Maggie Read online

  The electric fire barely took the edge off the chill in the room so, fully dressed and with her dressing gown on top of it all, Maggie had climbed into the bed and pulled the grubby eiderdown up around her neck. Her head and stomach still hurt from the alcohol so it wasn’t long before she dozed off.

  She awoke with a start to a loud knocking on the door.

  ‘Are you there, Maggie? I’ve come to take you out for something to eat. Bloody hell it’s cold out here, so open the door quick …’

  She jumped up, threw the door open and flung her arms around his neck. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too … but you’re here now, and so am I. Let’s go to the Italian place down the road. They know Dad well in there, and we can catch up. I’ve got lots to tell you; it’s all so exciting what’s happening.’

  ‘I need to get ready …’

  ‘OK. Downstairs in ten minutes; that long enough?’ He smiled, and Maggie remembered why she was there. They were going to have so much fun together in London.

  The small Italian restaurant was warm and inviting and the food so welcome that she had to force herself to eat slowly.

  When they got back, Maggie was a bit surprised; she had expected to be invited up to the penthouse, but instead Andy walked ahead of her to the door of her room and stood to one side while she unlocked it. Then he kissed her briefly and said goodnight. She didn’t say anything, she just opened her door and again jumped straight into the cold bed fully clothed.

  During their meal she’d tried to tell Andy about her own thoughts and reservations, but he hadn’t been listening. All he wanted to talk about was her inheritance and how his father thought she was being defrauded. It was strange and disappointing, even more so when he grandly told the waiter to charge the meal to his father’s account.

  That night she couldn’t sleep. She was cold through to her bones, despite having everything she could find piled on her bed. The room smelt of mildew, and she was terrified to turn the light off. It hadn’t seemed bad in daylight, but in the dark the building reminded her of something out of a horror movie, with creaking window frames and floorboards.

  It was a long weary night, and she looked forward to getting up and doing something. Anything rather than stay in that room.

  ‘Well, young lady, let’s see what you can do.’

  Maggie physically jumped, and her heart banged hard in her chest. She was in the middle of getting changed and was sitting on the edge of her bed putting clean stockings on when the door flew open. In a panic, she jumped up and snatched at her dressing gown and quickly pulled it around herself without even putting her arms in the sleeves.

  ‘I didn’t know I was doing anything today. I thought you said tomorrow …’ she said, backing away from Jack Blythe, who was standing just inside the door staring at her. He had a large tape recorder under his arm. ‘I’ll get dressed and meet you in the studio. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  ‘No need for the studio. We can do a bit of a sample down here, save you having to get dressed.’

  Maggie Wheaton was an intelligent girl, and suddenly all her senses were on alert, but she knew her budding career could be in danger if she didn’t handle the situation properly. She wanted to know why he had a key to her room, why he hadn’t knocked and, most importantly, why he wanted to make a recording in her room when there was a perfectly good studio upstairs. But she didn’t say so. ‘I have to get washed and dressed. I can’t sing like this; I’m too cold …’ She smiled as best she could as she slipped her dressing gown on properly and pulled the cord tight.

  Jack Blythe moved a step closer, and she saw him glance down at the small single bed pushed against the wall. ‘Of course you can. We can sit together to keep warm and go through the words. I know you know them, I’ve heard you sing them, but just to be sure we’ll do a quick run-through. I’ll do some recording, and then we can listen to the playback in peace.’

  As he spoke, his steely blue eyes never left her face, and against her will she could feel herself being drawn in; his charisma as he smiled at her momentarily overrode everything.

  Maggie smiled back nervously. ‘Alright, but I just have to go to the bathroom …’

  Slipping past him, she went out on to the landing and ran barefoot along the freezing linoleum to the shared bathroom. Shivering from the cold she leant against the closed door and breathed deeply as she tried hard to think. She didn’t want to upset the man who was promising her fame and fortune, and who had given her somewhere to live out of the goodness of his heart, but at the same time she was scared – both of his intentions and of her own reactions to them.

