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- Herausgeber: Allison & Busby
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Madeleine Moon has turned seventeen and the day has come for her to leave the family home - she's achieved her ambition of topping the bill as 'Yorkshire's own songbird'. But visiting the north-coast tourist towns isn't the only journey she's about to embark on; Maddy's heart is taken on a bumpy ride as she experiences the highs and lows, the rapture and the heartache, of falling in love for the first time. Will her dreams of romance and 'happy ever after' come true? Warm and nostalgic, Remember Me is a book for anyone who smiles at the memory of their first love, and the foolish mistakes they made along the way.
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Seitenzahl: 615
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014
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Remember Me
MARGARET THORNTON
Dedication
For my friends at Bispham Townswomen’s Guild, especially the choir members who will recognise the songs.
And with love to my husband, John, as always, with happy memories of our holidays in Scarborough. It is very much ‘our place’.
Contents
Chapter One
‘And now, for your delight and delectation we have a dainty, adorable and – oh so demure! – young damsel… Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big welcome to… Miss Madeleine Moon…’
Maddy grinned at Percy, the master of ceremonies. She still couldn’t help but feel a giggle inside her at the effusive introduction afforded not only to her, but to all the members of the troupe. To a ripple of applause she stepped onto the stage, then stood in the spotlight, looking out at the darkness in the auditorium and the sea of faces, only those in the first couple of rows being distinguishable. Samuel would be there somewhere, much further back she guessed, so there was no point in trying to look for him.
She gave a nod to the pianist, Letty, in the orchestra pit below her, and after a single note on the piano she began to sing…
‘Dear thoughts are in my mind
And my soul soars enchanted
As I hear the sweet lark sing
In the clear air of the day…’
She sang this first song unaccompanied, in the way that traditional folk music, like this lovely Irish air, was supposed to be sung. It was what she had always done when singing with the Pierrots on the beach at Scarborough. Percy Morgan, the leader of the troupe, had wondered at first whether this type of singing would go down as well with the music hall audiences, who tended to be more worldly and certainly more critical. But he had soon realised that his fears were unfounded. The audiences in the Yorkshire and Lancashire towns that they visited during the autumn and winter of each year, when the summer Pierrot season finished, had taken Maddy to their hearts, accepting her simplicity and sincerity at face value. She was an unaffected young girl with no airs and graces; a pleasant change, indeed, from some of the more raucous acts that they saw from time to time. Though never, it had to be said, when Morgan’s Melody Makers were performing.
All eyes were drawn to Maddy as she stood perfectly still in the centre of the stage, her lilting silver-toned voice ringing out clearly across the rows and rows of seats. She was a picture of innocence and purity in her simple dress of cream-coloured silk and lace, with a sweetheart neckline and large puffed sleeves. Her golden hair was loose, waving gently around the nape of her neck and her forehead. A sweet and pretty girl whom the audience guessed could not be more than sixteen or so, standing in front of an idyllic painted landscape of hills, trees and flowers.
Their guess was correct. Maddy would be seventeen years old in the June of 1907, that would be in three months’ time. And she already believed herself to be deeply in love. Her thoughts strayed to the young man who was the object of her affections as she sang the last verse of her song.
‘I shall tell him all my love,
All my soul’s adoration,
And I think he will hear
And will not say me nay.
It is this that gives my soul
All its joyous elation,
As I hear the sweet lark sing
In the clear air of the day.’
The applause that followed was spontaneous and sustained. She could feel the warmth of feeling reaching out to her from the members of the audience. You could always tell when you had a receptive audience and she knew that they certainly had one tonight. She smiled and bobbed a curtsy before continuing with her second song.
Percy Morgan had decided that enough was enough with regard to the soulful, often plaintive, folk music that Maddy sang unaccompanied, and that her second song should be more in keeping with the mood of a music hall audience. Letty, who was the pianist for the troupe as well as being Percy’s wife, always played for her second number, which was usually a popular song of the day. ‘Just like the Ivy’, Maddy sang, with friendliness now rather than with longing in her voice. She raised her hands, beckoning to the audience to join in the last chorus.
‘…As you grow older
I’ll be constant and true;
Just like the ivy
I’ll cling to you.’
Once again she curtsied to the audience, gave a cheery wave of her hand and tripped off into the wings. Barney and Benjy, the tap-dancing duo who were the next act, were waiting there. She gave them a thumbs-up sign as Percy Morgan stepped onto the stage again. ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the dashing, debonair dancing duo, Mr Barnaby Dewhurst and Mr Benjamin Carstairs. Please give a big hand to… Barney and Benjy.’
The strains of ‘Lily of Laguna’ followed Maddy as she went backstage to the dressing room she shared with the other women in the troupe. An odd couple, Barney and Benjy, she mused as she went up the flight of stone steps to the rather shabby, but clean, room that the ladies had been allotted for their week in Leeds. This was not the famous Leeds City Varieties Theatre, where such renowned stars as Marie Lloyd and Vesta Tilley had performed, but a much smaller theatre tucked away in a narrow street off the Headrow.
There were five women in the troupe. Their room was quite large enough, though basic, and fortunately they all got along quite well together. Susannah Brown, who was known as the ‘soubrette’ of the group – a comedienne who sang light-hearted songs and joked with the audience in a friendly and somewhat cheeky manner – was putting the finishing touches to her hair and make-up. Hers would be the last act before the interval. As a new innovation this season, however, she would be joined in her act by Frank Morrison, the ‘Music Man’. He could play a variety of instruments as well as being a passable singer and quite a comic. As the two of them had recently become a couple in their private life, they had decided, with Percy’s permission, to join forces on the stage as well, now and again.
‘Barney and Benjy seem to have sorted out their difference of opinion,’ Maddy remarked as she sat down on one of the bentwood chairs. The only armchair, of worn plush and with sagging springs, was occupied by Queenie Colman, the eldest lady of the troupe, who considered it her right. She always had trouble getting up from it, though, as she was certainly no lightweight. ‘They were smiling at one another while they were waiting to go on. A strange pair, Barney and Benjy, aren’t they?’ Maddy continued. ‘I’m not saying anything wrong about them, ’cause I like them, I really do. They’ve been ever so nice to me since I joined the troupe. But they do seem to fall out a lot… I wonder why they’ve not got married, either of them. They’re both handsome, aren’t they? And the ladies in the audiences seem to like them a lot.’
