‘Damn you, Bonny,’ she muttered as she made her way through the narrow alley towards home. ‘Why couldn’t you have listened to me and stayed in bed today?’
Now they were both snookered. It was inconceivable that Ambrose would take Bonny back. She had no money, and Ellie herself had less than two pounds to her name, and the rent was due on Saturday.
As she walked up Stacey Passage, utterly demoralised, she saw Edward. He was leaning on her door, writing a note.
Until that moment she hadn’t given him a thought; she’d been much too preoccupied with her own problems. But now, seeing him, she was reminded that unless Ambrose found a replacement for her quickly, he’d be out of a job too.
Her heart sank even further. He was bound to be angry that she’d walked out over Bonny. His warning about their friendship had been almost prophetic.
‘If that’s a note to order me back, you’re wasting your time,’ she called out angrily.
Edward wheeled round. ‘Why aren’t you at the theatre?’ he asked.
This surprising question, and his appearance, threw Ellie. He hadn’t shaved, his wet hair was plastered to his head and his eyes seemed strangely dead.
‘Because I walked out, of course,’ she said. ‘Didn’t Ambrose send you?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I was just leaving you a note to say I’m going home to my grandmother’s.’
‘I’m sorry I messed things up for you,’ she said.
Edward frowned, looking down at his note, then back at her. ‘I said much the same in my note.’ He passed it to her. ‘We seem to be at cross purposes.’
Ellie read it, puzzled.
Dear Ellie,
I’m sorry I’ve left you in the lurch. I hope you won’t hate me for it. Maybe one day I can explain, but not now. Think of me sometimes.
Your friend Edward.
Ellie put her hand on his arm, aware that something had happened today aside from her problems. But as she touched his jacket she found it was wet through.
‘You’re soaked,’ she said. ‘Look, we must talk. I’d like to ask you up to my room, but Bonny’s there. Can we go to a pub?’
‘I can’t go to a pub.’ Edward’s voice faltered and Ellie looked at him in surprise. His lips were quivering. She wasn’t sure whether he was cold, or on the point of bursting into tears.
‘Well we can’t talk out here in the rain,’ she said evenly, opening the front door, assuming he meant he was too upset to talk in public. ‘Look, Edward, just wait down here in the passage. I’ll run up and see if Bonny’s okay first. Don’t go away, will you?’
He nodded, stepping into the hall, and leaned wearily against the wall.
Ellie was less than two minutes. As she got back downstairs Edward was sitting hunched on the bottom step in the gloom.
‘She’s okay, reading a book,’ she sighed, sitting down beside him. ‘You can come up if you like, she’s quite decent. Let me dry your jacket?’
‘No.’ Edward shook his head. ‘I couldn’t face Bonny. I didn’t expect to see you either. Tell me what happened?’
Ellie told the story as simply as possible.
‘I had to walk out. I had no choice, he struck me, Edward.’
Edward sighed deeply, leaning his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. ‘It was my fault he was angry today,’ he blurted out. ‘We had a row and I left. I didn’t think he’d take it out on you girls though. I’m so sorry, Ellie.’
‘What was the row about?’ she asked.
He didn’t reply, just covered his face with his hands. ‘Tell me, Edward?’ Ellie put her arm round his shoulder, trying to draw him closer to her.
‘I can’t. I’ve got to go, the train is at eight,’ he said, his voice muffled by his hands. ‘I’ll write in a day or two when I can think straight.’
‘Try and explain now,’ Ellie wheedled, guessing this was something serious. ‘Don’t leave me worried about you too. I’ve got enough on my plate with no job and Bonny ill.’
He put his hands down and sat up straight. ‘She had an abortion, didn’t she?’
Ellie couldn’t see his face clearly in the gloom, just the proud line of his nose and the curl of his lips, but once again she was struck by his keen perception. ‘Yes. Do you understand why I couldn’t tell you?’
‘You thought I’d tell Ambrose.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘I wouldn’t have, not any more than you’d tell people what you know about me.’
