Born to Dance (6 page)

Bonny Burton sat in the train heading for Waterloo Station – and her future. She peered out of the window but the passing scenery didn’t register – her mind was in a whirl. So much had happened so quickly during the previous month. There had been meetings between Rob Andrews and Peter Collins, discussing the new musical extravaganza opening at the Adelphi Theatre in which he wanted Bonny and Rob to feature their Fred Astaire–Ginger Rogers routines. Bonny had been a part of these meetings once Rob had clarified the points he thought important to both of them: the terms of their contract, their fees and how much input he would have as musical director.

Once he had settled all this, he and Bonny had spoken to her parents. Millie had talked to her husband Frank earlier and persuaded him that he couldn’t stand in the way of his daughter’s future. ‘Dancing is all she’s ever wanted to do, and after seeing her performance with Rob Andrews, you have to admit our Bonny has great talent. You stand in her way, love, you’ll lose your daughter. Is that what you want?’

‘Of course not!’ He frowned. ‘She’s always been my little girl, that’s all, and I’m having a hard time accepting that she’s now a young woman.’

Millie put an arm around him. ‘I know, I’ll miss her too, but after all, she’s only in London, not the other side of the world. Just think how proud we’ll be on opening night to see our girl on a West End stage.’

Rob Andrews had been able to persuade them that he would look after Bonny and her interests and had told them that he had chosen good theatrical digs for her with a nice family who were used to dealing with folk in the theatre. ‘Mr and Mrs Gregg are a middle-aged couple who provide home cooked meals and a clean home. Bonny will be well cared for, I can assure you. They have both been in the theatre in their younger days so understand the needs of a performer. And I’ll make sure she’s safe and sound.’

Thus reassured, Millie and Frank had given Bonny their blessing, and now she was on her way to London to start rehearsals.

Bonny looked across the train carriage at Rob who was immersed in his work, sorting out dance routines in his head and writing the moves and music down on a pad balanced on his knee. He looked up and smiled at Bonny. ‘You all right?’

‘I’m sitting here unable to believe what’s happening,’ she admitted.

He gazed at her with affection. He would enjoy this new challenge, especially as Bonny was part of it. They were like-minded souls, whose world was the theatre. How fortunate he was to have found her, he mused.

‘We work well together, Bonny, and you have no idea how happy that makes me. We are going to have so much fun, but once we start rehearsals in the morning, you’ll believe it’s all happening, you’ll be so tired!’ And he returned to his work. He was directing all the numbers that they were dancing and had been given carte blanche by Peter Collins.

‘I love your style, Rob,’ Collins had said. ‘I want you to bring that to your part of the show. I’ve hired excellent dancers for the chorus, who will be thrilled to work with you. I have only one favour to ask.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘One of our backers has a girlfriend and he insists that she is in the chorus. She’s not a bad dancer, but nothing special. However, I desperately need his money, so I had to agree, I’m sorry.’

Rob was not pleased. ‘What if she can’t cut the mustard?’

‘Then, old man, you’ll have to work with her and make sure she does.’

There was a steeliness in Collins’ voice and Rob knew he had no option but to agree.

‘Right, let’s hope she isn’t useless or I’ll work her until her feet bleed, then perhaps she won’t be quite so keen on the idea!’ And the subject was closed.

On their arrival in London, Rob took Bonny by taxi to her digs. She liked the Greggs at once and was delighted with her bedroom, which was small but filled with light from the window. It was reasonably close to the theatre, and once she was settled, Rob walked her to the Adelphi to look at the theatre and talk to Peter Collins.

He put his arm around her shoulder as they walked, telling
her about the city and the shows that were currently being performed in the West End, adding to her excitement.

The show was already in rehearsal when they arrived, and the three of them sat in the stalls and watched the early attempts of the opening numbers. The chorus were being put through their steps by Collins’ musical director, who halted the rehearsal to come over and meet Rob.

Dan Mansfield was an up-and-coming young man in the theatre and he greeted Rob with enthusiasm. ‘Mr Andrews, it’s a great pleasure to meet you. I’m one of your most ardent admirers and I look forward to working with you.’ The two shook hands.

‘When did you start rehearsing?’ Rob asked.

‘Only yesterday, so everything and everyone is pretty raw at the moment, but we’ll get there.’

