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Authors: Katie Flynn

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

Forgotten Dreams (36 page)

BOOK: Forgotten Dreams
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Merle was the first to speak. ‘Louella thinks I’m – I’m in the family way,’ she said. ‘I wondered if I was at Christmas time, only I went and saw someone who said I wasn’t. Only none o’ me clothes fit any more – Mrs Jones has put extra panels in all me stage costumes – an’ this evening, I fainted. So – so, maybe I am, after all.’
Baz looked thunderstruck. ‘But we haven’t – we didn’t – we always said we wouldn’t do nothing that could get us into trouble, and we’ve stuck to it,’ he said. His face went very red but Lottie, watching closely, guessed that this was embarrassment and not guilt. ‘It must be a mistake, queen. There’s things you have to do to get a baby and we’ve not done ’em.’
‘Then if you aren’t the father, who is?’ Louella said bluntly. She turned to Merle, who shrank back as though she feared the older woman would strike her. ‘Who’s the father, Merle? How far gone are you? I’d say five or six months.’ She glanced apologetically at Max, giving him a sweet, lopsided smile. ‘We’ve got to get at the truth, Max,’ she said. ‘We can’t all go on livin’ a lie, as Merle has been.’
Max’s brows drew together, but before he could speak Merle heaved a deep sigh, straightened her shoulders, and looked slowly round the circle of people, all of whom were staring at her intently. ‘I’d better start at the beginning,’ she said drearily. ‘It were in Yarmouth, during our summer season . . .’
‘Jerry!’ and ‘That bleedin’ red-headed feller what I caught you kissin’ . . .’ came simultaneously from Lottie and Baz.
Merle, however, shook her head. ‘No, it weren’t Jerry. It were Alex.’
‘Alex?’ The name came from more than one throat.
But Merle nodded a trifle impatiently. ‘That’s right, Alex, the ventriloquist on the Britannia. I was a fool to be taken in by him, but after the first time I realised he were a bad lot. Well, Jerry said he always went after young girls and then dropped them, because he’s a married man, you see. Actually, he’s been married three times and has seven children.’
Lottie stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘And you – and – and he . . . you let him . . . oh, Merle!’
At the sorrow in her friend’s voice, Merle burst into tears once more. ‘It were only the once,’ she sobbed, mopping her eyes furiously, ‘and when I started feelin’ sick in the mornings and funny most of the day, I told you I was going to Blackpool and instead went all the way to Morecambe to tell him I thought I might be havin’ a baby.’ She sniffed dolorously, peeping at Lottie through swollen eyelids. ‘Only when I telled him, he said to cheer up ’cos it were impossible for a girl to get pregnant her first time and besides, he said he took precautions. Then he said if I were having a baby it would have to be Jerry’s, only I told him Jerry and me were just friends. I thought he couldn’t meet me eye, but like a fool I believed him and came home much happier, only there weren’t no sign of me monthlies and then a couple of weeks ago me clothes stopped fittin’ me. I told myself the material were cheap and had shrunk . . .’ She turned desperate, tear-drenched eyes up to her uncle. ‘But I were beginnin’ to believe Alex had lied to me when Louella went for me this evening.’
There was a short silence whilst everyone digested this. Then Jack cleared his throat and stepped forward. ‘If you asks me, and I know you haven’t and I’m goin’ to put in my two penn’orth anyway, you’d best stay with the act while you train a replacement, then you must go home to have the baby and come back afterwards. It’s a pity you can’t make it all legal, like, by marryin’ the father, but mebbe you’d sooner have the child adopted. Folk do, I know, unless of course you want to keep it.’
‘Of course I don’t want to keep it; I don’t want to have it, come to that,’ Merle wailed. ‘Havin’ a baby hurts, an’ lookin’ after it will ruin my career . . .’
Louella snorted. ‘Your career is ruined already, young lady, so far as the Lacey Sisters are concerned,’ she said bitterly. ‘I simply can’t agree to your remaining with the act now that we know you’re in the family way. And if you hope to come back afterwards, you’re out there. I’ll train someone else and you can just find yourself another job. I know you keep saying it were just a one night stand . . .’
