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Chapter 4 – Fizzle Sizzle


The place across the street proved not to be Chomundley’s Chemist Shop, but a far different establishment. A wholly and completely unsuitable establishment for either a young lady such as Miss Harlan or even a bachelor like himself, yet Miss Harlan, who was still holding his hand, drew him across the street against all the traffic and down an unlit alley and into a public house called The Raven. The pub was a white-washed and half-timbered house with guttering gas lights over the door and a weathered board sign painted with a raven wearing a red coat and tipping his black hat.

“Miss Harlan, I don’t think you appreciate the nature of this establishment. It’s most unsuitable for a young lady like yourself. Please let me take you to the chemist’s shop for a sarsaparilla or a root beer.”

“Don’t be kerflummoxed,” she said as she pushed through the front door. “I know the owner.”

William felt he had no choice but to follow. It wouldn’t do to allow Miss Harlan to come to harm.

Miss Harlan walked right up to the bar and pushed her way through the crowd of men. She called out to the bar man. “Cagey!”

Cagey Leander came forward with his white bar cloth in his huge hands. He was a solid plug of a man, beefy shoulders, a bald head and a nose that had been broken more than once. “Well, well then, if it isn’t our little Yank songbird. Come to favor us with a song this evening?”

“Cagey, this is my new friend, Billy Pratt. Billy, this is Cagey Leander.” She hooked her arm through the crook of William’s elbow and pulled him up to the bar. “Tumble us to a couple of drinks, will you?”

This was most bewildering. Miss Harlan told him that she was new in town, but she had formed an acquaintance with this Cagey person. He shuddered at her impetuous behavior yet, at the same time, felt rather exhilarated to be introduced to a rough person like this bar man.

“I might supply the needful, if you’ll give the gents a little treat.” He set up two large glasses of brown ale.

“Let me wet my whistle first and I’m your huckleberry.”

She took the two glasses and headed for a tiny table in a dark corner of the room. William felt he had no choice but to follow. It was his duty as a gentleman, to protect her from the unwanted attentions of the rude men who drank swore and smoked filthy cigars all about them. Several of them cast admiring glances at her as they passed. William hoped it would not become necessary to defend her honor. He was not a good fighter, as his many altercations with Charles Bloxham had proved.

She plumped herself down at the table and took a long drink of ale. “That’s much better. Here, Billy, I have a present for you.” She fished around in her green beaded reticule and brought out the tin bird. She placed it on the table in front of him.

“Where did you get this? I didn’t see you purchase it from the clerk.” A frightening thought crossed his mind. What if she had taken the bird without paying?

“I fluffed it for you. Take it!” She smiled and touched his sleeve with her long, white fingers.

“You might have been caught. The police are very harsh about this sort of thing.” This wasn’t the right thing to say. He should have admonished her for her immoral behavior, yet, as he looked in her flashing green eyes, he could only think of the terrible risk she’d taken.

She laughed. “Not me. Easy as gooseberries.”

“I see. Well, thank you.” He placed the bird inside his coat pocket. He would have to return it tomorrow and explain to the store’s manager the bird had been taken by accident. The thought of lying made his face glow. After that, he’d never be able to show his face in the store and God only knew how he would explain to his mother the next time she sent him there for a purchase.

Miss Harlan’s face wrinkled into a soft frown. “You’re not going to jack me up over a hickeymadoodle, are you?”

“Jack you? I don’t have the pleasure of understanding you.”

“You know, call the police. Have me arrested.”

“Not this time.” William smiled. She was apparently not the hardened criminal she fancied herself. He took a sip of his ale. It was not something he treated himself to very often and the sour malt tasted pleasant in his mouth. In a moment, the alcohol whirled through his brain. He loosened his collar a fraction, leaned back in his chair and admired his companion. “Tell me about your travels, Miss Harlan.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Let’s don’t make flicky talk. There’s so little time. I want to tell you something. Promise you won’t laugh?”

Miss Harlan was so full of life and surprises. He didn’t understand many of the things she said, but he found he didn’t mind. “I would never laugh at anything you choose to tell me.” His voice was low and solemn.

“You seem like a kind man. I have a crush on you. Do you mind?”

William didn’t know what to say. He’d never dreamed that a vivacious girl like Miss Harlan would show him slightest interest. “You scarcely know me.”

“I know your face. It’s the face of a kind man, a good man. Say you like me, too, Billy.”

