'Rather.' He felt tears come to his eyes. 'I don't understand why she disappeared. I've no idea where she went. I never knew her address. I've inquired at the livery stables she worked for, and at the Argyll Rooms where I met her. Solly Greenbourne was fond of her too, and he's as baffled as I am. Tonio Silva knew her friend April, but Tonio has gone back to South America and I can't find April.'
'How mysterious.'
'I'm sure Aunt Augusta arranged this somehow.'
'I have no doubt of it. I can't imagine how, but she is appallingly devious. However, you must look to the future now, Hugh. Boston will be such an opportunity for you. You must work hard and conscientiously.'
'She really is an extraordinary girl, Mother.'
Mother did not believe him, he could tell. She said: 'But you'll forget her.'
'I wonder if I ever shall.'
Mother kissed his forehead. 'You will. I promise.'
Section 2
THERE WAS ONLY ONE PICTURE ON THE WALL in the attic room Maisie shared with April. It was a garish circus poster showing Maisie, in spangled tights, standing on the back of a galloping horse. Underneath, in red letters, were the words 'The Amazing Maisie.' The picture was not very true to life, for the circus had not actually had any white horses, and Maisie's legs had never been that long. All the same she cherished the poster. It was her only souvenir of those days.
Otherwise the room contained only a narrow bed, a washstand, one chair and a three- legged stool. The girls' clothes hung from nails banged into the wall. The dirt on the window served instead of curtains. They tried to keep the place clean but it was impossible. Soot fell down the chimney, mice came up through the cracks in the floorboards, and dirt and insects crept in through the gaps between the window frame and the surrounding brickwork. Today it was raining, and water dripped from the windowsill and from a crack in the ceiling.
Maisie was getting dressed. It was Rosh Hashanah, when the Book of Life was open, and at this time of year she always wondered what was being written for her. She never actually prayed, but she did sort of hope, in a solemn kind of way, that something good was going on her page of the Book.
April had gone to make tea in the communal kitchen, but now she came back, bursting into the room with a newspaper in her hand. 'It's you, Maisie, it's you!' she said.
'What?'
'In the Lloyd's Weekly News. Listen to this. 'Miss Maisie Robinson, formerly Miriam Rabinowicz. If Miss Robinson will contact Messrs. Goldman and Jay, Solicitors, at Gray's Inn, she will learn something to her advantage.' It must be you!'
Maisie's heart beat faster, but she made her expression stern and her voice cold. 'It's Hugh,' she said. 'I'll not go.'
April looked disappointed. 'You might have inherited money from a long-lost relation.'
'I might be the Queen of Mongolia, but I'll not walk all the way to Gray's Inn on the off-chance.' She was managing to sound flippant, but her heart ached. She thought about Hugh every day and every night, and she was miserable. She hardly knew him, but it was impossible to forget him.
Nevertheless she was determined to try. She knew he had been searching for her. He had been at the Argyll Rooms every night, he had badgered Sammles the stable owner, and he had inquired for her at half the cheap lodging houses in London. Then the inquiries had ceased, and Maisie assumed he had given up. Now it seemed he had merely changed his tactics, and was trying to reach her with newspaper advertisements. It was very hard to continue to avoid him when he was searching so persistently for her and she wanted so badly to see him again. But she had made her decision. She loved him too much to ruin him.
She put her arms into her corset. 'Help me with my stays,' she said to April.
April began pulling the laces. 'I've never had my name in the paper,' she said enviously. 'You have twice, now, if you count 'The Lioness' as a name.'
'And how much good has it done me? By God, I'm getting fat.'
April tied the laces and helped her into her gown. They were going out tonight. April had a new lover, a middle-aged magazine editor with a wife and six children in Clapham. This evening he and a friend were taking April and Maisie to a music hall.
Between now and then they would walk along Bond Street and stare into the windows of fashionable shops. They would not buy anything. In order to hide from Hugh, Maisie had been obliged to give up working for Sammles--much to Sammles's regret, for she had sold five horses and a pony-and-trap--and the money she had saved was rapidly running out. But they had to go out, regardless of the weather: it was too depressing to stay in the room.
Maisie's gown was tight across her breasts and she winced as April did it up. April gave her a curious look and said: 'Are your nipples sore?'
'Yes, they are--I wonder why?'
'Maisie,' said April in a worried tone, 'when did you last have the curse?'
'I never keep count.' Maisie thought for a moment, and a chill descended on her. 'Oh, dear God,' she said.
'When?'
'I think it was before we went to the races at Goodwood. Do you think I'm pregnant?'
'Your waist is bigger and your nipples hurt and you haven't had the curse for two months--yes, you're pregnant,' April said in an exasperated voice. 'I can't believe you've been so stupid. Who was it?'
'Hugh, of course. But we only did it once. How can you get pregnant from one fuck?'
'You always get pregnant from one fuck.'
'Oh, my God.' Maisie felt as if she had been hit by a train. Shocked, bewildered and frightened, she sat down on the bed and began to cry. 'What am I going to do?' she said helplessly.
'We could go to that lawyer's office, for a start.'
Suddenly everything was different.
At first Maisie was scared and angry. Then she realized that she was now obliged to get in touch with Hugh, for the sake of the child inside her. And when she admitted this to herself she felt more glad than frightened. She was longing to see him again. She had convinced herself that it would be wrong to. But the baby made everything different. Now it was her duty to contact Hugh, and the prospect made her weak with relief.
All the same she was nervous as she and April climbed the steep staircase to the lawyer's rooms at Gray's Inn. The advertisement might not have been placed by Hugh. It would hardly be surprising if he had given up the search for her. She had been as discouraging as a girl could, and no man would carry the torch forever. The advertisement might be something to do with her parents, if they were still alive. Perhaps things had begun to go well for them at last, and they had the money to search for her. She was not sure how she felt about that. There had been many times when she had longed to see Mama and Papa again, but she was afraid they would be ashamed of her way of life.
They reached the top of the stairs and entered the outer office. The lawyer's clerk was a young man wearing a mustard-colored waistcoat and a condescending smile. The girls were wet and bedraggled,
