‘Five encores and two standing ovations. I’ve never seen anything like it in Wales. The savages have finally learned to appreciate true artistry.’ The actress who was playing Peter Pan pulled off her cap and shook her hair free after the final curtain had fallen.
‘Darling, they were applauding the star, not the child dangling on the wire,’ Jeremy Dupois, who was playing the dual role of Mr Darling and Captain Hook, drawled nonchalantly.
‘And who was that?’ the middle-aged actress who had slapped four coats of greasepaint on to her face so she could play the youthful Wendy demanded.
Jeremy adopted a lecturing tone as if he were the professor and she the idiot child. ‘There’s only ever one star in any production, darling, and it’s never the ageing junior lead on the slide down.’
‘Peter Pan is an ensemble effort,’ ‘Wendy’ stressed.
‘The hell it is,’ ‘Peter’ snapped. ‘The play is Peter Pan. And I’m Peter.’
‘I couldn’t agree with you more, darling, there’s no such thing as an ensemble.’ Jeremy smiled sweetly at ‘Peter’. ‘The audience came to see the name above the title on the posters, not the immature nobody pretending to be a puppet on strings. And in case you haven’t looked, there’s only one name above Peter Pan on the door, and that’s Jeremy Dupois.’
‘If you’re the star, Jeremy darling, go and twinkle, preferably elsewhere,’ Lennie Lane the roly-poly actor playing Smee bit back smartly.
‘Quick with the repartee, aren’t you, Lennie? It’s a pity you haven’t the talent to back up the stroke of miscasting that landed you a supporting role,’ Jeremy sniped.
‘Make the most of your twinkling, Jeremy, it’s waning like a dying Tinkerbell, only in your case Props won’t be able to switch you back on,’ Lennie retorted.
‘Bitchiness won’t bring your career back, Lennie, not that you ever had much of one outside of your imagination. And if anyone should be looking at Tinkerbell it should be you, because that’s where you’ll be in a year or two: manipulating little bells and balls of lights in Props. That’s if you manage to stay off the pies and beer and can get in the props box. It would be a tight squeeze now.’ Jeremy tossed his head in the air and stalked off as regally as his close fitting Mr Darling costume allowed him to.
‘Better a Props than a washed-up old ham,’ Lennie called after him. He made a few remarkably realistic pig snorts, followed by even more realistic squealing.
Judy watched and listened in amazement. Lennie Lane had been a leading West End romantic lead before his weight had ballooned to Fatty Arbuckle proportions. He’d also been kind to her in rehearsals. As a result, the venom in his voice took her breath away. She’d seen the odd outburst of spitefulness in auditions, and even come across rivalry that had bordered on acrimonious when the Bute Street Blues Band had played the same event as other bands, like the carnival, but she had never witnessed such open and vitriolic hostility between performers before.
‘My pets, my darlings, please.’ Hands fluttering, the director walked out from the wings as the fire curtain came down. ‘No squabbling and no upsetting Jeremy, I won’t allow it. Carry on and I won’t take you out for that celebratory dinner I’ve booked in the Windsor Hotel.’
‘Dinner?’ It was the first Judy had heard of it.
The director turned scarlet. ‘Sorry, pet, principals only. Management can’t run to treating everyone.’
‘The chorus are going.’ Lennie crossed his podgy arms across his chest and eyed the director defiantly.
‘Principal players only,’ the director repeated. ‘Must dash, impresario and backers are waiting to be entertained.’
‘Sorry, Judy. I tried, even if I didn’t get anywhere,’ Lennie apologised.
‘We were all angry when we saw the way your family were treated,’ Mandy, the head chorus girl, commiserated. Too many performers had watched Judy’s relatives being escorted through the backstage corridors to their boxes for management to keep it quiet.
‘You’re the best performer I’ve seen on stage here for a long time, Miss King,’ the orchestra leader complimented her when he joined them from the pit.
‘Thank you,’ Judy said sincerely. ‘I’ve certainly had a night I’ll never forget.’
‘Hurry up, my pets, you have to change quickly, the table’s booked for half past ten, if we’re one minute late they won’t serve us.’ The director returned and drew Judy aside. ‘You do understand why we couldn’t invite you, don’t you, darling?’
