Authors: June Tate
He smiled, knowing he had won.
The following day, Giles Gilmore sat in the office of Peter Collins. With a determined look in his eye, he spoke. ‘Peter, I have a business proposition for you.’
Rob Andrews was holding a meeting with the set designer, going over the details of the backgrounds to feature in his numbers, when Peter Collins walked in with Giles Gilmore. ‘Rob, can I have a word?’
Folding the plans of the sets, Rob nodded to the set designer and then walked over to the two men. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘You know Giles, I believe?’
‘We did meet briefly the other night.’
‘Well, Mr Andrews, we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the future,’ said Giles with a smile.
‘Really, how so?’
‘I have just bought the contracts for you and Miss Burton from Peter. I am now your manager!’
Rob looked astonished and angry. ‘You what?’ Then, glaring at Collins, he asked, ‘You did this without consulting me?’
‘Yes, old chap. Giles made me a good offer and I feel he can do more for you in the future than I can, so I wasn’t being absolutely selfish, I did have both your interests at heart. Giles is prepared to invest a considerable amount of money in you and Bonny. With his help you will go far.’
‘But you’ve never seen us perform, so on what have you based such a decision?’
‘As a matter of fact, I have. I heard that Peter was going to Southampton to watch a show and this made me curious, so I made it my business to find out why. I liked what I saw.’
‘So this is a fait accompli and there isn’t anything I can do about it, is that what you’re saying?’
‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that,’ said Giles, ‘but if you insist, yes, that about wraps it up.’
‘Then perhaps you would be good enough to enlighten me. After all, I have no idea just what it is that you can do for us and that makes me very nervous.’
Laughing heartily, Giles said, ‘Believe me, you will be delighted with my plans. I suggest that you and Miss Burton come to my
office after rehearsals and we can discuss the future.’ He handed Rob his card. ‘Shall we say six o’clock this evening?’
As the two men walked away, Rob read the card.
Giles
Gilmore.
Impresario.
Jermyn
Street,
London.
Now he was intrigued.
Bonny, unfamiliar with the business side of the theatre, was more than a little confused by the news, however, when Rob sought her out shortly after his conversation with Giles. ‘What do you mean, he bought our contracts?’
‘He’s now our manager and not Peter Collins. Collins has sold us as a package. We have to meet Gilmore this evening to hear his plans for the future.’
‘Is this good news, Rob?’
‘Time will tell. I’ll pick you up in a taxi at a quarter to six. Then we’ll see what Mr Gilmore has up his sleeve.’
As she and Shirley walked to their digs, Bonny told her friend what had transpired.
‘Well, imagine that. Who is this man?’
‘I’ve only met him briefly, he said he was something to do with the theatre, but honestly, Shirley, I have no idea.’ She gave the matter some thought. ‘He does have a certain air about him, you know. He comes across as somebody important with a lot of clout, and there is something about him that is truly fascinating, but I believe he could be quite ruthless. Although he oozes charm, there is a certain steeliness about him too.’
‘Is that good?’
‘I really don’t know, but it will be interesting to find out. All I do know is that Rob is not happy about it.’
Rob Andrews was fuming about the change of circumstances. With Collins he knew exactly where he was. He had complete control over the choreography of his part of the show and that was just as he liked it. Now, things could change and he wasn’t at all sure that would sit well with him – and he had decided if the meeting tonight didn’t please him he would fight for the things he wanted. Giles Gilmore would learn that he was no pushover.
For his part, Giles was more than a little aware of the hostility from Andrews, and if he had been in the man’s position he would have felt the same. However, he felt that the ideas he had for a
new show would meet with the approval of the talented musical director. If Rob became too difficult, then of course he would deal with that too. Bonny was the star he was most interested in. True, at the moment, it was in a partnership with Andrews, as it would serve to establish her in the public’s eye when the present show opened. After that it would be up to him as her manager to decide her future, and he had already made up his mind: she would be a solo artist. Eventually, Rob Andrews, as her partner, would become redundant!
