‘Whatkind favour?’
‘Miss Fairchild,’ Lillian said, her voice low. ‘She has quit. And I understand I haveyouto thank for that.’
The shock of seeing her mother’s things gone had hit her like a thunderclap. This one unfolded quietly, realization spreading like a flush upon her neck.
‘I never told her toquit.’
‘No, indeed – how did Miss Fairchild put it? Ah, yes. You “inspired her” to find something of her own.’
Ava turned, speechless, to the empty room. ‘Lillian,’ she said, her voice lilting upwards sharply. ‘That still gives you no right – this was the only place. Theonly place—’ She had to stop herself, had to bite her tongue – for she could feel the tidal wave awaiting her behind those words, and she wouldn’t speak them here. Wouldn’t let Lillian see how much it hurt to say them.
Because here – in this room – was the only place it felt as though her mother still existed. With her things, her dresses, and coats – her pictures upon the table.
And now …
Now Ava curled her fingernails into her palm, trying to focus on the sharp press of them against her skin, and not how tight her throat had become.
‘Youlovedher,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘You loved her, just as I loved her. How could you just discard all of her things?’
Lillian plucked up one of the pots from Miss Fairchild’s table, examining it. ‘Oh, I haven’t thrown them away. Not yet.’
‘Then what do you want for them? Coin? Because I’ll pay you, I’ll—’
‘You know what I want, Ava,’ said Miss Lillian, her dark eyes on her. ‘Now more than ever. I want you back on my stage.’
Ava felt her heart twist in her chest. ‘Our deal was that I wouldhelpMiss Fairchild.TrainMiss Fairchild.’
Lillian’s expression flattened. ‘I think you’ve done quite enough ofthat.’
‘I did what you asked of me.’ The words stuck in Ava’s throat. ‘That was the deal.’
‘I’m changing the deal,’ Miss Lillian said simply, fingertips tightening around the ivory handle of her cane. ‘Come back to the stage, or not only will your brother be ruined, but your mother’s things will be, too. The choice is yours.’
‘I can’t … Icouldn’t—’
Lillian watched her. ‘Come now, Ava. Iknowyou’ve been practising.’
Ava looked up at her, eyes wide – pain curling in her chest. ‘How do you … ?’
‘Bertie,’ said Lillian, her cane wobbling as she put her full weight upon it. ‘She has her ways. So then, what do you say?’
Ava opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She had thought, of late, that she had begun to reclaim pieces of herself. But in doing so, she’d forgotten that Lillian was the one holding all of the strings.
And for all her recent courage, she still had not learned how to sever them.
‘I … I need to think,’ Ava said, her words unsteady now. Thin. ‘I need to consider it.’
‘Well, you had better think quickly,’ said Miss Lillian. ‘Because opening night is creeping upon us – and now I have no act.’
Chapter Forty-Five
Damien’s eyes snagged upon the oily black door on Houghton Street as he waited, and he thought of Ava. He thought of everything Lillian wanted from her – of everything he would end up taking from her, and the sickening feeling returned, clawing at his stomach.
And then the door swung open. And she was there. And all the courage he thought he’d summoned, all of the good reasons why he should do this – why he should tell her – left him.
‘Damien,’ Ava said – his name a soft breath between her lips, which were oddly pale. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I …’ he began, his throat becoming oddly tight.
