You’ve an admirer, Poll.’ Hannah Liddle, fixing a dyed red peacock feather to her hair, nodded towards the stage footlights as Polly scampered past her into the wings. ‘Chap out there couldn’t keep his eyes off when Tantini was sawing you in half.’
‘He was watching the trick itself,’ Polly reasoned, stifling a yawn and the urge to rub her eyes, which would rub all her panstick off. She’d been doing back-to-back shows as the Great Tantini’s ‘glamorous sidekick’ for the better part of four months now, with only a half day off on Monday.
Not that she relished time off. She shared a crowded boarding house in east London with Hannah and 12 other girls who were ‘regulars’ at the East End theatre.
‘Suit yourself, but I know an admirer when I see one,’ grinned Hannah as the small brass band in the orchestra pit struck up. ‘There’s my cue… shall I see you later, Poll?’
‘I shall be in bed,’ replied Polly, hoping to at least have a bed to herself tonight. At Mrs Daker’s lodging house, you fell into a bed when it became available, and sometimes slept top to tail with another showgirl. In a few months’ time, a promoter would be taking the show on tour. Hannah, a chorus girl in one of the musical acts, had warned Polly that things got even ‘cosier’ on tour, lodgings and budgets shrinking with every day that passed.
Polly took her time to remove all her make-up, calling in on Tantini before she left the theatre. He was sitting in a corner of his grubby dressing room, doing a complicated card trick, and glanced up as she knocked on the door. ‘Poll, come and take a look at this! Not even Houdini can do this card trick.’
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der April 2020-Ausgabe von Womans Weekly Fiction Special.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der April 2020-Ausgabe von Womans Weekly Fiction Special.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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