Born to Dance

by June Tate

Everything stopped. Rob ran forward and knelt beside her. He took one look at the pain etched on her face and called an ambulance.

  As she was carried into the vehicle on a stretcher she caught hold of Rob’s hand. ‘Please, call Mickey.’

  Mickey O’Halleran rushed to the hospital as soon as he got the call. Rob was waiting for him.

  ‘What the bloody hell happened?’ Mickey demanded.

  Rob explained as best he could, but he was beside himself with worry. ‘Bonny is being X-rayed at the moment. We’ll just have to wait and see the result.’

  Both men walked up and down, lost in their own thoughts. Rob was overcome with guilt, feeling he had pushed Bonny into working with him, and Mickey was livid with the choreographer, blaming him for putting Bonny in the position where she might damage herself. Neither man shared their fears with the other.

  Eventually, Nigel Matthews, the surgeon who had previously operated on Bonny, walked into the waiting area, carrying the X-ray plates. His expression was grim. ‘I don’t have good news for you, Mr O’Halleran, I’m afraid. Bonny has torn the cartilage in her knee. The cartilage works like a shock absorber, so you can imagine how vitally important it is, and Bonny already weakened that knee when she had the fall earlier in the year.’

  ‘Is there anything you can do for her?’ asked Mickey.

  ‘I can trim part of the meniscus, the cartilage, probably, but I’m afraid Bonny’s dancing days are over.’

  ‘Does she know?’ The boxer’s face was pale as he asked.

  ‘Not yet. I thought I’d break the bad news to you first.’

  ‘Then let’s do it! Bonny will want to know as soon as possible.’ He turned to Rob. ‘I guess you’d better get back to work. You’ll have to manage alone now.’

  ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am,’ Rob began, but Mickey was already walking away with the surgeon.

  Bonny was propped up in bed in a side room, her heart beating wildly, waiting for the verdict, but deep inside she felt the news would not be good. At the sight of Mickey she held out her arms to him.

  He rushed to comfort her. ‘I don’t know about you, princess. You’re not safe to be left alone for a minute!’ He kissed her and then gently sat on the bed, holding her in his arms as Nigel Matthews told her his news.

  She listened and after, with a tremor in her voice, she said, ‘I knew it wasn’t good as soon as I did it. Oh Mickey, now my dancing days are really over.’

  ‘I’m afraid so, darlin’. For once he was at a loss as how to comfort her.

  ‘I am sorry, Bonny.’ The surgeon looked at her with sympathy. ‘But these things happen in life. Now we must try and get it sorted as best we can. I’ll come back and see you later when I know when we can carry out the operation.’

  Bonny’s eyes filled with tears, her face pale and drawn. ‘Oh Mickey, how can I face this? Never able to dance again! How can I live without that? Dancing is my life!’ She started to sob. ‘I never craved stardom. As long as I could dance I was content … and now …’ She couldn’t continue as sobs racked her body.

  Mickey didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen her like this. He just held her close until her sobs subsided. After all, he knew that one day he’d have to give up appearing in the ring, but that would be his choice. Poor Bonny hadn’t been given one.

  ‘Come along, princess, you have to take this on the chin. Life is a bitch but when it throws you a curve you either fight it or go under – and I refuse to let that happen. We’ll get through this next while, then we’ll have to make new plans.’

  ‘But we did all this before! At least then I had a chance. Now … I have nothing!’

  ‘What do you mean you have nothing?’ Mickey said angrily. ‘You have so much. You still have your youth; you have your whole life in front of you. It will just be a different one, that’s all. At least you did achieve your ambition; many people struggle through life and never ever do.’

  Bonny wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘You’re right, of course. I just can’t think straight. I know I’m lucky to have tasted success.’

  Mickey cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her. ‘Those are the bravest words I’ve heard for a long time.’

  ‘I’m not brave, Mickey, just being realistic. At least I’ll still be able to walk; that’s something.’ She grimaced and tried to be cheerful for his sake. ‘I’m not looking forward to more exercises with the physio though. They were more than tedious.’ She looked at him and smiled ruefully. ‘I used to get so bad tempered – remember?’

