“Oh, but in London, you’re part of one never-ending performance, Evie. The curtain never comes down. Only for some it’s a farce and for others it’s a tragedy.”
Evelyn turned to Jos. “Which is it for you?”
A shadow passed over Jos’s expression for a moment. “A farce, most definitely. Perhaps even a pantomime.”
“I rather like the drama of it all,” Evelyn said.
“Oh, so do I. But sometimes you need the interval, so you can retire and relax and stop playing the part, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do.” With every thought and feeling Jos shared with her, Evelyn only wanted to understand her more.
“Well, Miss Hopkins, take your bow and we’ll go and see what’s behind the performance.”
Evelyn laughed lightly and bowed, as she was told, to the audience of empty chairs.
Jos watched Evelyn, smiling, thinking it odd how happy she felt in Evelyn’s company. Yes, Evelyn was unsophisticated and naive but she was also bright and thoughtful. Her natural beauty, unsullied by the usual artifice, seemed to glow. To Jos’s mind, Evelyn was more worthy of being centre stage than any other woman she’d met. But she could not act on it, could she?
Evelyn was very different to the other women Jos had been involved with. There had been flirtations, passionate affairs, there had even been something masquerading as love, but the women had always known exactly what they were getting themselves into. Most of them had attempted to seduce Jos before she’d even decided she was attracted to them. Now she felt that the pressure was on her shoulders, if anything was to be possible between her and Evelyn Hopkins.
Jos was not yet sure of the extent of Evelyn’s innocence but she was more than convinced that Evelyn’s experience of the world did not extend to romantic relations between women. Yet having her here, away from the distractions of the Yellow Orchid, her brother’s teasing, and Lilian’s irritating influence, it did not seem like such a leap to imagine she could woo Evelyn, that there might be some hope for something between them. She had not missed Evelyn’s sharp intake of breath when she had taken her hand a moment ago. The flush in her cheeks could only have one cause, really. And then there was Dorothy’s rather obvious attempt at matchmaking in the Orchid. She’d known Dorothy for long enough to understand exactly what the confounded woman’s intentions were. It wasn’t just Dorothy either. Clara and Courtney were convinced she’d made a favourable impression on Evelyn in their brief first meeting. She just had to be sure not to scare Evelyn by moving too fast. Or make promises she was not sure she could keep. Because she did not want to commit herself to anything, however attractive a woman might be.
Evelyn straightened from her bow and looked at Jos. If nothing else, Jos could make sure Evelyn saw her at her best, and go from there. The theatre was her natural environment, where she was most comfortable. And Evelyn seemed geuinely keen to see the place, happy to be here with her.
“Come on, we’ll go into the wings—I’ll show you the flats and the tunnel that takes you to the other wing. Then we’ve got the dressing rooms, and if you’re brave enough, we can go up there.” Jos pointed upward. Evelyn’s gaze followed her hand and into the area above the stage.
“I never knew there was anything up above a stage,” she said.
“Oh, it’s fascinating. But it is high and the stairs are steep.”
“I’d love to see it.”
Jos was pleased by Evelyn’s enthusiasm. She liked a woman with curiosity and Evelyn seemed to have plenty of it. “Fabulous. Then let’s go.”
Jos led Evelyn from the stage into the wings. Jos loved the way the false, bright world of the stage suddenly became the practical, grubby working space of the wings. This was where the magic spell was cast, creating the illusion of the stage. Of course, she’d been part of the illusion in her early days, more interested in the chance to don a costume and act a role than in the practical tasks that allowed it to happen. But much had changed in her life since then. Now she actively sought a life away from false dreams with day-to-day realism, sceptical about the superficial. She’d not entirely lost her sense of magic, however. Perhaps the spell would work on Evelyn.
Jos showed Evelyn the flats which made the scenery at the sides of the stage. Cut from thin wooden boarding, and painted in garish colours to represent the fairy-tale version of old London town, where the story of Dick Whittington, three times mayor, would play out. The painted houses were in the Tudor style, dark wooden beams and pink plasterwork, but with painted ivy leaves to soften them, the creeping vine flowering with exotic fantasy blooms, their petals edged with glitter to catch the lights of the stage. Close up, with the brushstrokes visible, it was difficult to get the full effect. Yet Evelyn was looking at them with apparent fascination.
“I’ve never been so close to the scenery before,” she said, running a finger over a place where the thick paint had real texture.
Jos watched that fingertip with an unexpected shiver of pleasure. “I painted this one myself,” she said, with no small amount of pride.
“Did you really?” Evelyn looked at Jos with excitement in her expression, and real admiration. Jos could not deny that to be admired and respected by Evelyn for her artistic skills, was something that seemed to fulfil a craving from deep inside her.
“Yes. Like I said, I do a bit of everything, but I love to paint and we’re lacking in painters. Some of the best were killed in the war, and it can take years to train anyone up to know what they’re doing. So I help out where I can. I do enjoy the pantomime scenery. You’re really creating