In the East End of London, an impresario of another kind was making his plans too. Charlie Gordon, known as Foxy, was a fight promoter and ran a boxing agency and gym. He had several fighters of repute on his books and his successes in the fight world were impressive. He was a tough individual with a colourful past. Not particularly tall, he was thickset and muscular and could lay out a man with a fast right hook and sometimes a knee in the groin when the occasion arose.
He himself had once been a boxer with a good record in the ring. As a young man he’d been involved in bare fist fights held privately and against the law. Such bouts had left their mark on his features. His nose was twisted where it had been broken, and his left ear was well described as a cauliflower. A trainer had eventually taken him in hand, and he’d earned a good living in the ring until he decided he’d had enough and had started his own gym.
Foxy was not adverse to breaking the law but was clever enough – hence his nickname – to cover his tracks, most of the time, but he had been in prison for being part of the betting syndicate that Giles Gilmore had taken to court several years ago. It had taken a very long time for him to re-establish himself and he never forgot the man who had been responsible for his incarceration. He had watched Gilmore’s rise to fame and fortune and vowed that one day, however long it took, he would get even with him. He could wait but he was certain that one day he’d find the right moment to teach Gilmore a lesson he wouldn’t forget. The man would pay for every year that he had spent in prison. But now, he had a prize fight to organize.
Rob and Bonny were ushered into Giles’s office by his secretary. There was a quiet air of opulence about the room. It was tastefully
furnished, with a couple of paintings on the wall; comfortable chairs were placed in front of a heavily carved walnut desk.
‘Please sit down,’ Giles invited. He noticed that Bonny looked a trifle perturbed but Rob Andrews sat upright and stiff, ready for battle. Giles hid a smile. ‘When I saw the two of you dance in Southampton, I was most impressed,’ he began. ‘I could see great potential being wasted and was delighted when I heard that Peter Collins had taken you both on to his books. You should be performing in the West End as stars, you
deserve
to be in the West End, and with my help, you will become the public’s favourite performers.’
‘How do you intend to do this?’ asked Rob.
‘It has been my aim to produce a musical that will make the theatrical world sit up and take notice. I have the finances to do this, and now with the two of you, I have the stars to front it.’
‘Just exactly what have you in mind?’ Rob was now becoming interested.
For the next two hours, Giles laid his plans before the two of them. The show was to be a musical spectacular with a host of dancers of the highest calibre, with Rob and Bonny the stars.
Rob could see that without a doubt this show, which Giles had masterminded, would be an incredible theatrical event. ‘And who do you have in mind as the musical director?’
‘Why you, of course, Rob. Why would I want anyone else? You have the talent, you have a fresh approach, I like your ideas and I’m sure together we can put together a brilliant show.’ Giles looked at Rob and thought,
I’ve
got
him
by
the
short
and
curlies!
Bonny had been sitting listening to the discussion with bated breath. This sounded wonderful. It was more that she had ever imagined. Her name would be in lights over a West End theatre. It was every performer’s ambition.
Giles turned to her and asked, ‘Well, Bonny my dear, let me hear what you think about all this.’
‘It all takes my breath away, to be honest. It sounds almost too good to be true.’
Chuckling, Giles said, ‘Believe me, it will be a sensation and so will you. I believe you have even more to show the public than we have seen already.’ He turned to Rob. ‘I want Bonny to have several solo spots in the show, backed by a great chorus line, so bear that in mind, Rob, when you start to choreograph the dances.’
He rang for his secretary. ‘Champagne, please, I do believe we have something to celebrate.’
Whilst they all drank to the future with Giles, Rob’s mind was in a whirl. He was torn between being a performer and being a dance director … The fact that Giles wanted Bonny in several solo spots would give him the extra time he needed to put something spectacular together.
Giles watched Rob with interest; he knew what was going through the man’s mind. Rob was an exceptional choreographer and Giles understood how much that meant to him. In Rob’s mind, that was what he really loved, it was only Bonny’s talent that had put him back on the boards. His ambition was the other side of the footlights and this suited Giles’ plans beautifully.
