Rhiannon (13 page)

Rhiannon awoke in a cold sweat. She'd had another bad dream about Mair. This wouldn't do. For days now she'd had this terrible feeling of foreboding regarding Mair's safety. She so wanted – no – needed to find her.

A few days ago she'd broached the subject with her Aunt Florrie and was left in no doubt of her aunt's true feeling on the matter.

‘Aunt Florrie, I thought I might visit the Theatre Bar during the interval this evening.'

‘Why on earth would you want to do that? I'm well informed that all sorts of unscrupulous folk mingle up there. It's no place for a young, impressionable girl like you.'

‘I believe it's where I'll find Nellie; you know, Mair's mother. When Mair bumped into her in the foyer, Nellie told her that she and her friends were frequent visitors the Theatre Bar. I thought ... the thing is, Nellie's the only one who can tell me where to find Mair.'

‘No. I forbid it! When are you going to get it into your head that Mair is no longer our concern?'

‘But Aunt Florrie, I promised her,' Rhiannon pleaded.

‘A promise which, while well-intentioned, you made on the spur of the moment, with no thought of the consequences. Now that Nellie and Mair are reunited, they have a wonderful opportunity to make a fresh start – to begin a new life. The last thing they need is for you to be raking over old ground. You'd do best to leave well alone.'

‘But—'

‘Rhiannon, I'll not hear another word.'

While common sense told Rhiannon to let the matter rest, her conscience said otherwise. She had made a promise to Mair ... and finding her was the only way to prove to Rhiannon that all was well between them. If, as Aunt Florrie assured her, Mair wanted to be with
Nellie then Rhiannon would have to accept it. With this in mind, a determined Rhiannon made the brave decision to go against her Aunt Florrie's wishes.

 

It was Friday night and, as usual, the show was playing to a packed theatre. Rhiannon was convinced that tonight, the start of the weekend, there would be a good chance of seeing Nellie and her friends in the Theatre Bar.

With the sound of the band's rendition of the National Anthem signalling the end of the first show, Rhiannon, with much trepidation, quickly weaved her way through the maze of backstage, heading for the stage door. From there she intended to enter the front door of the theatre into the foyer and then go up the sweeping staircase past the Lounge Bar and then on up to the Theatre Bar. Rhiannon believed there was less chance of her Aunt Florrie or Walter catching her if she went that way than if she used the stairway in the main auditorium.

She was thankful to find that she had made it to the stage door without arousing suspicion. She breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good.

‘Well now, what's this? Now where might you be going in such a God almighty hurry?'

Gus Davenport's loud voice startled her. He stood just outside the stage door, smoking a cigarette.

‘Shhh! Please Gus, I'm on my way to the Theatre Bar. It's a secret.'

‘I bet. I dread to think what your aunt would say. A secret, you say . . . sneaking off to meet some young fellow, eh? If that's truly the case, may I say how green with envy he's made me.'

He moved to stand in front of her, blocking her way.

Rhiannon felt her colour rise. ‘Well, you're wrong! It's nothing like that.'

‘I'm intrigued.' Gus waited for her to elaborate.

‘Look, if I'm to be back in prompt corner in time for the second performance, I have to go now. I need to find my stepmother and there's a good chance she'll be up there. Please Gus – let me pass.'

‘Have you been up there before?' Gus asked.

Rhiannon shook her head.

‘Then, if that's the case, there's no way I can let you go up there on your own.'

Her eyes pleaded with him.

He smiled and offered her his hand. ‘Come on, there's only one
thing for it – I'm going to have to escort you.'

 

Nellie and Mair entered the smoke-filled Theatre Bar.

‘Now you be on your best behaviour, mind. Or this will be the first time and last time I bring you,' Nellie warned.

‘Why are we here?' Mair asked.

‘We're here to meet one of Harry's friends and you know what you have to do? Just parade yourself in front of them and try to look interested.'

Mair stopped in her tracks, she felt physically sick. ‘Please, mam, I don't want to. I hate the way they look at me.'

Nellie grabbed her arm and squeezed hard.

Mair grimaced with pain.

