51

RISING STARS

Tilly Sweetrick

We drove to the Castle Hotel in triumph, only to find all our things had been sent to the station and our rooms assigned to new customers. It was terribly annoying. We decided to eat at the Castle anyway because at least they were used to serving us after midnight. Normally we would have had supper in our rooms, but this time we ate in the dining room and Ruby and I sat either side of Mr Ruse to discuss what lay ahead.

Some of the younger girls put their heads on the table and were asleep before supper arrived. It was nearly two in the morning but I felt fresh as the day. It was the loveliest feeling, to know we were free.

Then the most appalling thing happened. Mr Ruse spotted the Butcher. He was walking up the stairs with Eliza and Lionel, like three beaten curs with their tails between their legs. I don’t know what came over Mr Ruse. He simply couldn’t seem to accept that Lionel and Lizzie were happy to stay with the Butcher. He chased them up the stairs and we could hear him arguing with Lionel, who obviously didn’t want to join us in the dining room.

Then Charlie, who had looked black as thunder all evening, went racing up the stairs too and then Poesy after Charlie. What could I do but run after them?

By the time we reached the second floor, Mr Ruse was dusting his hands, as if he’d just completed a rather dirty job.

‘I’ve locked him in. I’ve locked him in and I’m sending for the police. He’s a moral outrage and the girl and boy should be taken from him by force.’

‘Eliza is eighteen years old, Mr Ruse. I don’t think the police can take her against her will.’

‘But they can take the boy,’ said Mr Ruse, looking a little hurt that I wasn’t pleased.

Charlie was standing by the door with his ear pressed against it, listening to Lionel who was shouting through the keyhole. Then he turned to us and his mouth trembled.

‘Old Man Percy, he’s got a gun. He’s got a gun and he says he’s going to use it on someone if we don’t all come back to him.’

Mr Ruse was so shocked that he stumbled backwards and then fled down the stairs, calling to the hotel staff for aid.

I felt strangely calm, despite everything. When Lizzie came bursting into the hall from another doorway, I didn’t feel the least surprised.

She stopped, suddenly embarrassed at the sight of us all, standing like characters in a melodrama. She didn’t speak to me. I might as well have been invisible. It was Poesy and Charlie she directed her sad little speech towards.

‘I came through the connecting bathroom. He doesn’t know I’m gone. You must get the door open. You simply must get the door open and tell him you’ll come back to him.’

It was Charlie who solved it all too quickly. Charlie and his sneaky magic. He pulled a little pocketknife from his jacket, fiddled with the lock, and in a moment he had the door open.

‘Come away, Poesy, Charlie. Come away from there this instant,’ I said crossly.

I backed down the stairs, ready to run the minute the Butcher came into view. But when the door opened there was only Lionel there, his face drawn, and in the background, we could see a figure hunched in a chair, sobbing. I could hardly believe it was the Butcher. He was crying like a baby.

‘It’s all right now, Lizzie,’ said Lionel. ‘I’ve hidden the pistol. He won’t harm himself.’

He stared at Charlie as if he was a stranger. ‘Go on, you lot, bugger off. Why are you standing around gawking? It’s not a sideshow. You’re not wanted here.’

Poesy cried all the way to Mr St John’s house.

‘Do stop, Poesy,’ I said, trying to contain my irritation. Mr St John was looking distinctly embarrassed. We all knew Poesy was his favourite. Most of the children had been taken away from the Castle Hotel because of the trouble with the Butcher, and Mr St John had been happy to have a group of us as long as Poesy was included. We could have stayed at the hotel, because the Butcher, his lackey and his lover had been thrown out into the street by the manager, but Mr Ruse was determined to send the girls away.

‘I can’t stop thinking about Lionel and Eliza,’ Poesy sobbed. I knew she had almost added ‘and Mr Arthur’ because, I swear, that girl was part chameleon. She could change her colours more times in an evening than there were hours in a day.

‘Don’t you worry about them,’ I said. ‘They’ll probably spend the night at the train station, sleeping in a carriage. Or take it all the way to Tuticorin. And we shouldn’t mind. What they do from now on is their business. Our business is to earn our fares home.’

Mr St John’s bungalow wasn’t quite as luxurious as I’d hoped and we were all put in one room together, but in the end it didn’t matter. I didn’t sleep all night. I felt strange and new-made and as if all the world was mine.

We were back at the Castle Hotel within a day and I was rather pleased to have the run of the place again. Ruby and I had a room to ourselves and we organised all the younger girls into new groups while Max and Freddie took charge of the boys.

The papers were full of the story of our strike. All of a sudden, people from all over Madras turned up at the hotel wanting to meet us and hear our story, people who hadn’t even bothered to come to our performances. Which was lucky, because we needed to do a whole new season of shows to earn enough for our fares home.

I wanted to secure the Lyric Theatre on the corner of Ellis Road, but when Mr Giacomo d’Angeli, a darling Corsican, announced himself at the Castle, we were glad of his offer of a venue. We were dependent on the kindness of strangers.

Two days later our very first show was held on the Parisian rooftop garden of Mr d’Angeli’s hotel. The terrace glowed with electric light and he had to turn people away at the door, the publicity had been so extravagant.

Before the show began, Ruby and I stood at the parapet, our arms around each other’s waists. The city stretched beneath us, with its wide boulevards and grand old houses, the crowded bazaars and in the distance the shimmering sea. Though the day had been unbearable in its heat, the evening was as warm as a sweet embrace. Ruby turned to me and kissed my cheek.

‘You have saved us all, Tilly. You have saved me especially and I will never, ever forget.’

We watched the evening star rise up from the sea and waited for our audience.