‘It’s not so bad,’ she said stoically, giving him a weak grin. ‘At least I get a free lunch. Something will turn up soon.’
John looked hard at her. She looked pale and drawn and she wasn’t as well groomed as usual; in fact her hair needed a wash. He didn’t like to think of himself as a snob, but if any of his colleagues were to find out his fiancée was a waitress they’d all be sniggering behind his back. It was very resourceful of her to find another job to fill in, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her clearing away dirty plates and living in that grim room alone. ‘I’ll find you somewhere decent to stay,’ he said, putting his hand over hers and squeezing it. ‘And you don’t need to do such menial work, I’ll look after you until you get something else. How can you attend auditions when you’re working each lunchtime?’
‘I haven’t felt much like dancing anyway.’ She dropped her eyes from his. ‘I’ve been feeling poorly.’
Up until now, Bonny had been working to a script she’d prepared over several days, but now he was trying to encourage her about auditions, she knew she’d got to make her story a little more powerful.
‘What’s wrong, Bonny?’
John’s sympathetic and loving tone made her eyes prickle. She knew she should squash the idea forming in her mind, but yet it seemed like the perfect answer to everything.
‘I can’t tell you, not here,’ she whispered, looking around her furtively. ‘Someone might hear.’
‘Whisper then! Or is it something you don’t like to tell a man?’ he said, looking very concerned.
She waited, letting tears well up and trickle down her cheeks. ‘I think I’m pregnant, John,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve been feeling so awful, and I’m very late.’
If she had thrown a bowl of soup at him he couldn’t have looked more startled. His face went pale, his mouth fell open and he gave a sharp intake of breath.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whimpered, terribly afraid she’d gone too far.
John felt as if he were falling through space. He had no regrets about asking Bonny to marry him, or buying her an engagement ring. But always a cautious man who thought things through carefully, he was wary of her haste to get married. Now she was saying she was pregnant! He’d used a sheath except for that first night. Could she be lying to him?
‘You’re cross, aren’t you?’ she said, looking at his stricken face. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you now. I wasn’t going to. I was just going to save up enough money and get rid of it.’
‘You’ll do no such thing.’ His voice rose slightly in indignation. ‘Just give me a moment to think it through.’
Bonny lay awake long after John had left her. He had insisted on taking her to Durrants Hotel and booked her into a single room, but he’d gone back to stay with his godmother in Kensington, and he hadn’t even attempted to make love to her. She really did feel sick now, not only because she’d told such a colossal lie on the spur of the moment, but because John wasn’t such a pushover after all.
It had all seemed like plain sailing after John got over the initial shock. He said he would bring her here, then go home to speak to his godmother, who he thought would help find a decent flat for her, and that he would arrange for them to get married as soon as possible. But then, just when she could almost hear the wedding bells and smell the flowers in her bouquet, he said she must go to see a doctor in Harley Street and have her pregnancy confirmed.
He dressed it up so nicely, saying that she might be mistaken, that even if she wasn’t she needed medical advice and attention. But there was something strong and firm in his eyes that silently said until he saw it confirmed in writing there would be no wedding. How on earth could she get round that?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
May 1949
Ellie was in the wings at the Theatre Royal when she got a hissed message from a stage-hand that someone was waiting at the stage door to see her.
Most of the cast of Oklahoma were on stage, rehearsing the number ‘Out of My Dreams and Into Your Arms’. Ellie wasn’t in this scene, and she and Frank Freebody, her partner who played the part of Will, were waiting to be called to run through one of their numbers, ‘With Me It’s All or Nothing’. They were both in practice clothes: she in tights, ballet shoes and a short tunic.
Ellie had been in rehearsal for three weeks now. If it hadn’t been for the gnawing fear that she really was pregnant, this could have been the happiest time in her life. The comic role of the innocent and flirtatious Aldo Annie was perfect for her, she loved the music, the dancing, she got on well with the rest of the cast and she was looking forward eagerly to next week, when she would step into the present Annie’s shoes. Betty Noble was leaving for a lead role in a Hollywood film and that seemed a good omen too.
