A True Love of Mine Page 14

  Maddy set to her tasks with a will now, to make up for her former dilatoriness, helping her mother to arrange the sandwiches onto large plates and then to set the table in readiness for their guest; the best rose-patterned china cups and saucers today and the damask cloth because it was a special occasion.

  Patrick had finished his work a little early – they were not very busy at the moment – and had had a wash and brush-up, as he called it. He was now sitting reading the daily newspaper, something he had done since he started work, showing himself to be a man of the world. And, like the other men, Isaac and William, he would sit and wait until the meal appeared on the table.

  Jessie arrived promptly at half past four. Maddy had gone out to wait for her on the pavement and to bring her in. The shop was closed on Wednesday afternoon, so they could not enter that way, and Maddy thought her friend might be nervous of coming through the undertaker’s yard on her own. Maddy noticed that Jessie had her pretty leaf-green dress on again underneath her short coat. Maddy was glad she had decided to wear her pale blue dress with the large white collar, one she usually wore only for very best. She wanted to look just as nice as Jessie and she felt that perhaps she did.

  ‘Hello, Jessie.’

  ‘Hello, Maddy.’

  They greeted one another a little timorously at first; after all they were only quite new friends. But Maddy soon overcame her shyness.

  ‘Come along,’ she said, linking her friend’s arm. ‘I’ve been dying for you to come, and we’re going to have a lovely tea. I’ve helped my mum to get it ready.’

  Clara decided that they would start their meal almost straight away, after everyone had said hello to their guest. There was only the tea to be brewed, everything else was ready, and it would help to dispel any awkwardness that there might be if they were left to sit and smile at one another. Once the meal started Clara knew she could rely on Isaac and Patrick to keep the conversation going if Jessie proved to be a little shy. Her father-in-law and her son were alike in a number of ways, one being their ability to put people at their ease.

  Jessie looked a little surprised when Isaac said, as he did at the start of every formal meal, ‘Shall we say grace?’ Probably it was something they did not do in their household, but she bowed her head dutifully with all the others.

  ‘Nah then, let’s tuck in, shall we?’ said Isaac when they had all said ‘Amen’. ‘Help yerself to a few sandwiches, Jessie love, and a sausage roll. If you’re not quick our Patrick’ll have scoffed them all.’

  ‘No…no, Grandad, that’s not true,’ replied Patrick. ‘I’m on my best behaviour today.’ He picked up a plate of sandwiches and one of sausage rolls, offering them to Jessie who was sitting opposite him. ‘Jessie, do have one of these lovely salmon sandwiches,’ he said politely. ‘They are really extra special because Maddy has helped to make them with her own fair hands.’

  They all laughed and the ice was broken as everyone helped themselves to sandwiches, and hot sausage rolls, straight from the oven.

  ‘Well then, have you two lasses got any new jokes to share with us?’ asked Isaac. ‘You’ve been to see the Pierrots again this morning, haven’t you?’

  ‘Only for a little while,’ replied Maddy. ‘We didn’t stay for it all, did we, Jessie? It started raining and everybody ran to shelter under the pier.’

  ‘Aye, if wet, under the pier,’ laughed Isaac. ‘That’s what they advertise. You can never tell what the weather’s going to be like, but they carry on in th’ open air as long as they can.’

  ‘We decided to go home,’ said Maddy. ‘I thought I’d better come back and help Mum, and Jessie went to find her brother, didn’t you, Jessie?’

  ‘Yes, he was fishing on the pier, but he wouldn’t go home. Samuel says a bit of rain never hurts anybody.’

  ‘So how about those jokes?’ said Patrick. ‘I hope they’re good ones.’ He smiled encouragingly at Jessie, but she suddenly turned shy.

  ‘I… I don’t think I can remember any,’ she said, ‘but I expect Maddy can.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got a good one,’ said Maddy. She thought for a moment, frowning slightly. ‘Just let me think… Yes, I can remember. I saw two little boys paddling in the sea this morning… That’s what the comedian said,’ she explained. ‘I don’t mean that I actually saw them.’

  ‘Come on, get on with it,’ said Patrick. ‘We know what you mean.’

  She pulled a face at him. ‘Well…one little boy said to the other one, “Haven’t you got dirty feet?” And the other one said, “Well, we never had a holiday last year.”’

