Playing for Supper, ...and mostly in vain.

[Renate MacGregor]

((January 20th, Early Evening))

Anyone passing by the Pavilion just before suppertime could easily hear the gay music coming from inside. The little anabaric lights that decorated the front of the theater glowed and threw a strange, unearthly glimmer to everything on the street below. And as the crowd milled around in front of the theater waiting for it to open to accept them (for a new variety show was opening tonight, the posters and flyers had been up for weeks!)and almost everyone spoke with an air of excitement and eagerness. Nobody would have really taken note of the sturdy young girl standing just down the street from the theater...except that her music drowned out the pantomime box and electrified everything on that street with energy and life.

Renate played a jaunting little tune and her fingers moved light and quick on the strings, her bow angling across them. And yet nobody paid any attention to her. Everyone seemed to notice the music--the children shuffled in little dancing steps to the tune and even the adults seemed to be energized by it somehow...but nobody noticed who played it. Still she played on and on, looking down at the shilling and five pence in her fiddle case. She afforded herself a sigh of dismay between verses.

((open to anyone!))

[Edwina Boyd]

Edwina was out in town again. It has been Mrs Wilcox's suggestion that she take the evening off. The driver had seemed reluctant to drive her to this end of town again for some reason, so she'd shooed him off as soon as they got there. She couldn't bring herself to go to the places Mrs Wilcox went. A waste of an absurd amount of money she didn't have.

There was a large amount of people brewing around the Pavilion Theatre, and it didn't take long for her to notice the flyers announcing a show. Never having gone to the theatre, though she'd heard her father speak of it, she debated about joining the crowd. A pleasant tune was playing and at first she thought it was a musician somewhere in the crowd - perhaps hired by the theatre to entertain those waiting in que. But as she stepped lightly to the beat around a couple of young children dancing to the jaunty tune, she spied something off down the sidewalk.

A girl was playing a violin on the corner, her bow dancing along the strings. She slipped past the crowd temporarily, her curiousity peaked. As she approached she saw the open fiddle case on the crowd and the coins in it. A street player? Edwina blinked, a bit surprised. The girl was as good if not better than any musician she'd heard play - not that she was an expert. The extent of her musical knowledge being vague memories of musicians hired by her mother to play at parties for the officers and their families.

She wasn't really one to throw away money, but she hesitated by the case thoughtfully. It was probably a trick, a sensible side to her said. She probably took coins out when the case looked too full. How could someone who played so well be on a street corner at all, though? After a moment's hesitation she slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat, and a half-crown joined the coins in the fiddle box. She offered the girl a smile, stepping back to listen to her play some more.

[Renate MacGregor]

Renate noticed. How could she help it? She saw the glinting coin fall with a muted clink on top of the very few others and felt a warm, sincere smile spread across her face.

"Thank you!" she whispered it under her breath. And turned to the girl, smiling. Younger than her, it looked like. And all alone! "What would you like to hear?"

[Edwina Boyd]

Edwina blinked in surprise. She supposed it made sense to ask, since she'd added her coin in and hung around. "Um...something happy?" She suggested, feeling a bit foolish. She did know a few songs, but her mind had blanked upon hearing the question. "Sorry, don't know much about music - except that it's pretty." She offered an embarrassed smile to the violin player.

[Renate MacGregor]

"Haha!" Renate found her mood lightened almost instantly! She gave a little rock on her heels and set into a new song.

"I tell you, that's all anybody needs to know. At the heart of it." she grinned at the girl (and...was she a girl? Not a child, but she was dressed awful funny...scandalously so in fact...) and shook of her inward judgements. The girl/not girl had given her a coin after all. She launched into a merry bouncing jig and even found her feet moving in little steps.

"My father wrote this. It's one of my favourites." she smiled over.

[Edwina Boyd]

Edwina found her foot tapping to the tune. She swayed slightly, smiling up at the violin player. She'd had very little introduction to things like music and theater. Neither her father or either of her brothers had had the time, or the inkling, to teach her about them. Her brothers had preferred other hobbies, and there hadn't been anyplace to go to learn of them. Most of her life until her father and brother's untimely death had been spent inside the walls of their house.

"It's lovely! He must be ever so talented." She replied to the other girl's statement. She couldn't imagine her own father could have written so much as a poem, let alone composed a piece of music.

