Ellie (79 page)

The woman looked at Ellie with furtive eyes. ‘Got the money?’ she said. Ellie opened her handbag and took out the wad of notes. The woman licked her thumb, flicked through them counting, then shoved them in the pocket of her apron. ‘You’d better take your things off,’ she said, flicking the ash from her cigarette into what looked like a sardine can.

The smell of the cigarette made Ellie feel nauseous. Despite the warm day the window was tightly shut and a heavy, dirty lace curtain covered it, obscuring any view. But she could hear children playing and a ball bouncing close by. She felt they were only yards away.

‘How much do I take off?’ Ellie put her coat and bag on one of the easy chairs, looking nervously at the table.

‘Yer drawers,’ the woman said curtly. Going to one of the cardboard boxes, she brought out a sheet which she spread over the table.

As Ellie fumbled beneath her skirt to take her knickers off, Mr Cole came into the room, carrying an enamel kidney dish. In it was a steaming long thin rod and a speculum, very similar to the one used by Dr Rodriguez to open her up and peer inside her.

It wasn’t the instruments which frightened her so much, even though they jingled in his shaking hands, but Mr Cole. She’d never seen him before, but she’d seen his type so often as a child, lurching out of public houses. His nose was purple, the same high colour across his cheekbones, unshaven and bloodshot eyes. Even from a distance of six feet, above the smell of stale sweat, she could smell the drink.

‘Pull your skirt up,’ he said, giving what passed as a smile, showing rotting teeth. ‘And hop up on the table.’

‘I’m scared,’ she whimpered. ‘Will it hurt?’

‘No more than the cock that got you into this mess,’ he said with a leer, as he put down the dish to take hold of her arm.

Ellie looked down at his hand. It was covered in engorged veins, black hair sprouting on the backs of his fingers, every nail ragged and dirty. She thought of those white soft hands of Dr Rodriguez, how gently and reverently they had felt her stomach, and she felt the room spin.

‘Don’t fuckin’ faint on me, girl,’ she heard the man say, as if from a distance.

Hands were grabbing her. She didn’t know if it was him, or the woman, but suddenly she found herself flat on her back on the table, water splashing on her face.

‘I can’t breathe,’ she wheezed, struggling to get air. The woman was holding down her shoulders, another cigarette in her mouth, the smoke belching into Ellie’s face. But worse still, the man was pushing her knees up roughly, and thrusting the speculum into her.

‘Keep bloody still,’ the woman muttered, gripping Ellie’s shoulders.

Ellie submitted to the hot speculum being pushed into her, numbed by shock. Mr Cole was cranking it open, and his breath was hot against her inner thigh. But as she stared sightlessly above her, trying hard to distance herself from the embarrassment and discomfort, she suddenly saw her mother’s face as clearly as if Polly was looking down through a hole in the stained ceiling. Her expression was one Ellie remembered so clearly when she’d been naughty, a sad, ‘please don’t do this’ face, one that had always shamed her into obedience.

‘Please stop,’ Ellie gasped, struggling to get up. ‘I can’t do this.’

‘You silly cow,’ Mr Cole said, pulling out the speculum none too gently, clutching her thigh. ‘I ain’t got time for hysterics. Do you want me to get rid of it or not?’

‘No.’ Ellie pushed him away from her. It wasn’t so much fear of pain that prompted her violent reaction, but a protective instinct for the tiny life inside her. ‘I can’t, it’s wrong.’

‘It ain’t right to bring a little bleeder into the world when you don’t want it neither,’ the woman snapped. ‘You girls are all the same, open yer bleedin’ legs for anyone, then you cry when yer caught out. Now let’s get on with it.’

Had there been a little sympathy or reassurance from the couple, Ellie might have changed her mind, but the woman’s insulting remark wiped out any hesitation.

‘I can’t go through with it.’ She brushed off the woman’s restraining hand on her shoulder and tried to cover herself with her skirt. ‘Let me go.’

‘You silly bleedin’ mare!’ Mr Cole sneered at her. ‘Gaw on, push off then.’

Ellie was off the table in a second, knocking the kidney dish to the floor as she grabbed her knickers and coat. ‘Let me have my money back,’ she said.

Mr Cole let out a bellow of derisive laughter. ‘Fuck off,’ he said, rheumy eyes narrowing. ‘There ain’t no refunds ’ere.’

‘Give it back or I’ll go to the police,’ Ellie said more bravely than she felt. ‘You ought to be locked up for doing this.’

