts’, she noticed that Leonard’s car was missing. Part of her regretted being short with him the last time she had seen him but she had been terribly hurt by his lack of consideration. She had to admit that she still found him attractive, but it still niggled her that she had seen him talking to the Doyle children’s uncle. She knew why she had kept quiet about that; she did not want to believe that Leonard could be in any way connected with that terrible man. She gnawed on her lip and then told herself there was little point in worrying about it now. What if, due to her mind being elsewhere, she struck a false note? She could imagine what Gabrielle would have to say about that. But she was not going to worry about making mistakes; otherwise the thought might be party to the act. She took a deep breath before heading up the Bennetts’ path, thinking she would be glad when it was all over.
As it was, Tilly need not have worried; that evening’s performance went off with very few mishaps all round. A juggler who had perfected his act the other day, dropped a ball and the stand up comedian forgot one of his punch lines; Mrs Nuttall missed a step and, surprisingly, Gabrielle’s voice suddenly faltered. But on the whole the performances weren’t at all bad and she and Peter were note perfect. At the end, they all received thunderous applause and the stage manager assured them that it would all be perfect tomorrow night. ‘It’s just first performance nerves and you heard the audience’s applause,’ he said. ‘They loved it.’
Mal came to congratulate her afterwards. ‘Well done, lass. Yer mother would have been proud of yer. It was a great performance.’
She hugged him. ‘Thanks, Dad. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.’
‘Aye. I did. But I’m going to take Eudora and Mr Bennett home now. She’s no’ so good and needs to rest. You and Patty will be all right with the bairns on the tram?’
‘Of course we will. I’ll see you later.’
She watched him go, so delighted that he had coped with the evening and enjoyed himself.
‘Well done, Tilly,’ said Gabrielle, coming up behind her and patting her on the back. ‘You’re a real trooper. Hopefully tomorrow I won’t allow my mind to stray just because Edie was in the audience. Seeing her there took me back to the time when we were young and our names were on the same poster outside theatres.’ She sighed. ‘We were friends then.’
‘If you want a word with her you’d best have it now. Dad’s taking her and Mr Bennett home in a minute,’ said Tilly.
Gabrielle shook her head. ‘Too much water under the bridge and we’d only end up being bitchy to each other.’
‘She might thank you for volunteering to be part of the show.’
Gabrielle’s face hardened. ‘I don’t want her thanks. I didn’t do it for her but for the widows and their children. I remember what it was like growing up without a father. Mine was a seaman, too, you know. But I don’t remember our family ever being offered any help and we could have done with it.’ She surprised Tilly by kissing her cheek. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, love.’
Tilly wondered whether she should tell her that the whole family from Chester would be there on Saturday. In the end she decided to keep quiet, just in case the weather should change or a train break down so they couldn’t make it after all.
* * *
‘It went well,’ said Wendy, sitting on the crowded tram next to Tilly. The noise of the chattering Doyle children and the younger Wrights was almost deafening. ‘Pity Grant Simpson couldn’t be there tonight. Will he be there tomorrow?’
‘Yes. He’s coming with Mrs Nuttall’s husband.’
‘Mam insisted on my going tonight because there would be that many kids there. I’d have liked to have gone tomorrow. Still, it’s over now and I enjoyed it. Our Pete did well and Mrs Nuttall was good – you can see why tap-dancing is catching on over here,’ said Wendy. ‘There’s something cheerful about the sound of those tapping feet. You played well, too,’ she added as an afterthought.
‘Thanks,’ said Tilly dryly. ‘Don’t forget to tell your Pete how good he was, it’ll boost his confidence.’
‘OK!’ said Wendy. ‘But I can imagine Mam saying We don’t want him to get bigheaded, do we?’ She mimicked her mother perfectly.
They both fell silent and then Wendy leant forward and tapped Minnie on the shoulder. She was reading a magazine and obviously trying to ignore the surrounding noise. Even so, she stopped reading and chattered to her sister.