Susannah laughed and shook her head and Maddy saw her exchange an amused glance with Queenie. ‘Get married? Barney and Benjy? Good gracious me, no! You’re barking up the wrong tree there, luv. They’re wedded to…their art, shall we say? And falling out and making up again is part of their…friendship. Don’t you worry your head about them. And you can be sure that their quarrels don’t make any difference to their performance on stage. They’re true pros, both of them. Now, I’d best love you and leave you…’ Susannah blew them a kiss and hurried out of the room, a bright pink confection of frilly satin and lace, finished off with a large-brimmed hat covered in pink roses, like the icing on the cake.
Queenie was engrossed in a copy of the Stage magazine so Maddy, who found the older woman rather difficult to talk to anyway, busied herself by filling the kettle and putting it on the single gas ring. They would all be glad of a cup of tea during the interval and it was Maddy’s job, as the youngest member, to make it.
Maddy was still the same innocent young girl that she had been eighteen months ago when she had persuaded her father to let her join Morgan’s Melody Makers on their autumn and winter tour. And as she had turned fifteen and had left school two years previously, William Moon had agreed. She had been singing with the Pierrot troupe – Uncle Percy’s Pierrots, as they were known when they performed each summer in Scarborough – quite frequently, ever since she had won their talent contest at the age of eleven. Since leaving school at thirteen she had worked in the gown shop of Louisa Montague, an old family friend, where she had learnt some basic dressmaking skills. But singing was what she had set her heart and mind upon, and despite a little homesickness at first, she was happy and proud to be a member of Percy Morgan’s fine troupe. Percy was a good man, trustworthy, hard-working and fair-minded, who set a high standard of behaviour for the troupe, as did his wife, Letty. If it had been otherwise Maddy’s father would never have allowed her to join them.
It was a busy, and at times a hectic life, but Maddy, being young, strong and enthusiastic, had adapted to it very well. They usually gave ten performances in all throughout the week, varying slightly in whichever town they happened to be in. Here, in Leeds, they gave two performances each night, except on Wednesday and Saturday when there was a matinée followed by only one house in the evening. Monday night’s first house in all the towns consisted largely of free seats handed out to shopkeepers and others who had displayed posters in their windows, or to landladies at the various digs, or anyone, in fact, who was connected in any way with the players or the theatre. It was regarded as a ‘warming up’ session by the artistes, when they could become acquainted with the stage and lighting and the positioning of the props and backcloths.
They were free during the daytime to do as they wished. Many experienced pros, who had seen it all before many times, spent the mornings in bed catching up on lost sleep. But for Maddy, especially during her first year, it had been an opportunity to explore the different towns of Yorkshire and Lancashire, most of which she had never visited before. This was her second visit to Leeds; she had also become acclimatised with York, Bradford, Halifax, Sheffield and Doncaster, and across the other side of the Pennines, the cotton towns of Rochdale and Oldham, Blackburn, Bury and Bolton, and the largest of them all, Manchester.
Percy had insisted at first that she should have another member of the troupe with her on her explorations, especially when she was making her way back to her digs late at night. And so she had come to know Susannah Brown quite well, also Nancy Pritchard, who had an act with performing dogs, and Letty Morgan. Letty was a very motherly person who had no children of her own and she had developed a fondness for the teenage girl. A feeling that was reciprocated. Maddy had become very fond of Letty, and having lost her own mother a few years previously she had been glad of the comforting presence and the help and advice of this warm and sympathetic person. She had been very close to her step-mother, however, back in Scarborough, the woman whom she still referred to as Aunty Faith. But Faith was miles away with Maddy’s father, William; her brother, Patrick; and three of Faith’s own children, Maddy’s stepsisters and stepbrother. The worst thing about all this travelling around was that she saw her family only infrequently, not nearly so much as she would have liked to have done. During the summer, though, she lived at home again, becoming a Pierrot in a white costume and pointed hat, like the rest of the troupe.
Sunday was their travelling day when they boarded the train with all their bags and baggages, their props and portable items of scenery, and moved on to their next port of call. They had travelled from Bradford last Sunday, only a short distance away, and next week they had a booking in Wakefield, which would involve a rather longer journey.
Another thing that artistes had to get used to was the unpredictable meal times. Some landladies might provide a midday cooked meal, with others it might be in the early evening, or not at all. Maddy had been used to regular meal times; dinner at six o’clock on the dot every evening, which was the time best suited to the working hours of her father and grandfather. First house in most towns started at six o’ clock, followed by the second house at eight-thirty. She could not sing after a large meal and there was often very little time left for food. So Maddy would snatch a sandwich when she could or sometimes ate a meal very late at night, a habit which did not seem at all unusual to the rest of the company.
But tonight she was looking forward to a leisurely meal in the company of her stepbrother, Samuel. He was the eldest of Faith’s four children, aged twenty-one, and was in his final year at Leeds University. When he had heard that the troupe was performing in Leeds he had contacted Maddy. They had arranged that he would meet her after the Wednesday evening performance at nine-thirty or so. He would take her out for supper and then see her back safely to her lodgings, not far from City Square.
When she had finished her next appearance in the second half of the show she changed out of her cream-coloured dress into her smart costume, the one that she wore for best or if she was going anywhere special. She felt that it made her look much older, much more a woman of the world, than the simple girlish dresses she wore for her stage appearances. It was made of a royal blue light woollen material and had an ankle-length pleated skirt and a double-breasted jacket edged with red braid, and sported shiny golden buttons. With it she wore a small brimless hat with a red ribbon bow and pom-pom. It had been featured in the shop as a ‘sailing costume’, but she guessed that many of the women who wore a similar costume would, like Maddy herself, not be going anywhere near a boat. She had worn it only twice since she had bought it in January, but tonight was a very special occasion. She wondered if the lightweight wool would be warm enough; the March weather could be unpredictable and there had been a chilly wind when she had walked to the theatre earlier that evening. On the other hand, she doubted that she would notice the weather when she was in the company of Samuel.
