Page 5 of The Songbird of Wychwood

MISS GEORGETTE

The only way to survive as a performer in a house full of licentious queer gents is to appeal to their darker, saucier side. And so the character of Miss Georgette was designed to be supremely confident and aimed to cater to the members desire to have fun. She was the madam, the coquette, the virgin and the whore all rolled into one.

I figured the night would proceed much the same as always. The club members would arrive, met by Mr. Joshua. The gents were all elites. Dukes, judges, bankers, and politicians. There could even be a prince among them for all I knew. We offered much to do for the evening. I’d always begin the entertainment with jaunty popular music hall numbers that I knew got gentlemen in a merry mood. They were here for pleasure, so they ate, drank, and requested particular songs that I would sing and encourage them to join in and sing along. Several men went upstairs and changed into ladies’ garments as soon as they arrived. Some used the gaming room for billiards, cards, and board games. Others puffed on fragrant cigars in the smoking room and conversed. As the evening drew in I’d sing slower, more romantic songs, and fellows would take their beau to the dance floor for a cuddle as they swayed to the music before they would head to the bedrooms to get their pleasures met. I loved watching gentlemen dancing together. It was something that they would never be able to do it at any of the society balls. A simple dance with a fellow was so precious, yet so taboo. Some of these men were like me, desperate romantics in want of love, and not just sex. They held one another earnestly close, swaying to the piano melody and not caring about the dances of the season or propriety. It brought a tear to my eye at times, cos it reminded me that I was lonely and I too wished for a beau of my own.

I never went with any of the gents who attended Wychwood. Miss Georgette was a coquette. She didn’t mind a flirt, and on the occasion of an invitation to dance, took a turn around the floor with a fellow or two, but I wasn’t a rent boy! Mr. Joshua made it clear when we first met that intimacy with guests was against the rules for performers. He had a keen eye and I wouldn’t risk this job for a suck or a tumble.

That was what I’d thought before I saw the newcomer. He’d arrived alone and stood in the wide doorway between the dining room and music room watching me perform. I’d given him a saucy wink and did a little dance as I sang a favourite of my gents called ‘I hope the Peeler’s don’t pass by’. He looked ever so handsome in his tailcoat with bright green eyes trained on me, and an untamed mop of straw blond curls. He smiled warmly, and smoothed his fingers over his fair moustache and he applauded enthusiastically when I finished the song. Then he was gone and I felt a little bereft, I couldn’t understand why. I sang another song and then I did a turn of the ground floor of the house going room to room to flirt and ensure the gents were having a good time. I saw the newcomer in the gaming room. He looked up from his hand of cards and it could have been my imagination, but I was sure his emerald green eyes sparkled when he saw me. He pushed all of his coins into the center of the table to join a big pile of sovereigns. His opponent laid his hand down and believing he’d won, and moved to pull his winnings closer. But my new gent grinned at his opponent and then displayed his hand. He had the winning the hand, for a Royal Flush cannot be beaten. The men observing the game roared in delight and slapped him on the back. He gathered the pile of gold sovereigns he’d just won and began stacking them. Then he picked up a coin, and tossed it to me. Shocked by his generosity I snatched it from the air. I popped the coin in a pocket I’d sewn into the skirt for this very reason! I blew a kiss to the blond gentleman, and then I left the gaming room and continued to circulate and flirt before returning to the music room for my next song.

Mr. Hugo and I had decided on a set of waltzes that would bring gents to dance. The new man arrived in the music room half way through the first waltz. He took a glass of claret and a plate of food and while gentlemen twirl together, he seated himself, watching me as if he was at a recital. It was clear to me that, as this gentleman was new; one of the other members had been barred for breaking the rules, or had died as they were the only ways a new man would be admitted to the club. The new fellow was approached twice while I performed but the gents soon moved on when it was clear he wasn’t interested in anything more than a natter. I had a liking for lost sheep and this fellow looked a little out of his depth. During my next break I took a drink with several swells, flirted, and shared a ribald story or two. Mr. Joshua sidled up to me at one point to check all was well.

“What’s the number of our newcomer?” I enquired gesturing to the handsome blond man who had given me the generous tip.

“He’s the new number 36.”

“What happened to the old number 36?”

“He lost a duel.”

“Ahh.” That must have been a nasty business. 36 weren’t socializing; he sat alone in the music room appearing lost in his thoughts as Mr. Hugo played. How was he going to meet a fellow for a bit of comfort if he didn’t speak to no one? I clutched my shawl and went back in.

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