  ‘Oh yes. I thought you were going to floor me on occasion. But darlin’, that was your fighting spirit, don’t ever lose that.’

  ‘But what about after? What will I do then?’ Despite her acceptance of the situation, Mickey could hear the uncertainty and fear in her voice. Beneath the bravado, his lovely girl was scared of the future.

  ‘One step at a time, princess. Let’s get you over the first hurdle before we plan what to do about the next one.’

  Back in the practice room, Rob informed his dancers of the outcome at the hospital. They were all saddened by the news.

  ‘Right!’ snapped Rob, ‘we owe it to Bonny to work really hard. After all, she’s put in many an hour with you all. We have to show her just how good a teacher she was. When she’s out of hospital, no doubt she will come and watch you. We can’t let her down, so let’s get cracking!’

  But later that night, when she was alone, Bonny Burton wept bitterly for what might have been.

  Thirty-One

  Detective Inspector Phillips, sat at his desk, pored over the report of Wally Cole’s death and scratched his head. His gut feeling was that Foxy Gordon was behind the murder of the local gangster, but how the hell was he going to prove it? He didn’t have any evidence at all to support his theory. Certainly no reason to get a search warrant for his premises. It was beginning to eat away at him.

  Phillips avidly studied Foxy’s statement then called his sergeant in. ‘I want you to go to this club that Foxy Gordon used as his alibi and question everyone who Gordon said was there at the time he said he was playing cards, starting with the staff. Hopefully he slipped up somewhere.’

  The sergeant looked doubtful. ‘We were thorough the last time, sir, but we came up empty.’

  ‘Then try again. Maybe you missed something. Take Jill Masters with you.’ Philips had had a sudden idea. The last time the club was under scrutiny it had been done by a male team, but sometimes he found that his women officers looked at things from a different angle, which had many times been fruitful, and Masters had a good eye for detail. Maybe it would bring up something new.

  Jokers Wild was a small select club in the City of London, with a license for gambling. It catered for those who took the game of cards seriously. They held bridge tournaments regularly, and there was a hard school of poker with big pots changing hands. It also had blackjack tables. The clientele were from every walk of life – from the aristocracy, the racing world and the wealthy, with more money and time on their hands than most … to some members of the underworld.

  Although Foxy Gordon was against any form of gambling for his fighters, he himself loved to play poker, but he always made sure he played with the amount of money he could afford to lose. He would never fall into the trap of getting into debt for the turn of a card. He was far too smart an operator for that. It was his one relaxation and he had said he was playing poker at Joker’s Wild on the night of Wally Cole’s death.

  Jill Masters was a very bright WPC with an ambition to be a detective, which was a very male orientated part of the police force. But she hoped that in time she would be accepted in this particular branch of the force. Detective Inspector Phillips had recognized her abilities, and whenever he could he helped her to establish herself. And now she was off with the others, to the Jokers Wild club.

  It was about two o’clock when they arrived. Sergeant Beckett flashed his warrant card and told the manager he wanted to question the staff
again.

  This was not met with any great enthusiasm. ‘You’ll upset the clientele if they see my staff being grilled by the police.’

  Becket looked coldly at him. ‘Then I suggest we use your office, so no one will be aware of us doing our job! Just send the staff in one by one. Starting now!’

  Jill Masters left the sergeant to do his work and wandered around the club, familiarizing herself with the layout. There was the main room, with a bar, a couple of roulette tables, two tables for blackjack, and another room where poker was played. At the entrance was a cloakroom for coats and a young pretty girl in attendance. The young police woman spoke to her. ‘Have you been working in the club long?’

  The young blonde smiled. ‘Almost a year now.’

  ‘Do you work the same hours every day?’

  ‘No, we work shifts. It’s better, really – less boring. The evenings are busier, of course, especially at the weekends.’