They all got off the tram together but split up. Tilly said, ‘I’ll see the kids back to the house. I won’t be late.’
The Doyles waved to the Wrights and followed Tilly. The twins slipped their hands in hers whilst Patricia brought up the rear with Micky, Jimmy and Kathleen. Tilly was just ushering them through the Bennetts’ gate when a shiny black car drew up at the kerb. She paused and then told the children to hurry inside but Kathleen lingered in the gateway. Tilly nudged her and told her to get inside.
Leonard got out of the car and stared at Tilly. ‘Did my eyes deceive me, Tilly, or did you have a group of children following you down the drive a few moments ago? I was reminded of the Pied Piper of Hamelin.’
‘We had the charity concert tonight in aid of the orphans,’ she said.
‘So that’s why you’re wearing your pretty gown.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did it go well?’
She nodded. ‘There’s another performance tomorrow, so I’ll be playing again. Tomorrow is for the general public and my family are coming from Chester.’
He looked interested. ‘Can you get me a ticket?’
‘I should think so.’
‘Drop it through my letterbox and I’ll give you the money when next I see you.’
‘OK!’ She was pleased by what he said.
‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to seeing you perform and perhaps you can introduce me to your family.’ He raised his hat and headed for his own front door.
Tilly did not move for a moment but her head was in a whirl, imagining what Alice would have to say when she met him. She hoped that she would not gush all over him and say things that would embarrass her. At least she could depend on the others not to do so. Although, it was possible that Seb might mention Don. Somehow she didn’t think her brother-inlaw would take to Leonard. If only Don had been in touch and she had not seen the photograph of him with that blonde. She sighed and went inside the Bennetts’ to discover there was no sign of the children or Eudora.
‘Where’s Mrs Bennett?’ she asked Joy.
‘Gone up to bed to have a lie-down. I’m going to take her some tea up. Why?’
‘I need another concert ticket for tomorrow.’
‘I think the
y’re all gone,’ said Joy, ‘but you can have mine. Mr Bennett’s going to be at the Palladium and I don’t feel right leaving her alone with the children and just your dad down the garden.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’ asked Tilly, sitting down on a chair. ‘I’ve noticed she hasn’t been herself for a while. She gets breathless and tires easily.’
Joy placed a teaspoon in the sink. ‘She’s no spring chicken, you know.’
‘But she had such life in her this time last year,’ said Tilly.
‘She’s been doing too much since she moved over here, and then to take on the Doyle children, that was pure daft,’ said Joy in a low voice. ‘I think Mr Bennett will put his foot down and they’ll be going sooner, rather than later.’
Suddenly Tilly felt sad, thinking about Patricia and what she had said about change and the family being split up. ‘I wish there was something I could do to help.’
‘There’s only so much that any one person can do. You’ve done all you can,’ said Joy, picking up a tray with a steaming cup of cocoa and a couple of dry biscuits on it. ‘The ticket’s in the Wedgwood comfit dish on the shelf.’
‘I’ll make sure you get a refund,’ said Tilly, taking the ticket out of its hiding place.
‘Never mind. It’s all for a good cause,’ said Joy. ‘You get on home. You’ve got another big night ahead of you tomorrow.’
Tilly thanked her and left. She popped the ticket through next door’s letterbox and walked away, looking forward to having a rest and some time to herself before performing again tomorrow.
* * *
Tilly stood on the stage, peering through a gap in the curtains at the rapidly filling hall. Would all the family make it? Or would someone have to stay behind if they couldn’t get someone to stay with the younger children and Hanny’s mother? Had Leonard got her ticket safely? And what would Grant think if he noticed him here? Her stomach was churning and she wished she could relax.
‘Will you come away from there, Miss Moran?’ hissed the stage manager. ‘The curtain will be going up soon on the first act. Get in the wings and wait your turn.’