‘I’m sure you will. Please, don’t let me disturb you.’

They watched as he instructed the chorus line in their opening number and suddenly Rob saw a familiar face and guessed which dancer was the girlfriend of one of the backers.

Bonny recognized her at the same time. ‘That’s Lily Stevens!’ she said with surprise.

Rob closed his eyes in despair. He had fired Lily at the end of the show in Southampton for tripping up Bonny and causing her to sprain her ankle. The girl had heartily denied it, of course, and there had been an angry scene as Lily had left Rob’s office – and the show. Now, here she was, and Rob was stuck with her – like it or not. The only saving grace was that Lily was good enough for the chorus with a bit of hard work, but in his bones Rob knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with that – and that would be his problem. One that he would keep from Bonny. He didn’t want anything to interfere with her performance. Besides, it was his concern, not hers.

The following morning Rob began his rehearsals. The chorus stood before him, waiting eagerly for his instructions, knowing his reputation. He quickly laid out the scene to which they were to perform and showed them the opening steps. Collins was right, they were all very competent dancers, the weakest by far was Lily Stevens. He moved her to the back row, which made her cheeks redden and her eyes flash angrily.

And at the end of rehearsals she stormed up to him. ‘In case
you are unaware of the situation, my fiancé is a backer of this production, and when I tell him I’m in the back row, he will not be pleased!’

Rob looked coldly at her. ‘Don’t you try blackmail with me, Lily. You are only here because of your fiancé, as I’m sure you know. I will not ruin my production on a whim. I’m sure your fiancé would not be pleased to see a number spoilt by your incompetence. Think about it, Lily. If I put you in a prominent position then your man will see for himself you are not up to standard and that would be embarrassing for him.’ He paused. ‘Then, I don’t think he’ll pursue your ambition with quite so much enthusiasm. After all, he’s a canny businessman, he’s put his money into this company because he wants a return. I can assure you he won’t put you before that, however good you are in bed!’ He turned and walked away.

Lily stood fuming, her cheeks flushed. She rushed off the stage, muttering to herself.

Rob was not at all sure how enamoured the backer was with the girl and hoped the man was a shrewd businessman first before being a man in lust or love. If it was the latter, he was in deep trouble.

The rehearsals were going well and Peter Collins was busy selling his forthcoming show to the people who mattered in the theatre. To this end, he’d arranged a cocktail party at the Savoy Hotel on the coming Sunday evening, which would be good publicity as he’d also organised for the press to attend.

‘Go and buy Bonny an evening dress,’ he told Rob. ‘I want her to look stunning when I introduce the pair of you. You will be in a dinner jacket, of course.’

‘Of course,’ smiled Rob. ‘Who have you invited?’

‘Jack Buchanan and Noel Coward, and CB Cochran said he’d try and look in. Apart from several theatre critics – and the backers, of course. We must give them the opportunity to meet the stars; it’s a bonus that comes when they give me their money.’

Rob frowned. No doubt Lily would be among the guests, with her sugar daddy, and that could be very awkward.

Bonny and Rob had a great time shopping for her dress. Away from the rigidity of his role as dance director, she discovered his charm and sense of humour. He also, she discovered, had an innate sense of style.

As she tried on yet another model, chosen by him, curiosity overcame her. ‘How do you know so much about a woman’s apparel?’

He chuckled wickedly. ‘Most of my adult life has been around women. I picked up a few tips.’

‘Mm, I bet you did!’

‘What are you implying, Bonny?’ He raised his eyebrows as he waited for her reply.

‘Nothing, but I am seeing another side to you and it’s a little disconcerting, if I’m honest.’

He started to laugh. ‘I am definitely an unknown quantity, but that’s how I like it!’

On Sunday evening, Bonny stood before a full-length mirror and gazed at her reflection. She was wearing a pale russet evening gown that had been their final choice. It showed the deep auburn tones of her hair to perfection. It was a simple style but the cut and swathe of the bodice fitted perfectly. Beneath it she wore black evening court shoes with a diamanté buckle, and around her shoulders, a pale mink jacket that had been hired for the evening. Round her neck was a diamanté necklace and matching earrings hung from her ears. Her long hair was dressed back from her face and cascaded with ringlets. She looked stunning.