‘You look very nice and smart,’ said Susannah. ‘All dressed up in your glad rags. Are you going out after the show?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I am,’ replied Maddy, unable to suppress a satisfied smile. ‘I’m meeting a young man – a friend of mine from home – and he’s taking me out for supper.’
‘Oh! Not one of those stage door Johnnies, is he?’ asked Susannah, looking rather anxious. ‘I promised Letty I would keep an eye on you and see you back safely to our digs. You can’t be too careful, you know.’
‘No!’ said Maddy, a trifle impatiently. ‘I’ve just told you, he’s a friend from home. I’ve known him for ages. Actually…’ she sighed, ‘he’s my stepbrother; you know, my Aunty Faith’s son. He’s at university in Leeds.’ She hadn’t wanted to admit that it was her stepbrother she was meeting. It sounded much more grown-up to say she was meeting a ‘friend’. But it didn’t really matter so long as it would stop Susannah from worrying about her.
‘Oh, I see. That’s all right then,’ said Susannah. ‘And he’ll see you home afterwards, will he?’
‘Of course he will,’ said Maddy. She got a little tired sometimes of the older women’s fussiness, although she knew that they had her best interests at heart, and that their solicitude made her father and Faith feel less anxious about her being away from home.
Susannah might not have been too happy, however, about Maddy meeting her stepbrother had she known that the girl’s feelings towards him were not the least bit sisterly. And Maddy felt, deep down, that his feelings towards her were just the same. She had not, of course, divulged this secret to anyone, not even to Jessie, who was Samuel’s sister and Maddy’s best friend. Maddy had felt an attraction to Samuel when she had first met him, seven years ago, when she and Jessie were both ten years old, and Samuel and her own brother, Patrick, were fourteen. She had admired his handsome looks: his dark eyes and dark hair and his serious-looking face that reminded her of a picture of a knight of old in a history book. And how different he had seemed from her brother, Patrick, who was forever laughing and joking and teasing her.
She knew that Jessie, likewise, had at first developed fond feelings for Patrick; but she also knew that those feelings had passed and that Jessie did not mind at all that Patrick was now engaged to be married to Katy, the girl he had been courting for several years. Their relationship – that of Jessie and Patrick – had become very much a sisterly, brotherly friendship.
When they had all met in the summer of 1900, Maddy’s mother, Clara, had still been living. Indeed, who could possibly have imagined that within a few months, in the February of 1901, she would have died following an attack of pneumonia? Maddy and Jessie had met on the beach at Scarborough whilst they were both watching a performance by ‘Uncle Percy’s Pierrots’, the troupe to which Maddy now belonged. The Moon family and the Barraclough family had become friendly, although Faith and her husband, Edward, had already been living more or less separate lives. William Moon would never have become enamoured with another woman so long as his beloved wife, Clara, was living. Maddy, with a wisdom beyond her years, had known that. She had not objected, therefore – and neither had Jessie – when their respective father and mother had fallen in love and been married a few years later.
The only member of either family who had shown any animosity was Samuel Barraclough. He had always been much closer to his father than Jessie and the twins, Tommy and Tilly, who were several years younger. Maddy thought she could understand how Samuel felt. Divorce was a rare occurrence, something that was still spoken of in hushed tones; and he had always seemed to Maddy to be a very upright and serious-minded young man. She guessed that he did not approve of his mother’s re-marriage. On the other hand, she knew that he still visited his father from time to time. Edward Barraclough was now living in York with his new wife, who had formerly been his mistress, and the young man did not seem to object to that.
Samuel had been about to leave home anyway at the time of his mother’s marriage to William Moon, to start his training at Leeds University. He occasionally visited the family home in Scarborough when his college was on vacation. He spent a good deal of his time, though, in the homes of various friends he had made.
He had scarcely seemed to notice Maddy at first. He had always been polite enough to her and chatted to her on occasions, although Samuel was not what you might call a garrulous person. And he had been oblivious, seemingly, to the amorous thoughts building up inside his stepsister as the years passed and she became more and more aware of him.
Until last Christmas, that was, when he had begun to regard her in a different light. She had been conscious of his eyes on her, when they were dining, for instance, or sitting at leisure in the drawing room. His visit, that time, had lasted rather longer than the three or four days that he usually spared for his family. They had had a party on Boxing Day, to which a few family friends had been invited. After a few grown-up games they had played a form of hide-and-seek, to please the ten-year-old Tommy and Tilly.
Maddy had found Samuel hiding behind the long velvet curtains in the dining room. As soon as he saw her he had pulled her close to him, putting his finger to his lips, warning her not to let on where they were. And then he had put his arms around her, lowered his face to hers and kissed her lovingly and tenderly.
‘I’ve been wanting to do that all week,’ he whispered. ‘Little sister…’ he added teasingly, touching the tip of her nose. ‘But you’re not anymore, are you? You’re a beautiful young woman.’ She had been unable to speak for the pounding of her heart and the feeling of wonderment that was spreading through her. Then he had kissed her again on her half-open lips, more fervently this time, and she had felt herself responding to him in a way she had never dreamt of. When they heard someone entering the room they drew apart. It was Tilly who had found them and she came to hide alongside them. She was unaware, though, of Samuel stroking Maddy’s thigh and then, tentatively, her breasts behind the concealment of the curtain.
There had been little chance after that for them to be alone together. There always seemed to be one or another of the family around. But Maddy knew that their relationship had moved onwards, on to a new footing. He had said, hadn’t he, that she was no longer his little sister? Maddy knew, also, that she had fallen in love with him. When he had contacted her and said that he would meet her after tonight’s performance she had hardly been able to contain her delight. She had played it down to Susannah, pretending that it was just her brother. But Samuel was much, much more than that…
Chapter Two
He was waiting outside the stage door and her heart gave a leap on seeing him there. He was dressed more as a stylish young man about town than as a university student. The students were often to be seen in the streets of Leeds, casually, some of them scruffily, dressed and nearly all with their college scarves slung around their necks. Samuel, however, was wearing a smart three-piece suit of charcoal grey with a faint white pinstripe and he sported a rather showy necktie of red and grey stripes.
