Remember Me (20 page)

Hetty was a few years older than himself, and
Samuel rather liked older women. He guessed that, with a little persuasion, she might not be averse to his amorous advances, not like that mealy-mouthed half-sister of hers. He had only agreed to go along to watch the Pierrot show so that he could get to know Hetty a little better. But he knew that he would have to proceed with caution.

The Melody Makers’ autumn tour started at the beginning of October; and Dan had still not managed to get to Scarborough to see Maddy. They corresponded, though, and she looked forward to receiving his letters at least twice a week. The shop had been extra busy, he told her, and he was unable to take any time off as the new assistant was by no means capable of being left in charge. And Mr Grundy was taking longer than had been anticipated in recovering from his operation.

Maddy found she was looking forward to going on tour again, seeing different towns and cities and, this time, working with some different people. She was aware that the troupe had got into something of a rut, and new artistes would bring new ideas and a feeling of freshness to the show. Although Freddie Nicholls and Jeremy Jarvis had been engaged because of the originality of their acts, she knew that Percy would want them to be versatile and to take their part in sketches and in chorus numbers, as did the rest of the company. It would be interesting to see what the new members had to offer.

She had enjoyed the short time she had spent with Freddie, finding him to be good-natured and friendly, and with a keen sense of humour. They had had a drink together after the performance and she had told him about her fellow artistes, all of whom he remembered from the time when he had taken part in the talent contest. The troupe had not changed at all since that time, so they were, indeed, ready for an infusion of new blood. He had seen her home safely, and had then walked the mile or so back to his digs near the railway station.

Maddy had then pushed Freddie Nicholls to the back of her mind. He was a pleasant young man and she felt sure he would be good fun to work with; her thoughts, though, were still largely centred on Daniel, wondering when she would see him and imagining how wonderful it would be when she did.

Freddie, however, found he was unable to stop thinking about Madeleine Moon. She had blossomed from a pretty little girl with a silver-toned voice into a beautiful young woman, chatty and charming and friendly and such fun to be with; and her singing voice had improved immensely. It had matured, of course, as she had, and whereas it had been silvery and light, it was now pure gold. He was looking forward to working with her and, if it were possible, getting to know her much better. He had had one or two girlfriends, but nothing serious, and there had been no one who had captivated his
heart and his mind in the way she had done.

They travelled, with all their props and bags and baggages, from Scarborough, in the early afternoon of the first Sunday in October. They were bound for Manchester, where they were to play for two weeks at a provincial theatre, the Empire, in the suburb of Gorton, not too far from the city centre.

The Empire was typical of many small theatres on the outskirts of towns and cities – the Empires, Palaces, Alhambras and Hippodromes – insignificant, sometimes drab, little theatres on the whole, but with imposing names. The digs, too, did not vary very much. Maddy, this time, was sharing a room with just Susannah and Nancy. Carlo and Queenie had been allotted a room to themselves, Percy being aware that the couple needed to be kept sweet; they were not too happy about the newcomers and the subsequent changes to the programme. Barney and Benjy and the new young men, Freddie and Jeremy, were sharing an extra large room. Fortunately Mrs Finch, the landlady, had rooms enough for them all; and a bonus was that she was prepared to put on a midday meal at twelve noon, which would give them time to get ready for the matinées on Wednesday and Saturday. They were performing twice nightly, at five-thirty and eight o’clock, but with one evening show only, at seven o’clock, on Wednesday and Saturday. This was the routine in most of the towns they visited, with slight variations.

Freddie, by the second week of their Manchester stay, had decided that it was time he plucked up courage and asked Madeleine if she would go out with him; for supper, perhaps, after the show on Wednesday evening. He was not usually so backward in coming forward, but he had received no encouragement whatsoever from the girl he admired so much. She had spoken to him in a friendly manner, but that was the way she was with everyone. He suspected, to his dismay, that she had scarcely given him a thought since the time they had met in Scarborough; that he was, to her, just another member of the company, of no more significance than those two tap dancers or Jeremy, the new ventriloquist.

However, nothing ventured, nothing gained, he told himself. But before speaking to Madeleine he decided he would have a word with Susannah Brown. He had noticed that the two of them were friendly and they were sharing a room. He had found Susannah to be a straightforward sort of person who always spoke her mind. She would be able to tell him, he hoped, whether or not he might stand a chance in his pursuit of the fair Madeleine.

