Authors: Benita Brown

Tags: #Newcastle Saga

A Dream of her Own (24 page)

BOOK: A Dream of her Own

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‘Do you mind?’

‘Of course not. I am just sorry that you have so much else to do ...’ she broke off and glanced at her elder son, ‘that you cannot devote yourself to your studies, and, even when you have qualified and you are a doctor, you will have to help your brother with the business.’

She had lowered her voice and was looking at Frank earnestly. He reached across and took her hand. ‘Don’t worry, Mamma, I can manage.’

‘Aren’t you coming with us, Frank?’ Valentino had finished his soup and was staring at him. Frank wondered how much he had heard - and how much he understood. ‘I would like to but I can’t. I have to study. I am very grateful that you are taking Mamma to the pantomime. It will be such a treat for her.’

‘Yes, a treat.’

Valentino’s eyes were shining. And so were Maria’s. As their mother collected the empty soup plates together and took them to the kitchen, Frank saw that she was close to tears.

Nella threaded her way quickly through the crowds in the Grainger Market. High above in the vaulted ceiling, sparrows swooped and chattered among the looped garlands, setting them swaying when they landed for a moment. The tops of the brightly lit stalls were festooned with evergreens, and the columns dividing the stalls were twisted round with tinsel.

She paused for a moment when she saw a group of children gathered round a toy stall. On the shelves at the back of the stall there were rows of doll’s houses and, on the counter, there was a display case full of miniature furniture. Nella, hardly taller than the tallest child, watched as a small girl, encouraged by her mother, pointed towards a dining table and a set of chairs. Another child, probably her brother, was already clutching a box of skittles.

The mother and her children were in decent but shabby clothes, hardly better dressed than the other children who were observing with such envious eyes. Nella wondered if the money they were spending was a Christmas gift. The stall keeper lifted out the furniture and the small audience gave a collective sigh.

Nella turned and hurried on her way. The lights, the colours and the smells of the market enveloped her. She breathed in deeply, savouring it all. The sharp, sweet evergreens, the fruit, especially the oranges, the roasting chestnuts, the cheeses and the coffee, the sawdust underfoot, the hurricane lamps hanging in some of the stalls, the rows of geese and turkeys, all mingled in an intoxicating mix, carrying her along amidst the hubbub of excited voices.

In the central arcade a giant Christmas tree was hung with coloured baubles, strings of gold and silver bells and concertinaed paper lanterns. Nella had to crane her neck to see the Star of Bethlehem perched at the very top. Suddenly a small boy pushed against her and she almost fell.

‘Stop shovin’, will you!’ a woman called, and she grabbed the boy’s arm before turning to smile at Nella. ‘Sorry, miss,’ she said. ‘He’s that excited.’

‘Don’t worry, it was an accident. I don’t mind.’

The woman and her child vanished into the crowd and Nella stared after them wonderingly.
‘Sorry, miss,’
the woman said, and she sounded so respectful, as if she thought I was something better than a skivvy, Nella thought. It must be the clothes, especially the velvet cape that Constance has given me.

But there had been something else about the woman’s expression. Nella frowned. Or rather it was something that hadn’t been there ... The woman had looked up at her and smiled - and remained smiling. There had been no dawning look of horror and no embarrassed aversion of the eyes before she turned away. Hadn’t she noticed the way Nella looked?

It is the cape, Nella realized. But not because it’s of such good quality. I was still righting myself from nearly falling over and the way the cape was draping must have hidden my twisted shoulders.

For a moment Nella was so happy that she felt like crying. Just for once she had been treated like a normal person.

The old man at the jewellery kiosk took the broken chain from her and looked at her suspiciously. ‘I don’t remember selling you this.’

‘Well, you did.’ Nella reached into her bag and brought out the heart. ‘Along with this.’

He peered over his half-moon spectacles at her and suddenly grinned. ‘Yes, I remember. Had it engraved, didn’t you? Didn’t recognize you, all dressed up like a lady.’

Nella smiled and, emboldened by his words, said, ‘So now that you know who you’re dealing with, are you sorry you sold me something so shoddy?’

‘What! The cheek of it!’ But he responded to her grin. ‘This chain is no worse than any other for the same price. It’s had rough treatment, that’s why it’s broken.’

‘Can you mend it?’

‘Easily.’

She watched while the jeweller took off his spectacles and clamped an eyepiece in one eye. He took up the chain and what looked like a tiny pair of pliers and removed the broken link. ‘Too far gone,’ he muttered, before opening up another link and repairing the chain. Then he threaded the heart back on to it. ‘There you are.’

‘Thank you.’ Nella reached into her bag.

‘No, I’ll not charge you for the mending, and furthermore, as you’re such a toff, I’ll give you this to keep it in.’ The old man reached below the counter and brought out a small red velvet box.

Nella’s eyes widened and he laughed as he arranged the necklace in the box. ‘Got to keep on the right side of grand ladies like you, haven’t I?’ He winked as she put the box into her bag. ‘Now, mind you call again!’

‘I will, and right now I’ll take that hatpin, the one with the pearl bead on top.’ Nella handed over her sixpence, knowing that the pearl, as big as a pigeon’s egg, couldn’t possibly be real, but it was the most beautiful creamy ivory colour and she would give it to Constance as a belated Christmas present.