‘I won’t be a moment’ she whispered to Frank. Ellie liked Frank a great deal: he had an impish charm and he made her laugh so much that sometimes she even managed to forget her worries. ‘There’s someone to see me, call me if they want us.’
She thought it might be Ray wanting to apologise; she couldn’t think of anyone else who would have the audacity to call at a theatre during a rehearsal.
But as she ran back to the steps that led down to the stage door, she was surprised to find that her visitor was Bonny, all dolled up in a blue fitted costume with matching half-veiled hat.
‘Bonny! What on earth?’ she gasped, looking round nervously. She knew the producer wouldn’t appreciate friends just dropping in.
‘Can you take a break to talk?’ Bonny asked.
‘I daren’t.’ Ellie cocked her ear to the music, looking back in the direction of the stage, half expecting Frank to be beckoning frantically to her. This company were very professional, with punctuality insisted upon, and as the rehearsals were mainly in order for Ellie to learn her role, she had to be on hand at all times. ‘I’ll be finished at four.’
‘Please,’ Bonny pleaded. ‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’
Ellie assumed Bonny was in some sort of trouble. Even through her veil she looked pale and strained and she knew better than to interrupt a rehearsal without good reason. ‘I’ll ask if they can spare me for half an hour,’ she said reluctantly, turning to run back up the steps to the stage.
She reappeared a few minutes later, wearing proper shoes. ‘I’ve got fifteen minutes, that’s all,’ she said, reaching for her mackintosh from a peg by the doorman’s desk. ‘We’ll get a cup of tea in the café next door.’
‘I thought I’d just tell you my new address,’ Bonny said once they were sitting in a corner with a cup of tea each. It was too early, at eleven-thirty, for the lunchtime trade, and aside from themselves the only other customers were a couple of workmen eating bacon sandwiches. ‘John’s found me a flat in Harrington Road, South Kensington. You can come there any time you like, it’s really nice.’
Bonny was thrilled that John had managed to persuade his godmother to let her use one of her flats. Lady Penelope Beauchamp owned four small serviced apartments above a rank of shops close to the tube station. Normally they were let only to businessmen while they were working in London, and they were very lucky that one was free.
‘Where are you working?’ Ellie asked, making a note of the address.
‘I’m not, I can’t find anything,’ Bonny said quickly, as if this wasn’t important. ‘John’s helping me out. But I didn’t come about that. I wanted to know if you’d come on yet.’
Ellie was touched that this visit was out of concern for her rather than a plea for help. She relaxed slightly, sitting back in her chair, glad to have someone to confide in at last. ‘No, I haven’t,’ she admitted. ‘I felt queasy this morning too.’
‘You’ve got to find out for certain.’ Bonny leaned closer across the table, frowning with anxiety. ‘You can’t leave it any longer.’
‘I know.’ Ellie made a hopeless gesture with her hands. ‘But I’m scared of going to a doctor.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Bonny said, patting Ellie’s
hand reassuringly.
‘All the cast use a doctor in Soho Square,’ Ellie whispered, afraid someone might overhear. ‘But if I see him, he might tell the producers.’
‘There’s no need to go to him,’ Bonny said. ‘I know a good doctor and you could do me a favour at the same time.’
As Bonny launched into explaining the ‘favour’ she required, Ellie felt a surge of anger erupting inside her.
‘That’s monstrous,’ she gasped, cutting Bonny short. ‘You want me to go to this doctor and make out I’m you! I can’t believe you’d even think of such a wicked scheme to fool John. And I was mug enough to think you were worried about me!’
Bonny swept her half veil back over her hat, her expression one of shock and hurt, but her eyes gave her away. They were full of her old cunning. ‘Ellie I am worried about you. And I didn’t mean to lie to John, I just said I was having a baby on the spur of the moment because I wanted him to bring our wedding forward. Once we’re married I’ll pretend to have a miscarriage, if I’m not already pregnant by then. What harm can it do?’
