‘I’ll get off, I think,’ Giles said bluntly. ‘You’ve probably much to talk about with your … friend. Will you be all right to get back to Mrs Benson’s, Miss Delamour?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘I will, but I’d like to speak to you. Much has been happening, as I expect it has for you too.’
He hesitated, and then murmured, ‘All right, I’ll stay. Thank you, Mr Crawshaw, I will avail myself of your hospitality.’
Crawshaw had the hotel staff running hither and thither at his command. He told them to be sure they gave him a good room and to make certain there was plenty of hot water for his bath. Delia asked for a pot of tea, and Arthur commented wryly that he could tell she hadn’t taken to drink since coming north; Jenny asked for a glass of port purely because he had suggested sherry; and the two men ordered whisky. Then they all settled back in their chairs, and Arthur turned to Delia.
‘Now then, m’dear. Where is young Jack, and why did you come haring up to this godforsaken place?’
‘It isn’t a godforsaken place,’ Delia answered. ‘It’s an old town with lots of theatres and music halls; and,’ she added, ‘with kind and friendly people. Where are you playing?’
‘I’m not,’ he said, stretching out his legs. ‘I’m finished with all of that – for the time being anyway. But you haven’t answered my question. Where is Jack?’
‘Jack has changed his name,’ she parried. ‘He’s Robin now.’
‘Ah!’ he exclaimed. ‘I told him he should if he really didn’t like being called Jack. Defy your father and refuse your name.’
Jenny looked curiously at them. ‘Was that really why he changed it? He didn’t like to be called Jack?’
Delia shook her head. ‘Jack Robinson,’ she said. ‘Because people teased him about Before you can say Jack Robinson. Nothing more than that, Jenny.’ She hesitated, and then said, ‘He didn’t know his father was called Jack Robinson. Still doesn’t.’ It had been a perverse act on her part to name him after the man who had sired him. She had been young and angry. Now she was older she knew better. The name was a constant reminder.
‘So where is he?’ Arthur persisted. ‘You haven’t abandoned him?’
Delia looked horrified. ‘No!’ she said. ‘No,’ and then she burst into tears and fished about in her pocket for a handkerchief. ‘Yes,’ she sobbed. ‘I did. But I’ve been to see him. He’s staying with his father’s parents, in the village where I once lived. They are Jenny’s parents too. Jenny is his aunt.’
Giles leaned forward and handed her a clean handkerchief, and she gave a watery laugh as she took it. ‘I must buy you a box of handkerchiefs. I am constantly using yours.’
‘Delia,’ he said quietly, ‘are you sure that you want to discuss this now?’
‘Yes,’ she said, taking a deep intake of breath. ‘I’m with friends I can trust,’ and as she said it she was immediately comforted. There had been times in her life when she had no one in whom to confide. ‘Although I’m sorry to burden you all.’ She wiped her eyes and cheeks and again could smell the refreshing cologne Giles used. She saw the look of concern on his face. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so upset. Robin is safe; he’s with his grandparents, who love him, and I never ever thought I would be able to say that.’
‘That’s wonderful, m’dear,’ Arthur said kindly. ‘I’m so very pleased, although I will miss seeing him. I’ll write to him, if I may?’
‘He would love that, Arthur.’ Tears began to flow again. ‘He told me that he wished he could write to you and tell you what a good time he was having.’
Arthur nodded. ‘So you can begin your life again, travel more and not worry about him,’ and Delia was sure that he glanced at Giles as he spoke. ‘He will understand, he’s a sensible boy.’
After chatting for a while, they broke up. Everyone seemed tired and Giles asked the porter to get a cab for him and Delia for the short distance to their lodgings, and Jenny chimed in to ask him to order one for herself to Pearson Park.
Arthur insisted that she shouldn’t travel alone, no matter that it was a Sunday evening and probably quiet in the town, and that he would be happy to escort her to her home. ‘Miss Delamour will vouch for my morals, I’m sure,’ he added, and Jenny quickly acquiesced, which Delia thought wasn’t at all like her fiercely independent friend.
Arthur asked Delia to meet him for lunch the next day, as he had things to discuss with her. There wasn’t a matinee and she willingly agreed. He shook hands with Giles and said that he had been pleased to meet him and hoped that they might catch up again; he seemed to want to add more, but the first cab arrived and he kissed Delia on both cheeks, saying, ‘Goodnight, Delia. Until tomorrow.’
As he and Jenny waited for the second cab, he said, ‘Dawson seems like a decent fellow. Is – does Delia know him well?’
Jenny gazed at him with interest. ‘I understand that she met him when she first arrived in Hull; that would be back in November. He’s a married man, in case you were wondering,’ she said slyly.
‘Oh! That’s a great pity,’ he said, to her astonishment. ‘I thought he seemed rather taken by her. I worry about her, you know.’
‘Do you? Yet you were not able to find her. I thought perhaps you hadn’t looked very hard.’
A grin crossed his face. ‘You have a sharp wit, Miss Robinson.’ He took her arm as the porter came to tell them the cab had arrived. ‘I like that in a woman. You remind me of my mother.’
She wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed at the comparison, but was mollified