As she made her way towards the exit on Nunn Street Nella thought that she had never been so happy in her life. She had seen Constance and set her mind at rest. Constance was obviously happy and comfortable and she had been so pleased to see her. Just because she’d gone up in the world, she hadn’t forgotten her. In fact she’d made a point of calling Nella her friend in front of that vinegar-faced servant girl.

They’d had tea together beside the fire - and what a tea! And Constance had told her she must come again, and given her this lovely cape. When Nella had left Constance’s house she had felt as if she were walking on air. It had taken her more than twenty minutes to walk to the tram stop on Shields Road but she had had plenty time. It had been only five o’clock and the show didn’t start until seven.

Once the tram had rattled into town, Nella decided that she had time to hurry to the market and get Constance’s chain mended. She’d seen the way Constance had looked at the necklace - she could guess how upset she must have been. Well, now it was mended
and
was in a beautiful little box. Constance would be so pleased.

Ten minutes later Nella reached the Haymarket and stopped in dismay. The queue outside the theatre was halfway down Percy Street. How could that have happened so quickly? There was nothing for it but to go to the end. As the people ahead of her moved up slowly, Nella became more and more anxious. She watched the lucky folk with booked seats in the stalls and the dress circle arrive and go into the theatre.

Whole families arrived together, groups of friends, young couples, and a party of lads and lasses who had been whiling away the waiting time in Alvini’s coffee shop below the restaurant and were already in high spirits. Nella watched enviously as they hurried into the foyer. They were laughing and joking in such a friendly way. How nice it would have been to have come with a friend tonight. With Constance.

And then another couple came out of Alvini’s - or rather the door next to the cafe entrance, the door that led to the restaurant above. Nella stared with fascination at the huge man and the tiny woman who must have been mother and son. For, although the bright-eyed little woman was holding on to his arm and gazing up at him tenderly, she was years older than he. Apart from that, Nella recognized the kind of love that shone in her eyes. It was a mother’s love. This tiny, well-dressed woman was looking at the tall young man the same way that Agnes Bannerman used to look at Constance.

Nella watched as they walked the short distance to the main entrance of the theatre and she saw the commissionaire hurry forward and hold the door for them. She also saw the way the women looked at the man. Not just the other more prosperous theatregoers, but also the women in the queue along with Nella. The group of girls standing behind her fell silent, and then one of them sighed. After that they all started giggling and making remarks that Nella could only describe as coarse.

Fewer and fewer people were arriving now. She knew it was drawing nearer and nearer to seven o’clock and when she saw the commissionaire closing the doors to the main entrance, she nearly despaired.

Just as she reached the ticket office she heard the music start inside the theatre and a great cheer from the audience. The lady behind the small glass window smiled as she gave the tickets to the young couple ahead of Nella and told them to hurry up the stairs. Then, as Nella slid her money on to the counter, she said, ‘Sorry, pet,’ and propped up a card against the glass. It said: ‘HOUSE FULL.

The girls behind her complained loudly and then one of them said, ‘Hawway, let’s try the Pavilion!’

‘But that’s not a proper pantomime,’ another one said.

‘That’s right, so there might be a few tickets left, and it’ll be better than nothing. If we run, we’ll not miss much!’

But Nella couldn’t run, of course. And, besides, no other show would do. She wanted a proper Christmas entertainment with a transformation scene and the audience joining in some of the songs. ‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed. She felt the tears come to her eyes. ‘Please let me in.’

The woman wore a high-collared maroon dress with dark red bugle beads embroidered on the front. Her hair was swept up severely, but she had a kind smile. ‘There’s no seats left, pet.’

‘I divven’t care. I’ll stand at the back.’

‘That’s not allowed. And besides, do you know what it’s like up there in the gods? It’s so steep that it’s bad enough just sitting down in the back few rows. You’d not see a thing if you were standing.’

‘But I wanted to come yesterday when the show started and I couldn’t - and I’ve saved all year - and by the time I get another afternoon off it’ll all be over!’

Nella felt the tears trickling down her face and she rubbed them away with cold fingers. The woman looked concerned. ‘Don’t cry, pet. Look, can you afford the upper circle?’

‘The upper circle? But I thought all them seats was booked?’

‘They are. But sometimes we get a return - or someone doesn’t turn up to collect their ticket. I’ve got one here, if you want it.’

Nella stared at the bit of pink paper that the woman had placed on the counter. If she took it, she might not be able to afford to get a cab home and Mrs Mortimer would give her hell if she was late back.

‘Do you want this ticket or not? You’ll have to hurry, the overture’s nearly over.’ As she spoke there was a burst of applause from inside the theatre.

‘I’ll take it.’

Nella decided that the only way to get to her seat without falling headlong was to sit down and edge along and down each step on her bottom. The woman in the ticket office had said that the gods was steep - well, if it was worse than this she never wanted to sit up there!

Once she had bought her ticket it had taken her agonizing minutes to get up the brown and cream painted stairway to the entrance to the upper circle. Her bones were aching - screaming at her - by the time a pasty-faced youth in a threadbare evening suit stopped her at a set of brown-painted double doors with big brass handles.

‘You can’t go in now,’ he said.

‘Why not? I’ve got a ticket! Look! You can’t stop me seeing the show!’

‘Hush! I didn’t mean that you couldn’t see the show. I just meant that you’ll have to wait until the first scene’s over.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ll disturb the other folk in the row as you go to your seat.’

Nella saw the sense of this. ‘Well, can I stand at the back?’

BOOK: A Dream of her Own

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