Songbird

When the emotion threatened to overwhelm him, he took a moment to compose himself before going on. ‘After my teacher came round to see him, Dad worried they might send social services to check up on us. So, eventually he found a married couple to come and stay. Joan and Tom were lovely – they were a great help to Dad on the farm, and Joan used to make me all my favourite puddings. I was so upset when they went to live at the seaside. Dad was, too.’

An enormous grin suddenly spread over his face. ‘After that, we had Sheelagh. I’ll never forget her, Betsy. She made our house really happy again … But I’ll tell you all about her some other time. Still miss her, all these years later, you know. She was like a second mother, for the short time she was with us. As for Dad, looking back, I think he fell in love with her, only to be left alone again.’

Restless, Robin got up. ‘For a while when Sheelagh left us, he seemed hellbent on destroying himself again. He turned his back on his business … leaving things to his accountant. It was another really bad period for us – one minute up, the next down. The turning-point came when two of Dad’s best vets left the practice and he had to close down one of his clinics. Then he discovered that his accountant had been stealing huge amounts of money from him. He finally came to his senses, got himself together and picked up the reins. He built on what he had, and now he has those four clinics within a twenty-mile radius. Somehow I got through school without making too much of a mess at it, thanks to Dave, whose mum was a friend of our family.’

Like the others, apart from Dave, Betsy had known nothing of Robin’s background. Now she asked: ‘Do you think you’ll ever meet up with Sheelagh again one day?’

Robin shook his head. ‘Dad did try to find her, but nothing came of it. He stopped looking … said she deserved to have her own life back, if that was why she had gone missing.

‘And has your Dad come to terms with losing your mother and … everything?’

‘He still lives on his own and works far too hard. I’m his only child, and that’s why he was so disappointed when I wouldn’t join him in the family business.’

‘He sounds like a determined bloke.’

‘He is. But so am I, and he won’t change my mind.’ Robin grinned down at her.

‘Do you look like your dad?’ she asked.

‘Hmm … not much. I’ve been told I take after my grandad on my mother’s side.’

‘So, what did he look like?’

Smiling broadly, Rob gave Betsy a little playful shove. ‘Oh, you know – handsome, well-built, and with this animal magnetism that women couldn’t resist …’ They were still chuckling 0a, arm-in-arm, they arrived at the phone box.

Robin asked if she wanted to come inside with him, out of the cold.

Betsy graciously refused. ‘I don’t want to eavesdrop on your conversation,’ she said, stepping back. ‘I’ll wait out here.’

As it was, she couldn’t help but pick up some of the conversation, because the evening was unusually clear, and Robin’s voice could be easily heard.

‘Yes, Dad, everything’s fine. Yes, I would tell you if it wasn’t. No, I don’t need any money – I already told you, I’m getting my accommodation and meals free at the hospital.’

There followed a short pause during which Robin turned and rolled his eyes at Betsy through the glass. ‘No, I haven’t reconsidered,’ she heard him say patiently ‘… and I wish you’d stop asking me, because it only causes friction.’

Another pause. ‘I’m in the booth at the bottom of North Park Street. No, I’m not on my own. My friend Betsy’s waiting outside.’ Another slight pause before he chuckled and said, ‘I don’t think she’d appreciate you saying that.’

The conversation was ended with Robin assuring his father, ‘You know I will. I’ve said before many times, I don’t mind helping out with the animals when I’m home. I just don’t want to do it for a living.’ He nodded. ‘Okay, Dad. Take care of yourself. Talk again soon.’

When he emerged from the booth, Betsy asked him, ‘What did you mean when you said I wouldn’t appreciate that?’

The boy grinned. ‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Tell me!’

‘Well, for some reason, he thinks you’re my girlfriend.’

‘I see. And that worries you, does it?’

Concerned that she might have been offended, Robin changed the subject. ‘He should not assume things. He has a way of doing that – like thinking I would naturally follow him into veterinary medicine, without ever actually talking to me about it.’

‘I suppose he just wants what’s best for you.’ Disappointed that he had chosen to shift the conversation on to a less personal level, Betsy nevertheless played along. But all the time she wanted to shout out, ‘I’d love to be your girlfriend! The first day I met you, I knew I wanted to be part of your life!’

But she made no mention of her feelings, and neither did Robin. Instead, they walked on together, chatting of other things. There was to be a student fashion show soon, and one of the models would be wearing a dress designed by Betsy herself.

