‘Of course you can act, child! I watched you day and night at Tanglefield’s, playing the role of ringmaster to perfection. You’re simply suffering first-night nerves,’ she said, putting her arm round me. ‘You will do splendidly, I promise you. I believe in you, Hetty. Now you must believe in yourself.’
‘Will you come and watch me, Madame Adeline?’ I begged. ‘Mr Parkinson says we can invite special family and friends for the opening night.’
‘Of course I will,’ she said, clasping my hand and squeezing it. ‘Are you inviting anyone else? Perhaps Miss Grundy?’
Harry had already invited Miss Grundy as his special guest. There were so many people I’d like to invite. Some were neither family nor friends. I’d have loved to invite Matron Pigface and Matron Bottomly from the Foundling Hospital, just to see their expressions when the red-haired child of Satan came bounding onto the stage. I didn’t think Miss Sarah Smith would approve of my new profession either, but she would appreciate the literary content of the play. My older foster sisters would tut and act superior, though they might secretly be envious. Gideon would love to see me in a play, but he wouldn’t leave Mother – and she would be shocked. She’d been appalled when I joined Madame Adeline in the circus ring as a tiny child.
What about Jem? Oh, how I’d love Jem to see me, and Janet too, but they’d have to stay in London overnight after the performance, and where would they go? I couldn’t ask Miss Grundy to accommodate yet more friends. Father was even further away, though how wonderful it would be if he could see me playing the young David Copperfield when he had given me the precious book. And Mama . . . I ached for Mama. I so hoped she would be proud of me.
I’m always proud of you, Hetty, she said when I crept back to my own bed. You’re my own dear child. I can’t wait to see you act on stage.
I was still desperately anxious, but I was comforted by Madame Adeline’s presence in the next bed, Diamond’s warm little body nestled against my own, and Mama safe in my heart.
There was one more person I longed to invite. I longed and longed and longed to invite him. I lay awake thinking about him, turning the ring on my finger. I didn’t fall asleep till the room was starting to turn silvery-grey and the first birds were singing outside the attic window.
When I woke up, the room was bright with sunlight, in spite of the drawn curtains, and the bedroom was empty. Running downstairs, I was astonished to find it was nearly midday. Madame Adeline and Miss Grundy were baking cakes together, Diamond was teaching Mavis a new trick, and Harry was sprawled in his dressing gown, reading a newspaper on the sofa, with Miss Grundy’s kitten comfortably draped across his large stomach.
‘Good morning, Miss Rip Van Winkle,’ said Harry. ‘Or should I say, good afternoon?’
‘Take no notice of Harry, dear. What would you like for breakfast?’ asked Miss Grundy.
‘I’m so sorry I slept in. I feel dreadfully lazy,’ I said.
‘Yes, you absolutely wouldn’t wake up, even when I gave you a little shake,’ said Diamond.
‘I think Hetty was awake half the night.’ Madame Adeline smiled at me. ‘You needed to sleep on, dear. Do you feel rested now?’
‘I think so,’ I said.
I didn’t really know what I felt. My head was still whirling, and every time I thought of the evening’s performance I felt sick. I could only manage a couple of bites of toast for breakfast, and a mere mouthful of egg-and-bacon pie for luncheon an hour or so later.
I was glad to see Madame Adeline eating heartily. Diamond ate enthusiastically too, and Miss Grundy cleared her own plate, though she always ate slowly, taking care not to spill anything. Harry usually wolfed his meals down and hoped for seconds, but today he was only toying with his food.
‘It looks as if you and I have first-night collywobbles,’ he said to me. ‘I think we should go for a long walk to clear our heads and stretch our tense muscles. Let’s all go!’
Harry’s idea of a long walk was an amble to St James’s Park, where he flopped down on a bench by the lake and fed the birds crumbs, but it was enjoyably diverting all the same. Passers-by sometimes stopped and stared because we were a motley crew. There was huge Harry and chalk-white Miss Grundy, fragile Madame Adeline with her defiant bright red hair, and pretty little Diamond laden with two dolls and a monkey on a lead. And there was me, Hetty Feather, brought up a mile or so away, and yet only let out to see London once in those nine long years.
