The dog looked up, and on reaching the door sat at the side of it.
‘You didn’t get into a fight wi’ Deakin, did you?’ Peggy asked when he went in and she helped him off with his coat.
‘Me! No, that’s not my way, you should know that, Peggy Robinson,’ he grinned. ‘Where’s young feller-me-lad?’
‘He’s taken some stuff upstairs; he’s desperate to have ’small front bedroom so that he can see ’estuary from ’window, but I think he’s rather scared that he’s caused trouble wi’ Deakin. He told me that Louisa said that all ’young bairns in ’village are frightened of him.’
‘They needn’t be,’ he said. ‘Not now he’s had a warning.’
‘Why, what did you tell him?’ Peggy stood anxiously with a thick cloth in her hand, ready to take something from the oven.
‘Oh, nowt much.’ Aaron parked himself in a chair by the fire. ‘Onny that I’d tip him into ’Humber if I should hear a whisper of his laying a finger on any other bairn. If anybody’s scared it’ll be him, especially if he thinks that ’other shrimpers might get to hear about what he’s been up to.’
Robin slowly opened the door into the kitchen and looked cautiously at Aaron.
‘Ah!’ Aaron said. ‘I nearly forgot. Just open ’back door, will you, Robin? I left summat on doorstep. I hope it’s still there.’
‘It’s a dog,’ Robin called out as he opened the door. ‘Shall I let him in?’
‘We don’t have dogs in ’house,’ Peggy began, then as the dog came trotting towards the fire said, ‘That’s Deakin’s dog, isn’t it?’
‘Aye, I believe it is. He must have followed me.’ Aaron bent to fondle the dog’s ears. ‘We’ll let him out in ’morning and see if he wants to go home.’
‘What was that about?’ Mrs Deakin drew the door curtain tight. ‘What did he want?’
‘Nothing much.’ Davis Deakin took his usual place by the fire. ‘The old gaffer was crewnting and complaining that I’d whopped one of his lads.’
‘They don’t have any lads, only little lassies.’
‘His nephew or some such.’ He cleared his throat and spat into the fire. ‘I don’t know, nor do I care. I ain’t afeared of him.’
‘Better watch out, though. I wouldn’t put it past him to get the police.’
She was worried. He shouldn’t hit anybody else’s children. Bad enough to hit their own, and if the police came there could be trouble.
‘The dog’s quiet,’ she said.
He didn’t answer, and reached for his pipe.
Delia’s small amount of money was running out. The payment she had made for her lodgings would only last until the final week of January. She decided she would call on Mr Rogers at the theatre to ask if he definitely had a role for her once the pantomime was finished.
‘Oh, Miss Delamour,’ he said, when she dropped by after a matinee. ‘I was hoping that you might come in. Mr Dawson suggested that you might be interested in a proposal.’
‘Oh? What kind of proposal?’
‘Our leading lady, Cinderella, has been told that she must rest her voice as she has laryngitis. It’s a very long pantomime, as you know, and she has several numbers which are too taxing for her. She can manage the speaking parts but her voice isn’t strong enough to carry for the whole performance. It keeps breaking up. I really don’t know what to do, as it will be impossible to find another performer to take on the role at this late stage.’
He looked exceedingly worried and she appreciated his dilemma, but she didn’t see how she could help. ‘I’ve never played in pantomime,’ she told him, ‘and I think that I’m too old for the part in any case.’
She looked round as a swarm of children headed past her towards the auditorium.
‘Those are local children who are playing the village children,’ he explained.
She laughed. ‘What, all of them?’
‘Yes, about fifty of them. That’s as many as we can accommodate on stage. Miss Delamour, would you be interested?’ He clasped his hands together. ‘Not to play the part, but to sing?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Cinderella – Miss Stannard, that is – would mouth the words and you would stand in the wings and sing. You have a good carrying voice. You would both have to rehearse, of course, so that it would appear that she was singing, but I’m sure it could be done. It was Mr Dawson’s idea and I thought it an excellent one.’
Oh, bless him, she thought. He’s saved my life again.
‘We have many special effects,’ he went on. ‘Lighting, and mirrors, and we can darken the stage where appropriate so that the audience won’t guess that it isn’t Miss Stannard singing. What do you think?’
‘Well …’ She hesitated. ‘I suppose …’
‘And of course we would pay you the same rate as if you were top of the bill.’
‘Well, why not?’ She smiled. ‘It might be rather fun, and it would be something quite different for me. Would my name be in the programme?’
He rubbed his fingers over his stubby beard. ‘I’m afraid the programme and posters are out already, of course, as the show is under way. Perhaps at the end of the final show we might introduce you … or perhaps offer you some kind of recompense?’
She hesitated a second or two before saying, ‘Of course. I quite understand. It would be awkward for Miss Stannard, too. Yes, we’ll work something out between us, Mr Rogers. When would you like me to start?’
He gazed at her, took a breath, and said, ‘Tonight?’
When she agreed, he took her hand. ‘Miss Delamour. You’ve saved the show!’
She went back to the lodging house immediately to change into something warm for rehearsal. Giles was just leaving for the theatre, and she thanked him profusely for his suggestion. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I was so worried about what to do next.’
‘I’ve