‘I can see you being one of the best designers in the country,’ Robin told her proudly.

‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ Betsy was not one to brag. But in truth, she had already set her heart on establishing her own label one day.

They were almost home, when Betsy whispered, ‘She’s there again … look.’

Against the soft background lighting of the next-door front bedroom was the silhouette of a woman.

‘Sometimes I want to knock on her door and make friends with her,’ Betsy told Robin. ‘She must be so lonely.’

The boy looked down on this lovely young woman beside him, and his heart was warmed. ‘You know your trouble?’ he said tenderly.

She looked up. ‘No. But I’m sure you’ll tell me.’

He took a moment to regard her, that small uplifted face and those appealing dark eyes, and he felt the urge to kiss her right there and then. Not wishing to frighten her away, he answered, ‘You’re far too nice for your own good.’

He desperately wanted to tell her how he felt, but some instinct held him back. Besides, if she’d wanted to be his woman, she had had her chance to say something back there when he told her what his dad had said, about her being his girlfriend. Anyway, a girl like Betsy, talented and pretty with an exciting future before her – why would she be interested in a humble young doctor like him? Though there was a fleeting moment when he was tempted to convey his true feelings. Twice he opened his mouth to speak, and twice he could not bring himself to say anything.

So, the moment passed, and with it his opportunity to tell her how he felt.

As they went up the steps and into the house, Betsy never knew how close he had come to sharing this last secret with her. From the relative safety of her hiding place, the woman watched them disappear into the house. ‘So young,’ she sighed. ‘Such a lovely couple.’ She drew away. ‘My life is over now, but they’ve got all their lives in front of them. Don’t be like me … so much heartache,’ she muttered brokenly. ‘Don’t waste your chances of happiness.’

Turning from the window, she drew the curtains together and ambled across the room to the sideboard. In the light from the small lamp, she opened the drawer and took out a bundle of papers tied with string.

Taking them with her to the chair, she sat down and for a moment made no move to open the bundle. Instead she laid herself back in the chair, and allowed the anger to envelop her. ‘I stood up to him once,’ she murmured proudly, ‘Oh, but he was such an evil man … an evil, evil man!’

Taking a moment to compose herself, she then untied the string and laid it carefully across her lap, then the same with the bulk of the parcel. Rummaging through the photographs, she found the one she was looking for. It was a photograph of herself many years ago. She gazed down on it with fondness. ‘That was me!’ she whispered incredulously. ‘I may be haggard and worn now, but there was a time when I could hold my head high.’

Clothed in a clinging dress that drew in at the waist and fell naturally over her young figure, and with her long dark hair caught in a black bandana about her head, she looked amazing. ‘I remember that dress as it was yesterday,’ she chuckled joyfully. ‘Purest ivory it was, with a sweetheart neckline, and a teasing split at the hem …’ She laughed out loud. ‘Cost me a week’s wages it did!’

Her mood sobered. ‘That was the night it all started to go wrong,’ she whispered, laying the photograph on her lap.

Having taken a few minutes to reminisce, she glanced again at the photograph and a whimsical expression crept over her features. ‘Was that really me,’ she asked wonderingly, ‘with a figure like that … up there on the stage with everyone looking at me, listening to me sing …’ She tried to recall the feelings, but like so much of her past, they were pushed to the depths of her mind.

She looked again at herself as a young woman with the world at her feet, and a sense of desolation took hold of her. ‘Come on now!’ she reprimanded herself. ‘It won’t hurt to remember the way it was … the laughter, the songs. You did nothing wrong, you have to remember that.’

Shyly glancing down to study the photograph once more, she gave a hearty laugh. ‘What a dress! And look at the black patent-leather high heels, oh, and the silk-stockings. It’s all coming back … and how it riled him, when the men couldn’t take their eyes off me.’ She groaned. ‘Hmh! If they could see me now, they wouldn’t even help me across the road, and who could blame them, eh?’

Standing the photograph on the mantelpiece, she began gently swirling and dancing around, losing herself in the joy of yesteryear. In her head she could hear the soft music of her favourite song, ‘I Believe’. Twirling and swaying, she began to sing …

One of her all time favourite songs was ‘I Believe’. As she sang it how her heart was filled with joy as the poignant words took her back over the years …

All alone now, with no audience and no wickedness waiting for her, she danced in the twilight, lost herself in the song, and for a while she felt incredibly free. It was easy to imagine herself back there, in the night club, with the people looking up, their hearts and minds tuned into the song and the music.