Folk had stared then, that day of freedom on Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. They’d shaken their heads at my old-fashioned brown frock, my white cap and tippet and sleeves, my thick darned stockings and worn boots. I was obviously a foundling child, an object of pity and contempt.
I wondered if anyone would guess that I was a foundling now. We walked back to Miss Grundy’s via Shaftesbury Avenue. We paused outside the theatre, looking up at the posters. There was a beautiful full-length portrait of Miss Royal in her prime. Her name topped the bill. Harry was photographed too, a head-and-shoulders portrait, with Hilarious Harry Henderson, world-famous character actor written underneath. He muttered the wording to himself approvingly.
Diamond and I didn’t get a photograph, but our names were there, albeit at the bottom of the poster.
And introducing our Little Stars Emerald and Diamond, child actors extraordinaire!
‘Look, Diamond! Do you see our names?’ I said excitedly.
‘What does that funny long word say at the end?’ she asked.
‘Extraordinaire. It’s a foreign way of saying we’re extraordinary,’ I said.
‘And so you are,’ said Madame Adeline.
‘Extraordinaire! Extraordinaire!’ Diamond sang, twirling round and round.
‘Extraordinaire! Extraordinaire!’ Harry sang in a deep fruity voice, copying Diamond’s little-girl dance.
‘Extraordinaire! Extraordinaire!’ Madame Adeline sang, and she hitched her skirts to her knees, and twirled too, her thin legs suddenly showing their strength.
‘Extraordinaire! Extraordinaire! Oh my goodness, we are all extraordinaire!’ I sang, and I danced right round them in a circle.
I tried to murmur extraordinaire to myself hours later, shivering in the wings, waiting to go on stage. Marina Royal was acting the first scene with Stella, who was playing my mother. Miss Royal played Aunt Betsy Trotwood to perfection, so neat and particular and impatient, fiddling with her bonnet strings and twitching her crinoline. Stella was clearly very nervous and stammered her lines a little, but it didn’t matter because my mother was supposed to be afraid of this alarming relative. At least she was word perfect. My own lines darted in and out of my head, frequently disappearing. How could I hope to be extraordinaire if I stood on stage like a dummy, unable to say a single word?
I’ve never known you at a loss for something to say, Hetty!
It was Mama, there inside me, gently teasing me.
‘Oh, Mama, I’m so scared,’ I told her. ‘I know I’ve performed hundreds of times before. I’ve shouted in the circus, I’ve been a Little Star, I’ve played Alice – but this is different. This is a proper theatre in the West End and it’s real acting and I don’t think I can do it.’
Yes you can! I’m so proud of you. Good luck, darling girl!
‘Good luck, my dear!’ Miss Royal whispered, coming off stage in her crinoline. She gave me a hug. I felt her trembling, and realized that even she got nervous on a first night.
Then Harry appeared in the wings in long skirts and apron, a splendid Nurse Peggotty. ‘Come along then, Master Davy,’ he whispered, in character already.
We went on stage hand in hand. I don’t know whose was clammiest, his or mine.
For a moment the lights were so dazzling after the dark wings that I hung back, startled, horribly aware of row after row of faces, like apples stored for the winter, but I let Harry lead me to the armchair in the centre of the stage. He sat down, showing his long lace drawers, which made the audience chuckle. I perched beside him and asked
, ‘Were you ever married, Peggotty? You are a very handsome woman, aren’t you?’
The audience laughed out loud now, and Harry played up to them, but I stayed solemn, because I was little Davy and I was fretting about people marrying. I read from my book about crocodiles, and then Stella came in with Mr Parkinson, playing my soon-to-be stepfather, Mr Murdstone. Mr Parkinson seemed to grow in stature, towering over me in a sinister fashion, and I flinched away.
Then Peggotty and I were dispatched to the seaside and entered the magical house on the beach made out of an old black barge. Diamond came skipping on stage in a simple frock, her blue beads about her neck. I heard the audience give a sigh of appreciation because she looked so pretty. I thought her pretty too – after all, I was little Davy, falling in love with her at first sight.
