Ellie

  He shuddered at the thought of the callous parents who’d shoved her away to live with a total stranger. Miss Wynter was very charming, her home so very lovely, yet what damage it must have done to a small girl to know she was only there on sufferance, forced to dance or be banished to another home. Bonny idolised the woman, yet Miss Wynter had managed to find something cutting to say to her while he was out of earshot. He’d watched Bonny’s face as she hugged the woman before leaving. She was almost in tears, her lips quivering, clearly hoping Miss Wynter would tell her she was proud of her, or better still that she was loved.

  How he’d resisted the temptation to take her to his hotel he didn’t know. He wanted her so badly it was a physical pain. But he had to be sure of her first. There were too many women out there looking for a free meal ticket and he had no intention of being taken for a ride by Bonny, however much he loved her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  March 1949

  ‘Four whole days off! Whoopee!’ Ellie shrieked, kicking off her shoes and leaping on to the old iron bed. The springs clanged in protest and she laughed and bounced again as if she were on a trampoline, knowing it would bring a howl of rage from Mrs Rolf, their landlady.

  Sure enough the voice came from the foot of the stairs. ‘Treat that bed with respect,’ she yelled. ‘It’s done me good service and I won’t have you flibbertigibbets destroying it.’

  Ellie bounced once more in defiance. She and Bonny were giddy with excitement. They were leaving Birmingham. By midday they’d be in London. Mrs Rolf, her bad food and her lumpy, damp beds would be just an unpleasant memory. True, the next date of the tour was in Coventry, which might very well be as bad as this, but in the meantime she would be staying with Ray and Bonny would be meeting John.

  It was March, just one more month before their disastrous tour was over for good. Everything that could go wrong on a tour had: hampers of costumes lost in transit from one town to another; artists disappearing and leaving the rest of the company in the lurch; an influenza epidemic which picked them off one by one between Christmas and the end of January. The whole company were sick of doing the same old routine week after week, the jokes no longer made them laugh, they loathed all the songs and wanted to boo at the magician. It was hardly worth taking their clothes out of the suitcase when at the end of the week they had to pack it all back in.

  They were all used to bad digs, but this time they’d discovered new lows. One notable place in Wakefield had an unemptied chamber-pot under the bed and only a candle for light. They put up with snow, ice, rain and hail, dressing-rooms with broken windows, Alfredo the tenor leering constantly at them. Cynthia, an alcoholic assistant to ‘the Mighty Marcel’ who did a knife-throwing act, chased Bonny with one of his daggers because she thought she had stolen her best wig. In Glasgow Ellie had found a rat in the dressing-room, in Preston a drunk in the audience had pelted the stage with monkey nuts and one of the dancers had slipped and broken her leg. There had been moments of hilarity, but so many more of absolute misery.

  Ellie got a sty in one eye which didn’t get better for weeks; Bonny caught scabies from a dirty towel. They had fought and cried, been hungry and exhausted, but now it was all put aside, in the joy of going to London.

  ‘I’ll give her flibbertigibbets. Look what I’ve got.’ Bonny opened a piece of newspaper and a fishy smell wafted out.

  ‘It’s a kipper!’ Ellie giggled as her friend drew out the thin, brown fish by its tail. ‘What on earth have you got that for?’

  ‘Just watch.’ Bonny grinned mischievously. She opened their door and stole out into the gloomy landing. She held one finger up to her lips for Ellie to keep quiet, then still holding the kipper by its tail, she crept over to a heavy chest of drawers wedged in an alcove and slid it down into a tiny gap at the back between the chest and the wall.

  Ellie had to cover her mouth to prevent herself laughing and backed into their room. Mrs Rolf was hateful. She charged them a shilling for each bath, and when the girls had decided to share one, she banned them from bathing altogether. Meals were almost inedible; brawn, tripe and oxtail were her favourite stand-bys. She poked around in their room, she found fault continually, and she insisted they were lucky to be in her cold, cheerless house.

  ‘It won’t start smelling really bad until we’re long gone,’ Bonny giggled, washing her hands at the sink. ‘Rolfy will be frantic. She’ll never think of looking behind there.’

