Free Brilliance by Rosalind Laker

look for accommodation for yourself and get whatever you need to make a mask.’ He took a piece of paper from his pocket on which were two addresses with street directions. ‘The cafe proprietor has written these down. So inquire at one or other of these places. Neither is what you are used to, and you’ll probably look down your nose at them, but I’ve been assured that both are clean and respectable.’
    She took the slip of paper from him, realizing that although he had given her a last chance to travel on without him he had been fully prepared since their arrival in town to let her stay, even to gaining addresses for her. ‘Shall I take a second room for you, Mr Shaw?’
    ‘No, I’m having a garret room above the cafe. Later I’ll need to instruct you on how to handle all the sound effects. I’m going now to check that posters have been put up and to distribute leaflets. Come back here when you’ve secured a roof over your head for a week’s duration.’
    ‘What about the folding screen to stand by the piano?’
    He shook his head. ‘Let’s take one step at a time. I have to find out first if you can carry out the tasks for which I am to pay you.’
    There was still amusement in his voice, but she pretended not to notice and took her valise which he had unloaded for her. With her head high, she set off.
    The first address was in a long row of tall houses that opened straight from the narrow street. Not liking the location, she went on to the next address to find it even less inviting, but this time the house had window boxes full of red geraniums that gave it a cheerful look. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
    A dark-haired woman, neatly dressed and in her early thirties, opened the door and looked Lisette up and down.
    ‘Yes?’ she queried suspiciously before Lisette could speak.
    ‘Madame Brousais? I need a room for a week. I’m with the magic lantern show that’s come to town.’
    Immediately the woman relaxed and moved aside for Lisette to enter. ‘Oh, you’re an artiste as stage folk like to call themselves. That explains it! Your clothes are so fine that for a moment I thought you were one of those charity ladies from the church and they can be a pest. Not that any of them are ever as elegant as you. Follow me.’
    The hall was narrow, but tidy, and there was a vase of fresh flowers on a ledge. Madame Brousais led the way up a narrow staircase. As Lisette followed she realized from what the woman had said that she was more conspicuous than she wished to be in her Paris clothes. That needed to be changed without delay. She had learned to embroider and sew at school, but since leaving there everything in her wardrobe had come from haute couture houses. In any case she would have no spare time to make anything for herself now.
    ‘Could you recommend a local seamstress?’ she asked. ‘I need a new dress or two.’
    The woman looked back over her shoulder as they continued mounting the stairs. ‘There’s Madame Monclar two doors away. She’s quite good, but her skills couldn’t match anything you’re wearing now.’ They had reached the landing and the woman threw open a door. ‘This is the room and the privy is outside in the courtyard. I will do your laundry at a reasonable charge.’
    The room, which was smaller than any servant’s room at the château, was as clean as everything else Lisette had observed on her way upstairs. It had a single bed, an iron washstand in the corner with a china ewer patterned in pink roses and a row of wooden pegs on the wall. The rent of the room with breakfast included was so low that Lisette almost offered more, but decided that would be out of character for someone working with a magic lantern show.
    With payment settled in advance Lisette went at once to call on Madame Monclar, who was thin, tall and sharp-eyed. She agreed to make two cotton dresses, a skirt and a jacket within the week, saying that her daughter, also a seamstress, would