Merle promptly burst into tears once more and Max came out from behind her chair and glared at Louella. ‘How dare you speak to my niece like that!’ he thundered. ‘Merle was seduced by an older man, a thing which has happened to many a decent young girl. I heard you earlier, remember; I came into the wings to tell you to hurry because the fog was getting thicker and I heard you call Merle dreadful names. You were berating her as though she was a dockside whore, instead of a child who fell into the clutches of a wicked, greedy man. Well, you’ve dished yourself this time, my girl, because I’m not at all sure I want an assistant who treats a member of my family like dirt.’
‘Max, how can you?’ Louella wailed. Tears formed in her brilliant eyes but were dashed impatiently away. ‘I’ve already apologised, both to you and to Merle . . . what more can I do?’
‘An apology isn’t much use when it’s closely followed by more abuse and the threat of being kicked out,’ Max commented. Merle stood up and Max took both her hands in his and gave them a comforting squeeze. ‘Jack’s right though, my love, you’ll have to go home and tell your parents, explain what happened. If you decide to have the baby adopted, that is your decision, but perhaps your mother will take it on; parents frequently do, I know. In either event, you can then come straight back to the Gaiety. If Louella won’t have you, you can be my assistant.’
‘Oh, Uncle Max, I can’t tell me parents. Dad would kill me, you know what he’s like,’ Merle said. ‘Let me stay here! I’ll have the baby, get it adopted, and come straight back to work. I swear it.’
‘No you will not!’ Louella shouted, clearly throwing caution to the winds. She turned to Max. ‘As for her assisting you, Max, I won’t be cast aside through no fault of my own.’ She looked challengingly at him. ‘I’m sure audiences will be thrilled to see a pregnant woman being sawn in half, and of course management will greet the idea with cries of delight, so if you’re threatening me, Max O’Mara, two can play at that game.’
Max was helping Merle tenderly into her overcoat, adjusting her felt hat, and wrapping her long blue scarf round her neck and the lower half of her face, but as Louella finished speaking he turned towards her, his eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Now the truth is beginning to come out, so perhaps it’s time I said a thing or two myself,’ he said evenly. ‘Have you ever wondered why I’ve never asked you to marry me, Lou, even though we’ve shared a house for more than eight years, though never a bed? It’s because I’ve always known that you disliked babies, had no time for children and were jealous – yes, jealous – of young people. Despite what you probably believe, I do mean to marry one day. I’ve always wanted a settled home, somewhere in the country, with a bit of land so I can keep hens, goats and pigs. And I want an easy-going, comfortable wife, who’ll give me two or three children. I don’t want a woman who shows off her figure night after night on the stage, and thinks more of her own career than of mine. And now you’ve proved my point: not only do you dislike the young, but you’re cold-hearted through and through. I wouldn’t marry you now if you were the last woman on earth!’
‘Max O’Mara, how dare you speak to me like that! And it’s not true that I don’t like babies. I loved Lottie when she was small, didn’t I? But as for marrying, why, after tonight I wouldn’t have you even if you asked me.’
Max did not deign to reply but Baz, looking extremely uncomfortable, said quietly: ‘I think this discussion – if you can call it that – has got out of hand. It’s time we went home anyway. Tomorrer morning things won’t seem so black.’
Jack, looking almost equally uncomfortable, nodded vigorously. ‘You’re right: I reckon things have been said by all parties which they’ll regret when tempers have cooled.’ He crooked his elbow invitingly, and smiled at Lottie. ‘You come along o’ me, chuck; I’ll see you to your door.’ He turned to Louella. ‘You take my other arm, queen, and we’ll venture out into this bleedin’ fog, or it’ll be mornin’ before we’re home.’
‘I’ll come wi’ you, Dad,’ Baz said. He went towards his father, but Merle, who had been clutching Max, broke away and ran over to Lottie. Her face was still swollen and tear-stained, but she was no longer crying.
‘I’m coming wi’ you, Lottie,’ she announced with surprising firmness. ‘I think Max and Louella need to get things sorted out and they can’t do that if I’m around.’
Lottie expected Max – and her mother for that matter – to refuse the suggestion, but to her very real surprise Louella suddenly broke free from Jack and ran to Max, clutching his arm. ‘You were right. I said wicked things to Merle, things I didn’t really mean. You say I think of nothing but my career, but what else have I got to think about? I’d love to be married, with a baby and a nice little cottage in the country.’ She looked pleadingly up into his face. ‘Can we talk?’
Lottie had never heard such desolation coming from her mother, nor such pleading, and Max was obviously touched by it. ‘Yes, we’ll talk,’ he said gruffly. He glanced around him: Merle was clutching Lottie, and Baz and Jack were hovering protectively near the two girls. ‘Are we all agreed?’ he asked. ‘Then let’s get going.’