Judy noticed that he’d waited until most of her fellow performers had returned to their dressing rooms before waylaying her. Deciding that important as her career was, she couldn’t allow the slight to her family to pass unnoticed, she said, ‘After seeing the way you pulled the curtains halfway around the boxes I reserved for my guests so they couldn’t be seen from most of the auditorium, yes, I understand perfectly well.’
‘Judy, come quickly.’ Mandy beckoned her forward.
‘You’ve never seen anything like our dressing room.’
‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss King.’ Glad of an opportunity to escape, the director dashed off.
Judy walked down the corridor to the large dressing room she was sharing with the chorus girls. The door was open, and every flat surface was covered with huge baskets and enormous vases of red and gold roses.
‘Some girls are popular,’ Judy smiled.
‘Some girls, huh,’ one of the older chorus girls sniped. ‘They’re all for you.’
‘They can’t be.’
Stunned, Judy looked from one display to another. She knew her uncles couldn’t possibly have afforded to buy such expensive bouquets and she’d pretended she hadn’t seen the small basket of violets Edyth had hidden in the stockroom of the shop.
‘The florist said they’re all from the same man. He spent an absolute fortune. Here’s the card.’ Mandy handed it to her.
Judy opened the small envelope and read the name at the bottom of the card. ‘There must be a mistake. I don’t know an Aled James.’
‘He obviously knows you.’ Mandy sniffed the nearest rose. ‘Scented too, and they smell heavenly.’
‘Perhaps he’s seen you coming in and out of the theatre and admired you from afar,’ one of the younger girls said, sighing romantically.
Judy read the message.
Congratulations on a magnificent debut performance. I would be delighted if you, your family and friends would be my dinner guests at the Windsor Hotel this evening. I have a professional proposition I wish to put to you and your guardians.
Aled James
Mandy looked over Judy’s shoulder and read the card. “‘A professional proposition.” And he’s invited your uncles, so he can’t be thinking of selling you into slavery. I’m not surprised. After the performance you gave tonight, you deserve to be picked up by a director or producer or at the very least a talent spotter. Ooh!’ she gasped. ‘Perhaps he’s from Binky Beaumont.’
‘Or Mr Charles Cochrane,’ one of the others said excitedly.
‘I bet it’s radio.’ The youngest chorus girl had aspirations to be heard all over the country. ‘Your voice is incredible, the rest of us sound like squawking crows in comparison.’
‘Or Hollywood …’
‘You’ll sail across the Atlantic on the Queen Mary and make films with Gary Cooper …’
‘He may buy you out of your contract here …’
‘It’s more likely to be all-singing, all-dancing talkies with Al Jolson than Westerns with Gary Cooper …’
‘If he’s a scout for Binky Beaumont it will be the West End. A musical like That’s a Good Girl with Noel Coward …’
‘Or you’ll be a Rockette in New York’s Radio City …’
Judy’s head began to spin as much from the noise the girls were making as the ideas they were floating. She struggled out of her tight white leather Tiger Lily outfit, removed the beaded band from around her forehead and ran her fingers through her hair. As all the chairs were taken, she crouched behind one of the girls, peered into the mirror, opened her pot of cold cream, slapped it on her face and wiped off her stage make-up with a couple of balls of cotton wool.
When she’d finished cleaning her face and hands with the cream, she slipped on the plain black satin evening dress and peep-toe sandals she’d packed for the family party her aunts had organised in her Uncle Jed’s terraced house. A dab of powder to tone down the shine on her nose, a spot of lipstick on her mouth, a quick comb through to smooth her shingled hair back in place and she was ready.
‘You’re very plain for the Windsor,’ Mandy said critically.
‘I’m not sure I’m going. It’s up to Uncle Jed whether we accept the invitation or not,’ Judy replied cautiously.
‘Your dress is fine, but it needs jazzing up. Here.’ Mandy opened Judy’s hand and pressed something into it.
Judy stared down at a pair of sapphire and gold earrings and a sapphire and gold pendant. ‘I can’t possibly wear these.’