‘Hello there, Maddy. Good to see you again.’ He stepped forward to greet her, kissing her chastely on the cheek, then he held out his arm for her to link.
‘Good to see you too, Samuel,’ she said with a casual air. It would not do to let him be conscious of her beating heart. ‘I hope you enjoyed the show?’
‘Yes…I must admit that I did,’ he replied, sounding almost as though he hadn’t expected to enjoy it, she thought. But that was typical of Samuel; he liked everything to be just so and could be very critical. ‘A good variety of acts,’ he conceded, ‘and rather more polished, if I may say so, than the old Pierrot shows. City audiences are much more demanding, of course, and expect good value for their money. Haven’t you found it so?’
‘Possibly,’ Maddy replied, not wanting to disagree with him outright. ‘They’re usually very receptive, though, and seem to enjoy the shows. At least we haven’t had any catcalls or any eggs and rotten tomatoes thrown at us. No; the audiences have been just fine.’
‘That’s good then,’ he said, squeezing her arm and smiling down at her. ‘They couldn’t help but fall for you, could they? You stole the show, Madeleine. That sweet and innocent act would get all the fellows going, and I should know.’
‘It’s not an act, Samuel,’ she retorted. ‘I am sweet and innocent…aren’t I?’ He grinned at her.
‘We’ll see,’ he said darkly. ‘That Susannah now; she went down well with the audience, especially the men. I should imagine she’s rather…naughty, isn’t she?’
‘I wouldn’t say so,’ replied Maddy. ‘That really is part of her act. She’s very nice and friendly and she’s been real kind to me. I believe she’s had quite a few gentlemen admirers, but she’s settling down with Frank now. You know – the one who plays all the musical instruments. I think they’re going to get married.’
‘Oh well, that’s nice for them, isn’t it?’ replied Samuel, sounding not terribly interested. ‘Anyway, never mind them, eh? Here we are, see… This is where we are going to have our supper.’
They had turned off the Headrow onto Briggate, and Samuel had stopped outside a small restaurant which Maddy realised at a glance was select and…expensive! She had never dined in such a place before. Even though her father, and her stepmother, too, might be considered ‘well off’, William Moon did not believe in throwing his hard-earned brass around in fancy restaurants, especially when you could dine in the comfort of your own home with meals prepared by your own excellent cook-housekeeper.
Maddy followed Samuel into the dimly lit interior, her feet sinking into the deep-piled red and gold carpet. The head waiter – at least that was who she guessed him to be – stepped forward to greet them. ‘Good evening, Mr Barraclough. And good evening to you, too…miss. Your table is ready for you.’
All the tables were discreetly illuminated by red candles in glass holders, and the red-shaded wall-lights above each table cast a rosy glow on the snowy-white tablecloths and napkins, the gleaming silver cutlery and the single red rose in a crystal vase. The tables at the side of the restaurant were in separate booths with high-backed settles of dark oak cushioned in red plush.
Maddy slid into the booth and sat down on the cushioned seat with Samuel sitting opposite her. The waiter, bowing a little, handed them each a large menu card filled with what seemed to Maddy to be hundreds of different dishes: hors d’oeuvres, soups, meat and fish dishes, entrées and sweets. ‘Would sir like some wine?’ asked the waiter, a trifle obsequiously, and when Samuel inclined his head in an affirmative nod he produced another large card, with a long list of wines, beers and spirits.
‘Mmm…an impressive wine list,’ observed Samuel in a knowledgeable voice as the waiter left them alone for a little while to make their choice. ‘I will choose the wine, Madeleine, if that is all right with you?’ He smiled at her, a little patronisingly, Maddy thought, and she felt, momentarily, a stab of annoyance.
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied. Samuel knew that only on special occasions had she drunk wine; that was at family parties, notably at the Christmas dinner. At least, that was what he was assuming. For all he knew, though, she might have become an habitual wine drinker since joining the concert party. The fact that she hadn’t – that she hardly ever touched alcohol at all – was immaterial. Samuel was treating her like a child, like his ‘little sister’, and that was something she did not want.
She lowered her head, studying the menu. Some of it was written in French although, fortunately, the English translation was there too. Her eyes wandered up and down as she tried to decide on her choice. She liked roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and steak and kidney pie – and, rather surprisingly, they were both on the menu – but she knew that Samuel would expect her to choose something different, something more sophisticated. When she looked up, after several moments, it was to see Samuel watching her with his eyebrows raised and a quizzical look on his face.
‘Spoilt for choice, aren’t we?’ He grinned at her amiably. ‘Have you decided? Or would you like me to choose for you? I’ve been here before, so I know which are their specialities, you see.’
‘Very well then,’ she agreed as she was truly mesmerised by the array of dishes. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘Let me see…’ Samuel pondered. ‘Their Jerusalem artichoke soup is superb.’
‘Sounds exotic,’ observed Maddy. ‘I don’t know that I’ve ever had artichokes, at least not Jerusalem ones.’
‘Just a fancy name for the soup, but I can assure you that it’s delicious.’
She nodded. ‘Yes…I’ll try that.’
‘And then…’ Samuel frowned a little, running his finger down the menu. ‘How about turbot with shrimp sauce, served with duchess potatoes and a selection of the chef’s vegetables of the day? How does that sound to you?’
‘That sounds…very nice. Turbot – that’s a fish, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He gave an amused smile.
‘Well, I like fish, don’t I?’ said Maddy. ‘I should do, seeing that I come from Scarborough. But I’ve only ever had cod or haddock, or hake occasionally. Yes, I’ll give it a try, the turbot.’
‘It won’t come covered in batter, with chips and mushy peas,’ teased Samuel.