The six of them left the theatre and plunged into the fog. It was thick and yellow, and even through the scarf wrapped round her nose and mouth Lottie felt the breath catch in her throat. The four of them were spread across the width of the jigger, but when they turned into Scotland Road there were still enough people around to mean that they had to split into three couples, to avoid bumping into others.
Lottie would have kept close to Jack and Baz, for though their torches scarcely illumined the pavement at their feet at least they gave some light, but Merle dragged on her arm, causing her to fall behind. ‘Lottie, you’ve been a good pal to me, and if I’d knowed for certain I were havin’ a baby I’d have told you days ago, honest I would,’ Merle whispered. ‘It were ever so good of Uncle Max to take my part and try to force Louella to have me back after the kid’s born, but in a way I see your mam’s problem. Once I get really big I shan’t be able to do half the routines, so she’ll have to employ someone else, and if the other person goes down well and is cheaper than me, I wouldn’t really blame her for not wanting me back. But I can’t go home to my parents, honest to God I can’t. My dad’s always said that circus people are far more moral than theatricals, and he’ll think this proves it. He never did like the act I did before I came to the Gaiety.’ She gave a small breathless giggle. ‘He said I were flauntin’ me body and no good would come of it. So you see, if I do go home, there wouldn’t be no question of me comin’ back. He’d put his foot down. And he wouldn’t let me have the kid adopted, either. He’d say you’ve made your bed and now you must lie on it.’ She pulled Lottie to a halt beneath a lamp post and stared helplessly into the younger girl’s face. ‘What’ll I do, Lottie? Oh, how I wish I’d never set eyes on bloody Alex!’
Lottie opened her mouth to say that for her part she wished Alex had never set eyes – or anything else – on Merle, then closed it again. ‘Don’t you think you might go home and have the baby, and then bring it back here?’ she asked. ‘I mean, if Louella really does like babies, we ought to be able to look after it between the three of us.’ She hesitated, then spoke more resolutely. ‘Come on, we’ve already lost sight of the others and it’s dreadfully cold. We’ll talk it over once we’re warm and snug in our beds.’
Merle pouted, but took Lottie’s arm once more and set off into the fog. ‘But I want to tackle Uncle Max as soon as we get indoors,’ she said. ‘If he can pay for my keep until I start work again, then I could have the baby in Victoria Court and my dad need never know. It’s – it’s just Louella who could be difficult, though if she really wants to catch Uncle Max, then she must have realised by now that the way to do it is to accept me and the baby with open arms. So I wondered, Lottie, if you’d prove what a real pal you are and tell your mam how things stand. I reckon she does love Max, so she might even put up with me in order to get him legal, like.’
‘There is Baz to consider, though,’ Lottie said, after some thought. ‘No matter what you say, Merle, most folk are goin’ to think the baby is Baz’s because so far as they know he’s been your boyfriend ever since you joined the act, which is gettin’ on for a year. They’ll think he’s managed to wriggle out of marrying you, given you the go-by, and they’ll think Max has gone along with it as well. So don’t you think it would be fairer if you went home?’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ Merle said, after a longish pause. ‘Oh, Lottie, I’m just as selfish as Louella in my own way! I’ve not given a thought to poor Baz, and it must have been a terrible shock to him, yet he never reproached me or said nasty things about me; he left that to Louella,’ she added with a flash of humour.
‘Baz is a really nice feller. But to be honest, Merle, I think he was too shocked to say much,’ Lottie said. ‘And anyway, what with Louella and Max bawling each other out, and you crying and trying to tell everyone what had happened, Baz wouldn’t have been heard even if he had spoken up.’
Merle gave a small giggle. ‘He is nice; and much too good for me,’ she said with unwonted humility. ‘I wish I’d had a chance to speak to him alone because he’s the one person – apart from you, love – who deserved to know the truth.’
‘But you didn’t really know for sure that you were pregnant until this evening,’ Lottie pointed out. The two girls had been walking with arms linked, but now Lottie stopped, and Merle followed suit. ‘We’ve been walking for ages, Merle. I’m sure we should have reached Burlington Street by now. The trouble is, the fog’s so thick you can’t even read the names of the shops, but I’m sure we’ve crossed over half a dozen side streets whilst we were talking. D’you think we ought to go back?’
BOOK: Forgotten Dreams
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