Page 114 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
‘I don’t remember Olive well– except that she had beautiful red-gold hair– but she was nothing like that frightened skinny woman in there.’
‘That’s it,’ agreed Adela. ‘Everything seems to frighten her.’
‘How sad,’ said Josey, linking an arm through Adela’s. ‘But whatever your aunt’s problems are, you are not to blame for them. Come on, we’ve a show to put on.’
The People’s Theatre group played all week to packed audiences. Adela helped as much in the preparation as she could, though her job at the Essoldo meant that she missed most of the performances. The Wednesday matinee was her afternoon off, and so she determined to watch the play herself that day. A hurried note from Florence came to Herbert’s that morning, where she was helping Lexy serve breakfasts.
‘Josey has been sick all night. She’s asking if you could possibly stand in for her this afternoon.’
‘Poor Josey,’ said Adela in concern.
‘Aye,’ said Lexy, ‘but this is your big chance to shine on stage. Take that pinny off and get yoursel’ up to the theatre.’
Derek’s grumbling at the last-minute change was half-hearted; he had watched Adela rehearsing the part with Josey and already knew she was capable of doing a cheeky, flirtatious Louka. In his opinion, Josey was a talented character actress carrying off her role with the force of her personality rather than her looks. Adela– if she didn’t get stage fright– would be funny, as well as engaging to look at.
As soon as Adela stepped on the stage and felt the heat and glare of the spotlights, she was exhilarated. Everything else in her life vanished: all anxious thoughts, past traumas, pain and regret were pushed from her mind as she became Louka. She revelled in the part, playing the coquettish servant for all it was worth. The laughter from the audience made her as heady as if she’d been drinking champagne.
Afterwards, as she sat in the cramped dressing room taking off her make-up and chattering with her fellow players, Josey walked in with Derek behind.
‘Are you all right?’ Adela sprang up.
‘She seems to have made a remarkable recovery,’ Derek said dryly. ‘In fact she was feeling well enough to sit and watch the matinée.’
Adela gaped.
‘You were wonderful, Miss Robson.’ Josey grinned and gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘I’m beginning to think I made a huge mistake picking you as my understudy.’
‘Did you pretend to be ill just to let me perform?’ Adela asked. ‘You did, didn’t you?’
‘Put it this way,’ Derek grunted, ‘she’ll be in the pink and back on stage tonight.’
Adela was overwhelmed with gratitude. ‘Thank you,’ Adela said, hugging her friend.
‘And that’s not all,’ said Derek. ‘Cecil McGivern was in the audience and was asking who you were.’
Adela gasped. ‘The BBC producer?’
Derek nodded. ‘He acted with The People’s years ago, long before he started making dramas and documentaries.’
‘What did you say about me?’ Adela was wide-eyed.
‘That you were a posh flapper from Simla, but you were useful to the wardrobe department.’
Josey spluttered. ‘Flapper? Nobody uses that expression now. You’re showing your age, Derek.’ She turned to Adela. ‘And he’s only teasing. I heard him positively gushing about you to Cecil.’
Derek gave the flicker of a smile. ‘Well, he’s making a radio programme about The People’s– past patrons, like George Bernard Shaw and Dame Sybil Thorndike, are going to be interviewed– and I wanted to give us all a bit of credit.’
Adela was touched by his gesture. ‘Thanks, Derek. I’ve hardly been here two minutes, so it was very kind of you.’
‘Don’t thank me. I would have disowned you if you hadn’t given a good performance up there,’ he said. ‘You’re not bad for a member of the ruling class.’
That summer Adela continued to fill every moment of every day with activity: working at the Essoldo, helping at the theatre, learning to bake cakes and pies at Herbert’s under Lexy’s and Jane’s instruction, and visiting Maggie and Ina in Cullercoats. Lexy tried to encourage her to take the occasional evening off.
‘Why don’t you go to the cricket dance on Saturday?’ she suggested. ‘George will stop asking you to go if you keep turning down his invitations.’
‘George doesn’t mind,’ said Adela. ‘He’s only asking out of politeness. And I don’t think Joan likes me. It would just be awkward.’
Lexy gave her a pitying look. ‘Listen, lass. You made a mistake and got in trouble. Plenty do. But you don’t need to punish yourself for ever. Find a lad who’ll treat you well.’
