Songbird. Josephine Cox

their life together seemed to ebb away.

      ‘Pull yourself together, my girl,’ she reprimanded herself sternly. ‘You can’t turn back now – not when you’ve come this far.’

      As always, the pull of her feelings for Steve proved to be stronger than her fears, and as she swung round to enter the building, a mischievous smile lit her eyes. ‘I’ll sneak in the back way,’ she murmured, ‘have a quick check of my makeup, and then I’ll let him know I’m here.’ The idea of taking him by surprise was thrilling.

      Hurrying down the alleyway, she hoped the back door was not locked.

      Good. The door pushed open at the touch of her hand. Excited and hopeful, she slipped into the building and made her way through the corridors which led directly to her dressing-room.

      As she neared it, she heard a door slam, and then footsteps hurrying away. Not wanting to be seen, she pressed herself into the doorway of the store-room, emerging only when the footsteps had died away.

      With the coast clear, she hurried on, agitating over who those footsteps might have belonged to. She knew it wasn’t Alice, because that dear woman’s light steps were as familiar to her as her own. She was equally certain it wasn’t the man who looked after the stage-lighting because he had a distinctive limp. Nor could they have belonged to Raymond, whose lumbering tread rocked the building. And as far as she was aware, the barmen hardly ever came back here.

      Of course, it could have been someone looking for the loos and taking a wrong turn. Yes, that must be it! Someone had taken a wrong turn and got lost.

      Nonetheless, for some strange reason, Maddy was filled with a sense of foreboding.

      ‘You’re beginning to imagine things,’ she told herself, and gave a harsh little laugh. ‘It’s Alice’s fault, for putting the fear of God into you.’

      Having reached the dressing-room, she went quickly inside, instantly taken aback by the odour of a heady perfume, quite different from her own. ‘Raymond’s been at it with a new cleaning wax, she thought. He’s always trying some new product or another.

      She glanced about. There were no signs of the struggle from last night, she observed wrily. All had been neatly swept aside … like herself!

      Going straightway to the new mirror that had been secured to the wall, she stared at herself, feeling like a kid on her first date.

      He won’t be able to resist me, she beamed. Then, reaching for her lipliner, she was amazed to see that her own hairbrush and cosmetics were gone, and in their place was an expensive range of powders and lipsticks, together with a beautiful silver-backed hairbrush.

      While her mind was reeling with the shock, she heard the musicians strike up and then the sweet uplifted voice of a woman in song. It was a voice she had not heard before, and it was really good.

      At first she would not let herself believe the obvious, but when she was made to accept the truth, her hopes of a reunion with Steve were cruelly dashed. He’s found another singer to take my place, she thought, and her heart lurched. It seemed that Alice was right, after all. Steve really did want to get rid of her. She had let herself believe that her love was strong enough to bring him round to the idea of family and commitment. But now, she realised that it was never meant to be.

      Not only had he beaten and humiliated her by throwing her out onto the streets, but hardly was her back turned than he had brought in another singer to take her place.

      That was the final turning-point.

      If there had been the slightest hope that he might come round to wanting her and the baby, that hope was gone; she had no illusions now. It was over. Steve Drayton had wiped her out of his life, as though she never existed.

      Slumped in the chair, she let the emotions flow, and when sorrow flared to anger, she picked up the silver-backed hairbrush. For what seemed an age she examined the beauty of it; with the fine, curved handle, it was a magnificent thing.

      The sight of a few delicate strands of blonde hair caught in the bristles was like salt in the wound. He gave her this, Maddy thought – and no doubt he told her the same wicked lies he told me. It wasn’t all that long ago since he gave me a hairbrush not too different from the one I am holding. The man is a liar and a cheat. No good to anyone.

      Gripping the hairbrush so hard it hurt, with one vicious swipe Maddy sent the entire collection of cosmetics crashing to the floor. She glanced at the wreckage and thought how like her own life it was.

      Taking a moment to compose herself, she reached into the bottom drawer, took out a box of her own make-up, and dabbed a shower of cream-powder over her cheekbones. She then tidied her crumpled dress, and fluffed her thick, dark hair. ‘You don’t need him.’ She spoke to her reflection in the mirror. ‘But you can’t let him get away with it so easily. Don’t let him think he’s broken you.’

      Striding from the dressing-room, she made her way to the top of the stairs; from here she could view both the stage and the bar area.

      She saw him straightaway. Leaning against the bottom of the stage, he was looking up at the singer. Long-limbed and youthful, her slim figure draped in darkest silk, she made a striking image.

      From below, his eyes ogling her every move, Steve Drayton was like a dog drooling over a juicy steak. With every wink and ‘come-on’ gesture, he was not ashamed to let her know he wanted her … in the same way he had once wanted Maddy.

      When all of a sudden he straightened up and turned towards the stairs, Maddy fled to the safety of the alcove, where she remained until he walked by, blissfully unaware of her presence.

      She knew exactly what he had in mind, because of the countless times he used to give her the ‘come-on’ from the foot of that very stage – and hadn’t she always answered his call by making straight for his office after finishing her set? The minute she was in the door he would draw the blinds and they would make love.

      She recalled these times with a surge of pleasure, because she had believed in him, believed every lie he uttered. But now, after learning the truth, these times would be shut out of her mind forever. They meant nothing to her now, just as they had meant nothing to him then.

      As she made her way to his office, the rage she had felt dissipated, meeting under a rush of fear. What would he do when he saw her? How would he try and explain himself away? Or would he throw her out as before … treating her with the contempt she now knew he felt for her?

      As she approached the office door, her fears deepened and for a moment she hesitated. She could see him closing the blinds in anticipation of his new woman’s arrival. She heard the telephone and watched as he answered it, and all the time he remained unaware that she was just outside.

      He seemed agitated by the conversation. Pacing up and down beside the desk, he was threatening the person at the other end of the line. ‘You heard what I said, and let that be an end to it. Now, I suggest you make other arrangements. In fact, from where I’m standing, you don’t have any alternative!’ With that he slammed the phone back into its cradle, at the same time thumping his other fist against the desk. ‘Bastards! If they think they can get the better of me, they’d best think again!’

      It was then she made her move. As she flung the door wide open, he glanced up, astonished to see her there. ‘What the devil do you want?’ Crudely staring her up and down, he laughed out loud. ‘All glammed up and nowhere to go, eh?’

      Closing the door behind her, she boldly approached him, determination etched in the set of her features. ‘I want to know why you took on another singer.’

      ‘Because I’m done with you, isn’t that reason enough?’ His spite was cutting. ‘I needed a new face, a younger woman who would know better than to come crying to me, after she’s been knocked up by some other bloke who’s cleared off and left her in the lurch.’

      ‘I was never with any other bloke, and you know it.’ It was time to speak her mind and to hell with it. ‘It’s your child,