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

When they’d finished someone shouted, ‘If ENSA stands for every night’s something awful, will you come back to us, Margot?’

‘No!’ she said, laughing, ‘Not if you’re going to be rude. We, the Albert Sisters, will be touring aerodromes, army bases, and factories, starting on Friday at the Foundry in Lowarth. And on Saturday night there is going to be a special concert here at Foxden Hall. Thank you!’ She left the hospital wing to the sound of cheers and calls for more, followed by a rendition of “For She’s A Jolly Good Fellow”.

Forgetting her ankle, Margot ran across the platform as Betsy leapt from the train. Hugging each other, the two friends squealed with delight. George waved briefly from the train’s open door before calling the porter to help her haul two large suitcases from the corridor onto the platform.

‘Costumes!’ George shouted, abandoning the cases when they were safely off the train, and joining Betsy and Margot.

When they had finished greeting each other, Margot remembered Bess was with her. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘This is my sister Bess. Bess, meet George Derby-Bloom and Betsy Evans, my best friends from the theatre.’

‘How do you do, Bess?’ George said.

‘Lovely to meet you,’ Betsy added.

Before Bess could reply, George said, ‘And this is Artie.’

Putting the two black cases he was carrying on the ground, he shook Bess’s hand. ‘Artie Armitage, at your disposal.’

Margot’s mouth fell open at the sight of the Prince Albert Theatre’s night watchman. ‘Arthur – I mean Artie. How nice to see you. I didn’t recognise you out of uniform.’ Artie held the lapels of his coat and waddled like Charlie Chaplin. They all laughed. Margot looked at George, her eyes wide and questioning.

‘Our pianist,’ George said.

Margot shook Artie’s hand and looked at the case at his feet. ‘Small piano.’

‘Don’t be absurd, darling, that’s Artie’s accordion. The other is his banjo.’

‘Of course. Silly me!’

‘Before the war Artie was a piano tuner and teacher. So, being too old for the services – sorry darling,’ George said, ‘when the children were evacuated and the upper classes stopped spending money having their pianos tuned, Artie came to work at the Prince Albert. Working as a night watchman gave him time to practise his music during the day.’

‘You weren’t the only one watching the shows from the wings, Miss,’ he said to Margot. ‘I was there too, on the other side of the stage.’

‘And we’re jolly pleased you were, darling.’ George turned her attention to Margot. ‘So my dear, Artie plays accordion and banjo, and he tickles the ivories superbly. He knows every number from the show and all the popular songs. Isn’t he wonderful?’

Margot nodded. ‘Yes, except we don’t have a piano. There’s a grand at the Hall, but Lady Foxden would never agree to it leaving the estate. We can use it for the show we do for the lads in the hospital wing, but our first public performance is in a factory in Lowarth – and we need to rehearse.’

‘The village hall at Woodcote has a piano,’ Bess said.

Margot threw her arms around her sister and kissed her. ‘Bess, you’re a genius! Why didn’t I think of that?’

George, Betsy and Artie looked from Margot to Bess. ‘Woodcote is just down the road from Foxden. I’m sure you’ll be able to use the piano. I might even know someone who will transport it to Lowarth for you. Especially if it’s professionally tuned after you’ve done with it,’ she said, winking at Artie. ‘Apart from Home Guard meetings, the hall’s rarely used. I’ll check with my father, see if it’s free for a couple of days. If it is you’ve got a rehearsal room.’ Bess looked at her wristwatch. ‘We’d better make a move.’

George picked up the larger of the two cases as Bess picked up the other.

‘How are we going to fit everything into your car?’ Betsy asked.

‘I thought we’d put my sister on the roof,’ Bess said.

Margot rolled her eyes. ‘Very funny! Mr Porter, who works with Bess on the estate, is here with the farm truck.’

‘I didn’t know how much luggage you’d have, so I thought it best to bring back-up.’

‘My sister thinks of everything.’

‘Not quite everything. I didn’t think about sleeping arrangements for Artie.’

‘You didn’t know about Artie. I didn’t know about Artie.’

‘That’s true!’

On the way to Foxden, George told Margot how her father had written to Basil Dean, the director of ENSA, at the Drury Lane theatre. ‘He’s seeing people on Tuesday,’ she said.

‘Tuesday? Next Tuesday?’ Margot said.

‘Yes, but if you think it’s too soon. If your ankle’s still--’

‘No! No, my ankle’s fine.’ Margot’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. Her eyes felt moist and there was a stinging sensation at the back of them, but there were no tears.

‘This is it, ladies,’ Bess said, pulling into the cobbled quadrangle at Foxden Hall behind Mr Porter and Artie. ‘I expect you’re hungry,’ she said, jumping out of the car. Mr Porter took the cases from the back of the truck and carried them into Mrs Hartley’s kitchen. Bess and the London visitors followed.

‘Come in, come in,’ Foxden’s cook and housekeeper said, ambling across the large kitchen. ‘Kettle’s on, so if you want to take your cases upstairs, Margot will show you where your rooms are. Oh, and the Goldman children have been in and out of here all day. They’re so excited about seeing you. ‘Course they’re too polite to say, but I think they’re hoping you’ve got presents for them.’

‘We have!’ Betsy said. ‘Where are they?’

‘Doing sums and such like in the old nursery with their nanny and nurse. Margot will show you where to go, won’t you my duck?’ Margot nodded and took