Hettie of Hope Street

by Groves, Annie

  ‘Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘It seems an age since we last saw you. I suppose you’ve been too busy taking photographs from your flying machine and teaching other young men to be as besotted with them as you are to think about coming to see us.’

  ‘Oh, besotted is it? Well, that’s rich coming from you.’ John grinned. ‘Does she still terrify the neighbours practising her scales before cockcrow, Ellie?’

  Ellie’s heart warmed at the sight of John and Hettie slipping instantly into their old banter and routine, and she acknowledged that her younger brother and her adopted daughter, with no blood tie and only a mere eleven years between them, were the closest thing she had even witnessed to a true friendship between the opposite sexes.

  Right from the start John and Hettie had formed a close bond. There had never been a time when Hettie had not been able to wind John around her little finger, but Ellie knew that Hettie was equally fond of John and would do anything for him.

  Pouting flirtatiously and tossing her head, Hettie informed him pertly, ‘Well, for your information, soon I shall be singing a lot more than just scales!’

  ‘Oh?’ John cocked an enquiring eyebrow in Ellie’s direction. ‘Is Miss Brown to put on another charity piece? I was – ahem – disappointed to have missed the last one.’

  ‘No, you weren’t,’ Hettie told him forthrightly. ‘Why don’t you admit it, John? You have no ear for music, unless it’s the horrid whine of your flying machine engines.’

  ‘I’ll have you know that requires a very finely tuned ear indeed. In fact, a flyer’s good ear for the healthy sound of his engine can make the difference between life and death.’

  ‘Oh John, I wish you wouldn’t remind me of just how dangerously you live,’ Ellie protested.

  ‘Flying is not dangerous at all if you obey the rules, Ellie.’

  Behind Ellie’s back Hettie shot John a look of pure enchanting mischief and challenge. ‘You are such a fibber, John,’ she accused him. ‘I haven’t forgotten you telling me that the reason you love flying is because it is so thrilling and exciting.’

  John shook his head. ‘Indeed it is, but that doesn’t mean it’s dangerous.’

  ‘So, what brings you to Winckley Square,’ Gideon asked him cheerfully, desperate to change the subject and stop Ellie worrying even more about her impetuous younger brother.

  John gave him a sheepish look. ‘I have a favour to ask you, Gideon.’

  Gideon frowned slightly. Of all of Ellie’s family, John was his favourite, and he had happy memories of the friendship John had shown him years before when he had been Ellie’s poor and, in her mother’s eyes at least, unwanted suitor.

  ‘If you’re going to try to persuade me to take on another of your lame dogs, John, let me tell you that the last ruffian you persuaded me to hire turned up for work so drunk that it took three days for him to sober up.’

  The whole family knew that John had a soft heart and was inclined to take up the cause of anyone he thought was hard done to.

  A faint tinge of guilty colour crept over John’s handsome face. Like his father, John was an extremely handsome man, tall and broad shouldered with bright blue eyes, strong white teeth, and thick dark curly hair.

  ‘Well, she is neither a ruffian, nor lame…’ John began awkwardly.

  ‘She?’ Gideon and Ellie demanded in unison.

  A big grin split John’s face. ‘Yes “she”,’ he replied. ‘Just wait until you see her. I’ve left her in the kitchen with Mrs Jennings. Gideon, she is just the prettiest thing and so affectionate, you will have her eating out of your hand in no time at all. She’s only young, not fully grown, and with no bad habits. I’d keep her with me but I’m away such a lot that it just doesn’t seem fair. I confess I had no intention of having her, but when I saw the way she was being abused. The poor little thing was cowering and shaking…’

  Ellie was looking unhappier with every word her brother uttered, but Gideon had begun to relax. It was Hettie, though, who burst out laughing and exclaimed, ‘Mam, don’t look so worried. John is talking about a dog, aren’t you, John?’

  ‘What? Oh yes, of course. She is the prettiest little collie bitch, Gideon, and the chap I bought her off was treating her dreadfully.’

  ‘Oh John!’ Ellie scolded him, shaking her head.

  ‘I must leave soon,’ John told them. I have some new pupils to collect from the station and take back to the airfield.’