As they left Gilmore’s office, Rob lifted Bonny off her feet and spun her round, before placing her back on the pavement. Then, to her surprise, he kissed her. ‘This is going to be great! Gilmore can take us to the pinnacle of our careers. You have no idea just how lucky we are. Come on, I’ll buy you dinner to celebrate.’
Over dinner he enthused even more, telling her he had some superb ideas for the show. ‘For once I’ll have the finances to do just what I want, and with you as the star, I know we will be successful.’
He took her home in a taxi, walking with her to her front door. He gazed into her eyes and said softly, ‘Bonny Burton, you will be the toast of the West End if I have my way,’ and he leaned forward and kissed her softly.
As she made her way to her bedroom, Bonny’s head was in a whirl. So much had happened today. What with the promise of a starring role in a new production and now … Rob kissing her, but not like a dancing partner. Oh no, it was much more than that and she didn’t know how to handle it.
The present show was due to open in four months’ time, and now this great opportunity beckoned, Bonny was beside herself with excitement and desperate to share the news with her parents, so on Sunday she took the train to Southampton.
Millie and Frank were delighted to see her and plied her with questions about the rehearsals, her life in London – and her mother queried the food she was given in her digs!
‘Oh, Mum! Mrs Gregg looks after us very well. As I told you, Shirley has now moved in, so that’s great. But I have some really
exciting news to tell you!’ And she told them all about Giles Gilmore and his plans for her future.
They were both astonished as Bonny told them all the details.
Millie hugged her daughter. ‘That’s wonderful, isn’t it, Frank?’ She turned to her husband. ‘Imagine! Our Bonny’s name in lights!’
Frank Burton looked somewhat apprehensive. ‘It’s a very big step for one so young.’
Millie was furious. ‘There you go again, blowing cold air on everything instead of being a proud father. What on earth is wrong with you?’
‘It’s not that, love. But Bonny is so young and this will change her life completely. Fame is a two-edged sword. It brings with it a great deal of responsibility.’
‘What do you mean, Dad?’
‘You will be in the public eye. Your every move will be watched. You carry the responsibility of the show on your shoulders as the lead. Are you ready for all this, Bonny?’
‘To be honest I hadn’t thought of it in those terms.’
‘Well, don’t you think you should before you agree to take it on?’
‘I have already agreed. But nothing will change who I am inside. Fame won’t go to my head, I can assure you. I’ve had to work too hard to get where I am and I know that there is even more hard work in front of me. Don’t you understand, Dad, that this is exactly what I’ve been training for?’
‘Of course I do. It has come earlier than I expected, that’s all. I just think it’s a great deal to take on at your tender age.’
Bonny knelt beside her father. ‘I do understand your concerns, but you must remember, I am no longer your little girl. I am a grown woman, a dancer, a performer. It’s all I live for.’
Putting an arm around her, Frank looked at the concern mirrored in her eyes. ‘And you are a talented performer, at that. I am so proud of you, Bonny, but I am still your dad and I worry about you and this life you have entered. Listen, I’m just an old fool, who has never done anything exciting in his life … except marry your mother, and that was brave of me.’ He smiled wryly.
‘Frank Burton! How could you say such a thing?’ Millie chided.
‘Ah well, Millie love, you were and are a formidable woman. Bonny takes after you.’
‘Bloody good job too! If she took after you she wouldn’t go
anywhere that was different. Think about it. We go to the Isle of Wight for a week’s holiday every September and to the social club on a Saturday night. How exciting is that?’
‘Now then, you two, enough arguing. Let’s put on our coats and go for a walk.’
But that night, when he climbed into bed next to his wife, Frank Burton couldn’t help but feel that his daughter was stepping into a world full of difficulties and some danger. He hoped that she would prove him wrong.
