Gold Web by Vicki Delany

Author:Vicki Delany
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2013-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

17

Monday morning, I was pleased to see the first of the photographs of the dancers appearing around town. I had instructed Murray to collect the copies from Miss Jennings and place them in prominent places. The most prominent being the front window of the Savoy. When I left, heading for the bank, a group of men were standing in front of it, studying the picture.

“Hey.” One of them hailed me as I passed.

“I beg your pardon?” He was much taller than I, at well over six feet, but I managed to look down my nose at him.

“You work here?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. May I be of assistance?”

He took off his cap and scratched his head. I tried to ignore the insects scurrying for cover. “That lady in that there picture, she dances here?”

“Every night of the week, save Sunday. The show begins at eight o’clock.” Our advertisement was working already!

“I might come and see it then,” he said. “Right pretty lady.”

“That is Lady Irénée, the most popular dancer in the Yukon. The seats fill up quickly, so do come in good time.”

“What’s the name of the older one then?”

“The older one?” I peered at the photograph. The man was missing the first joint of his index finger. He used the stub to tap at the image of Irene, dead centre.

“Yeah, this one. She looks like she has a few miles on her. Might do for my pa there.” He indicated the oldest of the men, who stood grinning at me through a wad of chewing tobacco.

Good heavens, he’d been attracted, not by Irene, but by Colleen, standing to the right of centre. Colleen, merely a chorus dancer and percentage girl.

I walked off without answering the man’s question. Colleen hadn’t shown much in the way of talent, but that was no reason to not have a stage career in Dawson. Few of the performers in any of the dance halls did. I might move Colleen forward for a couple of the dances, perhaps ask her if she could sing. See how the men reacted. If they liked her, maybe she could have a solo.

I completed my banking and, rather than going home for my morning nap, headed up the hill. I needed a new gown. I knew where the best-quality fabric in town was to be found.

I also knew that, for me, the price would be astronomical.

Being Monday morning, I figured Irene was likely to be awake. The girls danced every night until six a.m. so naturally they slept during the day. Sunday the Savoy was closed, as was everything else, so they often slept right around the clock. She might, of course, not be in. Monday was the best day for dancers and performers, and me, to do household tasks, shopping and the like. It was unfortunate we did not have the use of a telephone in Dawson. It would make life most convenient, I thought as I trudged through the streets on what might be a useless trip, if one could telephone in advance to ascertain if one would be received.

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