‘Yes, you can, give them back to me tomorrow.’ Mandy lowered her voice. ‘First rule I learned backstage is never, never, look poverty-stricken. Present a high-class image and you’ll get whatever you ask for, especially from impresarios – and aristocrats.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘My older sister not only snared but married a real live lord. And not a poverty-stricken one either. He has a castle in Scotland, a flat in London, and a yacht in the South of France.’
‘Honest?’ the chorus girls gasped.
‘Where do you think I got jewels like these? She gave them to me at Christmas. But we have to call her “your ladyship” whenever she deigns to call on us in our terraced back-to-back in Cwmtwrch. Mind you,’ Mandy’s mouth twitched suspiciously, and Judy wasn’t sure whether she was being serious or not, ‘her husband is seventy-two to her twenty-four. Here, let me fasten these for you.’ She slipped the chain around Judy’s neck and hooked the safety catch while Judy pushed the earrings into her ears. ‘You need scent. Try this, it’s called “White Linen.”’ She sprinkled it liberally over Judy’s neck, hair and ears.
‘Why are you being so kind?’ Judy asked.
‘Because your family had a rotten deal from management tonight. And because I was just like you when I was your age. Full of hopes and dreams. I only got this job on sufferance. I know, and management knows, I’m too old for this lark. Next show I’ll be doing, I’ll be backstage looking after the costumes.’
‘You’re a fantastic dancer …’
‘And people’s memories of me will be kinder if I hang up my tap and ballet shoes now.’ Mandy opened the door, pushed Judy out and whispered, ‘Good luck.’
‘Thank you.’ Judy turned and barged into the show’s producer. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Peterson …’
‘Never mind that,’ he winced and rubbed his ankle where Judy had kicked him. ‘I’ve been talking to the director. There’s been a mistake. Of course you’re invited to the cast dinner at the Windsor.’
‘I’m afraid Miss King is otherwise engaged, Stan.’ Aled strode down the corridor, flanked by Aiden and Freddie. ‘Your uncles and friends have accepted my invitation. Regrettably one of your aunts won’t be joining us, because she is taking your cousins home.’
‘Judy, you have to take at least one bunch with you.’ Mandy reappeared with the largest bouquet from the dressing room and handed it to her.
‘I knew the colours would suit you.’ Aled offered Judy his arm. ‘If you’ll allow me to escort you to the stage door, Miss King, you can join your party. I am going on ahead to the Windsor to finalise a few details. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Stan.’
‘You’re welcome to join us as well, Aled,’ Stan offered.
‘I’ve made other arrangements.’ Aled winked at Stan, tipped his hat to the gawping girls and walked Judy down the corridor before she had time to do more than shout a hurried, ‘Goodnight’.
The Windsor Hotel was within half a mile of the house where Judy had been born, but as far as she and her family were concerned it may as well have been on a different continent. It represented another world to the one they inhabited. If work had been plentiful in Tiger Bay, Judy might have aspired to scrub the floors, sweep the stairs, dust the rooms and change the beds within the Windsor’s mock-Georgian façade. But she had never dreamed that she’d ever be invited to dine within its cream and gold dining room.
That she knew what went on inside the Windsor was down to her uncles’ friendship with the waiters and chambermaids who worked there. From their stories, she had pictured the hotel as a haven of gilded opulence where people with more money than she could imagine lived, and lived well, on mythical foods like lobster, prawns, champagne and smoked salmon. Whenever the off-duty staff mentioned the Windsor, or the wealthy, famous, and celebrated clientele they served, it was always in hushed, reverential tones, as if the patrons were as infinitely above and beyond the residents who lived in the backstreets as angels from cockroaches.
Jed helped Judy and the rest of the women from the charabanc but when they approached the entrance, he, Ron, Tony, Judy’s two aunts, and Moody hung back diffidently, unlike Edyth, Helga, and Micah, who forged confidently ahead.
The breath caught in Judy’s throat when she walked through the doors the porters held open for them. She looked around and instantly felt that the hotel had been designed and furnished to make interlopers – she regarded herself as one ̶ feel inferior.