  ‘Very good,’ said Clara, leading the round of applause.

  ‘I didn’t have a holiday last year, but my feet are lovely and clean,’ said Patrick with a show of innocence.

  ‘But you wash them, don’t you?’ said Jessie seriously. ‘That little boy never washed his feet, you see, except when he went paddling. That’s what’s supposed to be funny…’ She sounded rather puzzled.

  ‘Yes, I understand, Jessie.’ Patrick grinned at her and gave a slight wink, and Maddy, sitting opposite him, noticed that his eyes were kind and warm with not a hint of the impishness they held when he was teasing her. And she noticed that Jessie blushed bright pink beneath her freckles.

  ‘I must go and see one of the shows myself,’ said Patrick, ‘when I have time. I’ve not been since I left school; I’ve been too busy working. But I used to love them when I was a little boy. Grandad used to take us, me and Maddy, didn’t you, Grandad?’

  ‘Aye, so I did,’ said Isaac, ‘and your dad as well, before you.’

  ‘But there weren’t any Pierrots when I was a lad, were there, Father?’ said William. ‘If you remember, those were the days of the minstrel shows. The Pierrot troupes have only been going for the last ten years or so, haven’t they?’

  ‘Yes, of course you’re right,’ agreed Isaac. ‘I was forgetting. Minstrel shows were still all the rage when you were a lad, William. And then Henry Morgan came along and started his troupe, Morgan’s Merry Minstrels… They were a good troupe an’ all,’ he said, addressing his remarks to Maddy and Jessie. ‘Negro minstrels, they called themselves – a minstrel’s a sort of travelling singer – and they had black faces and they played banjos and tambourines.’

  ‘You mean… they were black men, from Africa?’ asked Jessie.

  ‘No, they weren’t really black,’ laughed Isaac. ‘I expect the very first ones were; they started off in America. But the ones we’re talking about, they used to black their faces with burnt cork soaked in water; quite a messy business it must have been. Henry Morgan, he was the leader of the troupe. The leading man was always called the “Uncle”, and he did all the organising. Aye, I got to know Henry Morgan quite well. We did a funeral for them when one of the men died sudden like, but that’s just by the way. He’s still going strong is Henry. He’s about the same age as me and he’s still active in the business.’

  ‘But they’re called “Uncle Percy’s Pierrots” now,’ said William. ‘That’s the troupe you’ve been watching, Jessie and Maddy, and Percy Morgan – the main man – he’s Henry Morgan’s son; he took over from his father.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Isaac. ‘In the olden days – the black face days – there were only men in the troupe, but now they have women as well. All to the good, I reckon; it adds a bit of variety. And it’s Percy’s wife who plays the piano for them; Letty, she’s called.’

  ‘She acts as well, doesn’t she, Maddy?’ said Jessie. ‘Do you remember? She was the dressed-up lady in that little play they did.’

  ‘Aye, a sketch they call it,’ said Isaac.

  ‘Oh…a sketch then,’ said Jessie. ‘She was the lady that had two gentlemen friends.’

  ‘Lucky lady,’ said William and they all laughed.

  ‘I like the costumes they wear,’ said Jessie, who was becoming much more talkative now. ‘Those white suits and pointed hats with pom-poms. The men and the ladies dress the same, don’t they? Well,
nearly the same. The ladies have dresses and the men have baggy trousers.’

  ‘That’s right,’ agreed Isaac. ‘Actually, Percy Morgan’s a bit of an innovator in that respect – I mean he was the first to think of it,’ he added, as the girls looked puzzled at his unusual word. ‘Dressing the men and the women in the same garb, I mean. Come to that, it’s quite a new idea to have any women in the troupe. Now if you were to go along to South Bay, near to t’ Spa, and watch Will Catlin’s troupe, he doesn’t have women in his company at all.’

  ‘His was the first Pierrot troupe to appear in Scarborough, wasn’t it, Father?’ asked William. ‘Will Catlin’s?’

  ‘No…no, lad. He was nearly the first, mind. But it was actually a fellow called Tom Carrick,’ replied Isaac. ‘He was the first. His Pierrots had red pom-poms on their suits, and Will Catlin’s have black ones.’