‘Listen to me, you ungrateful little bitch. You'll do what me and Harry tell you to do, or else! And how many times do you need reminding? My name is Nellie. What's my name?'

‘Nellie,' Mair whispered.

‘Sorry, I can't hear you.' Nellie placed a hand to her ear.

‘Nellie,' Mair repeated in a louder voice.

‘That's better. My Harry says that if the punters ... sorry, his friends, knew our true relationship, it wouldn't be good for business.'

Mair looked past the bar area and quickly scanned the packed auditorium. There was no sign of Rhiannon.

‘If you've a mind to seek out your precious Rhiannon, forget it. It'll do you no good to go whimpering to the likes of her. From now on, your life is with me and Harry.'

‘But it's been ages. I'm sure she'd want—'

‘What?' Nellie interrupted her. ‘Want to see you?' She sniggered. ‘From what I hear, that young madam is far too busy buttering up to men with influence to bother about likes of you.'

‘Rhi isn't like that! She wouldn't—'

‘Wouldn't what? Offer a favour for a favour? Grow up. How else do you think she got the chance to appear on stage? And I say good for her. You get nothing for nothing in this world.'

Mair didn't for one moment believe her.

Mair had overheard Nellie's friends at the King's Head talking about Rhiannon, the girl who'd made such an impression on the Empire's audience. How Mair wished she could have been there to see it.

Somehow Mair just had to get in touch with Rhi. If Rhi knew what
Harry and Nellie were going to make her do she'd – Mair stopped herself. Who was she fooling? Rhiannon couldn't help her. And, more to the point, she probably wouldn't want to. Up to now Rhiannon hadn't even attempted to find her.
I promise to always be there for you
, Rhiannon had assured her. So where was she now?

 

Rhiannon willingly let Gus lead her from the stage door and down the dark, narrow alley, that led to the brightly lit front entrance of the theatre. The touch of his firm hand in hers felt good. She tried to imagine what it might be like to have his strong arms around her, then she scolded herself for having such sinful thoughts about a man she hardly knew. Yet there could be no denying the effect this handsome, charming, masterful man had on her; arousing new and exciting feelings, that screamed to be set free.

Gus led her through the entrance, deftly manoeuvring his way through the crowds of theatregoers in the foyer, all awaiting the second show.

‘We'll have to be quick. Adam will have our guts for garters if we're late back for curtain up ... I must be mad.' Gus quickened his pace taking the stairs leading to the bar, two at a time. It was as much as Rhiannon could do to keep in step.

A somewhat breathless Rhiannon entered the Theatre Bar alongside Gus. Through the haze of cigarette smoke she couldn't believe her eyes. The room was a maelstrom of men, women, girls and young boys, drinking, laughing and chatting, each competing to be heard above a cacophony of noise. Rhiannon was shocked to see the way well-dressed, and obviously well-to-do gentlemen were behaving; openly fondling coarse-looking women, who wore low-cut bodices, while other women sat atop tables, their skirts hitched up showing far too much ankle, laughing and drinking. And what were those young boys doing in the company of those lecherous looking old men? Was this what Frank's mother had meant by the ‘rougher element of the theatre' and the reason her aunt had been so against her coming here?

Among the noisy crowd, Rhiannon was surprised to see some of the older chorus girls and a few of the cast from the show.

‘Any sign of your stepmother?' Gus asked.

‘No. I can't tell if she's here. It's far too busy.'

‘And what do we have here? Now there's a turn up for the books. Gus Davenport, you sly old thing.' Sally Webber sniggered. She stood no more than a few feet away from them, still wearing her street urchin
costume from the first show.

Gus immediately let go of Rhiannon's hand.

‘Too late, me laddo. I saw you holding hands with little miss innocent, there.'

Rhiannon felt her colour rise. ‘It's not what you think. Gus—'

‘Oh you can't tell me anything about our Gus. Most of us girls backstage have fallen for his charms at some time or other. He can be a right charmer and that's for sure.' Sally turned to Gus. ‘I'm a bit surprised at you bringing her to a place like this. Mind you, after the speed with which she jumped into my shoes on stage, there's no doubt that she's a fast learner.'