She didn’t see him move. One second he was a few feet from her, the next she felt his fist crash into her cheek.

‘Get out of ’ere,’ he yelled. ‘While you still can.’

Ellie took one look at his clenched fists and she knew he meant it. She snatched her handbag from the chair, backed to the door, opened it, and ran.

She was at the end of Sussex Gardens before she realised she was still holding her knickers in her hand. Blood was running down her cheek and she was crying.

‘Ellie, open up!’

Ellie lifted her head from the pillow at the sound of Bonny’s voice, but she couldn’t get up. She had got back from Paddington some two hours earlier; she should have gone straight to the theatre, to get ready for tonight’s performance, but she couldn’t face it.

‘I know you’re in there,’ Bonny said, her voice coming right through the keyhole. ‘And if you don’t unlock the door, I’ll go and ask your landlady for a key.’

‘Go away Bonny,’ Ellie said feebly. ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘You’d better,’ Bonny said firmly. ‘They’re going crazy at the theatre because you haven’t turned up. I said I expected you were ill and I’d come here to check. If you won’t speak to me, you’ll have the producer on your back.’

Sighing, Ellie got up and unlocked the door, but went straight back to her bed and slumped down.

Bonny came in, turned on the light and looked down at her friend.

Ellie’s Islington digs were good, compared with many they’d shared. Highbury Place was a pleasant wide road overlooking a park, number 4 a well-kept, large terraced house with white stone steps. Ellie had a room of her own with a proper divan, a washbasin, even a bedside rug. But after Bonny’s airy and spacious flat in Kensington she found it depressing and wrinkled her nose at the all too familiar seediness and the musty smell.

‘What’s happened?’ she asked, bending over to touch the raw place on Ellie’s cheek. ‘Who did that to you?’

For a while Ellie wouldn’t reply; she just turned over on her stomach and sobbed into the pillow. Bonny sat down on the bed and stroked her hair, urging her to explain.

‘I had this feeling something had happened this afternoon,’ she said softly. ‘It wouldn’t go away so I went to the Theatre Royal. When they told me they hadn’t seen you and the understudy was going on I was so afraid. Tell me? Please!’

Slowly Ellie told the story, her face still half buried in the pillow, but Bonny caught hold of her and turned her round, drawing her into her arms as if Ellie were a small child.

‘You were very brave,’ she whispered. ‘I’m glad you didn’t go through with it. He might have butchered you, like that other man did me. I’ll look after you, Ellie, I promise I will. I know I haven’t always been a good friend to you, but I won’t let you down now.’

It was odd for Ellie to be on the receiving end of comfort, but she let herself be held and sobbed out all her fears. ‘How can I bring up a baby? It will be like Mum and me all over again. I didn’t want to kill it, Bonny, but how will I manage? And there’s Sir Miles too.’

She didn’t know why she brought up his name. She hardly knew the man, but since he came to her first night with his wife she’d been thinking about him constantly. She was sure it was Sir Miles she had to thank for the part of Annie. He was most definitely interested in her. She’d even found herself weaving little day-dreams of confiding in him the next time she saw him. It was silly, she knew that, but she hadn’t got any other family.

‘What’s Sir Miles got to do with it? Bonny asked. She understood all Ellie’s other fears, but not that one. John knew Sir Miles and Lady Hamilton well, but as far as Bonny knew, Ellie had only met him once, at the Savoy.

‘I think he’s my father,’ Ellie blurted out.

Bonny laughed. She thought Ellie was delirious. ‘Oh really? Mine’s Winston Churchill!’

It was too late for Ellie to retract it now. She began to cry again, horrified that in a moment of weakness she’d revealed something so potentially dangerous.

‘I don’t understand,’ Bonny said, suddenly aware she’d heard something which was never meant to be told. ‘How can he be your father?’

‘Promise me you’ll never tell anyone, not even John.’ Ellie caught hold of Bonny’s hand, wringing it in her distress.

‘I promise,’ Bonny said, disengaging her hand. ‘But explain. You can’t just come out with something like that and expect me to forget it.’

Ellie sobbed out the story.

‘You mustn’t ever tell,’ she finished up.

‘Of course I won’t say anything,’ Bonny assured her. She was stunned by the news, but even more astounded that Ellie had kept it a secret for so long. ‘But he’s the answer to your problem, Ellie. Why don’t you go to him and ask for help. It’s his grandchild, after all. He’ll make Ray marry you.’