Bonny had shocked Ellie many times, but never quite like this. On top of her disgust at such an outrageous scheme, the unfairness of their roles sickened her. Bonny had slept with men indiscriminately, while she had only let herself go with one man. Now John was keeping Bonny, making plans for a baby that wasn’t even conceived yet, while Ray didn’t even care enough to contact Ellie and apologise for that night, much less concern himself that a split sheath might have made her pregnant.
‘What harm can it do?’ Ellie’s voice rose in anger. If they hadn’t been in a public place she might have smacked her friend’s face. ‘Marriage is a serious, important thing. You can’t enter into it lying and cheating. It’s wicked.’
‘It’s not,’ Bonny insisted, unabashed. ‘I love him, he loves me. I’ll make him so happy once we’re married. I haven’t got a job, I don’t want to dance any more anyway. I just want to be his wife, that’s all.’
Ellie was staggered by such monumental selfishness. ‘No, Bonny. I won’t do it.’ She got up to leave. ‘You’ve got me to lie to men before and I’ve done it for friendship’s sake, but I won’t do this.’
‘Sit down, Ellie, and listen to me,’ Bonny insisted, catching hold of her hand. ‘You need to know if you really are pregnant, and if you are you’ll need help too. Once I’m married to John, with a nice home, I can help you. You’ll need somewhere to go and have an abortion, if that’s what you decide. If you have the baby you’ll need even more support.’
Ellie swayed on her feet, looking down at Bonny helplessly. She had barely slept for worry since they’d returned to London. Bonny was right on one point; she did need to know for certain.
Slumping back down into the chair, Ellie covered her face with her hands, the enormity of her problem overwhelming her.
‘Don’t, Ellie.’ Bonny tried to remove her hands. ‘I know you must think I’m a louse. But I’m not being entirely selfish. You need help. I want marriage and so does John, even though he’d rather wait a bit. Is it such a bad thing I’m suggesting, when it means all three of us get what we really want? I really hope you aren’t pregnant, even though that will mean I can’t marry John immediately. But if we find you are, then the next step is to decide what to do about it.’
Ellie knew she should refuse to be a party in Bonny’s attempted deception, to get up and walk away, but the need to know if she really was pregnant was now foremost in her mind, weakening her resolve. ‘I don’t like in one bit,’ she said weakly. ‘I hate it, but okay, I’ll do it for me, just so I can stop brooding about it. If there is a God up there, he’ll make all the tests negative.’
Bonny sighed with relief. She had really expected Ellie to refuse: she was usually such a stickler for honesty. ‘The appointment is tomorrow at five,’ she said quickly, opening her bag and getting out a card. She hoped Ellie wouldn’t change her mind once she’d had time to reflect on it further. ‘I’ll come with you, we’ll just switch names. John doesn’t know this doctor personally and he’ll be up north on business, so we don’t have to worry about being caught out. You have to bring a sample of pee with you. If you wait outside the theatre at quarter to five, I’ll pick you up in a taxi.’
‘I loathe you sometimes,’ Ellie said as she got up, her face white and strained. She was furious that Bonny had worked this all out, banking on her being desperate enough to collaborate, and she was even more disgusted with herself for being weak enough to agree. ‘You’d better make John happy, Bonny, so I don’t live to regret my part in this.’
‘You can get dressed again now, Miss Phillips.’ Dr Rodriguez covered Ellie up with a sheet, pulled off his rubber gloves and smiled down at her. ‘We’ll have a little chat when you’re ready.’
It was quarter to six on May 18th, and it was a warm, sunny day, exactly eight weeks since she had gone to stay with Ray in London. Despite Ellie’s acute embarrassment, Dr Rodriguez was a very soothing man. She supposed he must be Spanish, even though he had no accent. He was tall and swarthy, with eyes like melting chocolate and all the charm one would expect from a Harley Street gynaecologist.
The consulting rooms brought home the huge divide between rich and poor. John paying for this consultation meant she was seen at the appointed hour, in luxurious surroundings, with mahogany desks, thick carpets and no stigma attached to her unmarried status. Had she gone to a local doctor, she might have waited for hours in a waiting-room with chronically sick people, treated like a prostitute and dispatched as quickly as possible.