‘Oh dear,’ retorted Maddy. ‘No salt and lashings of vinegar? Or what about tomato sauce?’ She laughed to show him that she was joking. He had used to be such a sobersides, but recently she had noticed that he had a sardonic wit. You needed to be on the alert, though, because he had a tendency to poke fun at people, and not always in a kindly way. ‘Don’t worry, Samuel. I’m not going to show you up by asking for the bottle of HP.’
‘I didn’t think that for a moment,’ he replied seriously. ‘You will enjoy the turbot; it’s a highly prized fish… Ah, here comes the waiter.’ He ordered the same dishes for both of them for the first two courses. ‘We will choose from the dessert menu later,’ he added. ‘And would you bring us a bottle of Riesling, please? A medium-sweet would be best. That might be more palatable for the young lady…’
‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir, very good, sir…’ The waiter bobbed up and down, like a penguin Maddy thought, suppressing a giggle; then he waddled back in the direction of the kitchen.
‘A highly prized fish…’ repeated Maddy. ‘Did you catch any turbot then, when you used to go fishing off Scarborough pier?’
‘Hardly,’ replied Samuel. ‘One would need to be in much deeper waters. Dabs and whiting, that was the extent of my catch. Mmm… It all seems a long time ago now.’
‘Don’t you go fishing anymore then?’
‘Leeds is just about as far from the sea as one can get. Besides, I have very little time for fishing, always supposing that I wanted to do it – which I don’t.’
‘You used to enjoy it, though, when you were in Scarborough for the summer holiday.’
‘So I did…’ replied Samuel thoughtfully. ‘I think I enjoyed the solitude though as much as the fishing; being completely on my own, away from the family. My mother was trying so hard to pretend that everything was normal. But we all knew – at least Jessica and I knew – that our parents were not getting on well together at all. Mother thought that going to Scarborough each summer would ease the situation. She seemed to enjoy the change, and the twins did, of course, and Jessica. But I always felt like a fish out of water.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Yes, a suitable metaphor, isn’t it? I believe I was the only one who missed my father. He used to come and see us occasionally at the weekends, but I knew it was only because he felt he ought to do so… And then we met up with your family, didn’t we? Thanks to you and Jessie and the Pierrot shows.’
He sounded almost as though he regretted the encounter, and Maddy felt annoyed. She knew, of course, that Samuel had not really become a member of their united family in the way that his siblings had done, following the marriage of his mother and her father. He had chosen to remain aloof, but she had hoped that their friendship – hers and Samuel’s – would bring him closer to all of them.
‘You sound as though you didn’t enjoy our times together,’ she remarked. ‘But I seem to remember that you enjoyed the teas that my mother made for us all. And the sandcastle competition; we won that thanks to your ambitious plan. And you and Patrick got on quite well together; he even went fishing with you once or twice. What happened with my father and your mother, that was quite a while afterwards, you know. A long time after…after my mother died. There was nothing improper going on.’
‘Hey, hey, calm down.’ Samuel waved an admonitory hand at her. ‘Come down off your high horse. I wasn’t suggesting that there was any impropriety, of course not. I was really sorry when I heard that your mother had died; she was a lovely lady. And I did enjoy being with the Moon family…some of the time. Especially with you, Maddy.’ He reached out and put his hand over hers, and she felt at one with him as their eyes met and held for several seconds.
‘If there were any improper goings-on,’ he continued, ‘it was my father who was the guilty party. We learnt afterwards that he had had a mistress for several years, and my mother had known about it for quite a while. But he has married her now so it’s all above board. Gwendolen, she’s called. She’s not a bit like my mother. She’s much more – what shall I say? – earthy, and always good for a laugh.’ He chuckled as though he quite approved of that. ‘But not nearly so beautiful…’ he added musingly. ‘My father seems very happy though, and that’s the main thing.’
‘So you visit them quite often?’ asked Maddy, knowing full well that he did.
‘Yes…I suppose I do. I was fond of my mother; I still am, I wouldn’t want you to think otherwise. But she always seemed rather distant; with me at any rate. I was always much closer to my father. That’s why it was such a trauma to me.’
Maddy nodded, unsure as to how to reply. It was the first time he had talked to her of family matters. ‘They are happy, though, my father and your mother,’ she ventured. ‘And the rest of us have all settled down well together.’
‘Yes, yes, I know,’ he replied. ‘Don’t get me wrong; I like your father; he’s a real good sort, is William.’ That was how Samuel always addressed William Moon; not as ‘Uncle Will’ as did Jessie, Tommy and Tilly. But he always showed respect to the patriarch of the family by addressing him as Mr Moon. ‘And your grandfather as well. He’s a real character is Mr Moon.’ To the other children Isaac Moon had very quickly become ‘Grandad’.
‘Anyway, we are not going to fall out about them, are we, you and I?’ He squeezed her hand briefly, then let it go as he saw the waiter returning. ‘Ah, here comes our first course.’
Maddy agreed that the soup was delicious, savouring the subtle yet satisfying taste of the artichokes with celery, onion and a hint of garlic. She enjoyed the firm meaty texture of the turbot, too, attractively served with shrimp sauce and a side dish of butter-glazed carrots, florets of broccoli and minted garden peas.
They conversed very little at first as they concentrated on enjoying their meal. Maddy sipped tentatively at the wine, rolling it gently around her mouth. She found it very palatable; quite sweet but with an underlying richness of green grapes. She took a longer drink and then realised that Samuel was watching her with an amused glint in his eyes.
‘Hey, steady on!’ he laughed. ‘It’s not to be drunk like water. I don’t want to get you tipsy, or else your father would have something to say.’
‘He’s not here, is he?’ retorted Maddy, throwing caution to the winds and taking another gulp of wine. She realised what he had meant, though, when her glass was empty and Samuel, despite his warning, started to pour her some more. She was beginning to feel a bit light-headed. She put her hand over her glass. ‘No more,’ she said. ‘I’ve had what you might call an…an elegant sufficiency.’