  ‘How is business?’ Gideon asked him.

  ‘We are not yet making a profit, and I doubt I shall ever be able to match your success.’ John smiled. ‘But we are just about managing to make ends meet, thanks to you. Without your help I’d never have been able to set up the school in the first place.’

  ‘Think nothing of it,’ Gideon assured him clapping him on the shoulder. ‘I suspect Ellie thinks I’ve done you more of a bad turn than a good one by helping you. She worries that living in a wretchedly ill-equipped and damp farm worker’s cottage will ruin your health.’

  John laughed. ‘The cottage may not be Winckley Square but it suits me.’

  It was now three years since, with Gideon’s help, he had bought the large area of flat farmland with its worker’s cottage. The flatness of the land meant it was perfect as an airfield, and, whilst neither the cottage nor the barracks-like building which housed the pupils could be described as anything other than extremely basic, John had lavished as much money as he could spare on the hangars for his two aeroplanes.

  ‘So, minx,’ John teased Hettie expansively. ‘What charity is Miss Brown supporting this time? I dare say I shall have to buy tickets for it, even if I don’t get to come along and hear you caterwauling.’

  ‘It isn’t for charity and it isn’t for Miss Brown,’ Hettie answered him indignantly. ‘It’s a proper singing job, and in public, so there!’

  ‘Singing in public? What do you mean?’

  The good humour vanished from John’s expression. Sensing her brother’s disapproval, and seeing Hettie begin to pout, Ellie was about to explain but Hettie spoke first.

  ‘I shall sing for the ladies of Liverpool whilst they take tea, and they will love me and I shall become famous,’ Hettie trilled giddily, oblivious to the shadow that had crossed John’s face.

  ‘What Hettie means, John,’ Gideon explained hurriedly, ‘is that Miss Brown is recommending her for a recently advertised position as a soloist to be accompanied by the pianist at the Adelphi Hotel.’

  ‘Oh John, just imagine.’ Hettie clasped her hands together and stood in front of him, her whole face alive with happiness, her eyes full of dreams. ‘It will be just as though I were on a stage. Only, of course, I shall not be because it is only a hotel, but who knows what it may lead to?’

  ‘I can’t see that any good will come of it, Hettie, other than filling your head with even more nonsense,’ John told her so sharply that her face flushed.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she demanded hotly, but Ellie hurriedly intervened before John could answer her.

  ‘Hettie, love, I was looking at your blue dress this morning and I thought we might re-trim it.’

  ‘Thanks for agreeing to home this little lass for me, Gideon,’ John said gruffly a few moments later, bending to rub the collie bitch’s ears. They had moved down to the kitchen so that John could introduce Gideon to his new charge before leaving, Ellie and Hettie having remained upstairs.

  ‘I’m sure both Philip and Richard will enjoy keeping her company when they’re at home,’ Gideon replied with a chuckle.

  John smiled. Philip was the youngest of the Pride children, the baby whose birth had resulted in his mother’s death, and who Gideon had firmly insisted Ellie’s aunt hand over into Ellie’s care to be brought up alongside their own children.

  ‘Gideon, are you sure it’s wise for Hettie to go to this audition?’ John asked abruptly. ‘After all, she’s still so very young. Hardly more than a child.’

  Gideon shook his head. ‘You may not be aware
that she has become a young woman, John, but I can assure you that she believes she has, and so too do the young men who hang around after church on Sunday hoping to be introduced to her. She’s eighteen now, you know.’

  ‘Even so, she has led a very sheltered life, and for all that she claims to want to sing on the stage, I believe she has no real idea of what such a life entails.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I would far rather she discovers that in the safe environment of the Adelphi hotel, where she has Connie close at hand should she need her, than risk having her do as Connie herself did and run away from home.’

  ‘Connie left our aunt’s because she was ill-treated there, and fancied herself in love,’ John protested.

  ‘Well, whilst I hope Hettie will never feel that she has been ill-treated, she too is passionately in love, you know.’

  ‘What? She might fancy herself in love with some lad, but she’s too young even to know what love is.’

  John’s voice was grim. ‘What I meant was that she feels very passionately about her music, just as you do about your flying machines. Besides, it may be that she is not called to audition for the post. Miss Brown, her singing teacher, believes there will be many applicants.’

