Applause (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 2) by Madalyn Morgan (best authors to read txt) 📕

Margot followed the old man into his office and perched on the arm of his chair.

George and Betsy were next to come down. ‘Bye, Bert,’ George called, heading for the stage door. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Night-night, lovely,’ Betsy said, sticking her head through the small window of Bert’s office and blowing him a kiss. ‘Margot? Why are you still here? Not going to the club tonight?’

George turned at the sound of Margot’s name and followed Betsy into Bert’s office. ‘What’s going on?’

Margot confided that she and Bert had seen Goldie’s Nazi boyfriend. ‘He’s gone now, but he was standing in the alley staring at the stage door.’

George’s brow furrowed. ‘I’m surprised he’s still hanging around. I thought he’d got the message after coming in here and threatening Bert.’

‘He did what?’

Bert waved his hand dismissively. ‘It was something and nothing.’

‘Come on, Bert. We said we’d look after each other, and that means you too.’

‘He came in earlier in the week, just after the show came down. He asked if Goldie was here. I didn’t say she was; I said if she hadn’t left already, she’d be down when she’d changed. He went, but he’d know if he was watching the stage door that she didn’t come down.’ George looked perplexed. ‘And,’ Bert said, ‘he came in the next night, asked for Miss Goldie again, and I told him the same thing. I busied myself with some drawer tidying, so as I didn’t have to talk to him. I don’t think he was fooled by my domestic chores, because when I turned to see what he was doing, he made a fist of his right hand and punched the palm of his left hand.’

‘How dare he threaten you? The damn bully!’

‘He dare all right. The last time was after you’d all gone. He didn’t say a word, he just stood over there.’ Bert pointed to the window at the side of the stage door. ‘I asked him to leave. I told him that I had to hand the keys over to Arthur, the night watchman, and I couldn’t do that until I’d checked the dressing rooms, made sure everyone had left. He laughed. “Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll check them for you.” “No you won’t!” I said. “Get out, or I’ll call the police.”’

‘What did he do?’

‘He came right up to me and laughed in my face. He made that fist again and said, “Tell her I’ll be waiting – and when she least expects it!” Then he left, slamming the door behind him. I was shaking when he’d gone, I don’t mind telling you.’

‘Was that the last you saw of him until tonight?’ Margot asked.

‘No, I saw him sitting in his car on Butte Street. I expect he was there because Miss Goldie used to walk that way home – if he didn’t fetch her.’

‘Thank God he doesn’t know it’s me up there on stage,’ Margot said. The sound of a motorbike engine attracted her attention. ‘That’s Bill. I’d better go.’ Saying goodnight to George and Betsy, Margot followed them out. ‘Lock the door after us, Bert, and put the bolt on.’

‘Will do.’

As Bill pulled up outside the stage door, Margot waved goodnight. Returning the wave Bert went into the theatre and, Margot hoped, locked and bolted the door.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Margot thanked the bandleader and band and looked into the audience. She bowed again, and then put her hands to her mouth and blew a kiss. The audience were always generous with their applause, but tonight it seemed they were never going to stop. She took a final bow and was about to step down from the stage when she saw a man in a black leather coat standing at the bar. He wasn’t clapping. The room was smoky and the spotlight was on her, but she knew that hard face and those cold menacing eyes. She forced herself to smile but he didn't return the gesture; he just stared at her, his black eyes boring into hers, penetrating and threatening. She looked across the room to the table where Nancy and Salvatore were sitting and gave one short nod – the signal that Dave Sutherland, Goldie’s fascist boyfriend, was in the club. She glanced back at the bar. He was leaving. Salvatore jumped up, summoned two of his men, and followed him out.

The audience were still clapping as Margot stepped shakily from the stage. She walked through the tables, stopping occasionally to say hello or thank someone for a kind comment. At Nancy and Salvatore’s table she smiled broadly and took a final bow before sitting down.

‘Gone. Disappeared into the night,’ Salvatore said when he returned. ‘Was it him?’

Margot shuddered. ‘Yes! Who else would just stand there and glare at me like that?’

Salvatore beckoned a waiter and motioned to their empty glasses.

‘Have a drink, darling,’ Nancy said. ‘If Bill isn’t here in half an hour, Salvatore and I will take you home.’

Margot drank her champagne, followed by a second glass. Safe among friends, she began to feel better. Bill arrived twenty minutes later, by which time she had decided not to tell him that she’d seen Nazi Dave in the club. She didn’t want him to worry. Nor did she want him to stop her working there.

‘There’s a bouquet for Miss Dudley,’ Bert said to Nancy when she arrived for the evening show. ‘It was on that table when I came down from having tea with Mrs Horton. I don’t know how it got there. I could have sworn I locked the stage door.’ Bert picked the flowers up. ‘They’re wilting a bit.’

‘They’re wilting more than a bit, Bert. They look half dead. Not to