A Night of Gaiety Read Online Free PDF Page B

for the actresses.
    On the walls of the tiny room, which was no bigger than a cupboard, there were pictures of Gaiety Girls and the leading actors and actresses.
    Despite the warmth of the evening, there was a fire, and the moment Davita appeared, the old man left it to say politely:
    “ ’Evening, Miss, an’ what can I do for you?”
    “Could I please see ... Miss Violet Lock?” Davita asked.
    The elderly man looked at her keenly.
    “Is she expecting you?” he enquired.
    “I ... I think so,” Davita answered. “She knew I was coming to ... London from Scotland.”
    The elderly man raised his eye-brows.
    An old sea-captain, Tierney, unlike many stage-door keepers, was always polite and never forgot a message. He knew almost by instinct who could go in and who should not. Davita was not aware of it, but for the moment he could not place her.
    She was obviously not one of the girls who were always trying to sneak in and get an autograph or a souvenir from one of the actors they admired, nor did she look as if she wanted a part.
    As if she was suddenly aware of his hesitation, Davita said:
    “I am a ... sort of ... relative of Miss Lock.”
    Old Tierney smiled.
    “Then you’d better go up and see ’er,” he said. “Third door at the top of the First Floor. If she doesn’t want you, you’re to come back down again. You understand—Miss?”
    The “Miss” came after just a slight hesitation, as if Tierney had suddenly decided she was entitled to it.
    “Thank you very ... much,” Davita said breathlessly.
    Then she was climbing an iron staircase, thinking as she did so that whatever the Theatre was like in the front, at the back it was not very prepossessing.
    It was also rather frightening because it was so busy.
    As she went up the staircase, several people passed her in a hurry, going either up or down, in various stages of dress and undress which made her want to stare at them curiously.
    When she reached a long corridor with doors opening off it, she could hear the chatter of voices and laughter, and when a door opened she had a glimpse of several women in various stages of undress.
    She hurried to the door that had been indicated.
    She knocked, but because she was nervous it made very little sound.
    The voices she heard inside did not stop talking.
    Then she knocked again, and this time somebody called out: “Come in!”
    She opened the door and found herself facing a long room in which there were a number of women, each, to Davita’s startled gaze, more beautiful than the last.
    Several were sitting in front of mirrors, applying grease-paint to their faces, two were struggling into very elaborate, brightly coloured gowns, helped by two elderly women.
    One at the far end of the room was being laced into a very tight corset, and with a leap of her heart Davita recognised Violet.
    She moved forward, and as she did so the woman nearest to her said sharply:
    “Shut the door behind you!”
    Apologetically, Davita obeyed, and as she did so Violet recognised her.
    “Davita!” she cried.
    Because there was a warmth in her voice which Davita recognised, she hurried across the room to fling her arms round her.
    “I am here, Violet! You were expecting me?”
    “I got your letter and I knew you’d turn up sooner or later,” Violet said. “I suppose Ma Jenkins sent you here?”
    “Yes, she did. And she has given me a room.”
    “That’s all right then.”
    As Violet spoke, she turned her head to look back at the dresser who was lacing up her corset, and said: “Here, Jessie, not too tight! I can’t breathe!”
    “You don’t have to!” Jessie answered.
    “If I faint on the stage, it’ll be your fault, not mine!” With barely a pause between the words, Violet went on to Davita:
    “Let’s have a look at you! Goodness, I wish I had a complexion like yours! I suppose you’ll say it’s all that Scottish air. Well, there’s too much of it for my liking!”
    “Oh, Violet, you did not mind my coming,