We went for a walk on the beach hand in hand, chattering together. Diamond stumbled a little over her speech about the finery she’d like to deck her Uncle Dan in, but I helped her out, suggesting nankeen trousers and a red velvet waistcoat, and it sounded utterly natural.
Then I had to return home, and now Mr Murdstone lived there with my mother, and was so cruel and unkind to me. I had to recite my lessons to him but I was so frightened I couldn’t remember the words. Oh, I knew that feeling well! Then he became terrifyingly angry and seized hold of me, ready to beat me. I thought of all the unfair punishments the matrons at the hospital had inflicted on me, and bit his hand in a fury.
The audience cried out in support, and booed when Murdstone punished me. I was sent away to school and met Mr Micawber (Harry again, now in a yellow waistcoat and checked trousers). I sought refuge with Aunt Betsy Trotwood – a wondrous scene with Miss Royal! Then I met the Wickfields and the horrible Uriah Heep, and then – oh dear goodness, then I came off stage and Cedric took over, playing the grown-up David. Young Davy didn’t exist any more.
‘Did I do it right, Hetty?’ Diamond asked anxiously.
‘You were a wonderful little Em’ly,’ I said. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’
‘Sort of,’ said Diamond. ‘I still don’t really like acting but I love wearing my blue beads.’
I gave her a hug.
‘Listen, Diamond, I promise you don’t ever have to act again, not if you don’t want to. I’ll do all the acting for both of us – and I’ll buy you a new bead necklace each time I get a new part.’
We were meant to go back to the dressing room and wait till the very end of the play, when we were to join the rest of the players and take a bow. Diamond did slip back to check on Adeline and Maybelle, who were tucked up in an old shawl, having a nap. I’d persuaded her to leave Mavis safely at home, tied up so she couldn’t do too much damage in the house, while Lily darted about, teasing her.
I stayed in the wings, caught up in the drama. I knew they were only ordinary folk under their greasepaint and wigs, I knew it was just a play, I knew we were in a theatre with hundreds of folk watching – but it also seemed real. I watched Cedric as if he were my own self grown up. I laughed, I cried, I hissed at Uriah Heep – and at the end I cheered. As soon as the curtain went down the other players beckoned, and Diamond and I ran on stage too.
We all took bows and the audience went on cheering. I peered into the stalls and all those apple faces became real people. I saw dear Madame Adeline clapping and clapping, tears running down her cheeks – and Miss Grundy standing in her white frock and whistling, especially when told Harry was taking an extra bow.
‘You two girls bow too!’ Harry insisted.
Diamond and I stood hand in hand. She did her little curtsy and I made a stiff little bow, because I was still in character as Davy. Then Cedric and I stood together and bowed to each other as well as the audience, before giving way to Miss Royal and Mr Parkinson. Of course, they were the stars – but I was experienced enough with audiences to know that Diamond and I were a real success. I was actually called back for another encore. When I took off my cap and let my long red hair fall past my shoulders, there was a gasp, because few people had realized I was actually a girl. There was another burst of clapping and this time I curtsied.
Miss Royal came and put her arm round my shoulders. ‘You’ll remember this moment for ever, little Emerald,’ she said, and I knew she was right.
There was a celebration backstage, with champagne flowing, but this time I wasn’t tempted, though Harry rubbed his hands and was obviously preparing for a long and happy night. Diamond and I drank a glass of lime cordial with Madame Adeline and Miss Grundy. I suggested going home first, determined to show everyone that I was being sensible this time.
When we went out through the stage door, we found quite a crowd gathered there, wanting to congratulate the actors and ask for autographs. They were mostly waiting for Miss Royal, but to my delight they clamoured for our autographs too.
Diamond struggled to print her name, but I signed Emerald Star with a flourish. At first I chatted to each person as I wrote, but more and more people crowded round. I was aware that Madame Adeline was starting to look very tired, though Miss Grundy was bouncing about excitedly. I signed more quickly, scarcely looking up.
‘I don’t want an Emerald Star signature – Hetty Feather will do me,’ said a voice.
I looked up and gasped. I saw a small square figure in the darkness. ‘Bertie! My own dear Bertie!’ I cried, and I threw my arms round him and hugged him close.
Diamond came leaping over and clung to him like a little Mavis, squeaking with excitement.
