Ernest and Gabriel shook hands, formally, as two young gentlemen
should. They looked at each other for a long time. Ernest had a pile of
questions that he was keeping penned in, and he could hardly breathe in case
any of them should escape from him. Gabriel, it seemed, was simply amused.
After walking all round Ernest he patted him lightly on the shoulder.
‘Come on old chap – can’t keep the ladies waiting, what?’ He sauntered off through the corridors of the theatre as if he owned the very walls. Ernest, trotting after him like his page, began to wonder if Gabriel really did.
Maggie, Sals and the dancers, together with Julian, Sandy and Captain Moretti, were in a gaggle by the back door. The girls were peeking out to see how many gentleman admirers were waiting for them. Sals seemed less than delighted by the sight of the men, and a couple of women waiting along the length of the alley. ‘Oh gawd I hate this part. ‘ she said. ‘It gives me stage fright more than the bloody singing does. There’s nowhere to hide out there – if they get hold of me.’
‘Nothing to worry about sweetie.’ Said Sandy. ‘The menfolk will protect you.’
‘Men folk? Pish.’ Said Sals, teasing him. ‘All I see is you and your better half, two little boys and the Captain and he’s got his eyes on – on where they didn’t out to be.’ She finished, looking across at Moretti who was ogling one of the dancers. He grinned back.
Julian took Sals by the arm. ‘Come on girl. Let’s run the perverts’ gauntlet.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Said Ernest, taking her other hand. She smiled at him. ‘Brave and good manners. You’ll go far. Hold tight though. I warn you – they can get keen.’
Ernest had almost to run to keep up with Sals, who marched as quickly as she could, sidestepping the men who were grabbing at her, blowing kisses, and calling to her. One of the women was waiting with a rose in her hand, and she threw herself in front of Sals and kissed her, to a chorus of cheers and insults. Julian peeled her off. At the end of the alley Sals, followed by the rest of the company,
broke into a run, and they managed to shake off their admirers who were not ardent enough to follow them into the backstreets. They stopped, panting and giggling, outside a pub with curved windows of frosted glass. A large man stood, arms folded, in the tiled entrance way.
‘Don’t think so love.’ He said to Sals, when she asked to be admitted. ‘Don’t like the looks of the company you keep.’ He stared straight at Julian.
‘Don’t like the look of you either’ drawled Julian. ‘Dear me, sweetie – that neckerchief with that jacket. What was you thinking?’
‘Julian…’ warned Sals. ‘No trouble now – we just want a bit of supper.’
‘I’m not causing trouble, darling. I am offering advice to a friend.’ Said Julian, giving an exaggerated smile to the bouncer.
‘I ain’t your friend. I ain’t one of you.’
‘And thank the good Lord for that – on both counts.’ Julian stepped up to eyeball the bouncer, who took a half step back, suddenly aware that Julian was over six foot tall and sturdily built. ‘But I would like to be sure – before my friends and I find a more convivial public house – am I barred because I’m a pansy, or because of my colour?’
Ernest thought this was the bravest thing he had ever heard. The bouncer thought otherwise, and raised a fist, but Julian, having made his point, ducked neatly, and Ernest found himself running away in the middle of the group down yet another dark street. They stopped for a breather.
‘Blimey Julian can’t you pipe down for one evening. Every time we go out it’s a bloody crusade.’ Complained Maggie, coughing.
‘He was very brave.’ Said Sandy.
‘He was bloody stupid.’
‘I can’t scrub meself white, sweetie. I was born this way.’ Protested Julian. ‘But as I am now near starvation, I promise to be good so as we can go and eat. So long as I don’t have to stay outside with the dogs.’
‘Come on old chap – can’t keep the ladies waiting, what?’ He sauntered off through the corridors of the theatre as if he owned the very walls. Ernest, trotting after him like his page, began to wonder if Gabriel really did.
Maggie, Sals and the dancers, together with Julian, Sandy and Captain Moretti, were in a gaggle by the back door. The girls were peeking out to see how many gentleman admirers were waiting for them. Sals seemed less than delighted by the sight of the men, and a couple of women waiting along the length of the alley. ‘Oh gawd I hate this part. ‘ she said. ‘It gives me stage fright more than the bloody singing does. There’s nowhere to hide out there – if they get hold of me.’
‘Nothing to worry about sweetie.’ Said Sandy. ‘The menfolk will protect you.’
‘Men folk? Pish.’ Said Sals, teasing him. ‘All I see is you and your better half, two little boys and the Captain and he’s got his eyes on – on where they didn’t out to be.’ She finished, looking across at Moretti who was ogling one of the dancers. He grinned back.
Julian took Sals by the arm. ‘Come on girl. Let’s run the perverts’ gauntlet.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Said Ernest, taking her other hand. She smiled at him. ‘Brave and good manners. You’ll go far. Hold tight though. I warn you – they can get keen.’
Ernest had almost to run to keep up with Sals, who marched as quickly as she could, sidestepping the men who were grabbing at her, blowing kisses, and calling to her. One of the women was waiting with a rose in her hand, and she threw herself in front of Sals and kissed her, to a chorus of cheers and insults. Julian peeled her off. At the end of the alley Sals, followed by the rest of the company,
broke into a run, and they managed to shake off their admirers who were not ardent enough to follow them into the backstreets. They stopped, panting and giggling, outside a pub with curved windows of frosted glass. A large man stood, arms folded, in the tiled entrance way.
‘Don’t think so love.’ He said to Sals, when she asked to be admitted. ‘Don’t like the looks of the company you keep.’ He stared straight at Julian.
‘Don’t like the look of you either’ drawled Julian. ‘Dear me, sweetie – that neckerchief with that jacket. What was you thinking?’
‘Julian…’ warned Sals. ‘No trouble now – we just want a bit of supper.’
‘I’m not causing trouble, darling. I am offering advice to a friend.’ Said Julian, giving an exaggerated smile to the bouncer.
‘I ain’t your friend. I ain’t one of you.’
‘And thank the good Lord for that – on both counts.’ Julian stepped up to eyeball the bouncer, who took a half step back, suddenly aware that Julian was over six foot tall and sturdily built. ‘But I would like to be sure – before my friends and I find a more convivial public house – am I barred because I’m a pansy, or because of my colour?’
Ernest thought this was the bravest thing he had ever heard. The bouncer thought otherwise, and raised a fist, but Julian, having made his point, ducked neatly, and Ernest found himself running away in the middle of the group down yet another dark street. They stopped for a breather.
‘Blimey Julian can’t you pipe down for one evening. Every time we go out it’s a bloody crusade.’ Complained Maggie, coughing.
‘He was very brave.’ Said Sandy.
‘He was bloody stupid.’
‘I can’t scrub meself white, sweetie. I was born this way.’ Protested Julian. ‘But as I am now near starvation, I promise to be good so as we can go and eat. So long as I don’t have to stay outside with the dogs.’
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