Free Hettie of Hope Street by Annie Groves Page B

their own free choice,’ he added heavily, and John knew he was thinking of the way their own mother had forced Ellie to part from Gideon so many years ago and the unhappiness that had caused them both.
    â€˜How’s business?’ Gideon asked him, changing the subject.
    â€˜Not as good as I’d like.’
    â€˜Having so many men out of work is hurting us all. I’m getting closer to having to lay men off meself, but Ellie is adamant that we’ll cut back at home before she’ll see a working man laid off and his wife and children going hungry. Fortunately, I’ve got a bit put by and even if I have to cut the rents on the properties we should be able to pull through. There’s many a business as won’t, though. They’re saying already that Liverpool has been hit very badly. There’s no shipping to speakof, the docks are lying empty and there’s not much of any other kind of work either. It’s a bad business and no mistake, and the politicians don’t seem to be doing anything about it.’
    â€˜There’s a lot of men asking if they survived the war only to be left to starve to death,’ John agreed sombrely.
    â€˜Anyway, lad.’ Gideon returned swiftly to his real reason for being there. ‘You’ll be there for Hettie’s debut, won’t you? Only your Ellie will give me a real telling off if you aren’t.’
    John laughed. ‘Yes I’ll be there,’ he promised, even if the thought of seeing Hettie again, and in such a way, caused his heart to skip a beat.
    It was hard for Hettie not to feel both nervous and excited as she hurried across Lime Street towards the Adelphi hotel, skirting the imposing main entrance and going instead to the staff entrance, where she found a group of chambermaids complaining about the meanness of the guests whose rooms they had just been cleaning.
    â€˜Not so much as a farthing, they give us, and ’er dripping in diamonds and furs.’
    â€˜Just as well then that you helped yourself to her fancy perfume, eh Nancy?’ Hettie heard one of them joke as she squeezed past them.
    â€˜â€™Ere, where do you think you’re going?’ A fat bald uniformed doorman stopped her.
    â€˜I’m here to see the housekeeper, Mrs Nevis. I’m the new singer for afternoon tea,’ Hettie explained.
    â€˜Well, next time make sure you have a number so as we can sign yer in,’ he warned her before giving her directions for the housekeeper’s room.
    Mrs Nevis told her that she was far too busy to bother herself with her and gave Hettie directions for the room where she would find Mr Buchanan.
    These proved to be so complicated that Hettie had begun to fear she must have misunderstood them as she trudged up endless flights of stairs and along equally endless corridors before finally coming to an open door through which she could hear music being played.
    Having knocked and received no response, she walked hesitantly through the door and into the room. Immediately, the pianist stopped playing and looked at her.
    â€˜Mr Buchanan?’ Hettie asked him shyly.
    â€˜Yes indeed, and you must be the delightful new protégée whose company I am to have the pleasure of.’
    He was nothing like she had imagined, being small and rotund with black hair as shiny as patent leather pulled in strands across his bald head. But at least he was much jollier and kinder than his wife, Hettie acknowledged with relief.
    â€˜Well, my dear wife has excelled herself – you are indeed a pretty child. The ladies will all envy you and their husbands will insist that their wives are to take tea here every day so they can join them and secretly admire you. I hope, my dear,that you have a gown that will do more for that pretty face than the clothes you are currently wearing, eh?’ he asked jovially, pinching Hettie’s cheek. ‘A gentleman likes nothing more than to be able to admire a