The Amorous Nightingale

    Smeek looked down at the money in his friend's huge palm.

    'How long will it take us to drink through that, Ben?'

    'Let's see.'

    They shared a laugh, bought more ale then joined in the general revelry. The raucous atmosphere was home to them. Drinking heavily, they were quite unaware that someone was spying on them from the doorway. It was Froggatt who peeled off first to relieve himself. He made an obscene gesture to his companion then lurched out of the inn and around to the alleyway at the rear. Undoing his breeches, he broke wind violently then urinated against the wall.

    The first blow was across the back of his neck. It made him double up in agony. Before he could turn, other blows from a heavy object rained down on his head. Froggatt flailed around madly, trying to grab his attacker, but his legs began to buckle. A final relay of blows from the cudgel sent him dropping to the ground in a pool of blood and urine.

    Roland Trigg used a foot to turn the twitching carcass over.

    'Hello, Ben,' he said with a grin. 'Remember me?'

    Abigail Saunders was circumspect. Pleased to be introduced by Killigrew to a handsome young man, she balked slightly when she realised that he was Henry Redmayne's brother. The manager left the two of them alone in her dressing room so that Christopher could try to talk his way past her obvious reservations.

    'I heard what happened to your brother,' she said with a degree of concern. 'It was dreadful. How is Henry?'

    'On the mend, Miss Saunders.'

    'Good.'

    'I'm sure he doesn't regret it.'

    'Regret what?'

    'Coming here yesterday afternoon,' said Christopher. 'Even if it cost him a beating, he wouldn't have missed your performance as Aspatia.'

    'Thank you,' she said, melting slightly.

    'Everyone tells me that you were superb.'

    'You'll have to judge for yourself, Mr Redmayne.'

    'Will there be a chance for me to do so?'

    'Possibly,' she said, turning her head to let him see her in profile. 'The play is very popular with audiences. Mr Killigrew is talking of staging it again next week.'

    'What if Mrs Gow has returned by then?'

    'There's no sign that she will. Harriet has vanished into thin air.'

    'Have you any idea where she might be?'

    'None at all.'

    She turned back to look him full in the eye, almost challenging him to question her more closely on the subject. Christopher held back. Like Henry, he sensed that she knew more than she would ever divulge but, unlike his brother, he did not want to antagonise her with a thoughtless remark. He studied her face then gave a smile of approval.

    'Henry was right,' he said gallantly. 'You're very beautiful, Miss Saunders.'

    She blossomed. 'Thank you, Mr Redmayne,' she said happily. 'No disrespect to your brother but I find your praise more acceptable than his. Henry is too glib and well rehearsed. As an actress, I appreciate a capacity for rehearsal,' she continued, starting to relax. 'As a woman, however, I prefer a spontaneous compliment to a prepared one.' 'You must have plenty of both, Miss Saunders.'

    'A woman can never have too many compliments.'

    There was a teasing note in her voice. He did not respond to it.

    'I believe that you're a friend of Martin Eldridge,' he said.

    'Martin? Why, yes. We have a history.'

    'History?'

    'Not of that kind,' she reprimanded with a mock frown. 'Martin Eldridge and I could never be that close. But we did start out together in the theatre. We had our first parts in a play for The Duke's Men.'

    'Is he a good actor?'

    'I think so. And he was a staunch supporter of me.'

    'Why did he leave the company?'

    'Because he fell out with Mr Killigrew.' She looked towards the door. 'That's not too difficult to do, I'm afraid. He's a volatile character at the best of times. Martin upset him and his contract was not renewed.'

    'Where might I find him?'

    'Why should you want to do so?'

    'A personal reason. His name was passed on to me.'

    'I've no idea where he lodges presently but he's stayed with friends in Shoreditch before now. Somewhere in Old Street, I think.'

    'I don't suppose you'd know the name of those friends?'

    'No, Mr Redmayne. Martin has so many.'

    'So I'm told. According to Mr Killigrew, he was close to Mrs Gow.'

    'Too close, in my view!'

    'Why?'

    'Harriet did tend to gather young men around her, I'm afraid. We all like to do that to some extent, of course, but she took it to extremes. Martin was one of her attendants, always running errands for her. It was demeaning,' she said irritably. 'I told him so but he wouldn't listen.'

    'What other young men did she have in her train?'

    'I'm past caring.'

    'So you did care at one point?'

    'Mr Redmayne,' she retorted, 'I've a life of my own to lead and it gives me little time to pry into the affairs of others. Especially when one of them is Harriet Gow. I'd simply never be able to keep track of all her admirers. Harriet has changed,' she said ruefully. 'She's changed so much. I remember her when she first came into this cruel profession. Harriet was a nice, quiet, friendly girl with a husband she adored. Bartholomew went everywhere with her in those days - until she found him an inconvenience.'

    'You sound as if you're sorry for him.'

    'No husband should be treated like that. Somehow, he's managed to survive. Indeed, parting from Harriet may turn out to be a blessed release. When I saw him recently, he looked almost happy again.'

    His ears pricked up. 'You saw Mr Gow?'

    'Less than a week ago.'

    'Do you remember where?'

    'Of course. At Locket's ordinary in Charing Cross. I was dining there with a friend. Bartholomew Gow was sitting at the next table with his lawyer - a Mr Shann, as I recall. Bartholomew did introduce me. We only exchanged a brief word,' she said, 'but one of his comments made me burn with curiosity. Especially as his prediction turned out to be absolutely true.'

    'Prediction?'

    'Bartholomew told me that opportunity was at hand, and urged me to be ready for it. Harriet would soon be indisposed, he said, and I'd be asked to replace her if I'd studied her roles.'

    'Were those his exact words?'

    'More or less.'

    'Did he say why his wife would be unavailable?'

    'I didn't care,' she said coldly. 'Chances come along so rarely in this profession that you have to seize them with both hands. I'm very grateful to Bartholomew Gow.' She gave a dazzling smile, and added: 'He told me that his wife might be unable to appear on stage again for quite some time.'