  She looked at herself in the grubby mirror that hung crooked over the washbasin. Her unbrushed, but still backcombed hair stood out at all angles, and she had black rings around her eyes from where she’d gone to bed with her mascara on. She looked a mess, but she had none of her washing stuff with her. She pulled her hair back from her face, forced it down flat with her hands and knotted it into a bunch at the nape of her neck and then, with a handkerchief she found in her pocket, she tried to rub the smudged mascara off. Just as she’d made herself look as respectable as she could, she heard footsteps outside the door.

  ‘Maggie?’ a voice shouted. ‘Maggie, are you in there? I’ve changed my mind. Get yourself done up and I’ll see you up in the studio in half an hour. Don’t be late.’

  Leaning her head back on the door she started to cry, a combination of relief and frustration. Jack Blythe had scared and confused her, but at the same time she’d felt a shameful frisson of excitement at the possibility that the handsome and successful older man had shown more than a little interest in her.

  Half an hour later, on the dot, Maggie went into the empty room and walked over to the microphone. She stood in front of it and tried to imagine herself singing to an audience – a large audience, if Andy was to be believed. She looked around and wondered where he was; she had expected him to be there to lend her some moral support.

  ‘Pleased you could make it.’

  She spun round to see Jack Blythe sauntering into the room with a girl on each arm.

  ‘Meet my girls, Angel and Marnie.’ He looked from one to the other and kissed them on the lips in turn. ‘You’re going to be singing with them down the club on Saturday night, so I want you all to get to know each other. Go for a coke or something over the road, kill a couple of hours while I see the next couple of young girlies who are snapping at your heels.’

  The two young women didn’t even glance at Maggie – both of them were gazing at Jack – but he was focused on Maggie, his words aimed at her.

  ‘The competition is red-hot at the moment so you need to be good, you need that something special, a sort of je ne sais quoi; you also have to do exactly as I say and keep the boss happy.’

  ‘OK, Mr Blythe,’ she answered cautiously, unsure what he was expecting her to say.

  ‘Call me Jack; now, off you go. We’ll have a bit of a rehearsal after lunch.’ He looked at Maggie and paused. ‘But, thinking about it, I want a word with you, Maggie, before you go. The girls can wait over the road for you.’

  Without a word, the two young women picked up their coats and walked out just as Andy walked in. She noticed a flash of puzzled irritation in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived.

  ‘Dad, I just wanted to—’

  ‘Get your arse back downstairs, son, and get those new applications sorted. You’re not wanted in here right now.’ Jack Blythe smiled at Andy, but his eyes were steely and his stance aggressive.

  ‘But …’ Andy stammered.

  ‘No buts. Go. Now.’

  As his face reddened and his shoulders drooped, Maggie could feel Andy’s shame as if it was her own. His adored father had shot him down in front of her without a thought for his feelings. She was mortified and also deeply ashamed of herself, because instead of speaking up in his defence, as the Maggie of old would have done, she simply watched as the young man t
urned and walked silently out of the door.

  ‘I want you to come through to my office. I’ve been thinking about a change of direction from what we discussed before,’ he said as Maggie walked alongside him across the room. ‘And also we have to discuss your inheritance and your thieving family. Eunice and I are thinking about applying for guardianship, so we need all the details of this solicitor who’s in on it. I know you’re not happy with how it is, and if I’m your agent and manager then it seems right.’

  Maggie was instantly alert at the words; she didn’t want to think it, but she suddenly wondered if she had made a huge mistake. If Jack Blythe was in charge of everything, she would be as beholden to him as she was to Ruby and Johnnie. But still she followed behind him like a puppy.

  Once she was inside the office, Jack Blythe pushed the door to and removed his jacket before carefully hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. As he turned towards her, he loosened his tie. ‘Ah, that’s better. Come on now, Maggie, get yourself comfortable as well. Take that silly cardigan off. It makes you look frumpy, like someone’s granny, not the sexy young woman you really are.’