But always in the wings or leaning on the bar … he was there watching … waiting.

She could see him now, dark and menacing in her mind’s eye. It was a bad feeling.

PART TWO

London, 1978

In the Beginning

CHAPTER THREE

HE HAD ALWAYS been confident that Madeleine would return to him. But on this particular night, he had no inkling that she was about to make a surprise entrance.

Alice Mulligan knew though, and she had done everything in her power to dissuade the girl from coming back to a man who had proved time and time again that he could make her life a misery. But her young friend was utterly besotted with their boss.

Steve Drayton had never accepted any of the blame for the couple’s rows. And this time, as usual, he believed himself to be the injured party.

Turning to Alice, the manageress of his club, the Pink Lady Cabaret Bar off Soho Square, he murmured, ‘If I find out she’s left me for another bloke, I swear to God … she’ll live to regret it.’ He stared at the little Irishwoman suspiciously. ‘You know something about this, don’t you? Thick as thieves, you two are. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you’d known where she was all along. All right – out with it! Where is she? Is she with another man? Is that why you’re afraid to tell me?’

When Alice chose not to answer, but merely carried on removing notes from the cash register to transfer to the office safe, he grabbed her by the shoulders and almost lifted her off her feet. ‘Answer me, woman!’ he hissed. ‘Where is she?’

‘Well now, you’d best ask her that yourself, hadn’t you? You being the big boss-man an’ all.’ Small in stature but big in courage, Alice had been around the block a few times and was not one to be intimidated by the likes of Steve Drayton.

‘Don’t you get clever with me,’ he growled. ‘No one’s indispensable, lady!’

With a flick of her head, Alice gestured to the door. ‘Like I said, she’s here now, so you can ask her yourself, can’t you?’

The open street-door sent a rush of cool air through the smoke-filled haze of the nightclub. Curious, he glanced up, and there she was: the Songbird, star of the show – his woman.

Though secretly relieved to see her, Steve was inwardly seething with anger, vowing that he would make the bitch pay for humiliating him. But he was cunning enough not to show his feelings here, in front of all these adoring people. Madeleine was a valuable asset, the reason why his club had flourished. In the early days, when he had let his gambling habits get the better of him, her charismatic appeal and popularity as a singer had brought him back from the brink of financial ruin. He still owed money to some undesirable types, but was reluctant to settle his debts. Steve Drayton never liked to pay what he owed. Arrogant and selfish, he played on his sexual appeal to get what he wanted – from women – and sometimes from men, too.

In the three weeks or so since Maddy had gone on the trot, his takings had dipped to an uncomfortable level. Deeply concerned, Steve had searched high and low, had even put the word out on the streets, but to no avail. The girl had simply disappeared.

Meanwhile, Steve had recruited other entertainers but they were no substitute for Madeleine. She had a certain special something – the punters came back to hear her time and again. ‘Songbird’ was what all the regulars called her. Or, ‘our own Pink Lady’ when she wore one of her glamorous pink stage dresses. Her accompanying musicians, pianist and bass-player Dave and Dino, were very grumpy without her. In desperation, with clients and money rapidly dwindling, Steve had been forced to sack the odd cleaner and even one of his two chefs but that was merely throwing out ballast to keep the ship afloat.

The truth was, only the loyal and the believers had continued to frequent his bar, in the hope that she would be back.

Well, here she was, and now the atmosphere was charged with excitement. But for all that, he was determined to teach her a lesson.

Shoving Alice aside, he gave a cynical smile. ‘Here she comes, strolling in as though she hasn’t a care in the world.’

For what seemed an age, Madeleine paused to glance across the club, her dark eyes seeking him out. And then she was moving towards him, and despite himself, he felt his pulse quicken.

In that darkened room with the soft music playing in the background, all eyes were turned on the woman.

Of petite build and with a certain quiet beauty, she wended her way between the clients, acknowledging their greetings with a ready smile and a friendly word and, much to the annoyance of the man who laid claim to her affections, occasionally accepting a kiss on the cheek.

Steve Drayton’s hungry eyes followed her every step of the way. In spite of his violent temper and his liking for anything in a skirt, the sight of Madeleine could still thrill him like no other. With her mass of rich chestnut hair tumbling to her shoulders, and that lazy, swaying walk which had first attracted him to her, she could turn any man’s head.

