Cat Among the Pigeons Read Free

being entirely straight.
    Pedro sighed. ‘I suppose I’m paying the price for it now. You see, my . . . my old master passed me on to a man called Jack Grimes down in Bristol – it was a kind of loan. Grimes dragged me around the provincial theatres and private parties – “the noble savage and his violin”, he called me. Dressed me in the most ridiculous outfits.’ Pedro curled his lip with distaste.
    â€˜Not much changed then,’ I said, gesturing to Pedro’s Ariel costume.
    â€˜If you think this is stupid, you should’ve seen what I had to wear then. On second thoughts,I’m pleased you didn’t. I feel ashamed just thinking about it.’ Pedro managed a wry smile. ‘Anyway, last year Grimes ran into Signor Angelini during the summer circuit. The maestro was taken with my talent. Grimes thought he’d make a bit of extra money by arranging the apprenticeship. I knew then that it was an odd agreement – Signor Angelini paid him money to sign me up, realizing he’d get it all back through my earnings. I didn’t say anything – the maestro seemed a much better bet than either Grimes or Mr . . . Mr Hawkins. I thought he could teach me things, turn me into a real artist and not just some musical freak show.’
    â€˜So Mr Hawkins is right to say that your articles of apprenticeship aren’t worth anything?’ I asked quietly.
    He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Cat. Is that what he claimed?’
    I nodded.
    Pedro stared at the flickering lantern inmisery. There seemed to be nothing more either of us could say.
    â€˜I’m not going back to him. I’m not,’ he broke out suddenly. ‘I’ll kill myself before I let him a lay a finger on me again.’ Pedro ground his fist into his palm.
    â€˜Of course you’re not. He can’t take you against your will.’
    â€˜What? Him a rich man, and me a runaway slave – who’ll protect me?’
    â€˜Who’ll protect you?’ I caught his hand in mine. ‘Why, your friends of course.’
    He squeezed my hand in silent thanks.
    â€˜Look, we’d better go and explain all this to Mr Kemble while Mr Sheridan is still out of town.’ I rose to shake out my skirts. ‘Then I think we should pay a call on Grosvenor Square. I’ll send word that we’re coming and arrange an escort to keep you safe from that villain Hawkins.’
    Pedro’s face perked up at this suggestion. ‘You think Frank and Lizzie can help?’
    â€˜I’m sure of it. It took an earl to get me off ahanging over the diamond * ; a lord and lady might just do the trick for you.’
    We were still left with the problem that Pedro was dead.
    It was a greater difficulty than you might first imagine. His name was already on all the playbills printed for the opening night of
The Tempest
. Mr Kemble had half-confirmed my wild claim to Hawkins that Pedro had succumbed to a fever; he would be in hot water if he was proved to have lied to the man. It didn’t matter what I said – no one took
me
seriously – but Mr Kemble’s word counted for something in London. As Pedro and I made our way upstairs, I realized that the first thing we had to do was straighten the matter out.
    â€˜Pedro, do you prefer to be dead, or should we drop the story?’ I whispered as we waited outside Mr Kemble’s office. The dress rehearsalhad been delayed – and, by now, everyone knew why. Two half-dressed ballerinas clucked sympathetically at Pedro as they passed us in the corridor. A stagehand, carrying a model of a sailing ship on the way to the carpenter’s workshop, slapped him on the back wordlessly.
    â€˜I can’t see how we can pretend I’m someone else,’ said Pedro, leaning against the wall dejectedly. ‘I’m too well known.’
    â€˜But with the mask, couldn’t we . . .?’
    â€˜No,’ he cut in. ‘Maybe