Sing for Their Supper - 17

Lady Roma snorted. "What if I can't act?"

"He'll teach you, I bet," Ricky said. "He's a great actor."

Tuck chuckled. "What makes you think that?"

"They put your picture on the poster I saw."

Tuck wondered if Ricky was that naïve. Probably, when it comes to things like this. Otherwise… Well, living the way he does, I doubt it.

Lady Roma smiled at Tuck and he had the feeling she knew what he was thinking. "I remember Nancy. She dies, doesn't she?"

"She does. She's murdered by Bill Sikes."

Pensively, Lady Roma said, "I wonder if I could pull off a death scene. God only knows I've imagined my own more than once." She shivered. "But that's got nothing to do with what we're talking about. Can I have some time to think about it?"

"Of course." Tuck looked at Ricky. "You can, too."

"Don't need to. I'm in, if you really want me."

"Great. One down and dozens to go."

"If you want another girl," Lady Roma said, "there's one who comes by here every once in a blue moon. She calls herself Dena. We've sung together when she does. Her voice is good, if untrained. If I see her again, I can talk with her about this—about you. Where can she find you?"

Tuck took a scrap of paper from his pocket—the lunch receipt, he realized—and wrote down his number. "I always answer. Well, usually, except when I'm on stage or in rehearsals. I'd say I'll call her back, but she probably doesn't have a phone."

"Some of us do," Lady Roma told him when he handed her the paper. "Not always working, if we haven't made enough to buy some minutes." She tucked the paper into the pocket of her skirt. "I'll call you, too, when I make up my mind. That way you don't have to keep coming back making puppy eyes at me in hopes it'll help."

"I don't do puppy eyes," Tuck replied, amused.

"Whatever." She grinned then flicked her fingers. "Go bother someone else now. I have work to do if I'm going to eat tonight."

Tuck went, with Ricky trailing along behind him. "Do you want me to look around for people?" he asked Tuck.

"Sure. You might have better luck than I will, because you know the spots where they hang out. I'll give you my number, in case you get lucky." Tuck took out his pen, then searched his pocket for another piece of paper.

"Just tell me." Ricky had a phone in his hand. "It's cheap, but I need it so they can call me when they have more papers for me to sell," he explained. He put in Tuck's number, then pocketed the phone. When Tuck asked, he gave him the number.

With that done, they parted company.