Ghost Song by Rayne Sarah

Author:Rayne, Sarah
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781937384111
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

IT WAS A MATTER OF mild interest to those who moved in thespian circles or in the raffish world of the music halls, that the Tarleton was being refurbished and electrified that November. The management was looking towards the Christmas season, said people, and hoped there would be a lively panto this year. The Tarleton’s rivals said sneeringly that if the place were to be plastered with silver and gilt and given electricity from roof to cellars, it would still be what it had always been: a gaff, a former blood-tub, fit only for the vulgarians.

Another section of the community was currently wondering whether there was any truth in the rumour that Sir Hal Chance had made moves to acquire the freehold of the theatre, and with an air of elbow-nudges and sly winks, asked if his deepening friendship with the infamous Flowered Fan could possibly have anything to do with this.

‘I don’t know how these things get out,’ said Hal to Flora over lunch at Kettner’s. ‘There’ve even been a few comments in the newspapers.’

‘I know. I’m sorry about that,’ said Flora. ‘It’s the juxtaposition of our two names more than anything else. The sum is greater than the parts.’

‘I don’t mind it, you know. And that photo of us in the Morning News was rather a good one, I thought. Well, it was good of you, at any rate.’

Flora said the Morning News was a gossipy old rag and Hal grinned.

‘In any case, it’s perfectly true that I’m interested in buying the Tarleton,’ he said. ‘That’s why I invited you out today to tell you about it properly. I’ve made an approach through my solicitors, to enquire if the present owners might negotiate a sale.’

‘And will they?’

‘They’re being a bit guarded but the signs are very good indeed,’ said Hal, eating partridge au choux with apparent enjoyment. ‘They’ve already agreed to make last year’s accounts available to my solicitor.’

As the main course plates were removed and the pudding brought, Flora found herself struggling against a feeling of inadequacy. Hal Chance had a title and a house in Kensington and an office in Westminster. He helped his masters deal with diplomats and people in foreign embassies, and he prepared reports for cabinet ministers about far-flung places with outlandish names which were part of the British Empire. He had solicitors who did his bidding and provided him with complicated-sounding balance sheets. I wouldn’t know a balance sheet from a laundry list, thought Flora, and I wouldn’t know how to go about buying so much as a potting shed.

I suppose I may as well go to bed with him if he asks me, she thought, dismally eating Kettner’s exquisite charlotte russe; it’s all I’m likely to get and at least I’d have it to remember when I’m old. Because Minnie will be proved right: when it comes down to it, all he’ll want is four bare legs in a bed and no marriage lines on the mantelpiece.

Then Hal said, ‘It’s a massive undertaking, buying a place like that.

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