Felix Pearson, a chorus boy in the Peter Collins show that was about to open, was working out at the gym owned by Foxy Gordon. The young good-looking boy liked to keep fit, and as his father and Foxy were old mates, Felix was allowed to come and go as he pleased. He was tall, blonde and had a build that was the envy of every man in the building. He was a talented dancer and took care of his body and his looks, which, apart from his talent, were paramount to his career. No one wanted a chorus boy who was unattractive.
He was also, without knowing it, a good source of gossip about the theatre and what was going on in that world to Foxy, who liked to keep abreast of things, especially if it had anything to do with Giles Gilmore, and today Felix had a juicy bit of gossip to pass on.
The promoter wandered over to the boy, who was working on a rowing machine. ‘All right, lad?’
‘Fine, thanks, I’m just about to finish. Can you get me four tickets for the big fight? Only I’d like to bring some friends to see it.’
‘No problem, Felix. So what’s been going on, the rehearsals going well?’
‘Yes, thanks. You must come and see the show. We have Rob Andrews the musical director dancing with a fabulous girl called Bonny. They’re doing an Astaire–Rogers set of numbers that will knock your socks off … and Giles Gilmore is so impressed by them, rumour has it he’s bought their contract off Peter Collins for a new show he’s producing! It should be fantastic. If you come to the Adelphi to see my show when it opens, you’ll see them for yourself. They are terrific together.’
Foxy was more than interested. ‘Are you bringing them to the fight?’
‘I’m bringing Bonny and her friend Shirley, and a mate of mine, Bryan, another chorus boy. They know I train here and when I told them you had a big fight coming up I suggested they might like to see it.’
‘You must introduce me to them after,’ said Foxy. ‘I’d like to
meet this new star and I certainly will be at the show. I’ll book the tickets today.’ He walked away, pondering over this scrap of gossip, curious to know more about Giles Gilmore’s plan for a new show. Gilmore was a wealthy man but he surely must need more backers to spread the cost. It took a great deal of money to finance a show in the West End, and knowing Giles was going to produce it himself, it would be a spectacular. Foxy planned to make a few discreet enquiries.
At Streatham Town Hall, the crowd were taking their seats, ready for the several bouts of boxing that came before the main event: a middleweight title fight. Foxy’s fighter, Mickey O’Halleran, the pride of Ireland, was the favourite to beat battling Joe Granger, a southpaw, who had a few good wins under his belt and was the present holder of the title.
Bonny and Shirley were very excited as this was their first visit to such an event. As they settled in their seats, near the front, Bonny was questioning Felix as to what was about to happen.
He explained that the three judges would mark each round, and at the end the man with the most votes would be the winner. The fanfare sounded for the first bout. Two lightweights were about to enter the ring, and the crowd grew restless watching the men walk from the dressing rooms as they were announced over the loudspeaker by a man in the ring dressed in an evening suit. And soon after, the fight began.
Both Shirley and Bonny chose their favourites and cheered him on and groaned when he was eventually knocked to the floor and counted out. After two more bouts, the crowd waited noisily for the main event to start. The fanfare sounded and the boxers walked into the arena.
The Irishman was first to climb into the ring and as he was introduced; he walked to the centre, held up his gloved hand and saluted the crowd. He caught Bonny’s gaze and winked at her. She felt her colour rise. He didn’t look at all like a fighter. He was tall, well built, but his handsome face was unblemished. Bonny hoped it wouldn’t be disfigured during the fisticuffs that were to follow.
His opponent climbed into the ring and Bonny’s heart sank. The man looked a bruiser. His nose was slightly twisted and he had a mean look about him. He didn’t walk to the centre of the ring
when his name was announced; he just looked around at the crowd with an arrogant stare, as if to say, you came to see me because I’m the best. Bonny took an instant dislike to him.
She turned to Felix and said, ‘That man looks a killer.’
‘Oh, he’s tough all right, but Mickey is a great boxer and skilful. My money’s on him.’
Bonny prayed he was right. The referee called the men into the centre of the ring and had a few words with them and they returned to their corner. The bell rang for the first round.