  She stayed standing where she was. ‘I’ll keep it on. I’m cold; I got cold in my room downstairs, and I haven’t warmed up yet …’ was all she could think to say. At that moment she felt uncomfortable to the point of threatened, and she really wished Andy was there with her. Jack Blythe’s demeanour had changed; it was as if as he’d pushed the door to, he’d left his charm outside.

  ‘Come on, be a grown-up. I need to see what you really look like. You never know, I might even be able to get a bit of modelling work for you if you play your cards right. Your face is pretty enough, but I want to see your body.’

  ‘I can’t …’ she said, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘I’m not like that.’

  ‘Look, just sit on the sofa and relax. I don’t bite, you know.’ He paused and smiled. ‘Well, maybe just a little when I’m confronted by a pretty little thing like you. It’d take a stronger man than me to resist.’

  As she slowly perched on the very edge of the long sofa that was positioned against the wall behind the door, he walked over and, without a word, picked her bag up from beside her and dropped it on the floor, before sitting down next to her.

  After a few seconds he leaned back and crossed his legs so that his knee touched hers, and his hand slid along the back of the sofa until his fingers rested gently on the nape of her neck. Maggie could feel every muscle in her body tighten as he gently ran his fingertips through her hair and along her hairline.

  ‘Now relax, and I’ll show you how all this works. It’s very much a case of you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours, because you don’t get nothing for nothing in this business.’

  She was scared rigid, but she didn’t want him to know. Andy had already told her that Jack Blythe was looking for sophisticated grown-ups to turn into stars, not scared little girls. She moved a little, and then leaned cautiously back on to the sofa.

  ‘Young Andy told me about your financial woes; when are you going to able to get your hands on what’s rightfully yours?’

  ‘I don’t know if I am. Not till I’m twenty-one, I don’t think.’

  ‘Then we’re going to have to find another way for you to fund your career, aren’t we? As I said before, young Maggie, nothing for nothing.’

  ‘But I don’t …’

  ‘If you don’t, as you say, you wouldn’t be camped out in the room beneath my flat. Come on, stop playing games. We both know the rules …’

  Maggie tried to stand, but he pulled her back down. He leaned over, and before she could react he’d forced his tongue in her mouth and had his hand up inside her blouse. He pinched and squeezed her breast so hard that she yelped, but he seemed to enjoy her discomfort; it made him pinch even harder.

  Maggie was scared. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and she had no idea how to extricate herself from it.

  Jack Blythe stood up and swung a leg over so he was standing astride her on the sofa and, holding her down with his forearm across her throat, he started to unbutton his flies.

  ‘Don’t!’ Maggie started to cry. ‘Please don’t …’

  ‘You’ll love it, Maggie, you’ll love it. Now relax …’ His breathing was shallow and fast, and she could see his face reddening.

  The man was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn’t notice when the door opened a fraction – but Maggie did. She could see through the crack in the door that it was Andy. They locked eyes, and she nearly cried with relief, but then, to her horror, she saw him watch for a few seconds and then back away and pull the door closed as quietly as he’d opened it.

  It dawned on her in that second that he wasn’t going to help her.

  By that time, Jack was tugging at her knickers, trying to get them off.

  Maggie came to her senses. ‘Get off me! You can’t do this. You’re Andy’s father, and I’m his girlfriend.’

  Jack looked bewildered. ‘So what? What’s his is mine, and that includes you. Andy’s a Blythe; he knows how it works.’

  ‘Oh God, he’s outside, I heard him …’ Maggie said, trying to wriggle free from underneath him. She was frantic to get out of the situation. ‘Please don’t let him catch me in here. He’ll hate us.’

  Jack’s eyes changed, and he was suddenly back in the room. He stood up and straightened his clothes before he opened the door an inch and peered out into the studio. ‘He’s not here, you daft cow. There’s no one there at all. Oh, go on, get out. You’ve spoiled it now. Go on … out. We can continue this another time, after you’ve rehearsed. Nothing for nothing, remember.’

