A Dangerous Fortune - Ken Follett [39]
April was still excited about the South American she had met, Tonio Silva. “Just think, he can afford to lose ten guineas on a bet!” she said. “And I’ve always liked red hair.”
“I didn’t like the other South American, the dark one,” Maisie said.
“Micky? He was gorgeous.”
“Yes, but there was something sly about him, I thought.”
April pointed to a huge mansion. “That’s Solly’s father’s house.”
It was set back from the road, with a semicircular drive in front. It looked like a Greek temple, with a row of pillars across the front that reached all the way up to the roof. Brass gleamed on the big front door and there were red velvet curtains at the windows.
April said: “Just think, you could be living there one day.”
Maisie shook her head. “Not me.”
“It’s been done before,” April said. “You just have to be more randy than upper-class girls, and that’s not difficult. Once you’re married, you can learn to imitate the accent and all that in no time. You speak nice already, except when you get cross. And Solly’s a nice boy.”
“A nice fat boy,” Maisie said with a grimace.
“But so rich! People say his father keeps a symphony orchestra at his country house just in case he wants to hear some music after dinner!”
Maisie sighed. She did not want to think about Solly. “Where did the rest of you go, after I shouted at that boy Hugh?”
“Ratting. Then me and Tonio went to Batt’s Hotel.”
“Did you do it with him?”
“Of course! Why do you think we went to Batt’s?”
“To play whist?”
They giggled.
April looked suspicious. “You did it with Solly, though, didn’t you?”
“I made him happy,” Maisie said.
“What does that mean?”
Maisie made a gesture with her hand, and they both giggled again.
April said: “You only frigged him off? Why?”
Maisie shrugged.
“Well, perhaps you’re right,” April said. “Sometimes it’s best not to let them have it all first time. If you lead them on a bit it can make them more keen.”
Maisie changed the subject. “It brought back bad memories, meeting people called Pilaster,” she said.
April nodded. “Bosses, I hate their fucking guts,” she said with sudden venom. April’s language was even more earthy than what Maisie had been used to in the circus. “I’ll never work for one. That’s why I do this. I set my own price and get paid in advance.”
“My brother and me left home the day Tobias Pilaster went bankrupt,” Maisie said. She smiled ruefully. “You could say it’s because of the Pilasters that I’m here today.”
“What did you do after you left? Did you join the circus straightaway?”
“No.” Maisie felt a tug at her heart as she remembered how frightened and lonely she had been. “My brother stowed away on a ship going to Boston. I’ve not seen him or heard from him since. I slept at a rubbish tip for a week. Thank God the weather was mild—it was May. It only rained one night: I covered myself with rags and had fleas for years afterwards…. I remember the funeral.”
“Whose?”
“Tobias Pilaster’s. The procession went through the streets. He’d been a big man in the town. I remember a little lad, not much older than me, wearing a black coat and a top hat, holding his mam’s hand. It must have been Hugh.”
“Fancy that,” said April.
“After that I walked to Newcastle. I dressed as a lad and worked at a stables, helping out. They let me sleep in the straw at night, alongside the horses. I stayed there three years.”
“Why did you leave?”
“I grew these,” Maisie said, and jiggled her breasts. A middle-aged man walking by saw her, and his eyes nearly popped out. “When the head stablehand found out I was a lass he tried to rape me. I smacked him across the face with a riding crop, and that was the end of the job.”
“I hope you cut him,” April said.
“I certainly cooled his ardor.”
“You should have whacked his thing.”
“He might have liked it.”
“Where did you go when you left the stable?”
“That’s when I joined the circus. I started as a stablehand and eventually became one of the riders.” She sighed nostalgically. “I liked the circus.