Fawn did order a cab after all, but not to her usual destination where her mother was waiting for her in the drawing room. Instead, Walter found himself in Shepherd’s Bush, opening the door to his run-down flat with Fawn following behind him. She looked out of place in her clean, pristine dress and unscuffed shoes against his peeling wallpaper and the worn away carpet, but there wasn’t a trace of disgust or disapproval on her face.
‘I’m so pleased I’m here,’ she whispered in his ear as she pulled him into an embrace.
‘Yeah?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be? It was my idea.’
‘I know, it’s just… well, look at this place. It’s not exactly the Ritz, is it?’
‘I’m far happier here than I could ever be at the Ritz.’ She laughed at his worried eyes and his set lips.
‘I’ll never be able to offer you what Hamish can offer you.’ He ran his hands up the back of her stiff, boned dress while she smoothed out the creases on his shirt with her fingers.
‘Bruises? Black eyes? Broken bones? Walter, money doesn’t matter to me. I would give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant being with you. If it was about money, I’d be out at the party with Hamish now drinking as much champagne as I could lay my hands on and ordering more caviar and lobster than my stomach could hold.’ She laughed. ‘None of this has ever been about money.’
He rolled his eyes, but she took his chin between her fingers and made him look at her directly in the eyes.
‘Walter, I love you.’ Those three unfaltering words hung in the air between them. ‘And I rarely say things I don’t mean and when I do it’s becau —’
‘I love you,’ Walter said against her lips and he kissed her and their kiss didn’t end until the sun came up.
18
Listen
By the time Walter awoke, the working day for theatre folk was almost upon them. He left Fawn asleep in his bed with a cup of tea and a note on the bedside table, and as he headed towards the theatre later for work than normal, he didn’t rush. Lenny knew that Fawn had gone through quite an ordeal the night before and was probably pleased that Walter was taking good care of her. However, when Walter arrived at stage door, it wasn’t Lenny sat behind the desk, but Hamish’s right-hand man Randall.
‘Glad you finally decided to show up. There are parcels and letters that need to be delivered across the theatre and seeing as you’re now in charge, you’ll need the key to the key box.’ Randall dangled Lenny’s set of brass keys in front of Walter’s face. They jangled as Randall waggled his hand and the noise made Walter’s insides jangle too.
‘Where’s Lenny?’ Walter asked.
‘He quit, Mr Brown.’
‘No, he wouldn’t do that. He… he loves this job.’
‘Then I don’t know what to tell you, Mr Brown.’
‘The truth, Mr Heaves,’ Walter said, and as Randall stood up quickly from his desk Walter realised just how tall the other man was. He moved quickly through the doorway and up close, Walter could smell the coffee and cigar smoke on Randall’s breath.
‘I have told you the truth you need to know. Now, you’re already in a very bad position, Mr Brown. It is very rare that I notice something and do not mention it to Mr Boatwright; however, your dalliance with Miss Burrows is something I have chosen not to disclose as of yet. Not when the problem can be so easily fixed without upsetting the boss. So, do the job you are paid to do, stop asking questions, stop dallying with the actors and know that you have been warned.’ Randall pushed the cold hard metal keys into Walter’s palm and left the building with a swift hard push of the door.
Walter looked at Lenny’s set of keys in his hand. He’d seen them a million times before to know they were his, but he also knew that Lenny would never hand them over without a fight. Which made Walter believe there had been one and that Lenny had lost.
Fawn arrived at the theatre at six o’clock looking fresh-faced and more content than Walter thought he had ever seen her. She ticked by her name and leant over through the hatch to plant a kiss on Walter’s cheek.
‘Someone might see!’ he whispered, pushing her gently back through to her side.
‘Let’s run away,’ she whispered back.
‘Excuse me?’ he laughed.
‘I don’t care if that man chases me to the ends of the Earth,’ she yelled.
‘Shush!’ Walter said, now concerned.
‘I don’t care if he hears me now. I have enough money to get us to America. There are a million people on that continent. He’ll never find us. You can find a theatre to work at on Broadway and I can… oh, I don’t know. Write. I’ll write plays. Under a pseudonym.’ She beamed at him. ‘We’d be hidden and safe and happy, Walter. We could be happy.’
‘Are you crazy?’ he said, his voice still hushed just in case Randall was skulking somewhere nearby. His words had set Walter on edge, but nothing could make him stay away from the person that made him happier above all else.
‘Absolutely.’ Fawn reached through the hatch and held out her hand which he took and placed on his cheek.
‘Let’s talk about it after the show then, crazy.’ He kissed her palm.
‘Tell me now, though. Do you want to come away with me? Would you do that?’ Despite the way Hamish had treated her, her eyes were still so full of hope and an innocence that Walter himself hoped would never vanish.
‘I’d follow you anywhere, Fawn.’
‘Then I feel there’s little to talk about after the show, but I’ll be there anyway.’
