Mr Evans ’ words were scissors slicing the air . ‘ And I could fund a whole course of medicine until she ’ s back on her feet ?’ ‘ Well , yeah , I s ’ pose . If that ’ s what she needs , sir .’ ‘ And then what ?’ ‘ Sorry sir ? I don ’ t follow .’ ‘ Well , she ’ s never going to dance again . Is she ?’ The clock ticked on . ‘ When I chose to be Ida ’ s patron , I invested in a service . Depending on how bad the , let ’ s say , collateral damage , I don ’ t think that service is available anymore .’
Evans tapped his fingers lightly on the doorframe . These fellows may be able to stand immobile , drinking in the dust and ash with their yawning mouths , but he had a dinner reservation at the club . He tried again to explain , but how to put it without sounding indelicate ?
‘ It depends how badly … Well … It depends on the extent of the girl ’ s disfigurements . Can she realistically still perform ? How visible will the scarring be ? Terrible tragedy , just awful , but there is no plausible reason for me to continue to invest in her career if she is to be , going forward , more suited to another profession . I mean , you don ’ t need patronage to wash clothes or work in a cotton factory , do you ? Such a lovely girl , such a waste ! I must send on some chocolates .’ ‘ Chocolates ?’ the boy cried , his outrage now out-measuring his civility . But Mr Evans was already half-way out of the door . He passed the box office and took a pinch of snuff , his mind on the roast beef that would be waiting for him at his usual table . As he stepped out into the pelting rain , he called back over his shoulder , ‘ Alas , our fallen star .’ Nobody heard him . His words were drowned out by the shouts of angry punters , demanding their money back for a performance cut short by ‘ a goddamn Guy Fawkes show .’
***
Soaps and hairbrushes and sweets in her name – hers . She could see her name etched on that box of scent right there : Ida Webster . In gold ! She had to pinch herself the first time she spotted them displayed in the window of the chemist – what ’ s one more bruise after all ? Her arms , her legs , her feet especially , had pulsing welts all over like blots of ink on parchment . But it was worth it of course . She was the shining star ! And all stars were born from dust . That ’ s what Mr Evans – Jasper ! ‘ Call me Jasper ’ he ’ d said – that ’ s what Jasper had told her . Because of course she had been born in the dust , the ash , the dirt … Les Petit Rats the newspapers called
Kaya Purchase 11