It was quite pleasant, though, this feeling of euphoria. It was as though she was in a dream, starting to lose touch with reality. Part of her mind was warning her, however, that it would not do for her to lose control. She managed to get a grip of herself before it was too late, realising that she had imbibed rather too much. She had seen men – and women, too – the worse for drink, and she realised how easy it would be to allow that to happen.
She focused on the food on her plate, taking a good drink of the water that the waiter had poured out at the same time as the wine. She was not aware, at that moment, of Samuel watching her carefully. He, too, knew that she had drunk quite enough to make her mellow. Any more might prove dangerous and he wanted to avoid, at all costs, an inebriated young woman on his hands. The way she was at the moment, though, she might be ready, later, for a spot of fun…
‘How is Patrick?’ he asked casually. ‘You mentioned him earlier. Is he still working for your father’s firm?’
‘Yes, of course. It’s a job for life,’ she replied. Then she laughed, realising how odd that might sound. ‘If you can call undertaking a job for life, but you know what I mean. Actually, it’s still my grandfather’s firm until…well, until such time as it passes to my father.’ But she did not want to think about a time when her beloved grandfather would not be there. ‘It’s still called “Isaac Moon and Son”.’
‘A strange sort of career for a young man,’ Samuel observed. ‘Does Patrick really enjoy it, or is he just doing it because he feels he must?’
‘It’s what he has always done, what he always knew he would do when he left school,’ replied Maddy. ‘He never complains. Besides, it’s an important job and somebody has to do it,’ she added, somewhat indignantly. ‘And our Patrick has the right temperament for it. He never lets it get him down. He’s still as cheerful and carefree as ever.’
‘They didn’t expect you to go into the business, then, when you left school?’ asked Samuel.
‘No; my father knew it would not be what you might call my cup of tea.’ She grinned. ‘I remember how horrified Jessie was when she first found out what my parents did for a living. My mother used to help out as well, you know…with the laying-out; but I’m glad to say that Dad never expected me to do so.’
‘And my mother is not involved either, thank goodness,’ said Samuel.
‘Not in the undertaking side of the business, no,’ said Maddy. ‘But Aunty Faith has taken over as manageress of the gown shop that my father owns. I still call her Aunty Faith,’ she added. ‘Old habits die hard. Perhaps you’ll be going to see them soon, will you?’ she asked cautiously. ‘During your Easter holiday, maybe?’
‘I don’t know; I might,’ he answered, sounding as though he was not very keen on the idea. ‘Now, are you ready for a dessert? They do the most delicious Queen’s Pudding. That’s what I shall have. Shall I order the same for you?’
‘No,’ said Maddy decidedly. ‘I’m going to have Yorkshire curd tart. My mother used to make it and it reminds me of home.’
Samuel nodded but made no comment. After the dessert they drank dark coffee from tiny cups. Maddy thought it had a bitter taste, but it helped to clear some of the wooziness from her head.
‘Ready now?’ asked Samuel when he had paid the bill. ‘Is it to be my place or yours?’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, feeling a gust of refreshingly cool air blow over her as they stepped outside. ‘You’re going to see me home, aren’t you? I mean…back to my digs?’
‘Eventually,’ smiled Samuel. ‘But I thought you might like to come and see where I hang out first. It’s not very far; and of course I’ll see you back safely, later on.’
‘All right then,’ she said, taking his arm again as they walked back along Briggate and the Headrow, and then into Woodhouse Lane.
‘We’ll catch a tram back later,’ Samuel told her, ‘to City Square. You’re not far from there, are you?’
‘No, very near. But I mustn’t be too late getting back. The others might worry, especially Letty and Susannah.’
‘You tell them you’re a big girl now,’ said Samuel, a trifle brusquely. ‘Anyway, the night’s still young.’
As Samuel had said, his lodgings were about ten minutes’ walk away from the city centre, in a large three-storeyed house in a side street, near to the university buildings where he was studying. Maddy’s first impression was that the house, from the outside at least, looked shabby and uncared-for, with peeling paintwork and grimy windows. He had told her as they walked from the restaurant how he and his friend, Mark, had lodged with a middle-aged woman for the first two years of their course. She had provided them with breakfast and an evening meal, which they had greatly appreciated. Obviously neither of them had been used to fending for themselves, thought Maddy. This year, however, for their final year, the two of them had decided to go it alone. They had found that lodging with the motherly, but over-fussy, Mrs Giles had not allowed them as much freedom as they might wish for. They were now sharing a flat with a third young man and, despite having to look after themselves, they were enjoying the independence this gave them.
Samuel opened the door with his key and led her into the dark hallway. She was surprised when he pressed a switch to turn on the electric light. The majority of houses and homes were still lit by gas. They must have a very enterprising landlord, or landlady, despite the shabbiness of the property. They must also, she surmised, be paying a pretty high rent; the other two young men, no doubt, had fathers who were comfortably off, as was Samuel’s father. The naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling was of a low wattage, illuminating only dimly the hallway and stairs. The woodwork was dark brown, the wallpaper an indiscriminate pattern of brown and beige and the carpet was threadbare in parts. A far cry from what Samuel had been accustomed to in his home in York, thought Maddy, or, indeed, in the house in Scarborough which he could now call home…if he wished to do so.
The flat shared by Samuel and his two friends, whom he referred to as Mark and Jeremy, was on the first floor. He opened the door with a second key and, again, switched on the electric light. This time the light bulb, protected by a glass globe, revealed a room that was, to Maddy’s eyes, not at all bad; much better than she had been led to expect from the dingy and dismal exterior; and much better, she guessed, than the lodgings occupied by the vast majority of students. The room was spacious, furnished with a three-piece suite covered in dark brown moquette, enlivened with cushions of a brown, orange and yellow paisley design, which colours were repeated in the – somewhat worn – carpet square and the window curtains. There was a fold-down table and four sturdy dining chairs with leatherette seats, and an old-fashioned Victorian sideboard with a mirror and a carved design of leaves and flowers. The top was covered with books, folders and piles of papers, and more books – appertaining to their respective studies, Maddy surmised – filled two sets of bookshelves.