By the fifth round, Bonny was a nervous wreck. Granger was a good boxer with a dangerous left fist, but he was cumbersome, whereas O’Halleran was light on his feet and faster. The two men exchanged punches, all of which counted in the marking, Felix explained, but as the fight progressed, the Irishman was getting the upper hand and tiring his opponent. One lucky blow to the chin, quickly followed by another, sent Granger to the floor, where the referee stood over him and counted. Bonny held her breath. But at the eighth count, the man rose to his feet. Just then the bell rang for the end of the round.
‘Damn!’ muttered Felix. ‘This break will give him time to recover. Look how the seconds are working on him.’
The men in Granger’s corner were fanning their man with a towel, giving him some water to swill his mouth out, which he spat into a bucket, and then he sniffed on some smelling salts as the bell rang for the next round.
The following round was furious. Mickey sensed that he had his man on the run and Granger fought hard knowing he was behind in the fight, but with a sudden jab and a hard punch from the Irishman, Granger was again on the canvas … and this time he was counted out.
Felix and the girls jumped to their feet, yelling and clapping as were those around them. The verdict was unanimous in the Irishman’s favour. A new middleweight champion was announced. There was a ceremony after, where the Irishman was presented with the Lonsdale belt, which was strapped round his bare torso, and then the boxer was carried on the shoulders by the seconds in his corner, which all added to the excitement of the evening.
After the fight, Felix escorted the girls and his friend to the dressing room of the winner, where the promoter was waiting with his man.
Felix introduced his friends, who shook their hands and introduced them to the new champ. Bonny looked carefully at Mickey’s face, which was red and swollen across the eyebrows. She covered her mouth with her hand, thinking how awful it was for such a good-looking man to be so marked.
The fighter looked at her and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. The swelling will go down and the bruises fade.’
‘Is it worth being hurt this way?’ she asked.
‘Boxing is what I do best and this comes with the job. And what do you do best, darlin’?’
‘I dance for a living.’
‘Now tell me, princess, don’t your feet hurt and don’t you get bruised in the process?’
She had to smile as she confessed she did.
‘And does that ever make you think you’d give it all up?’
‘Never!’
‘There you go! Now tell me, where do you do this dancing?’
She told him and explained that the show was due to open in a few days.
‘Then I shall come and watch you, Bonny.’
Foxy Gordon watched this interchange with a slow smile. O’Halleran had the natural charm of the Irish and he could see that this beautiful young girl was flattered. Well, that suited him. If his boy was interested in her, this could work to his advantage. He would encourage it. ‘Come along, people,’ he said, ‘my boy needs a good massage and a shower, so let’s leave him alone.’
Mickey smiled at Bonny. ‘Good luck, princess. I’ll be at your opening night.’
As they left, Shirley dug her friend in the back. ‘Hey, the champ likes you and he’s so good-looking. You lucky girl!’
‘Don’t be daft. He was just being nice, that’s all.’ But as they walked away she secretly hoped he meant what he said.
At last it was opening night. Peter Collins was strutting around backstage checking that all was in order – his nerves on edge. He hated first nights. It was exciting but a great worry. There were always a few weak spots that needed to be ironed out, but it would be tonight that the theatre critics took their seats and Peter knew that their reviews the following day could quickly close a show – if they panned it. Not that he expected bad reviews – the rehearsals
showed him he should have a success in his hands – but you never could be too sure.
Backstage, the atmosphere was electric. First night nerves affected even the most seasoned performer and the noise in the dressing rooms was like being at a zoo. Rob Andrews soon put a stop to it all. He strode from one dressing room to another and laid down the law.
‘Enough of this noise! Settle down and focus. Sit and think of your opening number while you put your make-up on, instead of wasting your breath twittering away like a lot of frenzied monkeys! Enough, do you hear!’
It had the desired affect and a sudden calm descended.
The orchestra could be heard tuning their instruments. ‘Overture and beginners please,’ came a voice over the loudspeakers. And the show opened.