  ‘Ours have black ones too,’ said Jessie, with a knowledgeable air. ‘I mean…the ones that we watch,’ she added.

  ‘Ours – I mean Uncle Percy’s – isn’t it the only one then?’ asked Maddy. ‘You mean there’s lots of other Pierrot shows as well?’

  ‘Aye, two others at least in Scarborough,’ said her grandfather. ‘Not just here, though; they’re all over t’ country now. They’re in Bridlington and Filey and Whitby. And Blackpool of course, and some o’ t’ resorts down south; Eastbourne and Margate and all them places. There’s never been any ill feeling though, here in Scarborough, at least not as far as I know; happen just a bit of friendly rivalry between the troupes.

  ‘Shall I tell you how it all started?’ Isaac went on, pleased to have a captive audience in Maddy’s new little friend Jessie. ‘About why they wear them fancy costumes?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Jessie.

  ‘Yes, go on, Grandad,’ said Maddy. She had heard it all before, many times, but she did so love her grandad and never tired of hearing him talking about one of his favourite subjects.

  Patrick affected a yawn behind his hand, which his grandad noticed, as he was probably intended to do.

  ‘Less of yer cheek, young feller-me-lad,’ Isaac reproved him, but with a laugh in his voice. ‘You might not want to hear about it but these young ladies do. Just get on with yer tea and close yer ears up if you don’t want to listen.’

  ‘All right; sorry, Grandad,’ grinned Patrick. ‘Mam, isn’t it time for the jelly and fruit now?’

  So while Clara served the dessert Isaac told, once again, the tale of how the Pierrot troupes, which were now becoming part of the British seaside tradition, had begun. They were descendants of the group of travelling players, the ‘commedia dell’arte’ of Italy.

  ‘You see there were these characters called Harlequin and Columbine, and Punchinello. As a matter of fact Mister Punch that you see on the sands – you know, Punch and Judy – well, he’s a descendant of the Italian Punchinello; an ugly fellow with a hooked nose and a bad temper. And Harlequin and Columbine, well, they were the two lovers; boyfriend and girlfriend, you see…

  ‘And then France got hold of the story, and the French folk called them Pierrot and Pierette; and then they ended up here in Britain as our Pierrot shows, with the same white costumes as the French people dressed ’em in. And we hope they’ll be here for many years to come.’ Isaac gave a satisfied nod when he had come to the end of his tale, beaming at the two girls.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Jessie. ‘That was all really interesting.’

  After tea was finished Maddy helped her mother to clear the table, and Jessie, although of course she had not been asked, offered to help as well. Clara piled all the plates and dishes to one side, saying that she would tackle the washing-up later. The dining table was cleared and covered with a brown chenille cloth, which it always wore when it was not being used for dining, and they all sat round it to play card games; snap, beggar my neighbour, and happy families.

  ‘I’ve had a lovely time,’ said Jessie, glancing at the clock on the mantelshelf. ‘Thank you very much for inviting me, Mrs Moon. I have really enjoyed it. My mother said she would come for me at seven o’clock.’

  ‘We are very pleased you could come,’ replied Clara. ‘Perhaps you would like to come again sometime? You still have three weeks of your holiday left, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, thank you; I would like that.’ Jessie turned to Maddy. ‘Are you going down to the sands again tomorrow morning, Maddy? Shall I see you there?’

  ‘I think Maddy will be busy here in the morning,’ replied Clara. ‘There are a few jobs that need doing.’ Enough is enough, she was thinking. Jessie was a lovely little girl and an ideal friend for Maddy, but she did not want them living in one another’s pockets. And Maddy needed to calm down a little and remember that life did not consist wholly of holidays and Pierrot shows.

  ‘There’s a sandcastle competition on Friday,’ said Maddy. ‘D’you think I could go to that, please? Uncle Percy is arranging it after the afternoon performance. If it doesn’t rain, of course.’

  ‘I hope he has checked that the tide is out then,’ observed Clara. ‘Yes, Maddy; of course you can go, provided you tidy your bedroom in the morning. That’s her Friday job, Jessie,’ she explained.

