‘Do you want me to find out for you?’ asked Caleb gently. He must think me a coward for hesitating so long.
‘No, no, I’ll do it, thanks.’ I patted his gnarled hand and stood up. Feeling as if time had slowed down to crawling pace, I made my way to the Green Room.
‘I’m in!’ shouted Long Tom, slapping me on the back as I passed.
‘What about me?’ I asked huskily.
He frowned. ‘Sorry, Cat, I didn’t notice,’ and he went off to celebrate the good news with the others who had also been chosen.
I couldn’t get to see the list at first: the crowd was so thick. Two dancers were weeping on each other’s shoulders. Mr Salter, the prompt and box office manager, looked self-righteously pleased with himself. I overheard Mrs Reid talking to her assistant, Sarah Bowers.
‘I’m sorry, Sarah, the only way I could manage it was to make a cut in your wages. We’re going to be so hard-pressed. The budget’s been slashed; we’ve got to transport the costumes, put others in store. I did my best.’
Sarah nodded miserably. ‘I understand, Mrs Reid. At least I’ve still got me job. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.’ Her eyes fell on me and she flushed scarlet. ‘I’m not complainin’, really I’m not.’
By now my heart was pounding, my throat dry. Had Mrs Reid cut Sarah’s wages so that she could do something for me? Was that what Sarah’s look meant? I wormed my way to the front of the crowd and scanned the list pinned to the wall. All the names were familiar, people I’d known since I was a baby. It took a moment to work out who hadn’t made it into the lifeboat. Two-thirds of the stagehands were going, most of the set painters, half the front of house staff. No carpenters – they’d been transferred to building the new theatre. No doorman as Caleb had predicted. And no Cat.
It couldn’t be! I started at the top again. Catherine Royal. I had to be there. I looked under Wardrobe – just Mrs Reid and Sarah. I searched under Messengers – no one was being taken. I even checked under Actors as I had once appeared briefly on the stage. Nothing. I turned to ask Mrs Reid if there was some mistake but her expression told me everything.
‘I’m sorry, Cat, but I couldn’t squeeze you in. I’ve already had to reduce Sarah’s wages, poor girl, and she’s got a sick mother to support.’ Mrs Reid led me out of the Green Room and into the corridor. She lowered her voice. ‘I had to choose between you and Sarah – it’s been a very difficult decision. But, as I told myself last night, now you’ve got those fine friends of yours in Grosvenor Square, I feel sure you’ll get by. They’ll see you all right, won’t they?’
I nodded dumbly. I didn’t know what else to do. My strongest desire just then was to be on my own.
‘Cheer up, Cat. When we get back here, I’m sure I’ll find something for you to do if you still need the work.’
In two years’ time she meant.
‘But you’ll have to do something about that sewing of yours,’ she said with a smile. ‘I couldn’t really afford you, you know, at the moment as I’d have to do the work twice over, wouldn’t I?’
She was right. I was useless at sewing. Sarah had the makings of a fine seamstress. There had been no competition.
‘Excuse me, Mrs Reid, I’d better go and . . .’ And what, I wondered? ‘And pack.’
She patted me on the shoulder. ‘No need to leave until Saturday, child. That gives you plenty of time.’
I bobbed a curtsey and left, not wanting to see or be seen by anyone, particularly not by those lucky ones who were moving with the company.
The Sparrow’s Nest is a good place to hide. I tucked myself between a trunk of Roman robes and a pile of musty furs, pulling my favourite moth-eaten bearskin over me. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. Empty was the closest I could come to describing it. I couldn’t believe that they could do this to me after all these years – and yet I perfectly understood the decision. They had called me their cat, Mr Sheridan had once dubbed me his diamond, but all that counted for nothing in the cold light of day. I was nothing to them. I had no skills to speak of; I’d outgrown my time as theatre pet; as of Saturday night, I was on the street. Through pride, I’d turned down offers of help and now had to survive on my own. I couldn’t even tell the Avons I’d changed my mind; Lizzie and Frank were gone – Lizzie on the boat to Paris, Frank in his carriage to Bath. He’d be learning irregular verbs and she sampling the latest fashions while I was left to sample the irregular life of the homeless.
Anger welled up inside me. Didn’t I mean more to everyone than this? Hadn’t I rescued Johnny for Mr Sheridan? Didn’t I save Drury Lane’s favourite boy star when I’d thrown myself between Pedro and Mr Hawkins’ blade? Despite all this, everyone thought someone else was looking after me and all were quite happy to be shot of the responsibility.
Even in my foul mood, I knew I was being unjust. I had many friends. The problem was that those with the means to help had gone away; those that remained were in as precarious a position as me.
‘Pull yourself together, Cat,’ I hissed at myself. ‘You’re not the first girl to be expected to earn her own living. Look at it this way: you’ve been incredibly lucky for ten or more years: now that luck has run out.’
‘All the same,’ a miserable voice piped up, ‘at least the management had the decency to let Caleb know in advance and arranged a soft landing for him with Widow King. After all these years, no one thought to let me know; they made me go through the humiliation of seeing the list.’
‘They’re treating you just like everyone else.’
‘But I thought I was special. I thought I was Drury Lane’s Cat.’
‘Well, if that’s your attitude, go and curl up at Billy Shepherd’s fireside. Become his Cat. He’d have you quick enough.’
‘Never.’