‘Where’s Simon?’ she whispered.

‘I don’t know nothin’ about ’im,’ said the child. ‘But the girl who brought the note sayin’ ’e wasn’t coming seemed upset. Said she thought that Ma Mud, what looks after them, had gone mad.’

Liza had a squirrel mind. That is to say, she stored up bits of information in the back of her mind in case it might be useful. Later on, what she stored from that little whispered talk was that it was not only in The Dolphin that they were upset. Ma Mud was too. Now, what was she in a taking about?

The audience was kind to Liza, giving her such generous applause that Sir John led her forward to take a call on her own.

‘Well done, dear,’ said Miss Grey. ‘I’ve taken Katie up to bed and Mrs Beamish will wait with her until I get back so hurry up and change, you must be very tired.’

It was then that Liza noticed that Miss Grey was warmly dressed for the street.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

‘I’m taking you home. You remember Mr Smith arranged it. You were told, but you’ve forgotten it, I expect.’

Dimly Liza did remember talk about her getting home but she had paid no attention. Home had seemed such a long way off.

‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ll go alone like I always do.’

Miss Grey smiled. ‘I dare say you don’t want me, but I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me. Mr Smith’s orders. They don’t want to mislay the understudy as well as the principal.’

Liza was sure from what she had seen of her that what Miss Grey decided should be done was done, so she said no more but sat down at the dressing table and took off her make-up.

Liza knew Miss Grey did not know London. When she said she lived near Covent Garden it was just a neighbourhood to Miss Grey. She would not know if Liza took her to the wrong street.

In some way Liza felt Simon’s absence was connected with Margaret’s disappearance. She simply had to find out. She had to have a look at Ma Mud’s house.

Chapter Twenty-four

A WHISTLE IN THE DARK

Margaret had just finished scrubbing the hall when Matron was rushing down the stairs. She seemed, thought Margaret drearily, to get more mad every moment. If I wasn’t so hungry and if that room didn’t smell so terrible I would be almost glad I was going to be locked up for the night.

‘Throw away that dirty water and rinse out that cleaning rag, then come with me. The children tell me there are cockroaches and rats where I’m putting you.’

Emptying the water in the kitchen Margaret tried not to shiver but she had to speak severely to herself to stop. ‘You can’t be so weak-spirited, Margaret Thursday, that you’d let Matron see you were frightened.’ The talking-to did her good and by the time she rejoined Matron in the hall her chin was high. This annoyed Matron, who sprang at her and tried to drag her up the stairs. Margaret was not having that, she shook Matron off and dusted her sleeves where Matron’s hands had touched her.