  ‘Thanks, Mam,’ said Maddy. ‘I’m sure he’ll have checked and made sure the tide’ll be out… Oh, that’ll be your mam…your mother,’ she added, hearing a knock at the back door, the entrance from the yard. ‘Shall we go and let her in, Jessie?’

  ‘No, you stay here and find Jessie’s coat for her,’ said William. ‘I’ll go and open the door for Mrs Barraclough.’

  When William opened the door he was surprised to see a strange young man standing there. About Patrick’s age, he guessed; tall and dark with thoughtful brown eyes. He had expected to see Faith Barraclough and he could not have explained his slight disappointment.

  ‘How do you do?’ said the lad, for that was all he was really, despite his air of maturity. ‘I am Samuel Barraclough. I have come to collect my sister.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ said William heartily, shaking the boy’s outstretched hand. ‘How do you do? I’m William Moon, Maddy’s father. Do come in; Jessie is just about ready.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Jessie at the sight of her brother. ‘I thought Mother was coming for me.’

  ‘Well, that’s a fine greeting,’ said Samuel, with just a hint of a grin. ‘Mother is busy with the twins. They were acting up a bit, at least Tommy was, so she’s decided to put them to bed early.’ He looked round at the rest of the company. ‘How do you do, everyone? I am Samuel, Jessica’s brother.’

  Isaac and Clara shook hands with him as that was what he seemed to expect. ‘I have met Maddy before, of course, on the pier,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘Hello again, Maddy.’ She was pleased to see that this time his serious brown eyes lit up with a touch of friendliness.

  ‘Hello,’ she replied, hoping that nobody could see that she was blushing. He was such a good-looking lad.

  ‘And I’m Patrick,’ said Patrick, not to be outdone. ‘How do, Samuel?’

  ‘How do you do?’ replied the other boy, shaking his hand. They managed a brief grin at one another, two fourteen-year-old boys, but poles apart in lifestyle and experience.

  ‘By heck, he’s a sober-sides, isn’t he?’ remarked Patrick, when the brother and sister had gone. ‘He’d make a good undertaker,’ he grinned. ‘Wouldn’t he, Grandad?’

  ‘Aye, well, I suppose he looks more like one than you do,’ laughed Isaac. ‘But I dare say the lad was a bit overcome, meeting all these strange folk.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said Clara. ‘He seems a very self-possessed young man to me.’

  Maddy was quiet, thinking that, indeed, Samuel Barraclough was very different from her cheeky irrepressible brother. But there was something about his earnestness that appealed to her.

  And Jessie, walking home with Samuel and answering his probing questions about all that had gone on in the Moon household, was thinking how very different
from her own brother was Maddy’s brother, Patrick. He was so lively and funny and good-natured, and she had decided that she liked him a lot.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was on the Saturday of that same week that Percy Morgan and his troupe of Pierrots met together in Percy’s lodgings to talk about the success – or otherwise – of their recent shows and to discuss future plans and tactics.

  Percy and his wife, Letitia, his father, Henry, and three other members of the troupe were staying in Castle Road with Mrs Ada Armstrong, a warm-hearted woman whom Henry Morgan and his son had known for many years. The rest of the company had lodgings in Tollergate, not very far away. Several lodging-house keepers in that vicinity took only ‘pros’ as paying guests; those folk who were connected with the theatrical profession, either performing at one of the theatres in the town or on the sands in one of the Pierrot shows.

  Saturday was known in the resort of Scarborough, and in other seaside resorts as well, as ‘change-over day’. It was the day on which one lot of visitors left and another lot took their place; the day when the landladies changed the bedding and did not serve a midday meal (as most of them did on the other six days of the week) to enable them to get the house shipshape again for the incoming visitors. This rule, however, did not apply to Ada Armstrong or to her friend Mrs Ethel Bradbury, round the corner in Tollergate. Their lodgers would be staying put for several more weeks and both ladies, therefore, had served their guests a hearty meal of locally caught fish and crispy golden chips. And now, at two o’clock in the afternoon, the nine members of the troupe, plus Henry Morgan – who no longer performed but was still very active in the party – were gathered in Ada’s comfortably cluttered parlour. It was rather a tight squeeze, but they appreciated her generosity in vacating her private little sanctum and, moreover, providing them with a cup of tea so strong that the spoons would almost stand upright.