  Maggie grabbed her bag and ran out into the studio and sat on one of the chairs under the window. She didn’t have a clue what to do.

  It seemed like hours before the door opened again, and Jack Blythe came out of his office and acted as if nothing had happened. ‘Aren’t those bloody girls back yet? You’ll have to go and find them, Maggie. It’s rehearsal time … Oh, hang on, here they are.’ He waved his hand in their direction. ‘Come on, I haven’t got all day. Microphone.’

  Maggie had no idea what to do, so she decided to carry on as if nothing had happened. She walked over to the other two girls and stood alongside them at the microphone.

  ‘Here you go, girls.’ His voice echoed across the sparsely furnished room. ‘Lights down, music ready to go. It’s time for you to show me what you’re made of Maggie … a one, a two, a three and … SING.’

  Despite breathing deeply and digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, Maggie was so nervous that she thought the pounding of her heart would be heard over the backing music, which was blaring out of the two tinny speakers balanced on the floor on either side of her and the other girls.

  As they started to sing, Jack Blythe pulled the heavy curtains at the long narrow windows across and blocked out much of the light before clicking on a solitary spotlight, which shone from the other side of the room straight at them.

  Maggie couldn’t see anything or anyone, and the fierce light hurt her eyes, but she knew it was her one chance to impress the show-business agent sitting alone on the other side of the room. She told herself that all she had to do was sing her heart out and stay in sync with the others, who were experienced dance-hall singers. She had to ignore what had happened in his office. He knew now she wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t try his luck again.

  Although she had only just met Angel and Marnie, she knew what to do. Andy had briefed her well the night before. She knew all the words already, so all she had to do was sing in tune as she’d practised over and over so many times, to sway her hips and click her fingers in time to the music. Just like she’d been told.

  ‘And another one,’ Jack Blythe’s voice snapped as the first track of music faded. ‘One, two, three …’

  After four more songs, Maggie heard footsteps going across the room and then the spotlight went off and the curtains were pulled back. She
had spots before her eyes for a few moments until she could refocus in the daylight.

  ‘You can go now,’ he said.

  Grateful it was over, Maggie started to follow Angel and Marnie.

  ‘No, not you Maggie,’ he said. ‘Back in my office now.’

  She glanced sideways at the man. This was the moment of decision, the moment she would either have to get up and run and throw her dreams away or close her eyes and accept that this was the way it was in show business.

  Nothing for nothing.

  Twenty

  ‘Hello, Mum?’ Andy whispered down the phone with his hand cupped around the mouthpiece. ‘Mum, I don’t know what to do. I need you to help me.’

  ‘Calm down, baby, whatever’s wrong?’ Eunice Blythe said. ‘Has something happened to you? To your father?’

  ‘Mum, it was horrible. Dad was … Dad was …’ As he tried to get the words out, it all got the better of him and, to his embarrassment, he started to cry and couldn’t disguise it. ‘I went into Dad’s office, and he was … he was …’ Andy stuttered and stopped, finding it hard to say the words. He started to sob loudly.

  ‘Tell me, Andy,’ Eunice said. ‘Has something happened to Dad?’

  ‘No, it’s not like that. He was in his office doing things to Maggie! He was trying to make her do things …’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean, Andrew. You’ll have to speak slower; you’re gabbling. Now, start again, darling,’ Eunice Blythe said gently.

  Andy took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself; he already felt better just hearing his mother’s gentle voice. He told himself he didn’t need to cry like a girl, that she’d know what to do. She always did.

  He was crouched down behind his bedroom door with the cord of the telephone stretched under it. He was terrified his father was going to come up and spot the cord and catch him in the act of phoning his mother and betraying him, but he couldn’t help it. He had to talk to her. ‘I opened the door to Dad’s office, and he was on top of Maggie. He was … he was … Mum, she looked so scared, and I didn’t say anything. What shall I do?’