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

what the toffs call a long weekend. You, me, and the box of chocolates GI Joe sent to the hospital. Where are they? You haven’t eaten them, have you?’ Seeing her husband wasn’t sharing the joke, Margot said, ‘Now what’s the matter?’

‘It isn’t going to be just you and me.’ Margot opened her mouth to protest. ‘Let me finish,’ Bill said, putting his forefinger to her lips. ‘I’d like you to go home.’

‘I am home.’

‘To Foxden.’

Margot let her head fall backwards to rest on the settee. ‘I don’t want to go to Foxden. I want to stay here with you.’

‘Just hear me out. I think it would do you good to get away from the bombs and the memories. The doctor said you need rest and fresh air and you’ll get plenty of both at Foxden.’

‘And our mam saying, “I told you so!”’

Bill helped Margot out of the cab at Euston, paid the driver and took the cases. With the aid of the walking stick, Margot made her way into the station and Bill followed. A newspaper vendor selling the Daily Mail was shouting, ‘Margot Dudley has left hospital! Miss Dudley whisked away to secret hideaway.’ Bill stopped to buy a paper.

‘Miss Dudley? It is Margot Dudley, isn’t it?’ a young woman called, before walking in front of Margot and blocking her path.

Margot looked round for Bill.

‘Miss Dudley, look this way, please?’ There was a sudden flash, which made Margot jump. ‘Would you like to say something to your fans?’ a man shouted.

‘Over here, Miss,’ shouted a second man. ‘How did you feel when you saw your friends dead in the street? Do you feel any remorse, or guilt, because you survived when Miss Jewel was killed?’

‘Your friend told us that if she hadn’t delayed you on the Strand, you would have been outside the theatre when the roof collapsed and you would have been killed too.’

‘Do you have anything to say to the friend who saved your life?’ the woman added.

‘What friend? Who said that?’ Margot’s head was spinning. Another flash bulb went off, temporarily blinding her. ‘Stop it!’ she shouted. The newspaper reporters were circling her like vultures – shooting questions at her. She felt dizzy, nauseous, and her ankle was throbbing. ‘Please!’ she gasped, leaning heavily on her walking stick. ‘Where’s Bill? I can’t breathe. Please, would you find my husband? Bill!’

‘What the hell’s going on?’ Bill shouted. ‘Get out of here,’ he said, pushing one reporter and catching another on the chin. With a look of utter surprise the man staggered backwards and overbalanced, ending up on the floor. ‘Can’t you see my wife isn’t well?’ A woman reporter stepped over the man on the floor. She took a notebook from her pocket. ‘For the record, Miss Dudley is going to spend some time on the coast with friends,’ Bill lied. ‘She would appreciate some privacy to grieve for her friends while she recovers from her injuries.’

The reporters stood back and let Margot and Bill pass. Someone shouted, ‘Get well soon, Margot.’ Another called out, ‘We look forward to your return, Miss Dudley.’ And a third, ‘We didn’t mean to… ’

Margot nodded that she understood they meant well. Bill put his arm round her shoulders protectively and they moved slowly through the crowd. ‘Come on, darling. Let’s get you to the train.’

Margot pulled up the collar on her coat and looked down, hoping no one would recognise her among the queues of people on the platform, but they did. First one and then another called, “Margot?” and “Hope you’re feeling better soon.” “Get well, Margot.” Someone ran in front of her with a camera. Shortly afterwards there was a flash. Margot put her hand up to shield her eyes.

‘Stop that!’ Bill shouted. The man ran away, but another took his place.

‘Miss Dudley?’ he called. ‘I’m from the West London Gazette. Could you say something to our readers, please?’ There was another flash and Margot put her hand up again.

Bill let go of Margot’s arm and stepped between her and the reporter, snatching the camera from him. ‘If you want this damn thing back, you’ll find it in lost property.’

The photographer began to protest, but the crowd of onlookers clapped and cheered.

Margot turned to Bill, touched by the crowd’s obvious love for her, and said, ‘It’s all right, Bill, let him take a picture.’

Bill returned the camera to the reporter and while Margot smiled at the sympathetic faces in the crowd, he took his photograph. ‘Thank you, Miss Dudley.’

Bill took her by the arm again and, walking as fast as she was able, Margot smiled and thanked people as they moved to make way for her and Bill to cross the platform. Her ankle was not only throbbing, it had swollen to twice its original size. But with Bill on one side of her and the platform attendant now on the other, she mounted the steps of the train. ‘Can you manage?’ Bill asked. Margot stood to one side and let him pass. Then she shook the hand of the platform attendant and waved goodbye to the crowd, who were shouting get well wishes.

Margot hobbled into the first class compartment and fell onto the seat, while Bill shut the door and pulled down the blind.

‘Damn parasites!’ he fumed, lifting Margot’s cases onto the overhead rack. ‘We could have missed the train because of those damn reporters.’

‘You can’t blame them,’ Margot said. ‘They were only doing their job. A few weeks ago I’d have been grateful for the attention, courted it even. I’d have stood and posed for ten minutes if they’d asked me.’

‘That may be true, but today they could see you weren’t well.’

As the train pulled out of the station Margot glanced out of the window. A piece of white material – paper or fabric, she