That last line was like a shaft of light penetrating the gloom. ‘Was your row with Ambrose something to do with that?’ she whispered.
He nodded.
Ellie knew then that it wasn’t just a row which had caused Edward’s present state, it was something far more dramatic. His manner had striking similarities to the way she’d been after VE night.
‘He did something you didn’t like?’ she whispered, putting her arm around him and drawing him towards her shoulder. ‘Was that it?’
Edward turned his face into her neck, clinging to her like a small boy, and told her just the bare bones of what had happened.
Ellie knew nothing of homosexuality, it wasn’t something she’d encountered before. Any disgust she felt was directed at Ambrose, not Edward. He had preyed on Edward’s vulnerability, in just the same way that American had plied her with drink. The two men had destroyed both Edward’s and Ellie’s trust and innocence for ever.
‘I understand just how you feel,’ she said, stroking his cheek tenderly, wishing she could find the right words to show him she too knew about degradation and shame. ‘I did something once which made me feel the way you do. But it does fade, Edward, I promise you.’
‘I hate myself,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t bear being a freak. I almost threw myself in the river early this morning, but I hadn’t even got the guts to do that.’
He wished he could pour it all out. How at first when Ambrose had caressed him he’d felt absolute joy, wild unashamed passion. All the conflicting emotions which had made him so confused before seemed to disappear; it felt pure and natural. Ambrose was so tender and loving, whispering endearments, promising him so much. But it all changed into something dark and bestial when Ambrose penetrated him. Pleasure turned to pain so intense he screamed out in agony, clawing at the sheets, struggling to get free. Ambrose slapped him hard to shut him up, all trace of tenderness gone, biting his shoulders, pressing down on his neck until Edward thought it would break under the pressure, and grunting like a rutting boar.
It seemed like hours before Ambrose released him, shoving him aside contemptuously without the least concern for his pain.
When Edward had stood by the river early this morning, it wasn’t so much death he’d wanted, as the desire to rid his mind of those terrible images. Ellie’s unjudgemental attitude comforted him a little. Few people would be so liberal.
‘Nothing and no one is worth killing yourself for,’ Ellie said, holding him tightly. ‘You aren’t a freak, Edward, and Ambrose is a cruel and twisted man to prey on you.’
Edward let himself be comforted by her arms. He knew in days to come he would probably regret his confession, but for now she was easing the torment inside him.
‘I must go now,’ he said eventually, knowing that staying would only encourage him to spill out more.
‘I’m so ashamed, Ellie, but I guess I’ll get over it in time.’
‘You will,’ Ellie said soothingly. ‘You’re just overwrought and confused right now; a hot bath and a good night’s sleep will put you right.’
‘Bonny’s lucky having a friend like you to lean on,’ he said, standing up and smoothing down his trousers. ‘Say goodbye to her for me. I hope she feels better soon.’
Ellie stood up and impulsively hugged him tightly.
‘All three of us are in a mess,’ she murmured into his damp neck. ‘All the more reason why we should keep in touch.’
Edward took her arms and drew back from her. As he looked into her dark, compassionate eyes he realised he hadn’t co
mforted her for the loss of her job, or even praised her for defending her friend. Nor had he found it necessary to ask her not to divulge any of this to anyone.
‘You’re my only friend,’ he said simply. ‘I’ll write in a day or two. Maybe then I’ll be able to tell you exactly what you mean to me, Ellie.’
Ellie smiled wanly. ‘You’re my friend too and I won’t forget you. Maybe all three of us can get in another show together.’
Edward kissed her cheek, unable to find the words he wanted to say. ‘We had some good times, didn’t we?’
‘We will again too.’ Ellie smoothed his cheek. ‘Don’t dwell on the bad parts, Edward, just the good bits.’
‘I think I’ll go down to Aunt Lydia’s,’ Bonny said two days later. ‘Can you lend me some money?’
‘I can’t.’ Ellie tried to quell her mounting irritation with Bonny. It seemed that their predicament hadn’t sunk into her head yet. ‘I’ve only got the rent, that’s all. Surely you’ve got some money. You got a taxi to get your clothes yesterday!’