She was uniquely talented, yet even now, when she could see how much they thought of her, Madeleine did not seem to realise just how good she was. In truth, she possessed a kind of childish innocence that shone from within. Up there on the stage, when the music filled the room and her voice cut to their hearts, she was magnificent. When the music had died down and her voice was still, she became shy and hesitant, almost naïve in her trust of others. She had fallen under Steve’s spell after auditioning for the club two years ago. Between boyfriends, and feeling lonely, she had found herself in her new employer’s bed by that first nightfall.

Now, as she stopped to chat with a regular, Steve stared at her and felt the familiar arousal, though it still rankled, the fact that she had walked out on him – without even a phone call to let him know what was going on. No woman had ever done that to him before.

He turned to Alice. ‘I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay away for long. Didn’t I tell you she’d be back?’

‘Mebbe so, but she’s a damned fool, so she is!’ As Irish as the Blarney Stone and wick as a leprechaun, Alice Mulligan was herself a force to be reckoned with. ‘It’s a mystery to me how she ever puts up with you.’

‘Women are no mystery to me,’ Steve boasted. ‘I’ve always been able to twist ’em round my little finger.’

‘You’re too clever for your own good, that’s your problem, mister.’ Being a woman of some fifty years, Alice had lovely skin and a slim figure that looked good in her smart business suit. Her blue eyes were alive with vitality. ‘When you said she’d be back, I hoped you might be wrong,’ she sighed. ‘But here she is, an’ may God and all His Saints help her.’

In truth, Alice was not at all surprised to see the younger woman here tonight, because it was not the first time today that Maddy had walked through these doors, though Steve Drayton didn’t know that.

‘She must have lost her mind, to make her way back here,’ Alice said, closing the till and putting a rubber band round the notes. Earlier on, she had said the very same thing to Maddy. ‘It just goes to show what bloody fools we women can be!’ she added cynically. If only Maddy could see through this bully.

‘My girl is nobody’s fool,’ Steve argued. ‘She knows which side her bread is buttered, and come to think of it, so do you. But I can see it’s put your nose right out of joint, now she’s done the sensible thing and come home to me.’ His mood darkened. ‘The truth is, you never thought I was good enough for her.

Undeterred, Alice ignored his last remark and looked him in the eye. ‘That’s because you’re not good enough for her! And ye never will be.’

Steve helped himself to a large Scotch from the bar, and added a handful of ice. ‘I don’t give a sod what you think.’ He glanced over at Maddy. ‘She thinks differently, and that’s enough for me.’ He preened himself. ‘Besides, she won’t get better than me, however hard she tries.’ … Steve didn’t believe in God, but he did believe in ‘An eye for an eye’. Two could play at that game of ‘now you see me, now you don’t’.

‘Well, all I can say is, she must be a divil for punishment. Gawd! When I think of the way you treat her …’ Alice tossed her head.

‘She can’t do without me,’ he declared smugly. ‘In fact, I haven’t yet decided whether I’ll have her back or not.’

‘Oh, but you will, me boyo.’ Alice had no doubts about that.

‘Really, and why is that then, eh?’

‘Because without her, the punters would soon stop coming and you’d be broken like a twig underfoot. Besides, one time when you were drunk out of your skull, you actually spoke a few home truths, so ye did.’

‘Is that so? And what might they have been, then?’

‘You said she was a feather in your cap, for all the other men to envy.’ Alice had no liking for this self-centred man. ‘Deep down you don’t love her at all,’ she scoffed. ‘That poor girl is just another acquisition for you to show off.’

‘Hmh!’ Swigging down his Scotch, Steve pressed his glass against the optic for another shot. He searched Madeleine out, to smile lovingly on her. ‘Since she walked out on me …’ his voice grew softer ‘I … might tell you, I’ve really missed her.’ It was the truth. The man sometimes wondered if he had foolishly fallen in love with Maddy; it scared him, brought out the violence in him.

‘Missed the money she brings in, more like!’ Alice snapped, completely unsympathetic. ‘Deep down, yer a bad bugger, only she can’t see it. You don’t deserve a woman like that, kind and giving; the loveliest thing who ever walked onto a stage. There’s not a man in the crowd who wouldn’t give his right arm for a woman of her calibre.’

