Of course the fact that Margaret had been kidnapped could not be kept secret. Mrs Wallow told the neighbours and the neighbours told their neighbours. In the kitchen of the private part of The Dolphin the news soon reached the staff, and Annie slipped out to tell her boy friend, and Hilton told the innkeeper when he had his midday glass of porter. But, though she did not realize she had done it, the one who really spread the news was Sarah.
The moment the fog lifted, Sarah went as fast as her legs would carry her to Lou in the wardrobe of the London Hippodrome. Lou turned quite grey when she heard the news for she was more aware than most of the wicked things that went on in London’s back streets. She looked so pale that Sarah thought she was going to faint and called out for help. At once all the wardrobe staff gathered round with every imaginable remedy for faints and shock and they, of course, heard what had happened and, once Lou was better, could not wait to slip out into the street to spread the news.
Bill Todd had been told that Margaret was missing and that it was to be kept a secret for the present. ‘That for a tale,’ he had said to himself. ‘Someone will talk and then we’ll have all the newspapers here.’ To prepare for the invasion he fastened a chain on the stage door. This meant he could see if anybody who belonged wanted to come in, but he could also keep out those who had no right of entry. When the Press did arrive he was thankful for his chain. Describing the scene later he said it was like an election night. ‘Seemed as if there were hundreds all shouting outside my stage door.’ Of course the Press paid no attention to chains. There were other ways into the theatre and they found them all, and soon Tommy Smith’s office was crowded with men clamouring for information.
Because, in Tommy’s opinion, honesty was the best policy, he told the newspaper men the truth. How Margaret had been kidnapped in a growler. How it was believed she had been taken to an orphanage where she had once lived. How she had begun her life in a basket with three of everything though all of the very best quality. How she had called herself Thursday because that was the day when she was found.
It was a wonderful story and the newspaper men were delighted and rushed off to get their versions of it into the midday papers. Some of them lingered, hoping to get a statement from Sir John, but Tommy refused.
‘He is upset enough as it is,’ he said, ‘and I have told you the whole truth as I know it. We must now leave matters to the police.’
There were other who did not agree with Tommy Smith, and Lou was one of them. In spite of her great size she got about and had often said: ‘London may be a big place but, like any other town, it ’as its ways. Bad things goes on, no saying they don’t, but that doesn’t say there is not sharp eyes about to notice the peculiar. If I know young Margaret – and I reckon I do – she wasn’t taken nowhere not without creatin’ she wasn’t.’
Even Lou, who knew London well, could not know more than a limited number of people, but that number knew a number more and so, like a river swollen by storms, the people enquiring for Margaret grew. By midday information was coming in. Most of it was irrelevant but there was a small thread of news here and there to be looked into. One came from a disreputable lane.
‘My sister ’as a friend who ’as a friend who says Ma Mud ’ad a new kiddie taken there this morning.’
Lou put this piece of news to the back of her mind. The dreadful old Ma Mud was a well-known figure in the market and that she dealt in orphans was common knowledge. That the information had anything to do with Margaret was unlikely.
The late afternoon papers carried a more important piece of information. Reporters had visited Lord and Lady Corkberry at Sedgecombe Place to learn in which orphanage Margaret had lived. They discovered that the moment Lady Corkberry had found out the terrible conditions in the orphanage the Matron had been dismissed and never heard of since. The news stands carried banner headlines, ‘Where is Matron?’ and the newsboys screeched the question up and down the streets.
This entirely changed the picture. Before, it had been supposed that Margaret had been taken out of London, now it was likely she was still there. The police used on the case were doubled. Lou strained her ears for more gossip.
Up in Katie’s rooms Liza tried to do what Miss Grey had told her. She had eaten her lunch, then been tucked up on Miss Grey’s bed to sleep, but it was hopeless. She had never been so nervous in her life. She knew she knew the part, but would she be able to talk like a lady for three Acts? Oh, why was she lying on Miss Grey’s bed looking at a book she did not want to read, when the place for her was out in the streets searching for news of Margaret? Suddenly it was all too much for her, she rolled over on to her face and broke into loud, hiccupping sobs.
Only Miss Grey heard Liza crying, for Katie was in the kitchen with Mrs Melly having a cookery lesson, and at once Liza was in Miss Grey’s arms.
‘Don’t cry, pet. Margaret will be found, I’m sure of it.’
‘It’s not only Margaret,’ Liza gasped, ‘it’s me as Anastasia. I pretend I’ll be all right but I know I won’t talk refined all night.’
‘Oh yes, you will,’ Miss Grey promised. ‘You know you can do it, you’ve done it at rehearsals.’
‘Yes, but it’s both things. I never talked refined with Margaret stolen. I want to go out and help look for her.’
Miss Grey stroked Liza’s hair.
‘Try not to worry. Katie and I will come and sit in your dressing room, and after the play Sarah is going to sit with Katie while I walk home with you. Now, get up and wash your face and then you can go down to the kitchen and see what Katie has made for our tea.’
Lying on the floor tied to the mangle, it seemed to Margaret after her bold declaration to the rats that the rustlings and scufflings ceased. This made her more scared. Perhaps rats were gathering in force to bite her and she could do nothing to protect herself. Anyway how could she fight rats? Liza had told her that London sewer rats were as big as dogs.
Then suddenly a hand was placed on hers, a small child’s hand, then she could hear a dragging sound; slowly, inch by inch, a child crawled into view. It was Simon.
‘Simon!’ Margaret gasped. ‘How glad I am to see you! Untie me quickly so I can get away.’
Simon’s voice was almost a whisper. ‘I can’t. She gave me a beating just to teach me what I’d get if she caught me talking to you.’
Margaret tried not to sound impatient. ‘But if I escape you can too. I’ll look after you.’
‘If she was to find you gone she’d know who’d done it, and if I was to have another beating like the last, I’d die. She wouldn’t care.’
‘Can you get to the theatre tonight?’
‘I don’t know,’ Simon explained. ‘She beat me so cruel hard I can’t stand up.’
Margaret heard a sound. ‘Hush! I think she’s coming up the steps.’
Simon began to crawl away. ‘I’m under the stairs,’ he whispered. ‘That’s where she throwed me when she’d done beating me.’
Margaret could hear Matron fumbling to put the key in the lock. She looked round to see that Simon had not disturbed the dirt on the floor. Then she settled back in the exact position in which Matron had left her. Simon’s visit had cheered her immensely. ‘Somehow,’ she told herself, ‘he’s got to get to the theatre. He simply must.’