‘It’s cos we’re thin,’ Miss Saunders said. ‘We haven’t got your lovely shape. Look at me.’ She opened her arms wide. ‘No bosom to speak of and straight up and down.’
Miriam nodded in agreement, and Delia was saying that they should all gratefully accept what had been given to them when someone knocked on the door. ‘Somebody waiting to see you at ’stage door, Miss Delamour,’ the call boy announced. ‘Says that she knows you.’
There’s no one here who knows me, Delia thought in sudden panic; it must be a member of the audience saying it just to be sure of seeing me. She had given autographs numerous times in Brighton, though rarely in London, but here? Perhaps audiences in Hull liked to meet the performers.
‘Tell her I’m just changing,’ she called back. ‘I won’t be long.’
She unpinned the false curls and quickly removed her stage make-up and dressed in her normal clothes, then picked up the picture postcards that she gave out to admirers and headed for the open stage door which led on to the street. Sitting inside on a wooden chair was a young woman with her back to her, and her coat collar turned up.
‘Hello,’ Delia said brightly. ‘Are you waiting to see me?’
The woman turned. She was wearing a neat hat and a warm scarf. ‘Dorothy? It is you, isn’t it?’
Delia took in a breath. Beneath the hat was a smiling oval face and red hair. ‘Jenny?’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Jenny!’
They both opened their arms to embrace the other. ‘How lovely to see you! How I’ve missed you.’
CHAPTER TEN
It was just after ten o’clock, and Jenny suggested that they go to a small respectable hotel that she knew close by where they could be served with refreshments.
‘It’s a decent place, owned by a local woman and her family. Her husband is a doctor, and they make sure that it’s quite safe for women on their own,’ she told Delia. ‘It’s been here for years and I often use it for meeting friends. And they’ll order a cab for me when I’m ready to go home.’
‘That’s very reassuring,’ Delia said, and they walked arm in arm as they used to when they were young girls coming home from school.
The Maritime Hotel was well maintained, with areas of comfortable furnishings where small groups of people could gather for conversation, quite separate from the bar and restaurant.
‘Miss Robinson. Good evening! How nice to see you again.’ A young manager greeted them. ‘Have you been to the theatre? I hear there’s an excellent new show.’
‘Indeed there is.’ Jenny smiled. ‘And here is the star of it. Miss Delia Delamour!’ She introduced him to Delia. ‘This is Mr Gosling.’
‘Delighted to meet you, Miss Delamour.’ The young man bowed politely. ‘Welcome to the Maritime Hotel. Please,’ he indicated a comfy sofa. ‘Won’t you be seated and allow me to offer you refreshments, compliments of the Maritime?’
They both ordered a glass of red wine and a sandwich and sat back with a sigh.
‘Tell me about yourself,’ Delia began, just as Jenny said exuberantly, ‘It’s so lovely to see you. Where have you been all of these years? You just disappeared!’
Delia nodded and stretched the truth. ‘I did. I was so unhappy that I decided to leave. It was at the time when you’d gone away to York.’
‘Yes, it was,’ Jenny agreed. ‘I’d finally convinced my father that I wanted a career in teaching, and he agreed, at last, that I could continue with my education. My mother was all for it but he’d been afraid to let me go away; you remember what a softie he is?’
Delia smiled wistfully. ‘I do.’ So unlike her own father, she thought.
‘But why didn’t you wait until I came back? My mother told me that you had called, looking for me. Or why didn’t you write to me? She would have given you my address. We could have discussed why you were unhappy. You never said; why didn’t you?’
‘I couldn’t.’ Delia remembered the time so well, probably much better than Jenny did. ‘I ran away. My parents … well, I never did have much freedom, as you’ll recall.’ She knew she would have to give a plausible story. I can’t tell her everything, she thought. She would then have to take sides.
Jenny frowned. ‘I wish you’d told me. I’d thought for quite a few weeks before I left that you seemed quiet, as if something was troubling you. I was so full of myself and the plans I had,’ she said regretfully. ‘So you decided to just leave and prove yourself?’
Delia nodded. ‘Something like that,’ she hedged. ‘I didn’t want to end up as the family drudge.’ She was relieved to see the supper being brought to the table.
‘I’m not sure if I can think of you as Delia,’ Jenny mused. ‘I suppose it’s more suitable for stars of the theatre than Dorothy Deakin?’
‘I was sometimes called Dolly,’ Delia reminded her. ‘But I felt that Dolly was more music hall than variety theatre, and a friend I met suggested Delia and I liked the sound of it. So I became Delia Delamour, and Dorothy Deakin has gone for ever.’
‘I can see that.’ Jenny nodded. ‘You are more self-assured than you used to be, and …’ She paused. ‘You’re lovely. You looked beautiful up on the stage; and you’ve shed that nervousness you had when we were children.’
Delia smiled faintly. Wise and clever Jenny really didn’t know her at all, and never had.
Jenny was silent for a moment, sipping her wine, and then asked, ‘So do your parents know what you’re doing or of the change of name?’
Delia heaved a deep breath. ‘They don’t know and wouldn’t want to. They are not in the least interested in me or what I’m doing. I’ve written …’ She shrugged, leaving the rest unspoken.
‘I’m very sorry,’ Jenny murmured.
