How could she have been so stupid as to think she would win?
Would she ever make anything of herself in London?
Maybe her mother was right all along, that she was just a nobody.
Backstage, the chaos of the changing area was now intensified by girls crying, others shouting at one another, emotions running high. Lucy quickly changed out of the two-piece, shoved it into the bag with the gown, and wove through to the stage door that led into the theatre foyer.
As she opened it, newspaper photographers surged forward to snap pictures of her.
‘Third place?’ one of them asked.
‘No,’ she croaked, trying to hold in her tears. ‘No place at all.’
She gazed around for Richard, desperate to see him.
And there, by the exit, half hidden by the crowds, he stood, giving her his handsome smile. Without being able to stop herself, she ran straight into his arms.
‘Congratulations, darling. The final six!’ He pulled away from her to take her in. ‘You should have won – you were absolutely the most beautiful girl there.’
Normality began to seep back into her. ‘Do you think so?’
‘The girl in first place was dreadful. It was probably rigged – you know how these things work.’
She looked around him. ‘Did you see the theatre owner? Can I meet him?’
‘He couldn’t make it tonight, but he told me that he would look at the event photographs and give you a call.’ It was said easily, as if it hadn’t been important.
‘But he needs to meet me, to hear me sing. That’s what I’m here to do, to show him how good I am.’ Frustration welled up in her. ‘And I don’t have a telephone.’
But Richard leaned forward to kiss her cheek. ‘You’re so beautiful when you’re flustered, darling, but you must learn to have faith. He said he’d call me, and we can decide on a time to bring you in, hear your lovely voice.’ He took her arm, guiding her out and onto the street. ‘You’ll be top billing in no time.’
He gave her a smile and then hurried her down towards the Strand. ‘In the meantime, your success in reaching the finals deserves a toast, and I know the perfect place to do just that.’
Before long, they were weaving through the lanes behind Covent Garden, plunging into a stairwell down to a basement door. After Richard knocked three times, a man opened it and let them into the dimly lit cellar.
Even from the vestibule Lucy could hear the sound of sultry jazz music, and as the door opened, they were engulfed into an underground warren of arched rooms, the sound of faint chatter amid wafts of cigar smoke.
Dark-red cushioned chairs and sofas lined the corners, shadowy in the flickering candlelight. A bar ran down the far side, bartenderspouring cocktails and spirits. Apart from a scattering of gentlemen and couples, the place was empty for a Friday night, giving it an air of exclusivity, secrecy, even.
At the far end, on a small stage, a spotlight fell upon a single, darkhaired woman seated on a narrow barstool, holding a microphone to her lips as she sang ‘Someone to Watch Over Me’ in deep, lingering tones. Accompanying her was a man at the piano, playing softly in the shadows.
‘This is lovely,’ she muttered nervously. She’d never been to a place even remotely like this. ‘Do you have to be a member?’
He chuckled, patting her hand at her naïveté. ‘That’s right, but it’s nice and quiet, well out of the way.’
After handing their coats to a waitress, he led her to a sofa in the corner and ordered Champagne. ‘Only the best for the best.’
‘Well, not quite the best tonight, was I?’ she mumbled.
But he grasped her hand. ‘Now, come on, darling. It was your first time, so I think we should call it a win.’
‘I don’t know how I’m going to pay you back, and I borrowed money from my friend for the hairdresser, too.’
‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about dull things like money, my darling girl. I can help you out.’ In a single, fluid movement, he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a few folded banknotes, pressing them into her hand.
‘I-I can’t take this,’ she stammered.
‘Now don’t ruin our lovely evening with any silliness. We’re friends, aren’t we? Partners in crime.’ He grinned. ‘And I know you’ll pay me back once we’ve found you a proper singing spot.’