‘When the curtain falls,’ he smiled.
‘When the curtain falls. I’ll be there.’ She blew him a kiss and waltzed off into the theatre, her feet barely touching the stairs.
The show ended, and Fawn decided to get changed in her dressing room as quickly as she could before meeting Walter. That way, they could disappear into the night immediately. She was hoping for at least one more night, safely curled around him in his bed where she felt warm and happy. But when a knock came at her dressing room door she had a feeling she already knew who was waiting on the other side.
‘Just a moment!’ she called, but the door was unlocked and her guest was in her room before she’d been able to entirely cover herself up with her dressing gown.
‘Hamish,’ she greeted him, coldly.
‘Well done tonight, sweetie. One of your best performances yet,’ he said, running his thumb over the silver handle of his cane.
‘Thank you,’ she said, removing the pins from her hair.
‘You seem to be in a rush.’
‘Not at all,’ she said.
‘Well, you should be if we’re going to make dinner with Lord and Lady Peckworth. They want to talk about this new production I’ve been envisioning.’ He threw his chin into the air and breathed in deeply, as if a new wave of inspiration was soaking in.
‘Okay.’ She swallowed. ‘I’ll be down in a few minutes. Just let me get ready and —’
‘Don’t lie to me, sweetie.’ Hamish’s knuckles were now white as he gripped his cane. ‘This doesn’t need to be difficult.’
‘I’m not being difficult.’ She smiled and as she felt it reach her eyes she realised she was a much better actor than she had been giving herself credit for.
‘Then I’ll see you downstairs?’ Hamish’s shoulders relaxed, and the blood returned to his hands.
‘Five minutes,’ she said as she playfully shooed him from the room. She waited until she heard his footsteps disappear down the corridor and then she locked the door, grabbed everything she needed and threw it into her satchel and quickly made her way down to the stage left wing. She ran quickly so as not to be heard but as she turned the corner where the double doors to stage left came into sight, Randall stepped out into view.
‘Going somewhere?’ Randall made quick work of lifting her around the waist with one arm, as he clamped his other hand down over her mouth when she tried to scream out for Walter. He carried her up and out of stage door, not caring who saw, and
bundled her into the back seat of a car where Hamish was already waiting. Randall swiftly got into the driver’s seat and drove them away from the fans and their flashing cameras and the fluttering pages of their autograph books. Hamish turned towards Fawn, and placed the cold silver end of his cane under her chin, lifting her face so the moonlight could illuminate her tears.
‘You’re not that good an actress.’
19
The Pearl
Randall didn’t take Fawn and Hamish to see Lord and Lady Peckworth. Instead, the car meandered through London to Park Lane.
‘Hamish…’ she said softly.
‘Don’t think you can bargain with me,’ he snapped.
‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I promise it won’t happen again,’ she said, crossing her fingers. The car pulled up and stopped abruptly outside the Dorchester hotel. Hamish stepped out of the car and held the door open for Fawn.
‘Out,’ he said.
Fawn sank back into the darkness of the car, hoping she might just vanish.
‘Out.’
‘Not until you tell me why we’re here.’
‘Fawn…’ Hamish’s voice held a warning, and Fawn quickly pulled on the handle of the far side passenger door, ready to run, but instead she fell straight into Randall’s arms who carried her struggling body over to Hamish. Fawn was ready to start screaming but Randall quietly whispered in her ear, ‘Remember now, dearie. I know about the boy.’
If that hadn’t been enough to silence her then moving the left side of his jacket away to reveal the hilt of a gun that was tucked into the waistband of his suit trousers certainly was.
‘Quiet now.’ Randall spat on the floor and Fawn could feel her hands shaking and her options running out. If she screamed, if she warned anyone, she’d put Walter’s life in danger and yet if she followed Hamish into this hotel, she knew she was putting herself in peril. No matter which way she turned she felt walls building up around her and caging her in.
‘Let’s not cause a scene now, darling,’ Hamish said, taking off his jacket and placing it around her shoulders. ‘We wouldn’t want to be making the wrong sort of headlines, would we?’ Together they ascended the steps into the Dorchester and into a lift that would take her ever closer to Hamish’s room.
Walter waited for forty-five minutes. After the first ten, he became worried and after the full three quarters of an hour he was close to pulling out his hair. When he finally decided she wasn’t coming, he quickly scaled down the ladder, grabbed his bag from the stage door office and locked up at fast as his shaking hands would let him. As he bolted the padlock on the door, an overheard conversation pricked his ears.
‘Honestly, there was more blood than I could handle.’ Walter turned to see two police officers walking past the theatre.
‘Poor bugger. Both ears, you said?’
‘Both ears, clean off. Found him just round the corner in an alley behind some bins. Not a thing left of them on ’is ’ead. Whoever did it was an artist with a knife.’
‘An artist and a devil. You caught him yet?’