Samuel strode across the room to draw the curtains. Then, ‘Why don’t you take off your jacket?’ he said, opening another door, which led to the bedroom. Maddy caught a glimpse of a double bed covered with a folkweave counterpane and, a few feet away from it, a smaller bed that looked like a camp bed. She hesitated in the doorway; this was strange territory to her, to be standing on the threshold of a bedroom shared by three young men.
‘Come along,’ said Samuel, smiling at her discomfiture. She felt like a frightened rabbit and no doubt Samuel knew it. ‘Slip your jacket off, or else you won’t feel the benefit of it when you go out again… That’s what my mother always used to say,’ he added with a chuckle.
‘She still does,’ replied Maddy, taking off her jacket and handing it to him; she was wearing a white cotton blouse beneath it. She took off her little hat as well, pinning the hat-pin to it securely. Samuel placed them on the nearest bed and then closed the door again.
‘That is where we sleep,’ he said, ‘obviously. The big bed is much more comfortable than the small one, so we take it in turns to sleep in it, week and week about. And this is the kitchen.’ He opened another door which revealed a small room, not much bigger than a cubbyhole. Maddy could see a gas stove, an earthenware sink and a small glass-fronted cupboard. She guessed that there would not be room to swing the proverbial cat.
‘And down the passage there’s the bathroom, with all the usual requisites. Would you care to use the bathroom now?’ he asked politely.
‘Er…yes, please,’ replied Maddy, a little selfconsciously. What he was really asking was did she want to use the toilet, and that was embarrassing. She felt herself blushing, but the butterflies dancing away in her tummy told her it would be as well to avail herself of the opportunity.
‘First door on the right,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s been left nice and tidy. We share it with the occupants of the other flat, across the landing.’
The lavatory was as large as a throne, the white porcelain decorated with a design of blue flowers, and it had a mahogany seat and lid. The bath, also, was encased in mahogany and looked almost as though one would need a stepladder to climb into it. Maddy held her hands beneath the brass taps of the washbasin, noting that the soap was pink carbolic and the towels were all of a manly striped design.
‘Come along and make yourself at home,’ said Samuel when she re-entered the room. ‘I’ll just nip along to the bathroom and then I’ll be with you in a jiffy.’
Maddy sat down on the settee, then thought better of it and moved across to an armchair. She didn’t want it to look as though she was inviting Samuel to come and sit next to her. In fact, now that she was alone with him she was beginning to feel a little ill at ease. It was the first time she had been completely alone with him, apart from those few moments at Christmas time, and there was something that was puzzling her.
‘Where are your friends?’ she asked when he came back into the room. ‘Mark and…Jeremy, did you say?’
‘They’re not here,’ he grinned. ‘Why? Were you expecting to meet them?’
‘Well… Yes, I suppose so. I mean…I don’t know,’ faltered Maddy. ‘They live here, don’t they? And it’s quite late.’
Samuel laughed. ‘Oh, we respect one another’s privacy. Anytime one of us wants to…to entertain a guest, then the others know to make themselves scarce. I told them I was taking a young lady out for supper, and bringing her back afterwards. I didn’t say that you were my sister. But then…you’re not really, are you?’ He narrowed his eyes, looking at her in a quizzical, sort of teasing, manner. ‘We made up our minds about that, didn’t we?’
Maddy smiled, a little foolishly, not knowing how to reply.
‘Shall I make us some coffee?’ he asked, taking a step towards the kitchen. ‘It’s amazing what I’ve learnt to do since I’ve been looking after myself.’
‘Er…I don’t think so,’ replied Maddy. ‘We’ve just had some, haven’t we? And I don’t usually drink coffee at night in case it keeps me awake.’
‘And that would never do, would it? You need your beauty sleep… Actually, I was hoping you would say no. I don’t want any either.’ He grinned at her, flopping himself down on the settee with his long legs sprawled out in front of him. ‘Now, how about you coming to sit next to me?’
She hesitated, although she was not sure why. ‘I’m…I’m all right here,’ she said. ‘I can see you better from here while we’re talking. And I’m sure you want to know what’s going on at home, don’t you? With Jessie and Tommy and Tilly and…and your mother?’
‘If you want to tell me,’ he replied, ‘and it sounds as though you do, then I’m all ears. But come and sit here, for goodness’ sake Maddy. Why are you going all coy on me?’
She didn’t answer, but feeling a little worried at the sharpness of his tone she did as she was bid. He put his arm casually around her shoulders.
‘That’s better. Now…tell me all the news from Scarborough.’ She told him that his sister, Jessica, was coming to the end of her course at the clerical college and, come the summer, would be seeking a position as a shorthand typist. William Moon, with all his contacts, should be able to help her with that. And Tommy and Tilly seemed happy enough at their private school in the South Bay area. Maddy and Patrick Moon had attended the local board school, as had their parents before them, both leaving at the age of thirteen; but the Barraclough children had been used to private tuition in York, and so had continued with this in Scarborough when their mother had married William.
‘Very good…’ said Samuel, sounding mildly amused at Maddy’s chatter. ‘And how about you? You are enjoying being a – what are you called? – a Melody Maker? I was very proud of you, you know, when I saw you up there on the stage this evening.’
‘Were you really?’ said Maddy, smiling delightedly up at him and feeling his arm drawing her closer. ‘Yes, I’m enjoying it ever so much. I’ve been to all sorts of places I’d never been to before: Manchester and Liverpool and Leeds; and at Easter we’re going to Blackpool!’
‘That sounds really too, too exciting,’ said Samuel. Teasingly, he touched her nose with his fingertip then, holding her by her arms, he lowered his head to hers and their lips met in an exploratory kiss, gentle at first, his lips brushing softly against hers, then more lingeringly as he held her tightly against him. She felt herself responding, her mouth opening beneath his.
