Songbird. Josephine Cox

eyes on you again. What would I want with you anyway? Like I said – you’ve had your day. It’s time to move over for someone more talented.’

      Maddy understood his thinking. By ‘talented’, he meant young and pliable.

      She stood her ground. ‘You can try every which way you like to get out of it, but in the end I promise, you’ll be made to face the consequences. You know as well as I do, I never loved anyone but you. And now, you want rid of me. All right, that’s your choice.’

      Looking him straight in the eye, she calmly warned him, ‘I also have a choice, so understand this: whatever happens between the two of us, I will not let our child grow up without knowing who their father is.’

      The smile slid from his face. ‘Are you threatening me?’

      Unflinching beneath his hostile gaze, she promised, ‘I’ll do whatever it takes, to give our child a name. I’ll make sure it’s common knowledge that you’re the father, and that through no fault of ours, you’ve washed your hands of us.’

      She smiled at the look of disbelief on his face. ‘You wouldn’t like that, would you, eh? The great Steve Drayton – no one ever got one over on him, did they? But I give you my word, I’ll fight tooth and nail, until you’re made to admit that you’re our baby’s father. I’ll make you take your responsibilities seriously, you see if I don’t!’

      No sooner had she finished issuing the warning than she felt the full force of his fist, and when her lip split open and the blood spattered over his hands, he was like a madman.

      ‘Bitch!’ Ripping at her new dress, he tore it from neck to waist, leaving her desperately clutching the remnants with both hands. ‘I’ve seen off more threats and danger than you could ever imagine. So don’t make the mistake of thinking you’ll come out on top, lady, because you won’t.’

      Holding her trapped with one hand, he fished into her evening bag, drew out the keys to the flat and thrust them into his pocket. ‘You won’t be needing these again.’

      When she struggled to get away, he held her there. ‘I swear to God, if you show your face here again, or try to get in touch with me, I’ll have you done away with. Make no mistake, I will do it!’ Taking her by the arm, he dragged her through the door and down the back stairway; halfway down, with one great heave, he sent her careering down the remaining steps.

      Then, coming down the steps two at a time, he went after

      her, grabbed her by the neck and threw her out onto the back alley, tossing her handbag after her. Wiping his hands together as though ridding himself of something dirty, he warned her, ‘If you bother me again, I won’t hesitate to have you and the kid set in concrete. Do you hear what I’m saying?’ When she didn’t answer, he raised his foot and kicked her in the groin. ‘DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID!’

      With her lip swelling, and her body bruised and battered, she could only nod, which thankfully was enough to appease him.

      And then he was gone; only at the top of the stairs did he momentarily turn, to look down on the fallen woman with contempt.

      Through tears of shame, Maddy watched him go, and for a moment she felt nothing, no hatred or desire for revenge; all the love she once felt for him was as though it had never been.

      After a while, she levered herself up and felt her way along the wall, managing to stumble a short distance. Just when she was beginning to believe she might make it to safety, the wall caved into a doorway; she fell inside, and for a moment she feared as though she might never be able to get up. Faintly, she could hear the sound of a Latin beat coming through the wall, as the club carried on with its usual Saturday-night party mood. But for Madeleine Delaney, the party was well and truly over.

      When she made an effort to stand, her legs crumpled beneath her. ‘Alice!’ Twice she sobbed out her friend’s name, before her senses began to fade.

      Yet somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, she drew strength from the knowledge that Alice was never far away.

      CHAPTER SIX

      THOUGH IT WAS only minutes, it seemed an age before she opened her eyes. She must have passed out, she thought. The cold was numbing; and even when she drew the fragments of her dress about her, she could not stop trembling.

      With determination, she took stock of the damage Steve had done to her. She had taken a hard beating, yet she was relieved to find she could move her arms and legs, and thankfully, she still had her wits about her.

      She slid the tips of her fingers over her face; it was bruised, and the cuts from yesterday had reopened, but as far as she could tell, nothing was broken.

      Her fears were for the child inside her. Was it harmed in any way? Had he hurt the baby when he had kicked her in the groin? How could she tell? She needed help … she had to get away from here.

      Thankfully, her legs took the weight when she uprighted herself. It was then that she heard a flurry of girlish giggling, and a voice asking, ‘Why are we out here? It’s so much cosier in your office, Stevie.’

      Steve Drayton’s low, thick voice was unmistakable. ‘Too many interruptions,’ he said huskily, ‘but you needn’t worry about the cold.’ There was a sexy chuckle. ‘I’ll keep you warm enough, I can promise you that.’

      There was a moment of silence, then another burst of giggling and the man’s voice urging her to, ‘Keep quiet, eh? We don’t want them coming out to see what’s going on, do we?’

      ‘Was it true, what you said earlier?’

      ‘You’d best remind me.’ His voice was soft and persuasive, and then there was the wet, smacking sound of a long kiss. ‘What was it I said?’

      ‘That you’d never seen anyone as beautiful as me, and that you would always look after me – even when I’m older and not so pretty.’

      ‘Hmh!’ His laughter echoed through the alley. ‘You really are a little worrier, aren’t you? Well, you can stop worrying, because I meant every word.’ Steve Drayton had enough experience to know that a little flattery and a few cleverly placed lies would melt any young fool like her.

      ‘And what about …’ the girl hesitated, ‘the singer before me – the one they called Songbird.’ She paused again. ‘Did you say all these things to her?’

      ‘Never!’ Maddy heard him light a cigarette, the soft glow from the lighter flickering through the darkness. ‘Why would I say those things to her? She meant nothing to me.’

      ‘I was told she was a wonderful singer.’

      ‘Were you now?’

      ‘Was she? A good singer, I mean?’

      ‘She may have had a passable voice, but she could never hold a candle to you. Besides, she was a slut – a cheap tramp who would go with anybody.’ Disgust trembled in his voice.

      ‘I’ve made you angry now, haven’t I?’

      He laughed – an angry sound, and then his voice thickened as he said, ‘You’d best make it up to me then, hadn’t you?’ Tossing his cigarette butt to the cobbles, he ground it out with the toe of his shoe.

      A long silence followed, during which Maddy eventually managed to manoeuvre herself into a position from where she could see them. And what she saw only deepened her shame, because hadn’t she been equally besotted with this vicious man, who had turned his back on her when she needed him most? She thanked her lucky stars that at long last, she could see the badness in him.

      Out there, in the darker shadows of the alleyway, Steve Drayton had the girl pressed against the wall, his trousers round his ankles as he pushed into her. The girl was wrapped round him, her skirt above her waist and her shrill voice emitting little gasps of pleasure.

      Maddy