‘That was the last of it,’ Bonny said airily. ‘Can’t you go down and ask Ambrose for our back pay?’
Ellie rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘Do you really expect me to do that after everything that’s happened?’ she snapped. ‘You’re impossible sometimes. Look at this place! I can’t move for all your stuff. I’ve got to go out and find a job. I can’t afford to send you off for a holiday in Sussex. Why can’t you just visit your parents?’
Bonny had two suitcases full of clothes. They filled the narrow strip between bed and wall, lids open, the contents strewn where she’d rummaged through them.
‘Because Mum will pry, as you well know,’ Bonny said sulkily. ‘Besides, Aunt Lydia might know of another job for us and I can see Jack if he gets some leave.’
Ellie could say nothing more. Bonny picked people up and dropped them when it suited her. Now it was Jack’s turn again, and she hoped he’d have the sense to hold her at arm’s length.
‘I know, I’ll pawn that ring I found at Uxbridge.’ Bonny’s face lit up with glee, completely unaware Ellie was cross. ‘I can get enough for my fare and some spare. Now where is it?’ She bent down to rummage again, creating still more chaos.
Ellie leant into the open train window and kissed Bonny’s cheek. ‘Behave yourself,’ she said wearily. ‘Don’t come back until you’re strong again. Maybe I’ll have recovered by then too.’
‘I will write to Mum and Dad,’ Bonny said in an effort to appease her. ‘Don’t you move out without letting me know where.’
The guard blew his whistle and Ellie moved back, raising her hand to blow Bonny a kiss. Sometimes she wished she’d never set eyes on Bonny, but all the same she felt a stab of sorrow at seeing her go.
The pistons moved, steam belched back down the train and the noise prevented any further words. Bonny leaned out of the window, waving until her bright hair was just a small flag in the distance and Ellie turned to go home.
Ellie heard feet coming up the stairs, but she assumed it was merely another tenant. Bonny had been gone for two days now and Ellie had spent the time looking for a job. She hadn’t found anything, not even waitressing or cleaning and this morning she’d been so dispirited she had just stayed in bed.
A knock on her door made her sit up. She thought perhaps it was the landlord. ‘Who is it?’ she called out. She had just enough for the rent, but it would leave her very short.
‘It’s only me, Ellie,’ Frances called back.
Ellie bounded out of bed. She assumed the dancer was feeling bad about not backing her up. Frances was a decent sort; maybe if Ellie hadn’t palled up with Bonny they’d be closer friends.
‘What a nice surprise. I didn’t expect to see anyone from the show again,’ Ellie said as she opened the door, pulling a cardigan over her nightdress. ‘I was lying in bed feeling sorry for myself.’
Frances came in and sat down on the unmade bed. She looked pretty, her black, curly hair loose on her shoulders, wearing a pink frock.
‘We’re all so sorry about what happened,’ she said, looking a little uneasy, as if expecting Ellie to snap at her. ‘Ambrose was awful to you, and we should’ve supported you.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ellie said. It was enough that Frances had come now. ‘I’ll make some tea and you can tell me all the gossip.’
While the kettle boiled on the stove out on the landing, Frances gave her a run-down of events. ‘Ambrose is still being horrible,’ she said. ‘Did you know Edward left too? All the girls think there was something going on between them.’
Ellie said nothing. For Edward’s sake it was better to pretend she hadn’t seen him. ‘How are you managing without me?’ she asked.
‘Sally’s doing the Quaker Girl number, but she isn’t as good as you. Ambrose is auditioning people for some act to replace the sketch, and for another couple of dancers. Where’s Bonny? Is she still ill?’
‘Gone to her aunt’s in Sussex,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ve been looking for another job.’
‘That’s really what I came about,’ Frances said. ‘I heard of something, if you’re interested.’
Over tea, Frances explained that her parents had come up to London last night to see the show.
‘Mum’s younger brother puts on shows all along the east coast,’ she said. ‘Apparently he’s finding it hard to get performers. He asked Mum if I was free, or if I knew of anyone. I thought of you and Bonny immediately.’
