Free Resonance by Celine Kiernan Page A

cherry-red.
    ‘Hey,’ said Joe. ‘You needn’t look so delighted!’
    She turned to him with smiling eyes. She opened her mouth to say something.
    Mr Sheridan’s scandalised voice cut her off. ‘God preserve us!’ His massive bulk filled the dressing-room door, his horrified eyes fixed on their joined hands. ‘ Miss Kelly ! This is not your own private courting parlour!’
    They leapt up and apart like scalded cats. Sheridan crowded Joe out into the back corridor, pushed him out into the alley, and slammed the door on his face.
    Unbalanced and empty after the warm company of the dressing-room, Joe dithered, uncertain of what to do. He looked down at his hand, which Tina had, only moments before, held clutched in her own. Snowflakes drifted from the gloomy sky and fell like small kisses onto his palm. Joe closed his fingers over them.
    The door slammed open behind him, and he turned to find Tina leaning out into the cold.
    Her breath streamed out when she hissed his name. ‘Joe!’
    He stood like an idiot, grinning at her, his fingers still closed over the feel of her palm on his.
    She thrust out her arm. ‘Give it to me!’ Then again, impatiently: ‘Give it to me, you eejit! Unless you want them nicking it!’
    It took him a moment to understand. Then he dug the purse from his pocket and handed it over.
    ‘I’ll keep it safe for you,’ she whispered, and then, incredibly, she kissed him – her lips soft and surprisingly cool, her breath a warm cloud around them in the snowy air – before ducking inside and slamming the door.

Séance

    D EAR MAMA ,
    Here I am, only two days ashore and already a phenomenon! The manager says he has never seen such skill of prestidigitational art. He has ordered posters printed with my name in top billings – Harry Weiss, the Great Houdini! How’s that for your boy, Ma? I will be sending you billings from all over the world soon.
    I hope you aren’t still sore at Pa for having slipped me the fare – as you can see, I have returned most of it with this letter! Your boy finds himself very well-in, and set up nice and cosy already, Ma! The Irish are not, as you’d feared they would be, unkind to those not of the Catholic persuasion, and I am well lodged, with a cosy room (a fireplace and wardrobe and full board!) and an introduction to the community over here. My week’s wage goes a long way over here, so I can cheerfully send my mama and my papa back their investment in me without any dent in my pocket!
    Harry nibbled his pencil and squinted in the dim backstage light, thinking hard. If he could find a penny-printer willing to press a single handbill, he could include aflyer with his stage name on it – The Great Houdini! – that would thrill Ma to no end.
    He looked at the little stack of money he was enclosing with the letter. It was all the savings he had. He had intended sending his first week’s wage home as part-payment for the boat fare. There was no first week’s wage on the horizon now, of course, but Harry couldn’t stand the thought of wandering about with a pocketful of cash while his ma was tearing her hair out trying to pay the rent.
    He smiled at the thought of her opening the envelope and all the money showering out. Then she’d unfold the handbill, see his name on the top, and turn and show it to all the others.
    Mein Ehrich! she’d say. The Great Houdini!
    Yes, he’d go tomorrow and get that bill printed up. Grinning, he set pencil to paper again. I am enclosing a copy of the bill Mr Simmons (stage manager) has had printed up. As you can see, I am using my new stage name—
    â€˜Harry?’
    Tina stepped into the wings. Harry shoved the letter and pencil in his pocket as she offered him the steaming mug she carried. ‘Oh, say!’ he whispered. ‘Thanks! How’s Mr Gosling?’
    She sat on the sandbags beside him. ‘He just finished his shift. I snuck him into Miss U’s room.