The Shadow Dancers of Brixton Hill by Nicole Willson

Author:Nicole Willson [Willson, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Cemetery Gates Media
Published: 2023-06-13T00:00:00+00:00

Part Three

A few hours later, I met up with everyone outside Oswald’s house to travel to the Cutler Mansion for the party. I would ride with Oswald, and Mrs. Morrigan would follow with the Shadow Dancers. The twilight sky was shot through with clouds in shades of pink and deep blue as we walked down the gravel drive to his sedan.

“Would it be easier for Mrs. Morrigan if some of the girls rode with us?” I asked Oswald. I didn’t relish the idea of being his captive audience for the trip.

“The girls are used to Mildred. She can keep them under control should they start getting rambunctious.”

I thought of how quiet and still the girls had almost always been in my presence. “Do they ever get rambunctious?”

He laughed. “Not at all! But with performance-night nerves, who knows what could happen? Camilla might make another fuss. In any event, Mildred can handle whatever problems might arise.”

The three dancers waited by Mrs. Morrigan’s brown Chevrolet. It was hard to imagine what sort of a fuss any of these tiny, exhausted-looking girls could cause. They all wore tutus of bright pink fabric and tulle with purple sequins that sparkled in the twilight, and their faces were now embellished with heavy pancake makeup, pink lips, and exaggerated eyelashes. But all the colors and cosmetics could not disguise the listlessness in their pale, drawn faces. Camilla’s makeup looked especially stark against her wan face. And none of them wore a coat despite the early-spring chill in the air. My heart sank at the sight of them.

“You girls look lovely tonight,” I tried, hoping to make at least one of them smile. Abigail eyed me with a wary expression. Nobody said anything. Whatever warmth I’d managed to get from them during my afternoon visit was gone.

We piled into our respective cars and set out for the Cutler home, which was approximately an hour away on the outskirts of Williamsburg. Oswald was drenched in a heavy citrus scent that made my eyes water and sting. He glanced at me a couple of times and cleared his throat.

“So, Kate. Have you thought any more about what sort of a deal you might like to strike for my dancers?” This, of course, was why he had wanted me alone in the car with him.

“Of course I’ve been thinking about it. I imagine they’ll be an even bigger draw than Cyril Kurtz, that magnificent illusionist you sent our way. He was our most successful act to date.” A brief memory flashed in my mind: Cyril leaning toward me in a restaurant after a show, lighting my cigarette and whispering “I can make anything disappear—including clothes” with a silky British accent and a wicked gleam in his hazel eyes. That memory brought a warm flush to my cheeks. But Cyril had long since left Montgomery’s Marvels. I’d heard nothing from him in years.

“What did Father offer you for Cyril’s services? We’ll want to give you much more for the Shadow Dancers, of course.

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