‘I wouldn’t marry Ray if he came crawling to me on his knees,’ Ellie spat out angrily. ‘And I’m certainly not going cap in hand to Sir Miles. Marleen might’ve been wrong, even if she wasn’t, it makes no difference.’

Bonny sighed. If she was in Ellie’s shoes she’d use anyone who might make life easier for her. But then Ellie wasn’t like that. She was too noble for her own good sometimes. ‘You’ve got to pull yourself together,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to make any decisions just now, it’s too soon. All you’ve got to do for now is look after yourself.’

‘Oh Bonny!’ Ellie sobbed. ‘I feel so dreadful. I’m so scared. I just don’t know what to do.’

Bonny held Ellie tightly, rocking her soothingly. She remembered feeling that way when she was pregnant by the American airman. ‘Don’t be scared,’ she implored her. ‘I promised I’d help and I meant it. You won’t show for ages yet and we’ll think of something. Maybe your friends Amos and Dora will help you. If not, once I’m married and living in Somerset, you can come there. We can find someone who’ll look after the baby when you’re working. When I lived in Dagenham there was a woman down our street who used to take in foster children.’

‘Maybe I’ll miscarry,’ Ellie muttered into Bonny’s shoulder. ‘If I keep on dancing it could happen.’

‘Maybe you will.’ Bonny began to undo the buttons on Ellie’s dress. ‘But for now you’re going to bed and I’ll ring the theatre and tell them you got knocked down today and were in such shock you didn’t think to let them know.’

Ellie looked at Bonny and smiled wanly. ‘You always were a good story-teller. I hope you can find a happy ending for this one.’

‘We’ll think of something.’ Bonny kissed Ellie’s cheek. ‘And you make sure you come to my wedding, or I’ll never speak to you again.’

Jack was driving a customer’s car back to Amberley village when he saw a figure ahead of him. Only one girl in the world had such shiny blonde hair and that provocative wiggle and his heart turned a complete somersault with shock.

He had heard from Miss Wynter that Bonny was getting married in a couple of weeks, and been relieved that it would be in London. He should have realised she was bound to visit Miss Wynter before the big day.

At the sound of the car coming up behind her, Bonny turned. She was wearing a slim-fitting pink costume with a matching frivolous hat, and high-heeled ankle strap shoes entirely unsuitable for a two-mile walk.

Had there been a chance for Jack to turn off and pretend he hadn’t seen her, he would have taken it. But she was already lifting one gloved hand in greeting. He cursed his red hair for standing out like a beacon.

There was nothing for it but to slow down and stop. He was bound to run into her some time, after all.

‘Well, hello Jack,’ she said, coming up to the passenger door and bending to look in the window at him. ‘How are you?’

‘Pretty good.’ He tried to look very casual, but, absurdly, wished he wasn’t in greasy overalls. ‘I hear you’re getting married?’

‘Happens to the best of us,’ she said, her blue eyes even more vivid than he remembered. ‘I heard you married Ginny. Now are you going to give the a lift up to Aunt Lydia’s? Or are you still sore at me?’

Jack had always sworn to himself that if he ever saw her again he would cut her dead, but one look at that beautiful face which had once meant everything in the world to him weakened his resolve.

‘How can I be sore when it all worked out for the best?’ He forced a smile. ‘I don’t think I’d better give you a lift though. Ginny’s away for a few days and you were always good at making tongues wag.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Bonny giggled. ‘What could be more natural than giving an old chum a lift, especially when she’s only here to make wedding plans? If you’re really worried you could drop me off just before the village.’

He cursed himself for having revealed that Ginny was away; he should have said he was just going to pick her up from the shop.

‘Okay then.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Hop in.’

‘Is this your car?’ she asked as he moved off.

‘No, a customer’s.’ He kept his eyes straight ahead on the road, but he could still see her long, slender legs out of the corner of his eye and it was making him sweat. ‘I’ve got a Ford Anglia myself, things are going really well.’

‘I’m glad,’ she said and Jack felt she was sincere. ‘I didn’t get to Hollywood – I don’t want that any more anyway. But I’m really happy you got what you wanted.’

‘Everything I ever dreamed of,’ he agreed, yet to his dismay it sounded like a brave lie. ‘A lovely wife, a nice home and my own business. Still got a way to go yet to the string of garages, but I’ll get them.’

He pulled up before they hit the first house in the village. ‘Sorry I can’t take you the whole way.’ He leaned across her to open the door. ‘Good luck, Bonny. I hope you’ll be as happy in your marriage as Ginny and me.’