Читать книгу Far To Go - Noel Streatfeild - Страница 8

Sarah and Margaret travelled to London after dark so that no member of the company would see them go. The station was quite near the hall where the Fortescue company was playing Maria Martin or The Murder in the Red Barn. It was always popular and, such scenery as there was, easy to set on the stage, so they usually opened a season with it. There was no part in the play for Margaret so no one would miss her, but Sarah’s and Margaret’s hearts beat very fast as they crept out of their lodgings and down the village street. When they reached the station they hid behind the shed where left luggage was stored but, even so, and though it was not likely any member of the company would come to the station at that time of night, they clung to each other, jumping at every sound.

When at last they were safely in an empty carriage and the train was chugging out of the station, Sarah let out a breath so held in that, as it came out, her jet necklace rattled.

‘It’s not that I think what we’re doing is wrong,’ she whispered. ‘I mean, Mr Fortescue couldn’t have stopped us going if we wanted to.’

Margaret agreed. ‘Of course it’s not you, it’s me. I don’t suppose I can leave just when I want to, I’m only a student and I did sign a paper.’

‘Well, we needn’t trouble about that now,’ said Sarah hopefully. ‘I can’t see Mr Fortescue going to the police, he never would.’

‘Well, he can’t if he wants to, he doesn’t know where I’ve gone. Funny, I always seem to be running away. Did I tell you about escaping on the canal?’

‘You did, I don’t know how many times, and I’m not going to hear it now. We’re going to settle down and have a sleep, for we have walking to do when we get to London.’

London, even in the evening, seemed very crowded to Margaret. The traffic was almost all horse-drawn, and to Margaret, crouching against Sarah for safety, it seemed as if at any moment everything would spill on to the pavement, especially the great carts filled to overflowing with garden produce making their way to Covent Garden. And as for the people! It seemed as if all Londoners went out walking at night. Margaret was to learn to love London in all its moods, but that night she was tired, and the unexpected rush and roar were too much for her. Not that she complained, she would never do that, but she did tremble, and Sarah, in spite of her thick full skirt and innumerable petticoats, felt this and sympathized and took, for her, a world-shaking decision.

‘We’ll take a cab to Lou’s,’ she said.

The cab, when at last they got one, smelt of hay, for a sackful was under the seat for the horse’s dinner, but after the noise in the street, to Margaret it was pure paradise. However, she did not overlook her arrangement with Sarah.

‘Don’t forget to add what this costs to what I owe you, Mrs Beamish.’

Sarah smiled. ‘When you have work we’ll fix everything,’ she said comfortably. ‘There’s one thing I’ve been thinking of, though – you’d better call me Sarah from now on. You see, all Lou’s friends just call her Lou and they will call me Sarah. You see, Mrs is just what I call myself, like many do in the profession when they are not so young as they were.’

‘Is it far to Lou’s house, Sarah?’ Margaret asked, emphasizing the name.

‘No, dear, it’s near Covent Garden. That’s where the fruit and that is going. It’s a big market. But you told me you’d been to London before, so you must remember Covent Garden.’

In the darkness Margaret blushed. She knew that sometimes she exaggerated to make a better story.

‘I have, but I didn’t stay the night. You see, Hannah, the one who brought me up after the vicar found me on the church steps …’

‘With three of everything of the very best quality,’ Sarah quoted.

‘That’s right,’ Margaret agreed. ‘Well, she had to bring me to London to the third-class waiting room at Paddington Station. There a terrible woman from the orphanage met us.’

‘So that’s all of London you’ve ever seen?’

‘That’s right,’ said Margaret.

Sarah took one of Margaret’s hands in hers. ‘Now don’t worry, love, we’ll soon be at Lou’s and, if I know her, she’ll have taken the time off to welcome us and there’ll be tripe and onions for supper and, until you’ve tasted Lou’s tripe and onions, you haven’t lived.’

Afterwards Margaret could not remember much about the arrival at Lou’s. She remembered climbing innumerable stairs, at the top of which stood Lou. She was very like Sarah but twice as fat. She remembered the smell of tripe and onions which filled Lou’s room at the top of the stairs, and she remembered Lou and Sarah hugging each other while Lou said: ‘A card’s come, they’re seeing her tomorrow,’ and shoved a card into Margaret’s hands. On it Margaret read:

DOLPHIN THEATRE

Mr Thomas Smith will see Miss Margaret Thursday on Tuesday next at 11.30 a.m.