  ‘Were you on duty the night of July the fourteenth?’

  ‘I was. I remember it well as it was my birthday and I had wanted to change shifts so I could go out with my boyfriend, but the boss wouldn’t let me. Miserable devil!’ She grinned and leaned forward and said softly, ‘I got my own way eventually though.’

  Intrigued, Jill asked, ‘Really, how did you do that?’

  ‘About eight o’clock I pretended to be sick. I rushed off to the ladies and pretended to throw up. I rubbed all the rouge off my cheeks so I’d look pale and I told him I was ill. He had to let me go.’ She gave a triumphant look. ‘My boyfriend took me out to dinner.’

  ‘Do you know Mr Foxy Gordon?’ Jill asked.

  ‘Yes, he’s a regular here, loves his game of poker, never plays anything else.’

  ‘Do you remember if he was here that night?’

  ‘Yes, he was. I remember because he went into the gents just as I dashed into the ladies. As I came out I saw him leaving by the back door.’

  Masters was immediately alert. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive! I was surprised because he seldom leaves the table. I know, because I have to serve the players drinks. I’ve often wondered how he managed to hold his water, if you must know.’ The girl giggled. ‘Mind you, he seldom has more than a beer. He once told me that drink fogs the mind and he wants a clear head when he plays.’

  ‘Did he come back?’

  The girl shrugged. ‘I don’t know because I was sent home.’

  ‘Did you see him outside when you left?’

  ‘Not really. I did see his car being driven away. As I left it was halfway up the road.’

  ‘You’re sure it was his?’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s bright red, you can’t miss it.’

  ‘You’ve been most helpful. Would you come into the station tomorrow and make a statement so I can write down everything you just told me?’

  The girl looked worried. ‘Will my boss find out I put one over on him? Only, I don’t want to lose my job.’

  ‘No, he needn’t find out, trust me. But tell me, were you questioned about this before by the police?’

  ‘I was off duty. I know because the other girl told me she’d been questioned when I came in for my shift. But I wasn’t seen by any policeman.’

  Jill Masters made her way to the office to tell the sergeant what she had gleaned from her conversation.

  ‘Well done, but how did we miss this during our previous investigation?’

  She explained how the girl had been missed. The sergeant swore beneath his breath.

  Whilst this investigation was taking place, Bonny Burton was recovering from yet another operation. Nigel Matthews was pleased with the result, despite the intricacies of the surgery. Fortunately he was a gifted surgeon, who specialized in knee surgery. Now Bonny was wearing a heavy bandage, walking with crutches, and Nigel Matthews told her not to put any weight on her knee until further notice. In time she would have to see the physiotherapist for treatment and exercise.

  Once she was released from hospital, she decided to go home to her parents for a rest. Mickey was busy training and unable to spend much time with her. It was his suggestion that she go home, as he was worried about her being alone, but he did take time out from his training to escort her home on the train.

  At the station he helped her into a taxi and they headed for Bonny’s parents’ house.

  Millie, her mother, fussed around the two of them, ushering her daughter to an easy chair. She kissed Mickey on the cheek and put the kettle on for a cup of tea. They all chatted for a while until Mickey had to leave.

  ‘I’ll try and come down at the weekend, darlin’,’ he said as he kissed Bonny goodbye. ‘Now, for God’s sake, be careful! Don’t do anything foolish.’

  She assured him she would be careful.

  Her mother returned from seeing the boxer off the premises and sat beside Bonny. ‘How are you, love?’

  Bonny shrugged. ‘I’m fine, Mum, but goodness knows what I’m going to do when I’m better. I can’t dance any more – and that was my life!’

  ‘Then you find something else. After all, Bonny, you’re engaged to a lovely man, and when you get married you’ll have plenty to do, looking after him.’

  Bonny didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re right, but for me that isn’t enough. I need more. I need an outside interest. I can’t stagnate by being just a housewife.’

  Her mother bristled at this remark. ‘Well, I don’t feel I’ve stagnated looking after you and your father!’

