Roaring Liberty: The Queenstown Series - Book 4 by Jean Grainger

Author:Jean Grainger [Grainger, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

‘What do we think?’ Jerry asked, as Harp, JohnJoe and Elliot changed out of their costumes.

‘I love the idea,’ called JohnJoe from behind the screen where he was undressing. ‘What do you say, Harp? After we do the show in Dublin, we can take a side trip to see your mom and Matt? Maybe they might even come to see us! We can get them tickets for the show, put them up in a hotel?’

Harp handed her costume to Celia after climbing into her real clothes. For the stage, she wore sequinned sheer dresses that stopped at the knee in a variety of colours, all painstakingly hand-sewn by Celia, and the new fashion of dropped waists suited her slim figure. She regularly bemoaned the fact that her breasts were tiny, but JohnJoe said she was small but perfectly formed, and that was enough for her. For everyday wear, though, she’d taken to wearing what the Americans called knickers, something that she told JohnJoe would have Rose lying in a darkened room with distress since in Ireland knickers were ladies’ underwear; here they were knee-length trousers. She got some odd looks, but she found them so comfortable and she got away with it, being an artistic type.

‘I’d love to perform at the Abbey,’ she said. ‘And of course I’d love to see Mammy and Matt, so it’s a yes from me. What do you think, Elliot? Celia? Our first international tour? Mr Yeats and Lady Gregory founded the Abbey Theatre, you know, and Ireland had the first national theatre in the world. It would be such an honour to perform there. It’s almost a symbol of Irish culture, and after all we’ve endured, there’s something wonderful about having a theatre where we perform our own songs and music and plays.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ said Celia through a mouthful of pins, as she sat down to fix Harp’s costume. There was a rip in one seam that needed sewing before it got any bigger and the whole thing came apart on stage. ‘Though are there many coloured people in Ireland?’

‘I’ve never even seen one, so you’ll be very exotic.’ Harp grinned. ‘You’ll be like a glamorous peacock in a flock of boring old pigeons.’

‘Well, that’ll make a change, I guess,’ Celia remarked dryly.

‘Sure, if you four are on, then so am I. The idea of sleeping on the ship for a week is the best bit,’ Elliot said, yawning.

‘Ain’t that the truth,’ JohnJoe agreed, emerging from behind his screen, shrugging on his jacket.

Harp smiled at him as she removed the sequins from her hair. She was tired, and while the shows were going from strength to strength, especially now that Elliot’s song was being played over and over in the music shops by musicians of all kinds and the sheet music was selling like hot cakes, she longed for a break. She’d been to Chicago with one of Rothstein’s vaudeville touring entourages, and met up with Chief O’Neill, which was a lovely experience.

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