The carpets were so thick the heels of their shoes sank into them. The attendants who took their coats and spirited them away did so silently, yet managed to convey disapproval at the quality. The walls were clad in marble and studded with mirrors that glittered with the reflected lights of shimmering chandeliers. Amongst so much luxury their images seemed to flit across the glass as fleeting and transient as ghosts.
They were shown into a dining room that on first glance appeared to stretch into infinity. When Judy looked again, she realised that its walls were also mirrored and reflected table upon table set with starched damask linen, gleaming silverware and crystal that sparkled like diamonds. Even the napkins, folded into ‘slippers’, reminded her of the lessons her grandmother had given her on setting a table for the crache. The young Pearl King had acquired the skill half a century before, while working her way up from kitchen to parlour maid in a grand house in Loudoun Square.
Only Micah, Helga, and Edyth appeared to be at ease. But Judy recalled that Edyth’s father was an MP, albeit a socialist one, and Micah and Helga’s father had been a pastor. And as Micah had followed his father into the profession, they were used to moving in ‘class’ company.
Aled James was waiting for them beside a circular table in prime position in the centre of the room. He was talking to the head waiter who was listening, head bowed and attentive, to his every word. The table had been laid for eleven and a dozen ice buckets were set on stands around the perimeter; half contained bottles of champagne and half mineral water. In the centre was a magnificent floral arrangement of gold and red rosebuds so similar to the one the cloakroom attendant had taken from Judy, it was obvious it had come from the same florists.
Judy suddenly realised that Aled James’s invitation hadn’t been made on the spur of the moment. The flowers on the table and in the theatre, the booking in the hotel restaurant, the champagne – all suggested that this dinner had been planned for hours, possibly even days.
Aled smiled at her. ‘Thank you so much for accepting my invitation, Miss King. I am grateful.’
She nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
The head waiter clicked his fingers and a platoon of subordinates moved in, smartly and silently pulling out chairs, shaking napkins and placing them on the guests’ laps as soon as they were seated. A sheaf of leather menu holders appeared at the place settings.
‘Champagne while my guests make their choices.’ Aled watched two of Judy’s uncles station themselves protectively either side of her. He didn’t attempt to sit close to her. Instead he took the vacant chair on Edyth’s left after Micah had taken the one on Edyth’s right. As soon as he was seated, Aled raised the glass the wine waiter had filled for him. ‘Ladies,’ he nodded to Judy, her aunts, Helga and Edyth, ‘and gentlemen, the very good health of the new star we saw born on the stage of the New Theatre this evening.’
Edyth drank the toast, and gave Judy, who looked distinctly uncomfortable, a reassuring smile before opening the menu. She was used to the prices in the Park Hotel and New Inn in Pontypridd, neither of which was cheap, but this menu had no prices at all, which she found disconcerting. And, despite Aled James’s close physical resemblance to Harry, and his polite, mannered, almost too correct behaviour, she found him disturbing.
If anyone had asked her exactly why Aled James made her feel edgy she couldn’t have given any sounder reason other than his American accent didn’t ring true, his smile didn’t thaw the ice in his eyes, and his manners were too polished for sincerity.
Aled saw her staring at him and broadened his smile. Edyth immediately resumed her study of the menu.
‘May I recommend the caviar, lobster mousse or smoked salmon for starters, the fillets of beef or chicken a la king – very appropriate, don’t you think – for the I, and the dessert trolley to finish. The chef’s creations in that department have to be seen to be believed.’ Aled hadn’t opened his menu, a fact that wasn’t lost on Edyth. ‘I’ve heard that you are reopening the old Sea Breeze as a nightclub, Mr James,’ Micah commented.
Edyth had heard Micah asking around the bar for information about Aled James during the intermission. He had also met Harry, and although they hadn’t had time to discuss Aled James’s likeness to her brother, Edyth knew the similarity between them hadn’t been lost on Micah.
‘I am, Pastor –’
‘Micah, please! No one except the children call me Pastor outside of the mission,’ Micah interrupted.
‘My interest in the Sea Breeze is the primary reason I’ve invited you here.’ Aled turned to the head waiter who was hovering behind his chair. ‘Max, take our order so we can begin discussing business.’
