A Child's Voice Calling by Maggie Bennett Page A

sleep.’
    The next day Annie would avoid her eyes when Mabel took her a cup of tea – for these incidents never happened when Jack was at home – and say nothing about her blinding headache and nausea. Mother and daughter would both pretend that it had never happened, and any comments from Albert or questions from Alice and Daisy were quickly dismissed. It had not happened often, but the worry was always there at the back of Mabel’s mind, like a shadow waiting to pounce.
    Leicester Square was crowded with shoppers and strollers as the two young women gazed up at the Empire Palace of Varieties. Many of the great names of music hall were making the transition to the more respectable family-based entertainment with seats in rows and no drinking in the auditorium. ‘Better ’n the old Grand on St John’s Hill, eh, Mabel?’ said Ada. ‘I’d love to see one o’ them shows, wouldn’t you? Ol’ Marie Lloyd an’ George Robey doin’ their stuff!’
    Mabel smiled. She knew by heart many of the songs made popular by the music halls and sold as ballads with words and music, but she had never imagined herself sitting up there in a real theatre; Ada’s enthusiasm touched a chord somewhere within her and it made her think that life could include fun as well as duty. ‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘P’raps one o’ these days we will.’
    And that was the moment when she heard thevoice from the past. ‘Is it? Can it be? My Gawd, it bloomin’ well
is
, me ol’ pal Mabel Court! What’re yer doin’ up the West End, then, gal?’
    Mabel spun round and stared into the merry face of a girl in a smart striped skirt and jacket, a flowery hat pinned over her curls. She was leaning on the arm of a grinning youth in a passable serge suit topped with a cloth cap that proclaimed his servant status. For a couple of seconds Mabel stared at them blankly.
    ‘Blow me dahn, don’t yer know me, Mabel? ’Ave yer forgot yer ol’ friend Maudie?’
    ‘
Maudie
! Maudie Ling!’ Mabel almost shouted. ‘Oh, how I’ve wondered about yer, how yer were gettin’ on! All those years ago – oh, Maudie, is it really you?’
    ‘Dunno ’oo else!’ And the two girls flung their arms round each other in a reuniting embrace. There was so much to say, such a lot to catch up on.
    ‘Yeah, I lef’ the ’ome at Dulwich when I was sixteen an’ went into service – an’ I ain’t ’alf got a top-drawer place now, Mabel, ’ousemaid in a mansion on Bryanston Square, Lady Stanley’s place, she’s lovely but ’e’s old an’ bald, talk abaht a bird in a gilded cage, eh, Charlie?’ Maudie turned to her companion. ‘Charlie’s a footman at ’Er Ladyship’s, and me an’ ’im’s walkin’ aht. An’ ’ow are yer, Mabel, after all this time? An’ that poor little bruvver?’
    There was so much to exchange and exclaim over that Charlie suggested they go to one of the new Joseph Lyons cafés; Maudie and Ada readily agreed, though Mabel worried about the cost. Ada reassured her in a whisper that she’d pay for them both and Charlie was obviously treating his sweetheart. Sitting at a table for four over tea and little iced spongecakes, Mabel felt quite overwhelmed by her surroundings, the smart waitresses carrying trays with china cups and plates; to her the café seemed to be the height of luxury and elegance.
    Maudie was telling her of the changes in her life that followed her arrest for thieving. ‘Best fing that ever ’appened to me, that was, Mabel!’ she said gaily. ‘They was damned good to Teddy an’ me at the Waifs an’ Strays –’e’s still dahn there at Dulwich, ten ’e is now, cheeky little blighter an’ all – I goes to see ’im on me afternoons off. ’Er Ladyship always sends ’im cake an’ stuff to share out – ooh, Mabel, she’s better ’n any queen or duchess!’
    Maudie was sorry to hear about Walter’s death – ‘though I never fought ’e’d survive, to tell yer the trufe, Mabel’ – and wanted to be