  Gideon was wrong in thinking he was not aware of how much Hettie had grown up, John reflected sombrely as he left the house. He was only too aware of it, and had been for some time. But it had been most obvious to him that, whilst his feelings for her had undergone a change, the old companionable affection he had always felt for her replaced by a man’s longing and love, Hettie’s feelings for him had remained as they always were. And nothing could have proved that more than her behaviour today, he admitted bleakly.

  TWO

  The much longed for and awaited letter from the Adelphi hotel had finally arrived, and as she watched Gideon opening it Hettie hardly dared to breathe, her breakfast left untouched as she waited in almost unbearable anxiety.

  Whilst Gideon silently and slowly read the letter, Hettie looked appealingly at Ellie.

  Loath as she was to lose Hettie’s company, Ellie couldn’t help but feel for her. ‘Gideon, please tell us what it says,’ she begged her husband.

  ‘It says,’ Gideon answered her, ‘that Miss Henrietta Walker is to present herself at the rooms of Mrs May Buchanan on Thursday of this week in order that Mrs Buchanan may assess her suitability to sing for the Adelphi’s guests.’

  ‘Oh!’ Such was the intensity of her emotions that Hettie was completely unable to speak. Instead tears poured from her eyes and, with a small choked sob, she got up from her chair and ran to Ellie’s side to bury her head against her shoulder, her whole body shaking.

  ‘I still can’t believe that I am actually to be auditioned,’ she confided to Miss Brown two hours later, having begged Ellie’s permission to visit her teacher to give her the good news. ‘And it is all down to you,’ Hettie told her teacher earnestly. ‘Mrs Buchanan must have taken note of your recommendation.’

  ‘I wrote no less than the truth, Hettie,’ Miss Brown assured her. ‘Nature has granted you a very special gift and given you a truly excellent voice.’

  ‘But it is because of you that I have learned how to use it,’ Hettie replied earnestly.

  ‘When is your audition?’ Miss Brown asked her excitedly.

  ‘It is this Thursday. I’m already feeling nervous. My mother has a sister who lives in Liverpool and so we are to take the train Wednesday to be there in plenty of time and stay with my Aunt Connie. What do you think Mrs Buchanan will ask me to sing?’

  ‘I am sure that she will expect you to have a piece ready prepared,’ Miss Brown answered her. ‘So we must choose something that both shows off the range of your voice and which will fall pleasantly on the ears of ladies taking afternoon tea. This is not a situation where I would recommend the singing of a complicated aria.’ Miss Brown pursed her lips thoughtfully and then said shrewdly, ‘Perhaps something pretty and sentimental would be best.

  ‘Oh, and I would advise you to wear something smart but loose, so that your voice is not constricted in any way. You will be apprehensive, of course, and anxious, that is to be expected. It is Monday already so we must decide quickly what you will sing so that you can practise it. What about “Auf Wiedersehen?”’ she suggested. ‘After all, Vivienne Segal was just your age when it made her a star.’

  Hettie nodded in agreement. She was far too excited to be able to speak. She could hardly believe that in three days time she would be singing at the Adelphi!

  The bus had set them down at the corner of the road, and Hettie moved closer to Ellie’s side as her apprehension grew. She had felt more and more nauseous and fearful with every minute that had passed since leaving her Aunt Connie’s.

  The rooms where Hettie was to have her audition were in a street off Lime Street, not very far from the Adelphi. The house itself was halfway down the street, and like all its neighbours it had a clean if somewhat austere appearance, its front step donkey-stoned and the doorknocker well polished.

  ‘Oh, Mam…’ Hettie whispered shakily.

  ‘What is it, Hettie?’ Ellie asked her gently. ‘Have you changed your mind?’

  Immediately Hettie shook her head, missing the faint sigh Ellie gave and the look of anxiety in her eyes.

  A small, neatly dressed maid in a crisply immaculate apron and cap opened the front door to them and directed them to a dark back parlour, its furniture heavily festooned in dark brown material. Ellie and Hettie perched awkwardly on a bulging sofa.

