Free Daughter of Deceit by Victoria Holt Page B

well,” I said. “She’s been terribly sick and she’s giddy. Dolly’s here. She thinks she might not be able to go on tonight.”
    She stared at me. She was trying to hide the elation, but I could see it there. Naturally it would be. I understood.
    “Is she … very bad?”
    “No. It’s only a bilious attack. She’s lying down. She feels dizzy when she stands up. I can’t believe she’ll be fit to go on tonight. You’re to come down at once. Dolly’s pacing up and down like an animal in a cage, and my mother is trying to soothe him.”
    “He’ll be furious.”
    “Well, you know Dolly.”
    “He won’t trust me to do it.”
    “He must,” I answered her. “He wouldn’t have given you the job in the first place if he didn’t believe you could do it in an emergency.”
    “And your poor mother. How awful!”
    “I don’t think it is anything much. She says she’s probably eaten something which did not agree with her. You’d better hurry. The longer you keep Dolly waiting, the more incensed he’ll be.”
    She hurried down and I went to my room.
    This could be Lisa’s chance. It was only natural that that thought should be uppermost in her mind.
    My mother was feeling a little better but not well enough to go on that night. I wanted to stay with her but she said I ought to go to the theatre to cheer Lisa on.
    “Poor girl. I know what she is going through. She’s got strong nerves, though. I will say that for her. And she’ll need them tonight.”
    “She’s very earnest about it all.”
    “Quite right. You need earnestness, and all you’ve got, to succeed in this profession, I can assure you. She shouldn’t be too confident, though, and I don’t think she is. She’s got to have that awful feeling that she’s going to lose her top notes and fall flat on her face instead of into her bridegroom’s arms. It’s got to be a mixture of fear and confidence … and that’s not easy to come by. Don’t I know it! But this is a chance for her. If she does well, she’ll be in Dolly’s good books. If she fails … it could be the chorus for the rest of her life. Let’s wish her well. She knows the songs, she knows the dances. The tricky bit is that twist at the end of the first act. Once or twice I’ve nearly bungled it.”
    So I went to the theatre and I sat, trembling for her.
    The curtain was about to go up. I surveyed the audience from the box I was sharing with Robert Bouchere. Just for those few minutes we were the only ones in the audience who knew what was to come.
    Dolly lifted the curtain and stood before us.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great regret that I have to tell you that Desiree is indisposed and cannot be with you tonight.”
    There was a gasp which rippled through the stalls, to the upper circle and gallery. I looked about me apprehensively. These people had paid to see Desiree.
    “I have been in Desiree’s company just before coming to the theatre,” went on Dolly. “She is desolate because she has to disappoint you. She begged me to ask you to forgive her and she particularly asks you, her dear public, to give Lisa Fennell a chance to show you what she can do. Desiree has absolute faith in Lisa and I am sure that, after tonight’s performance, you will share that faith. I know how you all love Desiree, but you would not want her here when she should be in bed. She sends her love to you all. She is missing you as you are missing her. But she fervently knows that you will give Lisa a chance and that you will not be disappointed.”
    The curtain was up. The opening chorus had begun and there was Lisa giving a fair imitation of Desiree in “Can I help you, madam?”
    It was a good performance. I followed her every movement, watching for pitfalls, like the twirl at the end of the first act. The audience applauded. Some of them must have realized what an ordeal the poor girl was going through, and they had set aside their disappointment in not seeing Desiree and were