Little Stars Read online

  ‘It’s called acting, child – but it’s becoming more of a struggle! I should really let our ingénue, Stella, play Juliet instead. The girl’s young and pretty, but her acting’s wooden as a chair leg.’

  ‘No one could ever take over from you,’ I said.

  ‘I think you’d better come round to my dressing room every evening to give my confidence a boost!’ she said, smiling at me. ‘There’s the dress, hanging over the screen. Do you really think you can fix it so quickly?’

  ‘Of course I can,’ I said, taking hold of the dress.

  It was a shabby little gown when she wasn’t wearing it, the blue velvet faded and worn and the white muslin in tatters. It would be a challenge to fix it up – but I’d have sewn her an entire trousseau overnight if she’d demanded it.

  I wanted to stay chatting with her in her dressing room, but I knew it would be foolish to risk encountering Samson again. I ran off, promising Miss Royal that I wouldn’t let her down, and joined up with Diamond and Bertie, who were sitting on the steps of the Cavalcade.

  ‘Come on, Hetty! I can hear Lily Lark singing. Samson will be out any minute,’ said Diamond, jumping up.

  ‘Has he been pestering you again?’ asked Bertie.

  ‘No, no – we just don’t like him, that’s all,’ I said quickly. I didn’t want Bertie to tackle him – it was clear who would win any tussle.

  Bertie himself knew this, and he cursed Samson all the way back to Miss Gibson’s, going on and on about him. Even Diamond couldn’t coax him out of his mood. When Bertie and I said our goodnights in the dark, I tried being extra sweet to him, whispering little compliments, rubbing the back of his neck until he relaxed.

  ‘I love you so, Hetty,’ he said, winding a lock of my hair round his finger. ‘Do you really love me back?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ I said. ‘There now. I’m so glad you’re not angry any more.’

  ‘You’re an artful little witch, Hetty.’ He reached for the Mizpah ring, turning it round and round on my finger. ‘You’re mine, aren’t you? You’d never run off with a drunken oaf like Samson, would you?’

  ‘Do you think I’m a fool?’ I said, and I mock-clouted him about the head. ‘Come on – one more kiss and then I have to go indoors.’

  I didn’t go to bed straight away. Long after Miss Gibson had gone upstairs I sat sewing by candlelight. I cut into a length of new soft white muslin, deciding I would do just one sleeve, but when I had done it I felt I had to complete the job and do the other sleeve too. I was so tired my eyes kept blurring, but I could still see that the new sleeves made the blue velvet look very old and tired, and the hem was beginning to fray.

  I went to bed thinking of ways to improve the old costume. When I went to sleep, I dreamed I was wearing the blue velvet gown myself, peering down from the balcony, distracted by love. I gazed into the darkness and saw a figure in the shadows, but I couldn’t see who it was.

  When I woke, I started working on the Juliet costume again. Miss Gibson didn’t have any blue velvet to remake it from scratch. I decided to embellish the worn parts instead.

  I stitched silver brocade ribbon around the hem, which instantly smartened up the dress and made the folds of the skirt hang more crisply. (I only remembered that it would be obscured by the wretched balcony later on, but consoled myself that Miss Royal would like it all the same.) I gave Diamond a length of the ribbon to decorate Adeline and Maybelle’s dresses.

  Then I started embroidering. I thought of the moon images in the play, and the fact that Romeo and Juliet were called ‘star-crossed lovers’. I sewed a shining moon on the front of the dress, and added silver stars at random, knowing they would catch the light when Miss Royal was on stage.

  ‘You’re turning that gown into a little masterpiece,’ said Miss Gibson.

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked her anxiously. ‘What if Miss Royal doesn’t like it? Do you think she’ll be angry with me for adding embroidery? She might prefer it plain.’

  ‘Then she’s a fool,’ said Miss Gibson. ‘But you can always unstitch it all. Though not before I’ve taken careful note of your design. It’s very similar to the new art that’s all the rage in Paris. You’ve got such an eye, Hetty.’

  ‘Do I have an eye too, Miss Gibson?’ Diamond lisped, widening one eye and squinting with the other.

  She held up Adeline and Maybelle. Their brocade ribbon was puckered in places, but Miss Gibson praised her lavishly and then made us tea and sponge cake. Diamond insisted on thimbles of tea and crumbs of cake for her dolls.

  ‘’Cos they get as hungwee as we do,’ she lisped. While we were getting ready for the show I held Diamond at arm’s length.

  ‘Is your little-girly act all pretend, Diamond?’ I asked, looking her straight in the eye. ‘All this play with the dolls, and lickle teeny voices, and flouncing about? You don’t need to pretend with me. I don’t mind in the slightest. I’m just curious.’

  ‘Well . . . I like playing,’ said Diamond. ‘And I like it when people think I’m sweet.’

  ‘I always think you’re sweet,’ I said. ‘But very artful. Now, have you done your stretching exercises? We can’t get sloppy. The Little Stars have to be perfect all the time.’

  ‘I’m sick of being a blooming Little Star,’ said Diamond, in her old street-girl voice.

  She was perfect for the performance, though – a lovely little doll herself, landing on my shoulders with perfect precision yet again. When we came off stage I was excited to see Marina Royal standing in the wings.

  ‘Bravo!’ she said, embracing us.

  ‘I have your repaired Juliet dress safe, Miss Royal,’ I told her happily.

  ‘Well, you really are a Little Star. I’m very grateful. Could you bring it up to my dressing room in the interval after the second act?’

  ‘Certainly,’ I said.

  I loved it that she didn’t mind me visiting her in her dressing room. Lily Lark wouldn’t allow any of the other artistes in hers, not even Mrs Ruby herself. Diamond wanted to come too, of course, so I took her with me.

  Bertie was left kicking his heels irritably. ‘What am I supposed to do, just hang about while you fawn over old Ma Royal?’ he demanded.

  ‘Don’t you dare talk about Miss Royal in that rude way! I’m not going to “fawn”, as you put it. I’m simply returning her costume,’ I said. ‘I had to do a little repair work for her. She asked me specially.’

  ‘So how much is she paying you?’ Bertie asked.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of asking for payment,’ I said. ‘Not from someone like Marina Royal.’

  ‘Well, more fool you. I never thought you’d be such a mug, Hetty.’

  ‘Oh, mind your own business!’ I snapped, and flounced off.

  ‘Poor Bertie,’ Diamond remarked as we went upstairs to the dressing rooms.

  ‘I hate it when he interferes and tells me what to do,’ I said.

  ‘That’s what ladies are supposed to like, isn’t it?’ asked Diamond.

  ‘Well, I’m no lady – and I hate being bossed about,’ I said.

  ‘You boss me sometimes. A lot of times.’

  ‘No, I don’t! I look after you!’

  ‘It’s all right, I don’t mind,’ said Diamond. ‘You have your little ways.’

  ‘I don’t know, one minute you’re acting like a baby and the next you sound like a wise little old woman,’ I said, grinning at her.

  We knocked on Marina Royal’s door and she told us to come in. She was in her wrapper again, applying fresh paint to her face, lots of white under her eyes and pink on her cheeks to look like a youthful Juliet. She’d undone her hair, and it tumbled down past her shoulders in great shining skeins, rich red darkening almost to purple.

  She looked so marvellous I was awestruck again, scarcely able to say a sensible word.

  Diamond had more wits about her. ‘Good evening, Miss Royal,’ she said, actually bobbing a curtsy.

  ‘Hello, dears. No need for curtsies, poppet. I’m not the old