  Ellie picked up her coat and stood in front of the cracked mirror to put her hat on. She had bought it just yesterday from a second-hand shop and she thought she looked like a Cossack in it. It was black Persian lamb, trimmed round with ocelot, and it was wickedly dramatic with the coat she’d bought in a jumble sale.

  ‘You’re a fiend, Bonny,’ she giggled as she tilted the hat rakishly to one side. The camel coat was huge, but pre-war good quality. She had stitched in shoulder pads, nipped in the waist with a leather belt and now it looked up to the minute. ‘But Rolfy deserves it. Just don’t leave the newspaper in here, or she’ll know we were responsible.’

  Bonny put her fur coat on. It was musquash, and like Ellie’s coat and hat it too was second-hand. But Bonny managed to look like a film star in it, and they’d been very glad of it on their bed on cold nights.

  ‘That’s it then.’ Bonny picked up her case and looked around the grim room one last time. ‘Can’t say I’ll ever get nostalgic for Birmingham, not after this house and Mrs Rolf, but I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall in a week’s time.’

  ‘We’ll probably be in a worse place by then,’ Ellie groaned. She peered under the bed to make sure they’d left nothing behind, then picking up her case, followed Bonny to the stairs.

  ‘You look marvellous.’ Ray caught Ellie in his arms when he opened the door to her at his flat in Hampstead. ‘God I’ve missed you!’ he said jubilantly as he swung her round.

  ‘You have?’ she said in astonishment, pleasantly surprised by such a loving greeting.

  He looked different: a few gained pounds had filled out his face and his curly hair was longer than she remembered. But it was more than just that – he looked almost pretty.

  ‘You’ve had your tooth fixed!’ she exclaimed, suddenly aware that the broken tooth was no longer there. ‘It changes your whole face!’

  ‘Thank heaven for the new Health Service,’ he laughed, opening his mouth and wiggling a plate with two false teeth fitted. ‘I went in with raging toothache, expecting to come out with gaping holes, but instead the dentist fitted this.’

  ‘Did you really miss me?’ she asked, all at once feeling odd to be back here.

  ‘Well, look how I’ve cleared up,’ he grinned, waving his arm at the flat. ‘I don’t do that for many people.’

  Ellie smiled. He had stacked up books and papers into neat piles, there wasn’t any dirty china anywhere in sight, or clothes strewn on the chairs, but it was still dusty and there were balls of fluff on the lino. ‘You aren’t much of a cleaner,’ she commented.

  ‘My Sergeant Major put me off cleaning for life,’ he laughed. ‘Other men can boast of brave deeds in the war, all I did was scrub floors and hand out stores.’

  If Ellie hadn’t seen photographs of Ray in uniform she wouldn’t really believe he’d been in the army. He wasn’t a ‘man’s man’ at all and he loathed taking orders. ‘How long have we got before you’ve got to go to work?’ she asked.

  Ray looked at his watch. ‘Four hours and twenty-five minutes,’ he said, grinning wickedly. ‘How on earth are we going to fill that?’

  ‘With four hours and five minutes of pure sensat on,’ she giggled. ‘That leaves you twenty minutes to race up the road.’

  ‘Well, we’d better make a start then,’ he said, removing her coat and hat. ‘I even put clean sheets on the bed.’

  Ellie had missed Ray more than she expected to. She’d had a few dates with other men but she hadn’t found anyone who was such good company. Between shows, rehearsals and travel
ling to new venues there was never time to get to know anyone other than the rest of the company, and late at night, in cold, damp beds she’d often thought longingly of his love-making. As soon as Ray began to kiss her, all the desire and frustration bottled up for five months burst forth.

  Every stroke of his hands felt like the first time, each kiss deeper and longer than the one before. He smelt delicious, of soap and toothpaste, and she’d all but forgotten how silky his skin was and how good he was at arousing her.

  There were no games now, just the need to possess, to hold and be held. The first time was frantic and Ellie had barely helped him on with a sheath and guided him inside her before he came.

  ‘I will do better,’ he sighed, snuggling into her arms. ‘Just give me a breather.’