The house was packed, with not a spare seat to be had. Among the audience, Bernie Cohen, Giles Gilmore, the theatre critics, Mickey O’Halleran and Foxy Gordon sat and watched the opening number.
The first half went well and then after the interval the second half that Rob Andrews had choreographed began. The first number, which featured he and Bonny, was greeted with tumultuous applause, while the final number had the audience on their feet. Shouts of, ‘Bravo! Encore!’ could be heard.
Rob nodded to the conductor, who, holding his baton, led the orchestra in another number. Rob had anticipated the reaction of the audience and he and Bonny had practised an extra routine. In this finale, the whole cast came on the stage to a rousing number, and when Rob and Bonny finally danced down the staircase in the background, once again the audience were on their feet. One of the front of house staff walked on stage and handed Bonny two sumptuous bouquets. Then the final curtain came down.
Rob picked Bonny up in his arms, kissed her and said, ‘Well done, Bonny, you were magnificent. The audience loved you.’
Removing her blonde wig, which after so much exertion was making her feel so hot, she grinned at her partner. ‘They loved
us,
Rob, not just me.’
Peter Collins and Dan Mansfield, the other musical director, rushed over and shook Rob by the hand.
‘Bloody brilliant job!’ Dan enthused. We, my friend, have a hit on our hands.’
Rob laughed. ‘I do believe you’re right. Your half of the programme was great too. Congratulations!’
‘Well done, everybody,’ Peter cried. ‘Now don’t forget we have another show tomorrow, so don’t go mad tonight.’
Shirley and Bonny flopped into their chairs in the dressing room that they shared. ‘I am completely knackered,’ said Bonny, ‘but you know, I could do it all over again, it was so great out there.’
‘Who sent you the flowers?’ asked Shirley.
‘Oh my gosh, I forgot to look in all the excitement.’ She took the card out of the small envelope of one of the bouquets and read it.
Tonight,
a
star
is
born.
Congratulations.
Giles
Gilmore.
She passed it over to her friend.
After reading it, Shirley said, ‘He’s right, you know. After tonight’s performance, your name will become very well known. It will be in all the theatrical columns tomorrow, so you’d better start getting used to it, because your life is going to change.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘I’ve seen it happen before, but not very often.’ She nudged Bonny. ‘I’ll be able to say, oh, yes, I knew her when she was nothing!’ And she burst out laughing. ‘Now see who sent the other,’ she urged, her curiosity unbowed.
Bonny did so. The card read,
Congratulations,
princess.
When
can
I
take
you
out
to
dinner?
Mickey.
Shirley, who read the card over her friend’s shoulder, whispered, ‘See, I was right, he fancies you. Will you go?’
Bonny looked at her with shining eyes. ‘I think I might just do that.’
There was a knock on the door and then it opened. Mickey O’Halleran stood there, looking resplendent in a dinner jacket, his face, apart from a little yellowing over his eyebrows, looking as handsome as when Bonny had first seen him.
‘Well, princess, that was indeed a championship performance if ever I saw one. You were magnificent!’
Bonny was thrilled. ‘Did you really think so?’
‘Sure I did, and so did every member of the audience. How about letting me take you out to celebrate? We’ll go to the Savoy, have a meal and some champagne to drink to your success.’
‘I’d love to! But I must get changed first.’
‘I’ll wait by the stage door for you; don’t be too long, I know what you women are like.’
Bonny laughed. ‘You forget we dancers are used to quick changes, I promise I won’t be long.’
Foxy Gordon walked out of the Adelphi Theatre deep in thought. He had been in the business of training champions all his life and he knew a winner when he saw one. He wanted a part of the action of these new dancers. They could take the West End by storm, and with Giles Gilmore behind them, there was no limit to how far they could rise. Despite the bitterness he felt about the impresario, Foxy acknowledged the man’s impeccable eye for a hit. If there was a way of his getting a share of the new show, he too would make a mint of money, which he was never averse to doing, by whatever means. He pulled out a cigar from his jacket pocket and lit it. Puffing on it as he walked – making plans.