Amy Gregg, her landlady, fussed about the hem of her dress, then stood back. ‘There you are, girl. Fit for a king, you are!’

Bonny did a twirl. ‘I’ve never looked like this in my entire life!’ she exclaimed.

‘Well, dear, if you dance on stage as good as you look tonight, you’ll be a sensation.’

‘I’m a bit nervous about meeting all these important people,’ Bonny confessed.

‘We’ll soon put a stop to that! You’re a dancer, so you stand tall, move gracefully and be yourself. Don’t try and make clever remarks, just be normal.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Take it from me, in the theatre there are too many people who make-believe twenty-four hours of the day. They will appreciate someone who doesn’t.’

The front doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be Mr Andrews for you,’ Amy said as she walked to the door. She paused. ‘If I was younger I wouldn’t mind going out with that young man. He’s gorgeous!’

And as Rob entered the front room, Bonny could see what
Amy meant. He had the stature and elegance of a dancer, and in a dinner jacket he did indeed look handsome.

He eyed Bonny with admiration. ‘You look lovely.’ He leaned forward and kissed her. ‘Are you ready? The taxi’s waiting.’

There was a small orchestra softly playing songs from the current shows on the stage of the room Peter had booked at the Savoy, and as Rob and Bonny entered he walked over to them. ‘My dear Bonny, you look amazing, just as a star should. Here, have a drink.’ He took three glasses of champagne from the tray being offered by a waiter. ‘Now, come with me and meet Jack.’

‘Jack?’ queried Bonny.

‘Yes, Jack Buchanan. He’s starring in a show with Elsie Randolph, who couldn’t come this evening.’

Bonny felt her heart race. Jack Buchanan was a major star in the theatre and in films as well. Her mother adored him and now she was about to meet him.

Peter put his hand on the arm of a tall man, immaculately dressed, with dark hair. ‘Jack, I want you to meet my up-and-coming stars.’

‘I’m delighted,’ the man said as he took Bonny’s hand.

‘My mother absolutely adores you,’ she said before she could think.

Mr Buchanan beamed with delight. ‘Is she here this evening?’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘Then you must make sure I have her address before I leave and I’ll send her a signed photo.’

‘Thank you so much, that would make my mother’s day.’

Peter introduced Rob to the star, who said, ‘I know you by reputation, Mr Andrews. I will certainly look forward to seeing the show when it opens.’

The evening seemed to speed by. Bonny’s head was in a whirl as she was introduced to the upper echelon of the theatre. She had taken Rob’s advice and substituted orange juice for champagne after a couple of glasses.

She was more than a little surprised to see Lily Stevens at the party with an older man who was in conversation with Peter Collins at one time. Lily made a point of ignoring Bonny and Rob, which was a great relief to them both.

Rob was called away and excused himself, and Bonny stood alone for a moment.

‘Can I get you a drink, young lady?’

She turned and looked up into the piercing blue eyes of a tall man with dark hair who smiled softly at her. He raised his eyebrows in question.

‘That’s very kind of you, but no thank you. I don’t want any more alcohol, and frankly I can’t face another orange juice.’

He chuckled. ‘I know what you mean. Come with me,’ he said, and he took her by the arm over to the bar. ‘Two of your special fruit cocktails please, George,’ he told the barman.

‘Yes, Mr Gilmore, coming up.’

Bonny looked at the stranger with curiosity. ‘He seems to know you well,’ she remarked.

The man was amused. ‘Well, George knows my needs; he’s looked after me for quite a time. Giles Gilmore,’ he said with a slight bow of the head.

‘Bonny Burton,’ she replied, copying his bow.

The barman poured two drinks over crushed ice from a cocktail shaker and placed the glasses before them.

‘Chin chin,’ said Giles.

‘Cheers,’ Bonny replied and sipped the content of the glass. ‘This is lovely!’ Turning to the barman she asked, ‘What’s in it?’

‘My secret, I’m afraid, madam.’

She looked at Giles for assistance but he shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’

George left them to attend another customer.

Giles Gilmore intrigued Bonny, and she wondered just what he had to do with the theatre. Was he a producer, a critic, an actor? He was certainly good-looking but there was an air about him that was different. This man would never have to pretend, she didn’t think. He was too self assured.