The manager met them and after introducing himself as Mr Ricardo he led them into a large room with tables dotted around a small stage and a bar along one wall. Dusty palm trees in huge pots, all looking in desperate need of a drink, were dotted here and there, and Kitty supposed this was where the club had got its name from. A band was tuning up at the side of the stage and the musicians welcomed her, making her feel a little easier. Max had already told them what songs she would be singing, and in what key, so there should be no problem there; Kitty would have liked to do a rehearsal with them, but there was no time for that now. The club would be opening shortly, but she wouldn’t be appearing until later in the evening.

‘Are you quite sure she’s ready for this? She looks awfully young.’ Mr Ricardo wore a worried expression on his face as he eyed Kitty dubiously up and down.

‘I haven’t got to be one of the best theatrical agents in the business by chance,’ Max told him coldly and the manager shrugged. What would be, would be. If the girl did turn out to be a flop at least he wouldn’t have to book her again. Clicking his fingers, he instructed a young waitress, ‘Show Miss Nightingale to her dressing room.’

‘Yes, sir, right away.’ The girl smiled at Kitty in a friendly fashion and Kitty began to weave her way in and out of the tables as she followed her to a door in the back room.

‘I shall join you shortly to help you get changed,’ Ruby shouted after her and Kitty nodded. After passing through the door she found herself in a long corridor with other doors leading off it. There were also steps leading up to the stage behind the curtains that were presently drawn across it.

‘Your first time here, is it?’ the girl asked conversationally as Kitty kept close to her heels, dodging the other performers who were milling about.

‘It’s my first time anywhere,’ Kitty admitted with a rueful grin. ‘And I have to admit I’m a bag of nerves.’

‘Don’t be,’ the girl told her. ‘By the time you come on, the clientèle we get in here will probably be so drunk they won’t even listen to you. Half the time they just carry on talking through the acts.’

It wasn’t exactly what Kitty had wanted to hear but she was determined to make the best of it for Max. He had gone to so much trouble that she was terrified of letting him down now – and Ruby, for that matter.

The girl stopped in front of a door with paint peeling from it. Kitty’s name was written on a piece of paper that had been tacked to it and the girl told her, ‘This is your room then, such as it is. Good luck, dearie. I’ll perhaps see you later.’ With that she was gone and Kitty pushed the door open and stepped inside.