Edyth and Helga chose the smoked salmon and chicken, Judy and her aunts shyly followed suit, and when Micah ordered the caviar and the beef, Judy’s uncles and Moody repeated his order. Aled settled for the lobster mousse and beef.
‘As you said, Micah,’ Aled signalled to the wine waiter to replenish their water and champagne glasses, ‘I am opening the old Sea Breeze as a nightclub and I am looking for a resident singer. I was hoping that Miss King would consider the position.’
‘Me, a nightclub singer?’ Judy looked at him in astonishment.
‘My offer isn’t based on your performance this evening, Miss King, although, I haven’t seen such a display of talent since I left America. In fact, come to think of it, I didn’t see anyone who could bear comparison to you there. I heard you sing at the carnival on the day I arrived back in this country and when I asked around the Bay, everyone who had seen the Bute Street Blues Band spoke highly of you.’
‘But I sing with the band –ʼ
‘The band is hardly up to your standard, Judy. The people around here hire us for local events but it’s principally so they can listen to you. You’re the only one of us who is talented enough to be classed as a professional, and it’s my guess that it’s a professional Mr James wants to hire.’ Micah realised that Aled James was offering Judy an opportunity that could give her the break into show business she had so desperately been looking for. And in her home territory, where her uncles could continue to look after her.
‘Micah is right,’ Aled asserted. ‘I am looking for someone who can draw in and hold an audience, and tonight you proved you can do just that. Your solo won the loudest applause in the theatre.’
‘You’re very kind …’
‘When you get to know me better, you’ll realise I am anything but, Miss King,’ Aled refuted. ‘When it comes to employing artistes for my nightclubs I am swayed by talent and talent alone. And you are exceptionally talented.’
‘Thank you.’ Judy’s cheeks burned at the compliment.
‘I am about to hire a full orchestra that will, of course, back you if you take the job. It’s my intention to offer both musical entertainment and dancing in the club. If the members of the Bute Street Blues Band would like to audition for the orchestra, they will receive due consideration.’ He looked past Edyth to Micah.
‘I know my limitations, besides, I have a day job.’ Micah saw Aled place his hand close to Edyth’s on the tablecloth and he moved his chair nearer to hers.
‘The three Mr Kings, perhaps? I’ll let you know when we’ll be holding auditions for musicians. That way you can keep an eye on your niece.’
‘We’re all working on the Sea Breeze now, as builders.’ Tony had finally found his voice.
‘I know.’ Aled leaned back in his chair so the waiter could set a plate of smoked salmon and thin-cut brown bread and lemon in front of Edyth.
‘And we’re sailors by trade,’ Ron added, ‘not musicians.’
‘That’s not to say we won’t take any work that’s offered us,’ Jed broke in. ‘Jobs are scarce at the moment. I hope you don’t mind me coming directly to the point, Mr James, but what exactly are you offering Judy?’
‘Five nights’ work a week, Tuesday to Saturday, seven until three a.m. A respectable chauffeur escort to and from the club, all stage costumes, the services of a dresser, and ten pounds a week salary.’
‘Ten pounds?’ Judy’s eyes rounded in disbelief.
‘You’ll earn it,’ Aled said dryly. ‘As for your stage costumes: I warn you I will be very particular about what you’ll wear.’
‘Skimpy costumes?’ Jed asked warily.
‘For the chorus girls, certainly, for the star, no. It’s Miss King’s singing I’m interested in, Mr King, nothing else. If you accept the position, Miss King, I will ask my solicitor to draw up a contract tomorrow. That way, your solicitor,’ he looked from Jed to Micah, ‘can look it over. I know that Miss King has a cast-iron contract with the New Theatre for the next four weeks. I propose my contract and her wages begin the day after it terminates. And just so we enjoy the rest of this meal, I don’t expect you to give me an answer right away, Miss King.’ He clicked his fingers at the wine waiter and pointed to their glasses. ‘Now, shall we discuss Peter Pan? I have seen the show before, on Broadway, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as I did this evening’s performance and that has to be down to the actress who played Tiger Lily.’