He chanced to meet her on the corridor outside her room on the Monday night of the second week of their stay. ‘Susannah…have you a moment?’ he began.

‘Certainly, Freddie,’ she answered in her usual coquettish manner, although he knew it was an
assumed impudence, a continuation of the way she flirted with an audience. He had already realised that she and Frank Morrison were what might be termed a ‘couple’. ‘So, what can I do for you, young man?’

‘I wanted to ask you about Madeleine,’ he began. ‘I…well…I like her very much, and I was wondering if she might agree to go out with me; on Wednesday, I thought. I’d like to take her out for supper after the show.’

‘Well, it’s no use asking me, is it, lad? Ask her yourself; she can but say no. But I’ve a feeling she might say yes. Go on, chance your arm; why don’t you?’

‘Is there anyone else though? I mean…she’s such a lovely girl. I wondered if she already had a boyfriend. I haven’t seen any sign of anyone, though; and, of course, she is quite young, isn’t she?’

‘To be quite honest, Freddie, there is someone,’ said Susannah. ‘A young man she met while we were in Blackpool. But there are…complications.’ She didn’t intend to tell him what they were, but she had thought all along that things would never be easy for Maddy and Daniel. And she knew that he hadn’t been to see her yet, in spite of his promises. She thought, now, that it might be a good idea for Maddy to widen her horizons. ‘Ask her,’ she said again. ‘How could she refuse a handsome young man like you! And I wish you the best of luck.’

‘Don’t tell her I’ve spoken to you, will you?’ he insisted.

‘Of course I won’t. Now, make sure you go ahead, and don’t dilly-dally on the way!’

To his great delight Madeleine agreed to go out with him on the Wednesday evening. He had asked her on the Tuesday morning, and at her answer, ‘Yes, why not? Thank you, Freddie, that would be very nice,’ he had dashed into Manchester on Tuesday afternoon and booked a table for two at a little restaurant on Market Street.

They took a tram from Gorton as soon as the performance ended. Freddie could hardly believe his good fortune as he shared a seat with Madeleine on the tramcar, and later, as he gazed at her across the table. She looked enchanting, as always. The tawny feathers on her little hat and her russet-coloured jacket with the fur collar enhanced her colouring: her reddish-gold hair and her warm brown eyes. He made up his mind to proceed carefully, not to do anything to spoil these precious moments.

To Maddy, the restaurant was reminiscent of the one in Leeds where Samuel had taken her on that ill-fated occasion; the red-shaded lights and oak panelling, the snowy white cloths and the gleaming cutlery. But, to her relief, the menu was less complicated, not nearly as posh, to her mind, and it was all written in English.

The fare was more down to earth and after they
had enjoyed chicken soup they both chose beef steak and chips with mushrooms and tomatoes. Their chatter was inconsequential, about their fellow artistes in the main, as might be expected. Freddie had struck up quite a friendship with Jeremy Jarvis, who was a few years his senior. She was interested to hear that that young man was still corresponding with Dora Daventry, the singer who had not been successful at the audition and who lived in Huddersfield.

‘We will be in Huddersfield in a few weeks’ time,’ said Freddie, ‘so he’ll be able to see her then. I sense romance in the air with those two.’

‘It’s rather a pity she wasn’t taken on at the same time as you and Jeremy,’ said Maddy. ‘I haven’t met her, but she sounds very nice from all accounts. Although we do have a fair number of singers, of course. I can think of a couple of them, though, who are not too happy at the moment.’

‘You mean Carlo and Queenie, I presume?’

‘Yes, that’s right. I guessed you might have noticed. I think we all have.’ Carlo’s and Queenie’s mutterings had become more audible during their stay in Manchester. One of their duets had been cut out, and Carlo’s monologues were no longer required at all, to make room for the conjuror and ventriloquist.