He drew away from her for a moment. ‘That’s quite enough talking for the moment… Madeleine,’ he murmured. Then he kissed her again. She felt his teeth hard against her lips, and then, startlingly, his tongue pushing against hers, probing further into her mouth. She pulled back; this was strange to her, but then, as he continued to kiss her, not releasing his hold on her, she felt herself giving way to the ardour of his embrace. This was what she had been waiting for, for so long, she thought, as she felt the warmth and moistness of his lips and tongue, then his hand stroking her hair, her neck and then…her breasts. She gave an involuntary start, pulling away from him a little, but he did not stop nor draw back. His fingers were tugging at the buttons of her blouse, then she became aware of his other hand touching her thigh, fondling the soft skin above the top of her silk stocking. And she felt a tingling, a strange sensation in that region…
But…no! This was wrong. This should not be happening at all. This was not what she had expected or wanted. She struggled to free both her hands then she pushed him away. ‘Samuel…no!’ she cried. ‘We can’t… We mustn’t… It’s not right. I didn’t know. I wanted you to kiss me, that’s all. I don’t understand…’ Her voice petered out as she looked at him in puzzlement and fear.
His eyes were dark and brooding. She could see the disbelief there and the annoyance, verging on anger. ‘Don’t start that silly nonsense with me,’ he began as she straightened her skirt and, fumblingly, tried to fasten the buttons on her blouse.
‘I could tell you were dying for it; so why the play-acting now, eh?’
‘I’m not… I wasn’t…’ she faltered. ‘I don’t know what you mean…’
‘Of course you know what I mean. You’ve been making up to me for months, for years, really. It’s a bit late now to tell me that you don’t want to. You’re nothing but a tease, Madeleine Moon. There’s a name for girls like you… But I won’t offend your delicate little ears by uttering it.’ He was looking at her more dispassionately now, the fury in his eyes abating. But his face was still stern and unsmiling as he said, ‘I really thought you had grown up. And I thought, well…’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I thought with you being a pro – an artiste, if you like – that you would be only too willing, if you know what I mean.’ He sighed. ‘It really is time you knew what was going on in the world around you, Maddy.’
A myriad of thoughts were flashing through her mind as she listened to what he was saying. And she realised that it was true; that she knew very little at all about what went on between a man and a woman when they did what was called ‘making love’. It was still a mystery to her, although she knew it must have a lot to do with kissing, the passionate sort of kissing that Samuel had wanted to do, and the other things: the feeling in her breasts and in that other more intimate part of her. And it was vaguely connected with having monthly periods as well; she knew that.
When her periods had started it had been soon after her father and Faith had got married. She had known a little about it from what some of the other girls at school had said. But it was not something that was supposed to be talked about. Aunty Faith had explained to her what was happening to her body; that she was growing up and it was nature’s way of preparing her for when she got married and had babies. But Aunty Faith was far too ladylike to tell her anything other than that. Now, however, she was beginning to have an inkling as to what might be involved. She remembered something that a very rude boy had once said in the playground, but she and Evie, her best friend at that time, had been too shocked to even think about it or believe it might be true.
‘I’m sorry, Samuel,’ she said now. ‘I didn’t…I don’t understand, honestly I don’t. I wanted you to kiss me because…because I thought you loved me.’
He smiled at that, rather sadly. ‘I’m fond of you, Maddy,’ he replied. ‘Of course I am. I’ve known you ever since you were a little girl. You were my sister’s friend. And I couldn’t help but notice that you liked me,’ he added with a touch of superiority. ‘You weren’t exactly backward in coming forward, as one might say. You made your feelings very clear. That’s why I thought…’
‘I loved you, Samuel,’ she replied, feeling puzzled. ‘I do…love you. And I thought – well, you know, after what you said at Christmas…an’ all that – I thought there was something special between us…’
‘Oh, Maddy, Maddy,’ he cried, shaking his head and giving an exasperated sigh. ‘I’ve told you – I’m fond of you. And I’m sorry if I misread the signs. But let’s forget all this nonsense about love, shall we? Believe me, Madeleine, you will fall in love many many times, or imagine you have done so, before you meet the man who is the one for you. And I know that I am certainly not the one,’ he added, with a brusqueness that caused a stab of anguish right through her. But she managed to control herself.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m a silly fool and I’ve made such a mess of things. You won’t say anything, will you – to Jessie? I haven’t told anybody, not even Jessie about…about what I thought.’
‘Give me credit for a bit of common sense, Madeleine,’ scoffed Samuel. ‘I’m not in the habit of having intimate conversations with my sister, or with any of my family for that matter. I seem to recall, though, that Jessica had a soft spot for your brother at one time, didn’t she? But I’m pleased to say she seems to have got over it.’
‘Patrick…yes,’ agreed Maddy. ‘I think she did rather…like him. But he’s engaged to Katy now and Jessie’s concentrating on her exams and getting a good job.’
‘Good for her,’ said Samuel, although he sounded as though he were not particularly interested. ‘Now, I think it’s time that you should be going home. We don’t want – what is she called…Susannah? – getting worried about you. Come along then. “Put on your ta-ta, little girlie…”’ He laughed as he quoted the music hall song he had heard earlier that evening, helping Maddy to slip on her jacket and watching with a grin on his face as she fastened her saucy little hat on top of her golden curls.
Conversation did not flow easily as they walked to the tram stop, nor on the rattling noisy tramcar as it made its way down Woodhouse Lane and thence on to City Square, where they alighted. Maddy’s lodgings were just off Wellington Street, a couple of minutes’ walk away. It wasn’t until they reached her door that he told her, with an air of nonchalance, that it was more than likely that she would not be seeing him at all in the near future, at least not for a while, and neither would the rest of his family.
‘When I have been awarded my degree this summer,’ he said, with the confidence of one who would never consider the possibility of failure, ‘I am hoping to join an expedition to Peru.’
‘Peru?’ gasped Maddy. ‘You mean… South America?’
‘Of course,’ smiled Samuel. ‘I’m glad your geography is up to scratch. Yes; a silver mining expedition. The sort of thing I have always wanted to do.’
‘Yes, so I remember,’ said Maddy, recalling his interest in fossils and old rocks and such like from the very first time she had met him, which had led him eventually to go on to study for a degree in Geology. ‘Well then, I hope it all works out for you, according to plan.’