During the meal Judy was aware of the large party from the theatre, principally because the producer, director, and leading actors persisted in complaining long and loud about everything from their plates being cold to the slow response of the wine waiter when it came to refilling their glasses, to the salt cellars being damp. They had been seated at a long table at the end of the room. And although she was sitting with her back to them, Judy suspected that their complaints stemmed from the head waiter’s delegation of the theatre’s table to a subordinate’s care, so he could bestow his full attention on Aled James and his table.
She didn’t dare turn around to look at her fellow performers, but when Lennie went to the cloakroom he returned by a roundabout route, so he could give her a broad and sympathetic wink. She responded with a small smile that was noticed by Aled.
‘You get on with Smee, Miss King?’ he asked in amusement.
‘Lennie – the actor who plays him – was very kind to me and all the other new girls during rehearsals. He knows all there is to know about stagecraft and he has a marvellous sense of humour,’ she added, trying to forget the acidic comments Lennie had made to Jeremy.
‘He was good,’ Aled mused thoughtfully. ‘Stan Peterson suggested that I employ a comic for the club as well as a singer. Perhaps I should talk to this Smee and see what he’s like out of character.’
‘He stole the show from Captain Hook,’ Micah commented.
‘He certainly got more laughs.’ Moody would have never dared voice his opinion if he hadn’t drunk two glasses of champagne which had gone straight to his head.
‘That wasn’t too difficult given the stilted performance of the actor playing the role,’ Aled said loudly. He’d suspected from the way Jeremy Dupois was leaning towards their table that he was listening in on every word that he and the others were saying. He was sure of it when Jeremy turned purple. ‘Max?’ Aled hailed the head waiter who was hovering attentively at his elbow. ‘I think we’re ready for coffee and the dessert trolley now. And brandies?’ He looked around at his guests.
‘Not for me, thank you. I have to be up early in the morning,’ Micah refused.
‘And we’ll be painting wonky lines on the wood and walls of your club if we have any,’ Tony added.
Aled showed off the contents of the dessert trolley as if he were personally responsible for the elegant confections, then waited until everyone had made their choice from the creams, mousses, soufflés, and iced puddings, before turning to Edyth and asking the question she sensed he had been waiting to broach all evening.
‘Mrs Slater, I had the impression that you thought you knew me when you saw me at the theatre.’
‘Did you?’ she replied, aware that her answer would irritate him.
‘I did. I also happened to see someone who looked just like me at the carnival. Is he a friend of yours?’
‘No, Mr James.’
‘Please, call me Aled.’ He laid his hand over hers on the table. She pulled it away and looked to Micah for support. He was engrossed in conversation with Jed and Moody. But as though he sensed her appealing to him, he turned and slipped his arm around her shoulders. She had never felt closer to him and gave him a grateful smile.
‘An acquaintance perhaps?’ Aled pressed.
‘My brother.’ She dropped her spoon on her gooseberry fool and pushed the bowl away from her.
‘You don’t like it?’ Aled noticed that she had scarcely touched her dessert.
‘It’s a little rich for me.’
‘His name? Your brother’s name,’ he repeated when she didn’t answer him.
She looked Aled directly in the eye. ‘Harry Evans. Do you know him?’
‘I believe I do. If he is the man I am thinking of, we were foster-brothers when we were children, in the Rhondda Valley.’
‘You’re from the Rhondda?’ Edyth had been born in Pontypridd but she knew her parents had moved there from the Rhondda Valley after her elder sister Bella’s birth. She also knew that Harry’s father had died before Harry was born and a few years before her parents had married. But it wasn’t something that her parents – or Harry – had discussed with her and her sisters, other than when they had told them that Harry’s fortune came from his real father’s family.
‘Clydach Vale.’ Aled watched her intently. ‘My mother used to look after children whose parents could not care for them. That’s how I met Harry. He was one of her foster children.’
‘I think you must be mistaken. I can’t imagine my mother handing over Harry, or any of us children, to someone else to bring up, not even for a short while,’ Edyth said tartly.