  ‘And you haven’t, but that was your choice. It was enough for you – it isn’t for me.’

  ‘Then you are going to find the going tough, my girl.’ She went into the kitchen to prepare lunch for the two of them, unable to find any words of comfort for her daughter, but she was concerned for her future and how Bonny was going to manage, being away from the theatre and her usual way of life.

  Bonny got to her feet and hobbled over to the window. She wished she could lift this lost feeling. Her world would never be the same again, and without the capability to dance she didn’t know how she was going to cope. She hadn’t meant to upset her mother, but she was young, with her whole life in front of her, and she needed to be fulfilled! Being married to Mickey would be wonderful, but she needed more. Was she being selfish, she wondered. But no, she knew that to survive, she needed to find some kind of outlet or she couldn’t function.

  The following morning she made her way to the Palace Theatre where her career had begun to have a word with Sammy Kendrick, her old boss.

  Sammy looked up at the sound of a tap on his door and was more than a little surprised when he saw his visitor. ‘Bonny, my dear! Come in, do. Take a seat. How are you? I heard about your accident, I was sorry, what bad luck!’ He gazed at her crutch and added, ‘I had no idea you were still incapacitated. I thought you were helping Rob, training the chorus.’

  ‘I was, then I twisted my knee and had to have another operation. My dancing days are over, I’m afraid.’

  He was sympathetic. ‘That’s really tough, I am so sorry. Have you any plans?’

  She shook her head. ‘At one time I thought I might run a dancing school, but then Rob persuaded me to help him. Now even that idea has gone by the book.’

  He looked thoughtful. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Well, I can’t teach, can I?’

  ‘Perhaps not, but you could hire teachers and manage them. They could show the pupils what they want as far as the actual steps, but you could lay out the programme and oversee it.’

  ‘Do you think it would work?’

  ‘Why not? Good God girl, you’ve been through the training yourself, you know what’s required, you just need to find the right teachers. Come on, Bonny! You’re the most dedicated dancer I’ve ever had in my chorus. Of course you can do it!’

  ‘Oh, Sammy! I’m so glad I came to see you; I was beside myself with worry. I knew there had to be an answer somewhere. I never ever considered using other teachers, how stupid of me!’

/>   ‘Do you have the necessary funds for this?’

  She smiled. ‘Oh yes. I was paid well and I saved my money for a rainy day … Mind you, I didn’t expect it to bloody well pour!’

  ‘That’s more like the girl I knew. If I can be of any help, anything at all, you just give me a call.’ He helped her to her feet.

  Bonny gave him a hug. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

  She walked down to the Above Bar, towards the Bargate, a medieval building in the town centre, and into the High Street, feeling that at last she had a purpose and the future was bright. She couldn’t wait to tell Mickey of her plans.

  Thirty-Two

  When Mickey came to visit her at the weekend, as promised, he found Bonny in a good mood, and when she told him about her visit to Sammy Kendrick, and his suggestion, the boxer was delighted. ‘That’s great news! Of course you can do it. But you need to find premises first of all, then you can advertise for instructors. You need to think of a name and have cards and letterheads printed. When my fight is over I’ll be free to help you.’ He hugged her. ‘Oh, princess, I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I know how much this will mean to you.’

  She gazed fondly at him. ‘You understand me so well! How fortunate is that?’

  He chuckled. ‘Well, darlin’, I know I’m the love of your life, but so is dancing. I’m not too sure which comes first, to be honest!’

  She grinned broadly at him. ‘It does a man good to be uncertain so I’ll not tell you!’

  ‘You cheeky madam! This calls for a celebration, so let’s go out for a meal and we can talk about it further.’

  Bonny was so excited about her plans; she decided to return to her London flat with Mickey to enable her to start her search for premises, whilst he continued with his training. His fight was scheduled for two weeks hence. It was to be against his hardest opponent yet and he knew he would have to be at the top of his game to win, and Bonny wanted to be there to cheer him on.