  But the second time it was like all the good moments they’d shared in the past, rolled into one. Even more sensual and inventive than she remembered, bringing her to an explosive climax within moments, only to start all over again.

  ‘Oh Ellie, I’ve missed you,’ he whispered, showing all the tenderness which had been lacking in the past. ‘I could smell you on the sheets after you left, and it made me feel so lost and empty. I’ve been so excited about you coming here, I’ve hardly eaten or slept for the last couple of days.’

  It had never been quite as good as this in the past; he seemed to be hanging on, trying to make it last for ever. Long, hard strokes inside her, then moving away just to caress her breasts or stroke her back, then coming back inside her for more.

  Ellie came before he did, clinging to him, clawing at his back in abandonment which pushed him over the edge to join her.

  ‘That was the very best,’ he whispered as he lay still in her arms. ‘I’ve been such a fool, Ellie, I didn’t realise just how much you meant to me until you’d gone away.’

  Ray had written a few times during their separation, jokey letters telling her all the news but never with even a glimpse into his heart. Now in the afterglow of love-making his tender words meant so much, making sense of the past and promising more for the future.

  ‘I’d better take this thing off,’ he said, moving slightly to withdraw from her. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not very romantic.’

  Ellie could remember Ray being far less romantic in the past, and his attempt to upgrade his act was touching.

  ‘Oh shit.’ His cry startled her out of sleepiness.

  ‘What is it?’ she said, sitting up.

  ‘It’s split,’ he said hoarsely, kneeling back on his feet and peering intently at the latex dangling on his now soft penis. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Ellie could only laugh; he looked so funny and woebegone. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she said, drawing him back into her arms. ‘It will be all right, just cuddle me.’

  They talked then. Ellie told him just how bad the tour had been. ‘It was a mistake,’ she said grimly. ‘There were times when I actually felt like jacking it all in and getting an ordinary job.’

  ‘It wasn’t the same here without you,’ Ray said tenderly. ‘All the backstage crew missed you, Alf more than anyone. I never knew what to do with myself when I wasn’t working. Are you coming back to London once the tour’s over?’

  Ellie was dying to tell him she was going for an audition on Monday morning to replace the present actress paying ‘Aldo Annie’ in Oklahoma, but she felt it might be a jinx if she told anyone. She hadn’t even told Bonny.

  Oklahoma had been running for two years at the Theatre Royal, since arriving fresh from Broadway, and the comic role of the flirtatious Annie was one that most of the actresses in England would die for. She thought she’d pretend to go shopping on Monday, then if she was lucky enough to be accepted she could rush back to celebrate with Ray before catching the evening train on to Coventry. If she was turned down, no one would be any the wiser.

  ‘I want to work in London,’ she said, cuddling into him. ‘I’ll have to see if Bloomfield’s have got anything up their sleeve.’

  They dropped off to sleep for a while and when they woke it was almost time for Ray to leave.

  ‘You stay here,’ he said, leaping out of bed. ‘You can see the play tomorrow. Have a bath and get dolled up and we’ll go out for some supper when I’m finished.’

  She lay there watching him dress. To her surprise he put on a dinner-jacket and bow-tie.

  ‘Where d’you think you’re off to?’ she giggled. ‘The Ritz?’

  ‘Part of my new image,’ he grinned as he tied the tie. ‘The theatre’s been smartened up, the owners even put a new carpet in the foyer and mended the broken seats. I thought I’d better do myself up too.’

  ‘I’ll come up about ten,’ she said sleepily as he bent to kiss her goodbye. ‘It will be nice to see Alf and everyone. Is Edward still around?’

  Edward hadn’t written to her for some weeks. He’d had a lead role at the Little Theatre at that time. She thought maybe he’d written again but that the letters hadn’t reached her.

  ‘He’s playing the piano in a pub up the road,’ Ray said vaguely. ‘I’m not his favourite person now because I couldn’t offer him another part for a while.’

  Ellie left Ray’s flat before nine. She had dozed for a bit, and then got up and had a bath and once she was dressed there seemed no sense in staying there alone.

