Chapter Eighteen

Early August found the hotel filled once more with Alice’s daily commands, if not to her husband, then Clive, who spent most of his time gripping a cigar between his teeth and sweating profusely. He was rotund and could move nowhere at speed. Frequently Emma found herself squeezing past his bulk in one of the hotel corridors. He would nod a greeting, having come to recognise her.

Alice breezed in and out at unpredictable times of day, waving scripts in Clive’s face and very often insisting he accompany her upstairs at that very moment to go through important scenes. Aoife ran around tending to Alice’s every whim, and there were many. Not enough lemon slices for her tea, the bedroom window needing to be opened more frequently as the stale air was damaging her vocal cords.

She had recently returned from the Royal event, but the experience had not softened her. She continued to treat everyone with as much disdain as she could muster. One morning just before lunch, Emma was returning from the printers and, as she neared the bandstand, saw Alice coming towards her on the path.

‘So, you’re still here then,’ Alice said, Clive in tow.

‘I am, and I’m having a wonderful time, thank you for asking.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘I know.’ Emma risked a smile before regretting her quip. ‘How was the King?’

‘Oh my goodness, what a treat that was!’ Animosity averted, Alice basked in the memory. ‘He asked us how long we’d been acting as a cast. Not all the members were able to be there – but those who were gave him a shortened version of one of our favourite scenes.’

‘So he likes plays?’

‘He loves them! And he’s such a sweetie. He winked at me, didn’t he, Clive? He said afterwards I was the best Cleopatra he’d ever seen.’

‘Congratulations.’ Emma found she meant it. ‘Not everyone can say they’ve met the King.’

They returned to the hotel together but sat at separate tables in the dining room. Emma smelt the tantalising scents of fresh baking coming from the kitchens.

Thomas brought in a tray of refreshments for a couple who were waiting to board a ship to Canada the next morning. Emma watched him exchange a few pleasantries before turning to Alice. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘I really don’t know.’ She blew cigarette smoke into Clive’s face and asked him, ‘Did you not say earlier you’d be taking me to Cork this evening to dine with that new orchestra maestro?’

Clive took his half-moon glasses from his red nose and spent a moment wiping them. ‘Did I?’

The look Alice gave him was not lost on Emma.

Clive pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and met Alice’s stare. ‘Oh yes, so I did.’

Alice turned to Thomas. ‘I have another arrangement so won’t eat now and ruin my appetite.’

Thomas turned and offered Emma the potato and leek soup which Chef had made that morning.

‘Sounds perfect, I’d love some.’

A few minutes later Alice and Clive left the room, and met Aoife in the doorway.

Aoife stepped back. ‘Sorry, after you.’

‘Are these yours?’ Alice talked quietly as she picked up one of the rolls from the plate in Aoife’s hand.

‘Yes.’

Alice took a bite. ‘They’re good, Aoife. You have many talents. I’ve left you another list on my bedside table. Be sure to retrieve it soon.’

Aoife blushed and nodded, then put the bowl of soup down in front of Emma. ‘There were two rolls, sorry, I’ll just get you another.’

Emma smiled and touched Aoife’s hand. ‘Please don’t, one will be fine. The soup will fill me. It all smells gorgeous.’

‘I’ve been practising making bread for weeks now, with help from Chef. Thomas said I could, as long as he got to eat them too.’ Aoife grinned and looked out the window at Alice and Clive walking away across the road. Emma wondered if Aoife was scared of Alice, or simply desperate to please. ‘I’ve always dreamed of running a bakery of my own, but that obviously won’t happen.’

‘Why won’t it?’ Emma tore the roll apart and released steam from the still-hot dough.

‘I can’t see the likes of me being able to rent a shop. I’d be happy just to do the baking part.’

‘You are more than capable. I’ll help you put a plan together.’

‘Oh, Miss Emma, I couldn’t expect that of you.’

‘Say no more.’ Emma put up her hand. ‘It’ll be a pleasure. It’s a way I can thank you for the help I know you’re going to be at our first committee meeting.’

‘Are we having one?’

‘Indeed we are. Mrs Walsh has given the go-ahead. I’ve some papers to sign in Cork but Queenstown will officially have a branch of the IWSS, that’s the Irish Women’s Suffrage Society.’

 

When at last the clock ticked its way past ten and the remaining guests had filtered back to their rooms, Emma found Thomas in his office. She leant against the edge of the door, watched him filing papers.

‘How was Dublin?’

‘It’s a beautiful city,’ he said. ‘I didn’t get to meet the King – only Alice and her company were allowed audience with him. The performance was good, though. There’s no denying it: the company has some fine actors.’

‘You must have been proud.’

‘I don’t think I felt anything, other than perhaps injustice.’

‘Injustice?’

‘From a distance, I saw the King and Mary in their finery, their bodyguards waiting outside the theatre. Carriages, horses and uniformed soldiers parading; days of ceremonies. Yet not two streets away from the theatre was a group of beggars, some no older than ten. They’ve been wasting away in this heatwave, discouraged from gaining access down to the river to cool off because the authorities were worried their presence would put be off-putting for tourists arriving to see the King.’

‘Oh, that’s awful.’

Thomas poured them each a drop of brandy from a hip flask. ‘Just a small one. It’s been a long week and I could do with it, and you’re celebrating.’

She laughed and took the tiny glass he held out to her.

‘I gave some of the youngest a shilling or two. It’s the government who should do more.’

Emma sipped the brandy and let it warm her. ‘Alice must have hated those backstreets.’

‘She wasn’t with me.’ Thomas downed the liquor in one and poured another. ‘The company all ate together. I wasn’t invited.’

‘Oh,’ she said again.

‘I wasn’t bothered.’ He sighed and flexed his fingers. ‘I just wanted to come home if I’m being honest.’

She looked at him over the rim of the glass and found him looking at her with an intensity she’d not seen before.