Fallen Skies. Philippa Gregory
got a wonderful eye. He’ll go far. I heard some gossip when I was waiting for you the other day that he’s applied for the post of musical director at the Kings Theatre, Southsea. A proper theatre – not just music hall. That’d be a big step for him! I wouldn’t be surprised if he got it either.’
Lily nodded. ‘He can play anything,’ she said proudly. ‘If you just sing it to him once he can play it straight away. I’m going to sing him the cuckoo song. I think it’s really pretty.’
‘Cuckoo song!’ Helen said indulgently. ‘You’d better get yourself packed for tomorrow. I’ll make us some supper. I’ve got some nice ham in the shop which won’t last another day. I’ve got some biscuits and tea for you to take with you. Don’t forget to eat properly, Lil. And your washing is on the landing, all ironed.’
Lily moved to the door and stopped to put her arms around her mother. ‘Will you be all right without me?’ she asked. ‘You’ve never had to manage without me before.’
Helen patted her on the back. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘It’s a big start for you. I’d rather see you do it than anything else in the world. I wouldn’t stand in your way, Lil. You go off and I’ll be proud of you.’ She hugged her daughter tight for a moment, and quickly blinked the tears from her eyes before she let her go so Lily would not see what it was costing her. Lily was her creation, made of finer stuff than the other children of their street. Every spare penny had been poured into Lily’s singing, into Lily’s dancing, into her elocution. It was only sense, now that the girl had her chance, for her mother to send her out to the wider world, and be proud. But it was only natural that she should feel deeply bereft, as if Lily were still her baby taken from her too early.
She gave Lily a little push. But the girl hesitated at the door. ‘D’you think Charlie Smith likes me? I mean as a girl, not just as a singer?’
Helen looked at her daughter. ‘It doesn’t matter, does it? He’s really old, according to you. As old as Captain Winters. And injured in the war too.’
Lily nodded, unconvinced.
‘You can go out to dinner with him, if he asks you, while you’re on tour,’ Helen said. ‘You’d be perfectly safe with him, Lily.’
‘Because he’s not in love with me and Stephen is?’
‘Something like that,’ Helen said. ‘And he knows the line.’
‘I like him awfully,’ Lily confided.
Helen smiled. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘He’s a good friend to you, Lily, you wouldn’t have got this far without his help. You keep him as a friend and bide your time. You’ve got years ahead of you for love.’
Helen did not go with Lily to the station. She ordered a cab for her and waved her off from the shop doorway. There were customers in the shop and they had no time for any farewell more than a hurried peck on the cheek.
‘Write to me if you need me,’ Lily said hastily as her mother thrust her into the cab. ‘You know I’ll come home if you need me.’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ Helen said brusquely. ‘You go and have a lovely time, Lily. Be sure you eat properly and get enough sleep.’ She slammed the car door. ‘And remember what I said – no dinners out.’
Lily nodded and waved, turning around to watch her mother’s indomitable figure recede as the car drove away. Helen stood in the road, her arm raised, waving and waving until the cab was out of sight. Then she wiped her face roughly on her white apron and strode back into the shop. ‘Who’s next?’ she said crossly. ‘And there’s no credit, so don’t ask for it.’
Lily, gripping her handbag tightly on her lap, with her vanity bag on the seat beside her, rode on her own to the station, tipped the driver and called the porter for her suitcase all by herself, and then merged joyously with the company waiting on platform two for the Southampton train.
Charlie was there, supervising the trunks going into the luggage wagon. Sylvia de Charmante was being driven to Southampton by a gentleman friend and would meet them at the theatre.
‘I’d have thought you’d have got Captain Winters to drive you,’ Madge said. ‘Is he back on the scene for keeps?’
Lily smirked. ‘He took me and Ma out for the day yesterday. In the Argyll. We had a picnic. He has a real silver teapot. And really good china. Just for a picnic!’
The train drew in, snorting smoke and hissing steam. The stoker leaned out over the curved panel of the cab and winked at the girls, his face shiny with sweat and streaked with coal dust. Porters opened the doors and the company piled into adjoining carriages. Charlie found himself seated beside Lily.
‘So, are you planning your wedding, then, Lily?’ he asked with a smile under cover of the noise of the girls getting settled and piling their hatboxes into the overhead shelves.
Lily giggled. ‘No, I told him not, and he’s not going to ask me again. Ma won’t let him take me out to dinner on my own but I can have tea with him. He’s coming to Southampton on Wednesday.’
‘Well, watch your step,’ Charlie advised. ‘If your ma is happy with it then I suppose it’s all right. But watch your step with him, Lily.’
Lily turned her candid blue gaze on him. ‘What d’you mean?’
Charlie flushed a little and shifted in his seat. ‘Oh dammit, Lil, you know what I mean!’
‘D’you mean he might want to kiss me and spoon even though I told him we wouldn’t get married?’
Charlie nodded.
‘He won’t do that!’ Lily said decidedly. ‘He’s a gentleman after all.’
The engine hissed a cloud of white steam and the doors slammed down the length of the train.
‘Shut the window! Shut the window! We’ll all get covered in smuts!’ the girls cried.
They pulled the window up, and fastened it with the big leather strap on the brass hook. The station master blew a loud blast on his whistle, raised the green flag and dropped it. The engine started forward and there was the exciting thump as the carriages moved too, and then with a rattle the whole train eased forward and wheels rolled into their regular clatter.
‘Well, that’s all right, then,’ said Charlie ironically. ‘A gentleman!’
Lily had thought the show would be different in another theatre, but it was reassuringly the same. There was less of a panic in the quick costume changes because the girls’ dressing room was nearer the stage. It was a bigger room and Lily had a proper place at the mirror, and her own peg for her costume. Charlie Smith complained about a draught in the orchestra pit and wore a vest and then a ludicrous pair of combinations under his immaculate white shirt and black bow tie. One of the scene changes was too much for the Southampton crew, and after they had fluffed it for two successive nights it was dropped entirely. But apart from small alterations, the show was up and running, and Lily found the familiar songs and scene changes and the acts made the theatre feel like home in a strange city.
The lodgings were fun. They were all living together in the same house and Lily loved supper after the last show, when Charlie Smith sat at the head of the table and Mike the SM sat at the foot, and the girls gossiped and told jokes and stories of theatre life. Lily felt the proud glow of being one of the elite. There were other lodgings in Southampton, there were other dinner tables. But this was the table for the cast at the Palais. They were all noisy and exhibitionist even when the curtains had closed and they were home for the night.
Sylvia de Charmante’s gentleman friend took her out to dinner at night and she rarely spent time with the rest of them. The other acts ate with the chorus girls, or picnicked in their