‘I believe your mother was in hospital at the time, but,’ he gave her one of his cold smiles, ‘I may be mistaken. I was only a child myself. Tell me, Mrs Slater, what does your brother do for a living?’ After making extensive enquiries Aled knew as much about Harry’s personal circumstances as any member of his family – and probably more about his business and financial affairs than anyone other than Harry and the trustees of his estate – but he continued to probe.
‘My brother works in a family business.’
‘And what would that be?’ Aled persisted. ‘Shops,’ Edyth replied shortly.
‘Big? Small?’ He widened his frosty smile when Edyth gave him a hard look.
‘It’s no secret, Mr James, my brother owns Gwilym James.’
‘The chain of department stores.’ Aled nodded sagely. ‘I can see now why you bought the bakery. You clearly come from a family of entrepreneurs.’
‘My father brought all of us up to earn our own livings, Mr James.’
‘Please, call me Aled.’
‘Very well – Aled.’
‘You are married, Mrs Slater?’
‘My husband and I are separated.’ Knowing from Micah’s enquiries that Aled had been living in the Windsor Hotel for a couple of weeks, Edyth didn’t doubt that he’d picked up all the Bay gossip, including the full story of her failed marriage.
‘You are very young. You couldn’t have been married long.’
‘A few months.’ She looked to Micah again, but Jed had commandeered his attention.
‘I’m sorry,’ Aled commiserated.
‘Marriage doesn’t always work out.’
‘Someone told me that you have applied to have your marriage annulled.’ He spooned sugar into his coffee.
‘You are well informed.’
‘Perhaps we could have dinner one evening.’
‘I don’t think so, Mr James.’ Edyth nudged Micah’s ankle beneath the cover of the table. ‘I keep very early hours as I have to be up every morning at four to open the bakery.’
‘Surely not on Sundays, which leaves Saturday night?’
‘On Sundays I am up even earlier to update my account books,’ she lied.
Micah looked ostentatiously at his watch. ‘I think it’s time I walked you and Judy home, Edyth.’
Aled reached for his cigar case and offered it around the table. ‘Allow me to send for taxis for all of you, Micah.’
‘Please, don’t disturb yourself, Aled.’ Micah rose from his chair. ‘It’s only a ten-minute walk from here to Goldman’s.’
‘We must be off too, Mr James.’ Judy’s uncles and Moody pushed their chairs back and rose to their feet. ‘We have to be up even earlier than Edyth,’ Tony said. ‘Mr Powell wants us to finish the conversion of the Sea Breeze in record time and what Mr Powell wants, Mr Powell gets.’
‘For the sake of my club I’m glad to hear it.’ Aled watched Micah crumple his napkin and drop it on his plate. ‘I’ll walk you to the door.’
Edyth allowed the attendant to drape her stole on her shoulders. She offered Aled her hand. He lifted it and kissed her knuckles.
‘Thank you for a lovely dinner and a lovely evening, Mr James,’ she said with more politeness than warmth.
‘The first of many we’ll enjoy together I hope, Mrs Slater. I trust that you,’ he looked at the others, ‘all of you, will come to the grand opening of the club and often afterwards to hear Miss King sing.’
‘We certainly will,’ Jed answered. ‘Our niece is very precious to us. Thank you for the dinner, Mr James.’
Aled smiled graciously as the others gave him their thanks, then taking Judy’s stole from the cloakroom attendant, he draped it around her shoulders. ‘You’ll let me know your answer when you’ve had time to consider my proposition?’
‘I don’t need time, Mr James; I would like to accept it.’
‘Subject to contract,’ Micah qualified cautiously.
‘That goes without saying, Micah. I trust this is the beginning of a very profitable relationship for both of us, Miss King. We must do this again and very soon so we can toast our future – together.’
Edyth watched Aled lift Judy’s hand to his lips and kiss it. Despite the warmth in the air, she shivered. Aled James had been kind and generous to all of them and exceptionally so to Judy. She was being ridiculous. After all, what did she have to base her dislike of him on, except a peculiar likeness to Harry – and a more abrupt and business-like personality?
‘Goodnight, Mrs Slater.’
‘Goodnight, Mr James.’ Edyth took Micah’s arm and walked away.