I decided that it was time to intervene.
“Templeton asked that we call on her in her dressing room before the performance,” I announced. “It is very near that time. We should be going.”
“Perhaps you would like to join me in my box,” I overheard Redstone say to my aunt.
It was very gracious of him, however, my aunt had a box at the theater next to the royal box out of deference to her family, history, and long-standing support of the theater.
“You must join us,” she replied. “And you must tell me all about your latest travels. I am planning on going on safari the coming year. Have you been?”
And they were off to our aunt’s theater box, including my sister. Lily hung back, that dark expression still on her face, and in spite of my resolve not to do so, I found myself telling her something I was once told.
“Your face will freeze like that.”
She angled that dark blue gaze at me. “I dinnae like the man.”
“You don’t know him. He’s quite well known and respected.”
“I know others like him. I seen ’em at the ‘Church’ and on the streets. They say one thing to yer face, then do another behind yer back. Madame always said, get the coin up front or ye won’t get it at all.”
Quite an observation for one so young.
“Her ladyship can take care of herself,” I assured her.
“Like you, Mr. Brodie told me?”
I knew well enough where Templeton’s dressing room was from previous performances at the theater, and informed the attendant as Lily and I made our way through a door that led to the backstage and dressing room area.
“Ye might want to be careful, miss,” he cautioned, although he didn’t indicate what the reason might be other than the usual moving around of props by backstage attendants and the usual bustle of performers before the play began.
However, I didn’t have long to wonder at his comment as we traversed the area at the back of the stage and I heard a faint swishing sound amid other sounds one usually found behind the scenes.
I laid a hand on Lily’s arm as we neared Templeton’s dressing room. I heard it again, louder and very distinct. I knewthat sound along with the curse from a stagehand that usually followed.
“Crivvens!” Lily exclaimed. “A dragon!”
I had the same thought, as I stepped in front of her and the “dragon.” More precisely, Ziggy. However, she was not the least bit frightened, merely curious.
“He’s an iguana,” I replied. “From South America. He’s a pet and quite harmless,” I explained, and it appeared to have returned from the London Zoo where he had been residing the past several months.
As I said, she wasn’t the least bit frightened.
“Wot’s he doing here?” Lily asked.
“He’s an escape artist,” Templeton explained, as she attempted to guide Ziggy in the direction of her dressing room. No mean feat as he looked at her with beady eyes and hissed. He obviously was not of the same opinion about returning there.
My friend was dressed for her performance, complete with makeup, and a sprig of holly adorning her hair.
I wasn’t certain if Lily had ever been to the theater. This evening apparently was going to be full of new experiences, Ziggy included.
Lily had emerged from behind me and approached Ziggy as if he was someone’s pet dog.
“Wot does he eat?”
“Plants for the most part,” Templeton replied. “He’s particularly fond of roses.”
And there were at least a dozen more questions.
“And you are?” Templeton then asked.