Alice threw Steve a contemptuous glance. ‘And then there’s you – a bully and a womaniser – treating her like the dirt under your feet.’ She was angry with Madeleine for coming back, and proving him right. She had no liking for this man who provided her wages; though she earned every penny twice over.

Since the nightclub had opened eight years ago, Alice had worked tirelessly, shown her true worth and earned her boss’s trust. As a result, her wages had increased in line with her responsibilities.

To her credit, Alice had fought her way up from the bottom; in turn she had cleaned the toilets, scrubbed the floors, worked as a cloakroom attendant and then behind the bar, had also served at tables and run errands. Eventually she had risen from taking money as the clients arrived, to being entrusted to bank the takings. And now she was a fully-fledged manageress.

From the start, she was honest, reliable and knew how to keep her mouth shut when necessary, as long as there was nothing criminal or harmful involved. Though when she heard how a certain client had been beaten so badly he ended up in hospital, that was a turning-point in her loyalty. From that moment she kept herself to herself and never showed interest in any of Steve’s shadier activities.

While Steve Drayton valued and respected her, she could never respect him; he reminded her too much of her own cheating husband, Eamon. It was five years now since she’d walked out on him, and good riddance to the man! Childless, she had taken young Maddy to her heart and loved the girl as her own blood. After seeing how badly Steve treated every woman who took a shine to him – and there were many – Alice had grown to dislike and distrust him; especially these past two years, since Madeleine caught his eye.

Steve might love her and he might not. Alice could not be sure. But it was a strange, destructive love, for he seemed determined to make the young woman’s life a misery.

Steve interrupted her reverie. ‘I do love her,’ he said, answering her unspoken question. ‘The trouble is, when I get drunk and senseless, I find myself agreeing with you, that she’s too good for me – and then I get insanely jealous. Like you said, any man would want her, and maybe even give her a better life than I do.’

He dropped his gaze to the floor. ‘The thought of losing her sends me wild,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Then I hit out and hurt her.’ He swished the ice cubes in his glass, and she could barely catch his last few words as he whispered, ‘I swear I don’t mean to.’

He watched as Madeleine lingered to chat with another one of the customers. There was no denying, she was a special woman, and Alice was right … he did not deserve her.

‘I’m not surprised she cleared off,’ he conceded regretfully. ‘The last time we had a set-to, she took a terrible beating – and all for something and nothing. A fella at the club put his arm round her as she walked out and as usual, I laid the blame on her.’ He shrugged. ‘Yeah, that’s what it was all right – something and nothing.’

He sighed self-indulgently and took another measure of whisky. ‘Mind you, we were busy making up till the early hours, and I can tell you here and now, your precious Maddy didn’t have no complaints about my performance that night!’

‘You’re an arrogant divil.’

‘Yes, so you keep saying.’

Straightening his shoulders beneath the beautiful cloth of his Jermyn Street suit, Steve drew himself up to his considerable height. ‘She always comes running back. It only goes to prove how bad she wants me.’ He flicked open a box of Dunhill cigarettes and lit one with a gold lighter. ‘Want one?’ He offered the box to Alice, who ignored it.

‘Why don’t you marry her?’ Alice was known to come straight to the point.

He laughed. ‘I never marry my women. Can’t trust a single one of ’em. My old mother taught me that, the poxy tart. God knows who my father was – she had more men than you’ve got spuds in Ireland, love. No, there’s no woman alive who’ll get me shackled to her.’

‘Have you told her that?’

‘I don’t have to, she already knows my opinion – that women are good for one thing only.’ Swinging round to face Alice, his mood suddenly darkened, as it so often did. ‘I think it’s time you got back to work,’ he hissed. ‘Before I get to thinking I might be better off with somebody who doesn’t ask so many questions! Bloody women, it’s nothing but yap, yap, yap.’

Despite her recent vanishing act, Steve was satisfied that he had his Maddy exactly where he wanted her; his little songbird on a string. And it didn’t matter what he did to her, because she always ended up singing along to his tune.

Still weaving a path through the dining-tables, Madeleine was stopped many times by clubbers who were delighted to see her back, from what they had been told was a well-deserved holiday away from the hustle and bustle of Soho.

With a sweet smile, she thanked them and moved on towards her tormentor; the man she could neither live with, nor without. She loved him, she hated him, and now as she glanced at him across the room, she wanted him as much as ever.