‘Now, Madeleine,’ said Freddie, when they had both eaten every last morsel on their plates. ‘How about a dessert? Do you think you can manage one?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ she replied. He was glad she was not one of those fussy, faddy young women, forever worrying about putting on an ounce or two by eating the wrong things. She obviously enjoyed her food; in fact, she seemed to enjoy every aspect of life. ‘What about Manchester tart, seeing that we’re in Manchester?’ she suggested. ‘My mother used to make Yorkshire curd tart. My real mother, I mean; she died when I was ten. Perhaps Manchester tart is a similar sort of delicacy; I think I’ll try it anyway.’

‘Yes, and so will I,’ he agreed. ‘I didn’t know about your mother, Madeleine. I’m sorry to hear about that. It must have been sad for you, losing her when you were only a little girl. There was a lady at the station with your father, when we were leaving Scarborough. So, of course, I assumed…’

‘That she was my mother?’ Maddy smiled. ‘That was Faith – I still call her Aunty Faith – and she’s been a wonderful stepmother to me. She was a family friend, and she and my father got married four years ago. Yes, it was dreadful, very sad as you say, losing my mother at such an age; but I guess it’s dreadful however old or young you are. I still think of her, but not with the same agonising grief. By the way, why don’t you call me Maddy, like everyone else does? I wish you would.’

‘Oh, all right then,’ said Freddie. ‘I’ll call you Maddy, if that’s what you prefer. It’s just that
Madeleine is such a lovely name, and it suits you very well.’

That was exactly what Dan had said to her; and he, Dan, was the only one now who used the full version of her name; and that was the reason she did not want Freddie to call her Madeleine. It was special; it was Daniel’s way of addressing her.

‘My mother makes curd tart too,’ Freddie told her. ‘I must admit I’m missing her cooking now I’m away from home. But Mrs Finch is a jolly good landlady, isn’t she?’

‘Make the most of it,’ laughed Maddy. ‘She’s the exception, rather than the rule. We might get somebody not nearly as good a cook, nor so obliging, next week.’

The Manchester tart, when it arrived, was nothing like curd tart. It was a custard mixture in a pastry case, with a layer of jam underneath and shreds of coconut sprinkled on the top. Very palatable though, and they both enjoyed it.

Whilst they were waiting for the coffee to be served, Freddie decided to pluck up courage and try to proceed a little further with his courtship – if he could dare to call it that – of Madeleine.

Her hand lay on the table, and he reached out his own and gently took hold of hers. ‘Madeleine…’ he began. ‘I mean… Maddy; I have really enjoyed being here with you tonight. And I’m hoping we might be able to do it again…soon. In fact, I would like to go on seeing you; I mean, not just seeing you
when we are performing, but all the time. I realised as soon as I met you again that I wanted to get to know you better, a lot better. Would you…would you go out with me again?’

‘Oh, Freddie…’ she replied, looking at him with such tenderness in her lovely brown eyes, but with a touch of pity too. She gave a sad little smile. ‘I’ve enjoyed it too, I really have. But if you mean what I think you mean then…I’d better tell you right away; I’ve got a boyfriend. He lives in Blackpool. That’s where I met him, when we were performing there earlier this year. And we…well, I suppose you could say we fell in love straight away.’

‘Oh…I see.’ Freddie squeezed her hand lightly, then let go of it. ‘I’m sorry; I understand.’

‘You weren’t to know, were you? He hasn’t been to see me lately. He works in a shop, a gentlemen’s outfitters – Dan, he’s called – and he’s been extra busy lately with his boss being ill. But I shall be seeing him soon.’ Her face lit up in a glowing smile. ‘I’m sorry, Freddie, but I hope we can go on being friends. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t, is there?’

‘No…no, none at all,’ replied Freddie, with an assumed cheerfulness, although he was, in truth, feeling utterly deflated. He had thought he might have had a slight chance with her, even though Susannah had warned him that there was someone already in Maddy’s life; she had also said that there were ‘complications’, which had given him an
added hope. But Maddy obviously did not intend telling him what they were. However, he was not going to let her see how downcast he was.

He put on a brave face, hiding his disappointment very well beneath a bright smile and a flow of trivial chatter. After all, he was a real artiste now, a ‘pro’, and it was well-known that all true stage folk were able to conceal their aching hearts and carry on.

They did not linger over the coffee as the hour was getting late and they must return to Gorton. As they sat on the homebound tramcar Maddy turned to him and said, ‘Thank you, Freddie. I’ve had a lovely evening. And I do hope we can go on being friends.’