‘Nah. The victim’s too scared to talk. Thinks ’e’s gonna lose more than just ’is ears next time. Looks like whoever it was ’as threatened every body part on the poor soul.’
Walter watched the police officers come and go, their conversation taking with it every last bit of hope he had in his body. He prayed to whoever was listening that they weren’t talking about Lenny.
Leonard. Do you have trouble with your ears?
You wha’?
Because not once have you ever seemed to be able to listen.
Walter felt his stomach turn and he retched and doubled over but nothing came up. The cold of the night was setting in quicker than usual and his fingers were icy as he wiped away the saliva from his lips. Walter thought about running after the police officers, telling them everything he knew about Randall and Hamish and what sort of men they were, but Fawn’s voice echoed in his head: You don’t think someone like Hamish has connections? I won’t have been the first woman Hamish has treated like this and where was the law then?
Walter went to run back into the theatre but there was nothing he could do from in there except hide and he’d had more than enough of hiding.
‘Oh God.’ He crouched down in the street and held his head as the world started to spin and he let out a sob. He didn’t know where to begin looking for Fawn and even if he found whatever lavish party, club or hotel Hamish had taken her to, he wasn’t the sort of person they’d allow inside anyway. The door to the pub opposite stage door opened up and he was drenched in its warm light and like a moth, he followed it.
Walter’s hand slid up his pint glass as Hamish’s hand slid down the back of Fawn’s dress. Bodies crowded at the bar and someone jostled the drink out of Walter’s hand, soaking his shirt as Fawn threw a glass of champagne in Hamish’s face. Anger bubbled up inside Walter, clouding his mind and he lunged for the man who had barged him, as Hamish lunged for Fawn. A glass crashed to the pub floor as Walter tangled with another man, while Fawn struggled against Hamish’s arms and knocked over a lamp which shattered against the marble floor of the hotel room. Walter yelled in pain as Fawn cried out for help. Walter struggled, but he was smaller and weaker than the man he’d chosen to take on. Fawn was too. Walter felt himself being pinned to the ground, bracing himself for a punch or two but all he could think about as the blows came one after another was Fawn. And as she now lay silent and numb, looking up into the ecstatic eyes of Hamish Boatwright, her throat like broken glass from the screaming and her body aching from the struggle, she closed her eyes and tried so very hard to make her mind leave her body and travel to the safety and warmth of the night before when she’d lain in Walter’s arms.
The whole world seemed to have increased in volume and even the sound of the key turning in the key box was too much for Walter’s sore head. The noise of the keys jangling together as he passed each set over to the actors sent a wave of nausea through his body, but it was his black eyes that were causing him the most discomfort. Swollen and bruised, he could barely see through them and there was no way of sitting in his desk chair that didn’t make him ache all over.
‘Well, don’t you look handsome.’ Hamish slotted his cane through the hatch and lifted Walter’s chin to the light to inspect the damage. As he lifted his face, Walter could see Fawn standing behind Hamish, her eyes lowered, her face sallow and gaunt as she swayed slightly on the spot. Hamish laughed under his breath and held out his gloved hand. ‘Keys,’ he demanded, but Walter didn’t move.
‘Please.’ Walter could barely see Hamish through his throbbing eye sockets, but he took great pleasure in seeing his smug expression falter, even if just for a second.
‘What?’
‘Keys, please.’
‘Give them to me, boy.’ Walter was merely a nuisance to Hamish. A nobody. As insignificant as a theatre mouse and until now Walter had reinforced that status by behaving as such. But now, seeing the shell of Fawn with the life sucked out of her, a defiance rose up in Walter that he didn’t know he had within him.
‘Just because you got rid of Lenny doesn’t mean I’m going to take any less respect than he demanded. So, if you want to keep acting like an arse you’ll have to get rid of me too. B–because I won’t stand for it either.’ Fawn’s eyes flickered to him and although she didn’t smile, couldn’t smile, Walter knew his words meant something to her.
‘I don’t know what you’re insinuating, boy, but I know I don’t like it.’ Hamish beat his fist down on the desk and then opened up his fingers. ‘Now give me… my bloody keys.’ Walter took his set out of the key box and threw them over, looking Hamish directly in his eyes, to which Hamish scoffed and stormed through the doors into the building. Walter turned to fetch the set of keys for Fawn’s dressing room, but he heard the sound of something hitting his desk with force. He turned back to see tears spilling down Fawn’s cheek, her pale hand clenched tightly on the desk. After a moment of c
omposing herself, she lifted her hand to reveal a beautiful pearl that shone in the lamp light.
‘Tonight,’ she whispered, the word catching in her throat. Walter looked at her. Her face was no longer young and fresh but pale and pained, her eyes shining from her tears but without their usual wonder. Walter picked up the pearl and rolled it between his fingers. It was warm from Fawn’s clenched fist and he found it utterly astounding that such a tiny object could hold so much weight and significance. This old pearl might just be their new beginning.
‘Tonight.’
20
The Curtain Call