Herald Of Death

her eyes as Pansy rushed over to her, scattering the group of children waiting for their cue.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lansfield, really I am.” Pansy fought back tears. “I had to clear all the tables and set them up again and-”

Doris laid a slender hand on her arm. “It’s all right, Pansy. Really. I was a maid here once, and I know what it’s like. I’m just happy you are here now, and please, call me Doris.”

Pansy could have hugged her. “Thank you so much, Mrs… Doris. I’ll get the next costume ready right away.”

A loud rapping on the door turned both their heads. “You’re on, Wendy,” a male voice announced.

Pansy recognized him as one of the footmen working backstage. “She’s coming,” she called out.

Doris got up and hurried over to the door. “Thanks, Pansy.” She flashed a smile that dazzled Pansy so much it made her blink.

The door closed behind the songstress, and Pansy turned her attention to the row of costumes. Behind her, the children chattered with excitement, and Phoebe’s dance group huddled together in a corner discussing something that caused eruptions of giggles.

Pansy felt a warm glow of immense satisfaction. She loved being part of it all, being backstage to see the performers getting ready and then coming back to talk about how it was out there onstage.

What a thrilling life it must be for people like Doris, who had performed in front of huge crowds in the West End. It had to be the most exciting thing in the whole world.

Caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t hear her name called until one of the dancers poked her in the ribs. Turning, she was surprised to see Phoebe standing in the doorway, flapping her hands, the wide brim of her hat flopping up and down in her agitation.

“Pansy, for heaven’s sake, child. I need you onstage. Tinker Bell is sick, and I need someone to take her place.”

Pansy’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Now, child, now. Get into the costume and be out there in five minutes.”

She started to turn away but paused when Pansy cried out, “I can’t be Tinker Bell.”

Phoebe turned back, hands on her hips. “Why not?”

“I’ve never been onstage before.”

“Well, there’s always a first time.”

Again she turned away, only to be brought up short by Pansy’s agonized protest. “But I don’t know the part.”

Once more Phoebe faced her. “You don’t have to know the part. Tinker Bell doesn’t have any lines. I’ll talk you through the dress rehearsals and the other actors will prompt you for the performance. Don’t worry, child. You’ll manage beautifully. Now get into costume.”

“But what about Doris? I’m supposed to be her dresser.”

“You can dress each other.”

“But-”

Phoebe turned back again, her voice rising to yell, “That’s enough buts! You are the only one scrawny enough to fly on those wires. Now, either you take the part or we cancel the entire production!”

Howls of protest filled the room, and dozens of eyes glared at Pansy. She opened her mouth to say something but Phoebe had already disappeared.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” One of the dancers rushed over to her and grabbed the glittering costume from its hanger.

As if in a dream, Pansy felt the smooth white satin slipping over her head. The costume left more of her arms and legs exposed than she’d ever allowed before, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter.

One of the dancers painted her face while another placed a sparkling tiara on her head and attached wings to her back with a heavy brace. Someone else helped her into the harness that would take her flying across the stage.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Pansy couldn’t recognize herself. Surely this radiant creature couldn’t possibly be her. This was all a dream, and any minute now she was going to wake up and find herself lying on her cot in the maids’ quarters.

Oh, if only Samuel could see her now! It might just be enough to make him forget about Doris. Maybe he’d even be so impressed he’d finally tell her he loved her.

Another loud rapping on the door shattered her thoughts. “Tinker Bell! You’re on!”

One of the dancers gave her a little push. “Go on, luv. Break a leg!”

Pansy gave her a horrified look. “That’s a nasty thing to say!”

The other dancers laughed, and one of the children piped up, “It’s what actors say for good luck.”

“Oh. All right, then. Thank you.” Stumbling out the door, Pansy felt a momentous wave of panic. What did she know about performing onstage? She was going to make a complete and utter fool of herself up there.

She had to fly, for goodness’ sake! What if she fell off and really did break a leg? Her Christmas would be ruined, and the pantomime would have to be canceled, and everyone would blame her for being such a clumsy twerp.

She reached the edge of the stage and heard Peter and Wendy speaking their lines.

“She’s hiding in here somewhere,” Peter said, bounding toward the fake sideboard.

Frozen to the spot, Pansy watched helplessly as Peter opened a drawer and peered inside. Someone behind her fiddled with her harness, but she paid no attention, her mind a complete blank. Then she felt a sharp shove in the back and all of a sudden she was lifted off the floor.

Letting out a yell, she flailed her arms and legs, which tipped her upside down. Her tiara fell off as she swooped across the stage, her screams echoing up to the rafters.

“Let her down!” Phoebe yelled from somewhere out front. “Get her down, now!”

Pansy shut her eyes as the floor came up to meet her. Someone caught her and held her tight until her feet touched the floor. Opening her eyes, Pansy saw Doris’s anxious face.

“Goodness, are you all right?”

Pansy grinned. “I’m fine.” With that she closed her eyes again and gave up to the darkness sweeping over her.

Still mulling over her conversation with Madeline that morning, Cecily decided to go down to the ballroom to see how the rehearsals were coming along. Perhaps if she gave her mind a rest she could eventually understand what her instincts were telling her.

Besides, she was anxious to see her godchildren performing onstage, and this would be a good excuse to peek in on them.

Crossing the foyer, she was too late to avoid the colonel, who was apparently on his way to the bar, as usual.

“Hello, there, old girl!” He put a hand up to his head, apparently forgetting he had already removed his hat. “Looks like the snow’s disappearing, what?”

“It does, indeed, Colonel. The weather is warming up at last.”

“Jolly good show. It was dashed cold out there in the woods, I can tell you. All that snow about.”

“I’m sure it was.” Cecily edged closer to the hallway. “I’m just on my way to the dress rehearsal, so if you will excuse me…”

“I just hope I don’t run into any more pheasants out there. I should have had my shotgun with me. A blasted sword is no good for killing pheasants, you know. They move too fast.”

Nodding, Cecily backed away. “I believe they have a new delivery of scotch in the bar. I’m sure you would enjoy-”

The colonel didn’t even bother to answer her. With a brief salute he was off and running, leaving her free to continue on to the ballroom.

She reached there just in time to see Tinker Bell buckle at the knees and fall to the floor.

“I told them not to hook her up to the wires yet,” Phoebe exclaimed, as Doris knelt by the prone figure. “She needs to be taught how to fly. I was going to have Clive show her after rehearsal.” She clasped her hands together. “This is all the fault of those incompetent footmen.”