[Renate MacGregor]

"Oh, he is." the blonde gave a wide smile and a proud shake of her dark curls. Her cheeks were turned rosy by the chilly breeze and it gave her a look of life and wholesome good health.

"Paerce MacGregor knows every slip o' tune that exists, and he taught me most 'all he knows." her hips were rocking along to the tune and she winked at the girl who watched. "Nothing it can't heal or help, he always told me." her bow flashed faster across the strings and several passerby caught their breaths. "Now, my father..." Renate went on, starting to get into it "Is thrice the fiddler I am. Why..." and she grinned even wider. "I'd bet you those shiny shoes he could charm the fair folk right out of their hills with his tunes."

[Edwina Boyd]

The wind reddening the violinist's cheeks chilled Edwina to the bone, and she stuffed her hands into her pockets. She'd thought at first she just had to grow accustomed to the London winter, but she didn't seem to be getting any better at it. It seemed as if she could never get warm anymore.

As the girl spoke of her father charming fairy folk, an icy wind seemed to whirl around the street corner, and she shivered even as she offered a smile. "That would be quite a sight! And worth a whole lot more than a shiny pair of shoes!" She began step lightly back and forth - perhaps some activity would warm her up. "But if he taught you so much, surely you can do the same. Nobody could resist such lively music."

[Renate MacGregor]

Renate liked to consider herself a sensible girl. And most of the time that was pretty much what she was-so pragmatic that if someone never heard her play they would never suspect any artistry lurked beneath her practical exterior. That was most of the time.

But Edwina's words evoked her pride-being her father's daughter, his heir and sucsessor made her something great. She knew it. And so instead of shrugging off the compliment she laughed and her bow skated even faster over the strings.

"Nobody? Hmm...would you take a wager on that?" her wide mouth curved in a gleeful grin.

[Edwina Boyd]

Edwina laughed, caught up in the spirit of the moment. It was a carefree sound, full of mirth. This was what the journey to London had been about for her - the chance to start over. To forget the painful memories of the recent past, and regain some measure of the happiness she'd lost. Even if only for a moment.

"Well, let's see..." She glanced back at the group waiting to enter the theatre, and the others sharing the sidewalk with them. The money from working as Mrs Wilcox's companion was starting to add up. Enough so that she was starting to grow accustomed to the weight of coins in her pocket, and the ability to use them as she wished. She'd be lying if she said she didn't like it either. "A wager, huh? I'm always up for a game." She grinned up at the violinist. "What did you have in mind?"

[Renate MacGregor]

"T'be sure I've no idea!" the fiddler grinned and her tune became even more chaotic and rollicking as she bounced a little on her heels. "I 'aven't the coin to war against yours..." she grinned. "But I'm guessing you got more where that jingle came from?" she grinned. "And a girl could use a round." another smile and Renate jerked her head toward the litle pub down the street. "And all the better if there's some company to go with it."

[Edwina Boyd]

Edwina grinned, and nodded. With her food and lodging being taken care of, she had little to spend her money on. She wasn't really used to frivolities, and she still often felt a need to keep as much aside as possible. But Mrs Wilcox herself had suggested she go out on the town, and she'd brought the money along to do just that. Besides, the fiddleplayer seemed honestly friendly, and she hadn't had much contact with people outside of Mrs Wilcox's visitors - who never really took note of her anyway.

"I'd say that's a brilliant idea! And it's sure to be a bit warmer than the corner, no?" There was a bit of a noise as the theatre opened it's doors, and those here to attend began to shuffle inside. Edwina glanced back briefly, but the idea of taking in a play had temporarily lost it's interest. She turned back to the other girl. "Shall we then?"

[Renate MacGregor]

"Yes, indeed!" And slinging her instrument back over her shoulder to thump against the small of her back, Renate grinned. She slipped her arms amiably through her new friend's and the two set of to the warmth and comfort of the nearest tea shop.

And there they sat, in peace nad comfort for a while, chatting and laughing...and for the moment, their silly little wager was entirely forgotten.

[tatterhood]

...but not by everyone.

As the girls walked arm in arm into the pub, a short little figure seemed to detach itself from the bustle of bodies and carts and watch them as they went. Under a bowler had a wide, red-cheeked face creased with amusement, and a wide-lipped grin stretched across, showing a wolfish set of teeth under a stylish moustache. The eyes, of course, were well shadowed but one could imagine they would sparkle with some sort of glee. If, of course, anyone would have noticed the figure that turned ad made it's way whistling down the street.

No-one did.