by June Tate
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.
Ten
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.
Eleven
Rob Andrews changed and decided that he would take Bonny out to celebrate, but when he knocked on the dressing room door, it was Shirley who opened it.