Madame Adeline and Miss Grundy stood back tactfully, a little bewildered.
‘I can’t believe you’re actually here, Bertie!’ I said. ‘How did you know it was our first night?’
‘Well, you certainly didn’t tell me,’ he said, shaking his head at me. ‘Whatever possessed you to disappear like that?’
‘Didn’t Miss Gibson give you my note?’
‘Yes, she did, but it was so cryptic it was worse than useless! I had the devil of a job tracking you down until I came up to London and saw that poster outside the theatre. Why didn’t you tell me you were going?’
‘I couldn’t tell you why, Bertie, because I was so worried you might do something reckless,’ I said. ‘I still can’t tell you.’
‘You don’t need to! That big Harry was drinking with some of the lads till dawn the next day – he was full of it. I nearly went berserk when I heard! I had to teach that Samson a lesson. I wasn’t going to have him mauling my girl and getting her sacked!’ he declared.
‘Oh, Bertie, did you hit Samson? Did you teach him a lesson? Oh, you’re a hero!’ Diamond exclaimed.
Bertie shrugged. ‘I guess I hit him once or twice, taking him by surprise. But then he started hitting me. And kicking too. Still got the marks to prove it, so mind your cute little feet on my kidneys, Twinkle.’
‘He beat you up?’ I asked.
‘Of course he did,’ said Bertie. ‘Look!’ He set Diamond down and stood under the gas lamp, grinning ruefully.
‘Oh, Bertie, you’ve lost your front teeth!’ I gasped.
‘And I’ve lost my job and all. Mrs Ruby got rid of me right away.’
‘That’s what I was scared of! What are you going to do?’
‘I’m looking round the London halls, seeing if someone will take me on. I’m working on a new act. I’ve had enough of Flirty Bertie. I’m the Gappy Chappie now.’ He exaggerated his grin and sang:
‘I’m the Gappy Chappie,
And I guess I’m small and square,
Yes, I’m the Gappy Chappie,
With the maddest hair.
I’m the Gappy Chappie,
I know I shouldn’t stand a chance,
But I’m the Gappy Chappie,
And you should see me dance!’
Then he started a new tap-dance, while singing:
‘Watch my two-step,
My me-and-you step,
With a little twirl,
Yep, I’ll get any girl!’
He ended with a flourish. I
clapped, Diamond clapped, Madame Adeline and Miss Grundy clapped, the autograph hunters clapped – even complete strangers clapped.
‘That’s wonderful! But, Bertie, how will you get work if you’re blacklisted? If Mrs Ruby puts the word out, none of the halls will take you,’ I said anxiously.
‘That’s nonsense. You’re a fool to fall for that spiel, Hetty. She hasn’t got that sort of power. She’s Queen of the Cavalcade, but it’s just a little provincial gaff compared to these ones in the Big Smoke. I should have tried my luck here before. You wait and see – I’ll be a star too one day,’ said Bertie, with some of his old swagger.
‘I know you will!’ I said.
‘But I won’t be a patch on you, girl.’ He took my hand and lowered his voice. ‘You’re still wearing my ring then?’
‘Of course I am. I’ve never taken it off.’
‘Does that mean you’re still mine?’
‘Yes, it does!’ I said.
‘Then you’re a little cracker,’ said Bertie, and he kissed me there and then, in front of everyone.
Diamond clapped her hands. Madame Adeline and Miss Grundy laughed, while the crowd around us whistled and cheered.
‘How long have you been in London, Bertie? Have you found digs for yourself?’ I asked anxiously.
‘I’ve discovered a lovely airy room, completely rent free,’ said Bertie.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve been dossing down on a park bench for the last three nights,’ he told me, laughing.
‘We can’t have that, young man. Any friend of Hetty and Diamond is a friend of mine,’ said Miss Grundy. ‘Such special friends too!’ She squeezed Madame Adeline’s arm. ‘We’ll find a spare sofa for him, won’t we, Adeline.’
‘Oh yes, yes, yes!’ said Diamond. ‘This is the best day of my life! We’re all going to be together like a proper family. We will stay together, won’t we, Hetty? Do you promise?’
I took a deep breath.