6.

On the evening of her second performance, before the other girls came back to the dressing room after their first two dances, Belle dipped into her bag for her notebook, then drew out the newspaper clippings. When she’d read the news item the first time she’d been intensely curious and, if she was honest, she still was. A year ago, when her father died, she’d had the unenviable task of packing up his extensive library. The brittle and yellowing newspaper cuttings had been well hidden within a dusty book and if they hadn’t slipped out when Belle was finishing packing, she’d never have known. She had tucked them between the back pages of her own little notebook for safekeeping, and there they had remained. As she read the first of the two clippings again now, she shook her head, still finding it hard to believe.

The Rangoon Post 10 January 1911

STOLEN FROM THE GARDEN – THE CASE OF THE VANISHING BABY

It is with great sorrow and regret that this correspondent is tasked with reporting the disappearance of a newborn baby girl. The child, Elvira Hatton, just three weeks old, is the daughter of our esteemed member of the justice department, District Magistrate of the Rangoon area, Mr Douglas Hatton, and his wife, Diana. The baby disappeared yesterday, from her pram resting in the shade of a tamarind tree, in the Hattons’ Rangoon garden in Golden Valley. The police are appealing for witnesses to come forward as a matter of the greatest urgency.

As the other girls entered the room, buzzing with energy, Belle glanced at her watch and slipped the cuttings back inside her bag. With five minutes to spare, she settled on an ivory floor-length dress in rayon crêpe, beaded at the neck and waist, and quickly slipped into it. She checked her reflection and appraised her performance look. It had taken her a while to become accustomed to wearing so much make-up; left to her own devices she wore very little and allowed her hair to hang loosely to her shoulders in its natural wave. Now she finished the look with glossy red lipstick and pinned her hair at the sides with two diamanté clips.

A few moments later she stepped on to the stage tingling with excitement and knowing the knot in her stomach would quickly dissolve once she began to sing, exactly as it had the night before.

The first number was enthusiastically received, although she was disappointed at the size of the audience. But it was only a Thursday evening and afterwards in the bar, Gloria, dressed entirely in black satin with a real ruby at her throat, told her the big crowds only turned up at the weekends. When Belle had seen her in town she had mentioned how her brother, who was something high up in the British administration, would be coming specially to hear Belle sing on Saturday. And now she revealed the exciting news she had only hinted at the other day: her brother had contacts in the entertainment world in America, so if Belle played her cards right … well, anything could happen.

‘Really? Do you know who they are? These contacts?’ Belle, unable to conceal the thrill she felt, wondered what the cards might be.

‘Afraid not. But, darling, you were wonderful. The way the orchestra burst into sound, especially the trumpet, and then your voice. I swear your voice is like honey and the way it swings! Fabulous. Everyone up on their feet. And look at you! Eyes sparkling, skin glowing. You’ve found your passion, I’d say.’

Belle tingled with pleasure but only said she was relieved it had gone so well.

‘All one has to do to get on in this world is believe in oneself and if you can’t do that … well, believe in me.’ Gloria laughed and Belle joined in, but as she did so she spotted Rebecca watching with a spiteful look. Belle gave a quick smile, but the other girl frowned before turning away.

‘What?’ Gloria said, noticing.

Belle pulled a non-committal face. ‘The other girls are being a bit tricky. It’s nothing.’

‘They’ll come around.’

‘They think I only got the job because I know you.’

Gloria arched her brows. ‘Maybe I can sort it out?’

‘Honestly, I’d prefer to deal with it myself.’ Belle hesitated before continuing. ‘Actually,’ she eventually said, having decided it was worth a try, ‘there is something you might be able to help me with.’

Gloria gave her a warm smile. ‘Nothing I like better than helping a friend. Fire away.’

‘The thing is, my parents used to live in Burma. I wondered if you might be able to put me in touch with anyone who might have known them.’

‘You didn’t say before!’

‘No.’

‘And their names?’

‘Well, Hatton, of course, like me.’

Gloria’s eyes narrowed barely a touch. ‘Ah yes. I did wonder if the name might be familiar.’

‘Douglas and Diana, they were.’

Gloria looked taken aback. ‘Then you’ve lived here before too? I didn’t realize.’

‘No. This was before I was born. It was extremely sad, actually.’ She paused, uncertain about continuing, but then went on. ‘They lost a baby.’

Gloria gave her a knowing look. ‘There are so many infectious diseases out here.’

‘No. I mean they lost a baby. Literally. It disappeared from their garden here in Rangoon in 1911.’

‘Good God, how shocking!’

‘So, you hadn’t heard about it?’

Gloria seemed to falter, as if suddenly unsure of herself, then she dipped her head and rummaged in her bag for somewhat longer, it seemed to Belle, than was strictly necessary, eventually extracting her cigarette case and a lighter.

‘We-e-ell,’ she said, drawing out the vowel as she lit a cigarette. ‘I wouldn’t have been here then, but you know it does ring a bell. Must have seen it in the paper. My brother, Edward, would probably remember. You’d better ask him.’ There was a tiny waver as she stopped suddenly and scrutinized Belle’s face. ‘Goodness, is that why you’ve tipped up here?’

‘No. It was purely the job. And what happened was so long ago. Twenty-five years, so I didn’t think there’d be any harm in coming.’

Belle decided not to say more about her parents, but she couldn’t escape the memory of rattling around their enormous house with only her mother and Mrs Wilkes for company. And the times she’d hated her mother with such trembling unstoppable rage it had always ended badly. Had even told her mother she wished she was dead.

‘Penny for them,’ Gloria said.

‘Oh, nothing much. Tell me about you.’

‘One thing you need to know about me is that I never tell the truth. On principle.’

Belle laughed.

‘And my one aim in life is to break all the rules.’

‘I always seem to get caught if I do.’

Gloria, mistress of the dazzling smile and the sardonic raised brow, smirked. ‘Oh, I get caught, darling, all the time. The trick is not to care when you are. Bravado, sweetie, that’s the ticket. I simply do not give a fig.’

Belle laughed again, thinking of the bravado she was in fact already so familiar with.