  It was a frosty, cold night, the sky studded with stars and a full moon. As she walked briskly up Fitzjohn’s Avenue she noticed that a bombed-out house which had been just a shell when she was last here had been pulled down and that a small block of flats was being built in its place. As she got closer to Hampstead village, the dowdy dress shop by Haverstock Hill was transformed by fresh paint, its display of ‘New Look’ spring suits brightly lit.

  Ellie stopped to look, smiling with delight. Clothing coupons had finally been abolished last week and clearly the owners of this shop were expecting good business. Ellie had no money for new clothes herself, but it was exciting to see the years of austerity coming to a close. If she did get the part in Oklahoma she was never going to wear anything second-hand again.

  It was good to see all the old familiar haunts again – the teashop she used to go to with Edward, the pub she often went at lunchtimes with Ray – but though she popped her head round the door of all the pubs she passed, Edward wasn’t playing in any of them.

  ‘My word, you look the bleedin’ ticket.’ Alf’s face broke into a broad grin as she came through the stage door. ‘Where’d yer get the titter? Bin over to Russia?’

  ‘This is the last word in elegance,’ she joked, mincing around the small space between Alf’s bench and chair and the stairs that led to the dressing-rooms. ‘I got the bleedin’ titter in a Birmingham second-hand shop, the coat came from a jumble sale.’ She swaggered around, dramatically swinging the skirt of her coat to make him laugh.

  ‘You’ll soon be wearing mink,’ he insisted loyally. He’d become very fond of Ellie in her time in Hampstead, as most of the backstage crew had. ‘You’d better leave me the ’at, then I can flog it once yer famous.’

  She stayed talking to Alf for a few minutes about the current play, Blithe Spirit. She could hear laughter from the front of the house and the sound, coupled with all the familiar smells of mustiness, greasepaint, disinfectant and cigars made her feel nostalgic, so when Alf was called away by one of the stage-hands, she wandered up to the dressing-rooms.

  As she made her way along the corridor, she heard a shrill woman’s voice raised in anger.

  ‘You really expect me to stay out of the way until then?’

  The voice was coming from the dressing-room which was usually allocated to the leading lady. She didn’t recognise it as belonging to anyone she’d ever met.

  ‘Don’t be like this, Ruby!’

  Hearing Ray’s voice took Ellie by surprise. During performances he was always either at the front of the house, or in the wings. She paused, curiosity getting the better of her.

  ‘I did warn you,’ he went on. ‘You said you understood. I
t certainly doesn’t warrant you refusing to go on tonight. What on earth were you thinking of?’

  ‘You didn’t say she was your old girlfriend.’ The woman’s voice rose another octave, and Ellie was so startled she stepped back in alarm. ‘Did you really think I could go on stage tonight knowing you’d been screwing some tart all afternoon? Or spend the next few days twiddling my thumbs while you show this “old pal” a good time?’

  Ellie was stunned, not only by the ferocity in the woman’s voice but by the sudden realisation that she was the cause of the woman’s anger. She stood stock-still, a chill running down her spine.

  She hadn’t really expected Ray to remain faithful to her in her absence; he was after all a man who was attractive to women and he’d made no promises. But his loving manner this afternoon had given her the idea that he’d thought again about her position in his life. She waited, expecting to hear him put this woman in her place, but as he spoke she reeled back in shock.

  ‘She means nothing. She never did,’ he said forcefully.

  Ellie knew she ought to run away now – just hearing she meant nothing to Ray was enough – but she couldn’t run, she had to hear the rest.

  ‘I love you Ruby, you know that,’ he went on. ‘Ellie’s boring, too naïve and docile for my taste. I told you why I need to keep in with her. She’s going to the top soon and I’d be a fool to fall out with her when she might help my career.’

  Tears sprang to Ellie’s eyes and she turned and ran back downstairs. Alf looked up in surprise, but she didn’t stop, just pulled open the stage door and ran out into the night.

  She kept running until she was up on the heath. It was very cold – frost was making the grass sparkle, and the moon was reflected in the black water of Whitestone pond – but Ellie was unaware of anything other than her own misery. She only stopped running when she was completely out of breath and a stitch in her side prevented her going on.

  The heath was deserted. She sat down on a bench and sobbed bitterly.