Ellie waited until he had gone back behind the screen, then took off the white gown and dressed again. She knew what the result was, even though he hadn’t confirmed it yet, and she wanted to get out of here before she began to cry.
‘You are indeed expecting a baby.’ The doctor smiled warmly at Ellie as she silently took the seat next to Bonny on the other side of his desk. ‘Just about eight weeks, and you can expect your baby at Christmas.’ He laughed softly at the last part of his pronouncement. ‘The best present anyone could have.’
Ellie gulped and tried to smile but it was impossible to feel any joy and a tear slid out.
Dr Rodriguez was surprised by her stricken face. He knew, of course, she wasn’t married yet, but that engagement ring on her finger and the caring tone of the man Norton who’d made the appointment suggested she would be long before her baby arrived. ‘It’s quite normal for an expectant mother to feel fraught at this stage,’ he said gently. ‘Especially if the baby wasn’t planned. But mother nature will take you in hand. In no time at all you’ll be looking forward to the birth joyfully. You are strong and healthy, Miss Phillips – you’ll make an ideal mother.’
Ellie didn’t even listen to the rest of what he said. All she could think of was that through one little accident, her career had gone down the pan and she had no one to lean on.
Outside in Harley Street both girls paused for a moment, Ellie holding on to the black painted railings for support.
‘Come back to my flat?’ Bonny suggested. She was concerned by her friend’s pallor and her stony silence. The street was busy with rush hour traffic and she thought Ellie might faint.
‘I don’t want to go anywhere with you,’ Ellie snapped at her, dark eyes cold with disgust. She pulled Bonny’s engagement ring off her finger and thrust it back at her. ‘Get a taxi, swan off back to the flat John’s found for you. Celebrate your “pregnancy” with champagne and plan your damned wedding. Just don’t invite me!’
‘Don’t be like this.’ Bonny tried to hold her, but Ellie shrugged her off angrily. ‘I meant what I said. I will help you. I can get enough money for an abortion. I’ll look after you.’
‘Get out of my life, Bonny.’ Ellie turned her back on her friend and walked away. Tears streamed down her face. She didn’t think she’d ever felt such utter misery, not even when her mother had died.
John sawed through the partly burnt pork chop, only half listening to Bonny
’s excited prattle about wedding invitations. He had arrived back in London just two hours ago and he was still a little dazed by Dr Rodriguez’s note dated two days earlier, confirming that Bonny was indeed pregnant.
The flat in Harrington Road was clean and comfortable enough, but impersonal, with basic utility furniture. Unlike many of the big houses in the area, which had been converted to flats over the last thirty or forty years, this and the other three in the block had been purpose-built during the twenties. A living-room, one bedroom, a kitchen and bathroom, all decorated in a uniform beige with dark green curtains. Bonny was delighted by such luxuries as a refrigerator, constant hot water and a woman who came in to clean three times a week. Compared to the boarding-houses she was used to, it was heaven. John privately thought it was drab, the constant noise of traffic irritating, and he was a little hurt his godmother hadn’t offered to let Bonny stay at her big house in Ennismore Gardens. But then Penelope disapproved of him becoming engaged to a young dancer. She would be even more alarmed and suspicious when he informed her later tonight that the wedding would be taking place as soon as possible.
‘A big wedding isn’t appropriate,’ John said firmly. He was struggling with his conscience; he’d told Penelope a few white lies and soon they would turn to bigger ones. He wanted to do the right thing by Bonny, yet he didn’t like this haste or the feeling that he was losing control. He wanted to take her to bed right now, to rediscover all the magic of that weekend they had shared in London, yet his underlying prudishness suggested this was wrong under the circumstances. ‘Neither of us have many close relatives. What we have to think about is where the wedding will be. The banns have to be put up where one of us lives. That means if you want it to be in Dagenham or Amberley you’ll have to live there for the entire three weeks before.’