  The faintly worn areas in the turkey carpet made Hettie wonder just how many anxious feet had paced across it whilst their owners waited in the room’s sombre silence. Thick net curtains obscured what light could have entered the room, making it seem even more gloomily oppressive.

  She reached out and placed her hand in Ellie’s. She wanted this more than she had ever wanted anything in the whole of her life, more than she would ever want anything ever again. She wanted it so much that it physically hurt, she told herself dramatically.

  The door opened, making Hettie jump. The parlour maid announced, ‘You’re both to go in now, if you please.’

  ‘Good luck, my love,’ Ellie whispered to her as they both got up, kissing her lovingly whilst Hettie gripped her hand.

  Hettie had never felt so clumsy, nor so awkward. Her face was burning, and her throat had gone so dry she was afraid she would not be able to sing at all.

  The maid escorted them to the door of the front parlour and then whispered, ‘Knock on the door and then wait until she says to go in.’

  When her step-mother’s knock went unacknowledged, Hettie cast her an anguished look. ‘Perhaps she didn’t hear,’ she began and then stopped as a firm contralto voice from the other side of the door called out commandingly.

  ‘Come.’

  With Ellie pushing her firmly ahead, Hettie stepped in to the room. Here there was no overstuffed sofa but instead a row of uncomfortable looking hard-backed chairs. But it was the piano and, more dramatically, the woman seated at it, that commanded Hettie’s attention.

  Mrs May Buchanan was almost the complete opposite of Miss Brown, being tall and stately where Miss Brown was small and thin; and her jet-black hair, unlike Miss Brown’s untidy grey bun, was drawn back into a formidably elegant chignon. Miss Brown’s manner was fussy yet gentle, whilst Hettie could tell, even on this first meeting, that Mrs Buchanan was chillingly distant.

  Hettie could feel herself tremble as Mrs Buchanan’s merciless gaze focused sharply on her.

  ‘Your teacher has some very complimentary things to say about you, Miss Walker. She seems to think that you have a soprano voice of surpassing excellence.’

  Hettie looked towards Ellie for reassurance, not sure how she was meant to respond.

  ‘Do you have the same high opinion of your voice as your teacher, Miss Walker?’

  ‘I know that I love to sing,’ was all Hettie could find to say. Mrs Buchanan was making her feel very small and unimporta
nt; she was even beginning to wish that she had not put herself forward for her criticism.

  ‘Very well then. Please stand up.’

  Obediently Hettie got to her feet. She felt sick with nervousness, and she just knew that she was going to do everything wrong.

  As she sang the opening bars of the song, she could hear the uncertainty affecting her voice and her heart sank with distress and panic. The song was so familiar to her that she knew it by heart, and yet in her agitation she almost missed a note. But then, as always when she got into the song itself, the music began to take her over and she became lost in its enchantment and the role it had cast for her.

  As she sang the last few notes she saw the emotional tears in Ellie’s eyes, and her spirits soared upwards in triumph and pleasure. But she was brought quickly back to earth when Mrs Buchanan commented coldly, ‘You were off key in the first bar.’

  ‘I was nervous.’

  ‘If you are nervous about singing in front of me then how do you think you will be able to sing in front of an audience of a hundred?’

  Hettie did not dare look at her mother. She knew if she did she would burst into tears of shame and disappointment.

  THREE

  ‘You have been gone such an age. What happened?’

  ‘Poor Hettie was very nervous,’ Hettie heard Ellie answering as Connie ushered them both into her cosy parlour.

  ‘I was off key in the opening bars,’ Hettie added, watching as Connie’s expression grew grave and sympathetic, and then laughing and saying, ‘But I am to have the job because Mrs Buchanan says that I am the best of all the applicants.’

  ‘Oh, you terror, letting me think that you hadn’t got it!’ Connie chided her, laughing back.

  ‘And I am going to board with Mrs Buchanan’s sister, aren’t I, Mam? She lives in the same street and only takes in female lodgers. I will have lessons with Mrs Buchanan every morning for a month and then I shall sing at the Adelphi hotel every afternoon. Except, of course, for Sunday, which will be my day off. Then after that I will have two days together off each month, which means I can go home to Preston.’