Not overly handsome, Steve Drayton was a big man. Fit and toned, with a quick mind and an instinct for making money, he had built the Pink Lady up from nothing. There was an aura of power about him that was very sexy, and a certain kind of look from his narrow hazel-coloured eyes that could turn Maddy’s blood to water. Sometimes he was so good to her; at other times, he became a devil.

Though apprehensive, she was glad to be back, to realise that he still wanted her. And yet there was always that niggling doubt that he might throw her aside; that he would find someone else, younger than her thirty years, and she would have no part in his life. In her heart she knew that might well be for the best, but she hoped it would never happen.

Now though, she had something to tell him. Something that might seal their future together, once and for all.

As she drew nearer, the doubts set in. He was such a volatile man, so unpredictable. How would he react? The moment she was standing before him, her courage began to waver.

‘So! Here you are at last, eh? Took you long enough to make your way back, didn’t it?’ he said smoothly, in the softest tone that made her shudder. ‘You needed to punish me, was that it?’ He traced her jawline with his finger and she felt hypnotised by his touch.

‘That’s not true, Steve, and you know it,’ she whispered.

‘So why don’t you tell me what the truth is, then.’ He stepped closer, his eyes boring into hers. ‘You’ve not been singing else-where, or I would have heard. So where have you been hiding? Got a bit on the side, is that it?’

‘Will ye leave her be!’ Sensing trouble, Alice quickly intervened. ‘Go easy on her, for heaven’s sakes,’ she urged in a low voice. ‘There’s a million an’ one eyes trained on the pair of youse.’

Steve’s display of temper had not gone unnoticed by the regulars, some of whom did not believe the holiday story. They had seen the way he acted with her, controlling and possessive. So who could blame them for hoping she might have escaped, found a new life, a new man, one who might cherish her the way she deserved.

Impatient, they called out to her now. ‘Come on Madeleine, we’ve missed you! Get up there and strut your stuff!’

The clapping rose to a deafening crescendo. ‘We want Songbird! We want Songbird!’

‘All right, all right!’ Laughing, she gestured towards the stage. ‘I’m on my way.’

As she turned from him, Steve caught her by the arm. ‘What do you mean?’ he demanded. ‘Surely you’re not thinking of performing tonight?’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’

‘Because you’ve only just walked in, dammit! We need to go somewhere quiet, somewhere we can … talk.’ Although he had other things on his mind than talk. ‘You’ll want to rehearse – decide the songs, organise the musicians. It all takes time.’ He gave a lazy smile. ‘Besides, we’ve already booked a comedian for tonight.’

‘He’s been cancelled,’ Alice interrupted.

‘Cancelled!’ Steve swung round to face her. ‘What the hell are you talking about, woman? Who cancelled him?’

‘I did. And if ye want to make something of it, I’m ready.’ The little woman had a look in her eye that Steve knew all too well. If it wasn’t for the fact that Alice ran the club in his absence, was totally trustworthy and knew how to keep her mouth shut about his business deals, he would have thrown her feet first out the door long ago.

Instead he issued a stark warning. ‘Be careful, lady. You don’t want to overstep the mark.’

There were many ways of being rid of people like Alice, and he knew them all.

Defusing the situation, Madeleine told him hastily, ‘It’s not Alice’s fault. It was me – I arranged it all. And now the boys are backstage, ready when I am.’ She smiled, pleased with herself. ‘You see, I haven’t just walked in,’ she admitted. ‘I was here this afternoon while you were at the races. Me, Dave and Dino rehearsed all afternoon.

‘You did what! And why the devil wasn’t I told?’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I asked them not to let on,’ she replied boldly. ‘We timed it for when you wouldn’t be here. I’m sorry, but, well … we all thought it would be a nice surprise for you.’ She peeped at him from her soft dark eyes. ‘But it’s all right, isn’t it, Steve?’ Most times she could wheedle her way round him, and thankfully this proved to be one of those times.

He studied her a moment, wanting to hit her, aching to love her. ‘You’re a witch!’ His desperation to have her was all he could think of. ‘Well, all right. But I won’t pretend I’m not rattled at being hoodwinked.’ The sound of hand-clapping and foot-stamping was deafening. ‘Your fans are getting restless. You’d best go.’ He took another moment to study those mesmerising dark eyes, then warned her, ‘Don’t think you’ve got the better of me. I can take you or break you.’ But his cutting remark was a lie, and they all knew it.