‘It was the least I could do,’ he said, ‘especially as it was the diamond that put you in danger in the first place.’
I was about to put him right on that and explain about the bad blood between Billy and myself, but he ushered me out.
‘No more tonight, Cat. We can talk in the morning.’
I turned to go but a thought snagged me like a hook.
‘Johnny, don’t tell anyone about this, will you?’ I pleaded.
He shrugged. ‘I’ll have to mention it to Mr Sheridan . . . but no one else, I promise. But why?’
‘If Pedro hears, he’ll tell Syd.’
‘Syd?’
‘The Bow Street Butcher. If he finds out what Billy did to me, it’ll be war in Covent Garden. Someone might get hurt and I wouldn’t want that.’
‘I understand.’ He paused. ‘You know, Catkin, you are wiser than you look. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, captain.’
1Struck through by the censor.
SCENE 3 . . . BACKSTAGE
‘Are you all right, Cat?’
Pedro found me in the auditorium, replacing the candles in one of the chandeliers. Long Tom had lowered it to be within my reach so I could assist him in the neverending chore of keeping the theatre brightly lit.
‘Why do you ask?’ I said, not looking at Pedro as I chipped off the drips of wax from the glass reflectors with my nail.
‘Are you still cross with me? Don’t you want to hear what happened last night?’ He sat down on a bench and rubbed his calf muscles like an athlete limbering for a race. He was expected on stage in five minutes for his rehearsal.
I already knew, of course, that nothing had happened in Covent Garden last night, but he was not to know that. A total lack of interest on my part would look suspicious.
‘So what happened?’ I asked dutifully.
‘Nothing. Syd thinks Billy funked it.’
‘Oh.’ I spiked a white candle on the prong in an empty bracket.
‘I thought you’d be relieved,’ said Pedro in a disappointed voice. ‘This means that Billy’s surrendered the market to Syd, doesn’t it? You’ll be able to go out again. He won’t dare touch you.’
When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the choking pressure of Billy’s razor on my throat and touch the stub of hair where he had shaved off a fistful. Pedro’s comforting words could not be more ill-founded. I swayed on my feet and reached out for the bench to sit down before I collapsed.
Pedro was alarmed. ‘Cat? What’s the matter? You really don’t look well.’ He now noticed my bandaged forearm. ‘What did you do to yourself ?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, taking a steadying breath, determined not to faint.
‘But your arm!’
‘It’s nothing . . . just a cut.’
Pedro gave me a dubious look but did not pursue the matter. ‘Well, I know something that will cheer you up. Lord Francis and Lady Elizabeth are coming to the rehearsal today.’
I raised my eyebrows quizzically. ‘In what capacity?’
‘Dressed as themselves, of course. Now that you’ve whetted their appetite for the stage, Mr Sheridan invited them to bring a party of their friends. They should be here soon.’
I looked round quickly, wondering if Johnny was in view: he had to be warned. He would want to keep out of sight of such an invasion in case someone recognised him.
‘Come on, Cat,’ chided Pedro. ‘Aren’t you the least bit pleased?’
‘Sorry, Pedro,’ I said, turning back to him. ‘Of course I’m pleased.’ Looking into his deep brown eyes, it was hard to believe at that moment that this was the boy who had cheated on me. He did seem to care. Maybe the diamond-stealing was now all water under the bridge and we could start again?
‘Good, for I told Frank that you’d show them round.’
‘Pedro!’
Pedro leapt to his feet and gave me a bright smile. ‘Well, I can’t, can I? I’ve got to be on stage.’ With a final stretch, he bounded away like a gazelle, climbing over the bars to the orchestra pit and up on to the forestage.
Typical! I had just begun to like him again and he had sprung another surprise on me, using me to entertain his guests. If it weren’t for the fact that I liked Lord Francis too, I wouldn’t let him get away with it!
I found Johnny in the wings, running through the cues for that night’s play with Mr Bishop. Hovering behind the stage manager, I tried to attract Johnny’s attention. This couldn’t wait: they could be here at any moment. Finally, my friend looked up and saw me waving at him.
‘Mr Bishop,’ said Johnny quickly, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt this, but could we finish this later?’
The rebuff annoyed Mr Bishop. He was clearly having one of his bad days, but even he found it hard to show offence at Johnny’s polite but masterful manner.
‘If you must,’ he said grudgingly. He stuffed his dog-eared copy of the script into a deep jacket pocket. ‘I’ll see how the enchanter’s laboratory is coming along. Problem with the hidden compartment . . . keeps springing open.’
He shuffled off, yelling to the carpenter to hurry. It appeared the poor chippie was going to bear the brunt of his anger.
‘This better be good, Cat,’ said Johnny, steering me into the prompt’s office. ‘I have to tread carefully around Bishop. I think he suspects something.’
I hurriedly told him about the arrival of the party of young ladies and gentlemen. Striding to and fro in front of the fire, Johnny ran his fingers distractedly through his hair.
‘Who do you think will come?’ he asked.
I shrugged. ‘I met a few of their friends at the tea party. Besides Lord Francis and Lady Elizabeth, there was a young lady called Jane, a young gentleman called Charlie, and the Marchmont children.’
‘The Honorable Charles Hengrave, I imagine,’ mused Johnny. ‘I don’t know the girl, Jane . . . probably some poor relation from the country. As for the Marchmonts, I know them all right: horrid little bores, the whole family. I can only tolerate the father because of his political views. As a man, I find him repugnant.’