‘Sally, if I were you I'd not judge everyone by your standards. Just go about your business and leave us alone.'

‘Sorry, I'm sure. I'll not stay where I'm not wanted,' she scoffed and, with an elaborate turn, moved away.

Gus turned his attention to Rhiannon. ‘Look, Rhi, I can see you're not comfortable being here. So, why don't you make your way back to the auditorium? I'll make some enquiries regarding your stepmother. What did you say her name was?'

‘Her name's Nellie Parsons.'

‘Will you be all right heading back on your own?'

Rhiannon nodded, ‘Thank you, I'll be fine.'

 

Nellie Parsons was quick to spot Rhiannon and Gus Davenport entering the bar. He wasn't half a bit of all right. Rhiannon, the lucky bitch, had landed herself a good catch there. But what the hell were they doing up here? The last thing she needed was that little madam quizzing Mair.

‘Mair, follow me, I need the privy.'

Nellie knew that as the show chairman, Rhiannon's escort would need to be on stage for the start of the second show. She thought it prudent that she and Mair should lie low in the ladies' cloakroom until then.

 

Rhiannon was waiting in the prompt corner when Gus returned from the Theatre Bar.

‘Well? Did you find out anything?'

‘Yes. Apparently, we must have just missed her. She was there with another girl.'

‘I knew it. I knew I should have gone there earlier. Goodness knows
when she'll be there again.'

‘Listen, all's not lost. I found out that she and her friends regularly meet at the King's Head on Westgate Street.'

‘How far is that?'

‘It's not far. About a ten-minute walk, but don't you go having any ideas about wandering the streets on your own. Promise me that you'll speak to me first.'

Rhiannon nodded. At last she felt that with Gus's help she would find Mair. Gus was turning out to be her knight in shining armour.

 

It was early Sunday morning and Rhiannon readied herself for her planned trip. She was dressed in a long navy skirt, white high-necked blouse trimmed with lace and a dark-blue velvet jacket, just one of the outfits purchased on a recent shopping expedition with her Aunt Florrie.

‘Aunt Florrie, giving of your time and money like this is so very kind of you,' Rhiannon had said, and meant it.

‘You're so welcome my dear. It's about time you had a new wardrobe. Just you remember that the way you look and carry yourself throughout life is as important as the success you now crave. In the few weeks since you arrived in Cardiff I've watch you blossom into a confident young lady. And, as a young lady, I trust you'll always conduct yourself in a proper manner, whether I'm here to look out for you or not.'

‘Thank you, Aunt, I'll not let you down.'

 

Rhiannon was just about to reach for her elegant new hat when there was a tap on the door. She quickly removed her velvet jacket, casually placed it on the bed and opened the door.

‘Good morning, Rhi. So glad to see you up and about so early,' Walter gushed.

‘Good morning, Walter,' she replied.

‘The thing is, this morning your aunt has arranged for us to have breakfast in her room.

‘Why? Is anything wrong?' Rhiannon was only too aware of how her aunt usually preferred to breakfast alone.

‘No, not at all, she just felt it would be nice if we all had a little chat. You know? About your forthcoming stage début and our trip to America.‘ He gave a nervous cough. ‘Come along now, she's waiting.'

Rhiannon reluctantly followed Walter, annoyed in the knowledge
that her planned secret trip would now have to wait until after breakfast.

 

‘There you are.'

Her aunt, dressed in a long, pink, silk housecoat sat at the table near the large French window overlooking Cardiff Castle.

‘I took the liberty of ordering some champagne and strawberries by way of a little celebration. Come on, Walter, pop the cork.'

Walter, first removing the gold foil and twisted wire from the champagne bottle, expertly teased out the cork, which exploded noisily across the room.

‘What are we celebrating?' Rhiannon asked, as Walter filled three elegant, bowl-shaped, champagne glasses.

Florrie picked up her glass and held it aloft. ‘To my forthcoming trip to America!'

‘What? You mean it's settled? You're actually leaving? When?'

‘We leave at the beginning of next week. Isn't that exciting?'

‘What about your contract at the Empire?' Rhiannon asked.

‘Walter, the clever love, has managed to wangle my early release from the contract.'