Whirlwind by Charlotte Lamb Read Free Book Online Page A

eating the minced beef with its golden crust of mashed potato topped with cheese x that Anna wondered how Patti's father knew Laird.
    She looked sideways; Patti was watching Dame Flossie, who had launched into one of her hilarious anecdotes about a famous theatre knight from an earlier decade.
    'Is your father in the theatre?' Anna asked casually, and Patti's head swung round, she looked startled, then laughed, her eyes dancing.
    'Good lord, no! Daddy was a builder.'
    'Is that how he met Laird Montgomery?'
    Patti nodded. 'Yes, Daddy did some work for Laird's company. If you knew my father, you'd realise how funny it is . . . imagining he could be an actor, I mean! He's only interested in two things —roses and bees. He retired six years ago, he has had a bad heart and his firm got too much for him, so he started growing roses. He wins prizes with them and Mummy say she's sick of honey—the garden's full of hives and although they sell most of the honeycombs Daddy likes to see his own honey on the table.'
    One of the cast tapped a knife hilt on the table. 'Quiet, everyone! I want to propose a toast. Dame Flossie, a happy birthday and many, many more of them!'
    They all lifted their glasses and echoed the toast, then sang 'Happy Birthday to you . . . ' watched, smilingly, by everyone else in the pub, some of whom joined in with gusto. Dame Flossie was one of the best known, best loved faces in London's theatre, and people wanted to show how they felt about her.
    She glowed happily as she rose to make a little speech. 'Thank you, darlings. You're very sweet and I love working with you—every morning I get up feeling old and tired and then I come to work and your enthusiasm and energy makes me young again; you charge up my failing old batteries! With your help I firmly intend to reach my century and get that telegram from the Queen.'
    They clapped noisily and she sat down, flushed and excited—visibly delighting in having a receptive audience.
    Ten minutes later they hurried back across the road, dodging cars, with cheerful grins at the irate drivers, and found Joey waiting for them, tapping his foot ominously, a smouldering volcano in his eyes, but Dame Flossie gave him her most enchanting smile and threw her arms around him.
    'Now don't be cross, Joey! We've been celebrating my birthday and we're only a few minutes late!'
    He eyed her, his face sardonic. 'You're a wicked old woman,' he accused, but shrugged. 'OK, I'll skip the lecture, but can we please get down to work and no more time-wasting?' His gaze moved to Anna. 'Now, Anna, shall we go over your scene again?'
    By the time they left the theatre that evening, Anna felt like chewed string. For a second as she walked out into the chilly night she had a sinking suspicion - that she would see the blue and silver Rolls pulled up at the kerb, but there was no sign of Laird Montgomery and she caught her usual bus home.
    Her landlady was waiting for her, one ear cocked for the sound of Anna's key in the lock. She shot out like a spider when a fly unwarily crashes into its web.
    'Miss Rendle!'
    Anna was ready for her, and she turned, and smiled triumphantly. 'Oh, yes, the rent, Mrs Gawton.' She opened her handbag and counted out the money into the waiting hand. The cashier had sent for her that afternoon and advanced the sum she requested. She would just have enough left to pay her fares and buy a little food until Friday.
    Mrs Gawton clutched the notes with one hand while the other held out a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of red roses, long-stemmed buds with a dewy look.
    Anna was dumbfounded, until the landlady commented maliciously, 'Got yourself a rich boyfriend at last, have you? You didn't come home last night, did you? Oh, I noticed, went up and banged on your door a couple of times. Thought you were hiding because you didn't have the rent, but I suppose you were out earning it.'
    Anna's face stiffened and burned. Carrying the roses, she turned on her heel.
    'There's a note