Alice threw Steve a contemptuous glance. “And then there’s you – a bully and a womanizer – 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 toward 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-colored 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 realize 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 hypnotized 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 elsewhere, 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 toward 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, organize the musicians. It all takes time.” He gave a lazy smile. “Besides, we’ve already booked a comedian for tonight.”