Ellie cheered up immediately. ‘Oh Frances.’ She grinned broadly. ‘I’ll do anything! What sort of show?’
‘It’s not in the same league as a West End show,’ Frances warned her. ‘Just a seaside revue, you can’t expect it to be very slick or polished. From what Mum said I think most of the cast are old, or just girls straight out of school.’
‘I don’t care, it’s work,’ Ellie said excitedly. ‘Just as long as I get paid enough to live.’
‘Telephone my uncle tonight.’ Frances opened her handbag and took out a scrap of paper. ‘His name is Archie Biggs. I’ll phone him first to tell him how good you are. I expect he’ll want you to start almost immediately, he’ll get you digs. He’ll probably even pay your fare down there.’
‘Would he take on Bonny too?’ Ellie wasn’t totally sure it was a good idea to include her friend – after all she was nothing but trouble – but she was missing her.
‘He’s bound to.’ Frances smiled warmly. ‘I bet he’d take Edward as well, if you know where he is.’
Ellie had a feeling Frances had her taped. She blushed and averted her eyes.
‘It’s okay.’ Frances put one hand on Ellie’s arm. ‘I shan’t pass any of this on to Ambrose. He’s still breathing fire about all three of you. This is my little way of getting a bit of revenge.’
‘Thank you Frances.’ Ellie smiled. ‘And give the other girls my love. I miss them.’
‘We miss you too,’ Frances said reflectively. ‘Jimbo went mad at Ambrose when he found out you’d left, we all heard them rowing. Keep your head down for a while, remember you signed a contract with him and he might make things difficult for you. But I must go now, we’ve got yet another rehearsal this morning. I almost wish I’d walked out with you.’
Ellie felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Leaving London for the seaside would be as good as a holiday. There would be no painful reminders of Charley, and maybe in a town that wasn’t littered with bomb-sites she could begin to forget all the hardships and tragedy the war had brought her.
Chapter Nineteen
The old man’s phlegmy cough made Ellie wince. She closed the heavy book, put her notepad in her bag and got up from the library table.
She had a great many fond memories of Bethnal Green Library. It had been a warm, cosy sanctuary on many a cold day when she was a child. She could remember coming here as young as four with her mother to choose picture books. In later years she had spent whole Saturday mornings tucked into a corner by a ra
diator, transported into a world where girls had large tuck-boxes sent to their posh boarding-schools for midnight feasts, where they rode ponies and spent summer holidays having amazing adventures.
The library had grown shabbier. Once the wood floor was varnished, so shiny it looked wet, the paintwork and brass on the doors gleamed, and there were flowers on the counter. The floor was dull now, all trace of varnish gone, and a smell of disinfectant had replaced polish. There seemed to be fewer books, and all of the popular fiction was dog-eared from continuous borrowing during the war. The wooden armchairs didn’t appear so large, although the seats were as slippery as she remembered. But Ellie was certain that the grey-haired, sharp-nosed lady on the desk was the same one who had pounced on children who sniffed or dared speak above a whisper.
Ellie had forgotten that the library was a haven on a wet day for the old, the sick and for tramps who on fine days sat out in ‘Barmy Park’. Now they sat dozing over newspapers and magazines, their damp clothes steaming, coughing and spluttering, the odours from their unwashed bodies creating a thick, pungent fug.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ the grey-haired lady whispered as Ellie came past her desk. She wasn’t often faced with requests for Burke’s Peerage and she was curious as to why the black-haired, pretty girl should be so assiduously copying something from it.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Ellie replied, tempted to show what she’d found to the woman and ask her opinion on what some of the abbreviations meant, but afraid she would be asked why she wanted to know. ‘I might come back again another day when it isn’t quite so crowded.’
After Frances had left, Ellie had been so excited at the prospect of joining another show, and the real possibility of leaving London and all its painful memories behind, that she’d been unable to stay indoors and wait until evening to telephone Mr Biggs, even though the grey sky looked as if it promised rain.