He took her hand in both of his and hoped she wouldn’t pull away. “I do like you, very much, Miss Harlan.”

Across the room, Mr. Leander seated himself at an upright piano and picked out a sentimental tune.

“Have to pay for the freshers,” she said. She pushed her way through the crowd of men, laughing and greeting one or two until she reached the piano. She fastened her eyes on William’s face, folded her hands together and sang.

I am dreaming Dear of you, day by day
Dreaming when the skies are blue, When they're gray;
When the silv'ry moonlight gleams, Still I wander on in dreams,
In a land of love, it seems, Just with you.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.
Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.

William sat frozen in his seat. Dear Miss Harlan was singing a love song right to him. Such a thing had never happened to him before. Her voice was silky sweet without all the trills and embellishments that he was used to hearing at the opera. Despite her plain way of singing, it was most elegant and touching.

The men in the crowd hooted and stomped and whistled when she finished the song. William looked away when their noisemaking turned to him. It was obvious to every man in the room that he was the object of her interest.

As he turned away to hide his embarrassment, he noticed the large man and two women that he’d seen earlier in Harrods, seated a few tables away. This was a most strange coincidence. The man slung his arm around the blonde woman’s shoulders and eased his fingers down the front of her low cut dress and fondled her breast. The man stared at William and raised his glass with his free hand. William blushed and looked down at his own empty glass.

Miss Harlan sang another song, a sad Irish tune that brought tears to his eyes and made him forget about the odd trio.

I'll take you home again, Kathleen
Across the ocean wild and wide
To where your heart has ever been
Since you were first my bonnie bride.
The roses all have left your cheek.
I've watched them fade away and die
Your voice is sad when e'er you speak
And tears bedim your loving eyes.

He fumbled his black-bordered handkerchief out of his suit pocket and dabbed his eyes. He couldn’t remember when he’d been more affected.

After she finished the second song, Miss Harlan spoke into Cagey Leander’s ear. He nodded and started playing an old-fashioned waltz tune. She skipped back to her chair and drew William up from the table.

“Come dance with me.”

Before he could protest, she’d drawn him into a clear space between the tables and one tiny hand was resting on his shoulder. The other clasped his right hand tight. “I beg your pardon, Miss Harlan, but I’m not a very good dancer. I’m afraid that I’ll crush you.”
He wanted to melt with frustration. Why hadn’t he practiced his dancing more when his mother arranged for lessons, instead of being cowed by the smirking and taunts of the other boys? He wasn’t naturally graceful, but he wanted to sweep Miss Harlan away onto a whirling cloud of romance, instead he was reduced to bumbling around in a circle. And, yet, somehow, he found himself dancing across the sawdust strewn floor more than adequately, when he was gazing into her holly green eyes.

“I think you dance like a lambie pie, Billy. But, you must hold me closer.”

William’s arms stretched out stiffly as he fell into the approved pattern of his youthful dancing classes, which did not include embracing young ladies so closely that their bodies actually touched their partners. He relaxed his arms and she cuddled into his chest and rested her blonde curls on his shoulder. His heart beat fast in his chest.

Before they had been dancing more than a few minutes, the pub clock chimed five times.

Miss Harlan pouted and squeezed William’s hand. “I have to go now. Mr. Jennikins will have a litter of black and white kitties if I’m not back before seven.” She headed for the door, waving and smiling at the men in the crowd who catcalled and whistled at her.

“Mr. Jennikins? I don’t care a blast about Mr. Jennikins. Don’t go.” He ran after her, pushing his way through the crowd. Outside the door, he caught her arm. He shouldn’t touch her, but he couldn’t help himself. Proprieties be damned. He couldn’t let this lovely girl go. “Don’t leave me.”

She touched her gloved hand to his cheek. “I have to go to work.”

He paled at the thought. What work could she mean? He shook off the thought. “When can I see you again? I don’t know where to find you.”

She took a pale green playbill out of her reticule. “Come see me tomorrow night. I’ll leave a ticket for you at the box office and you can come round to my dressing room during intermission.”

He jammed the playbill in his coat pocket without looking at it. “You aren’t teasing me? I can see you tomorrow?”

She giggled. “Don’t be a fizzle sizzle. I’ll be waiting.” She stood on tiptoe in her elegant green-buttoned boots and touched her lips to his. “I’m counting on you, Billy.”

She darted out into the street, hailed a passing hack and was gone.