Josephine Cox - Songbird

Up until then, it had not crossed Maddy’s mind that she might be so quickly replaced. Instead, she still harbored the illusion that Steve might yet feel proud at having fathered a child, and that in time he might even put a ring on her finger.

She relayed all this to Alice, but as ever Alice was noncommittal. “Let’s wait and see, me darlin’,” she said encouragingly, “Who knows? Possibly you and the wee one can make him change his ways, after all.”

Deep down though, she knew it would never happen.

When Alice left for her duties at the club after lunch, Maddy reflected on their conversation. This time, she was less optimistic. “What if she’s right and I can’t talk him round?” she asked herself. “What if he throws me out? What if he changes the locks on the flat and turns his back on me altogether?”

It was a frightening thought. She couldn’t put all her troubles on Alice, and she couldn’t afford a place of her own, as Steve only paid her a pittance, so where would they go, and the baby? How would they live?

A shocking thought rippled across her mind, and it brought her up sharp. Whatever happened, she would not have a termination. If Steve didn’t want her, she’d find a way to manage without him.

Yet the thought of making it on her own, with a baby in tow, was a terrifying thing. She was a singer; since the age of sixteen, when she was orphaned, she had always been a singer, scratching a living in shabby pubs and clubs until Steve had discovered and promoted her. It would be hard to sing in the clubs, as a single parent, impossible almost.

A sense of outrage coursed through her. “This is his baby, and he can damned well face his responsibilities!”

Determined either to win him over, or fight him tooth and nail, Maddy found herself regretting her promise not to go in tonight. What if “making Steve sweat” just got him in such an awful rage that he went and did get himself another singer – and then she would never be able to talk him round!

Pacing the floor, she could not rid herself of all these doubts and fears, until eventually, her instincts decided for her. Making herself believe that Alice would understand, she came to a decision. “I’ll play him at his own game,” she decided. “I’ll turn up tonight as usual, wear a gown to knock him out, and go onstage as though nothing has happened. Steve will come round to my way of thinking. I know he will.”

Her spirits uplifted, Maddy ran a hot bath and soaked in it for a time, until her thoughts were formulated and her wounds soothed.

After towel-drying her long hair, she then let it fall into its natural wave. She applied more antiseptic cream to her cuts, wincing as she rubbed it in, then quickly dressed in the clothes she had worn the previous day.

After making sure everything was secure, she put on her coat and left, deciding to catch a tube down to Clapham Common station and walk the rest of the way to the Battersea flat to get some fresh air.

If all goes well, I should be traveling back to the flat with Steve tonight, she thought, but she remained apprehensive. After all, she had learned the hard way how easily he could lose control.

The journey across town seemed to take forever. She felt oddly isolated and unsure of herself, and wondered if the confrontation with Steve had affected her more than she realized. Thankfully, by the time she had walked to the flat from the tube station, her confidence had grown.

Her key went into the lock easily, much to her relief. At least he hadn’t had the locks changed. That must mean something. Perhaps he had had time to think, and was regretting what he had done. The thought of making up brought a smile to her face.

The flat was a credit to her – though, as he enjoyed reminding her, the money she’d spent on making it both smart and cozy had been Steve Drayton’s, not hers.

The cream-colored carpet was of finest wool, as were the many different-colored rugs laid throughout. The elegant navy and cream color scheme varied from room to room; creating an effect that was unifying yet individual.

The leather settee and chairs set around a large fireplace in the lounge were warm and squashy, with a scattering of oversize cushions. The whole place was stamped with Maddy’s friendly and open personality, though with a discreet dash of elegance.

Encouraged by the fact that Steve had not changed the locks or thrown out her things, Maddy made her way to the bedroom and went straight to his wardrobe. Throwing open the doors, she stood a moment observing the expensive tailored suits hanging there. She roved her hands over them. “Are you really as bad as Alice says?” she murmured. “Would you really turn your back on your own flesh and blood?” She persuaded herself that somehow, she would make him love the child she carried inside her.

For herself, she laid out fresh lingerie, along with a smart cream-colored shirt with stand-up collar; then a short brown skirt and matching fitted jacket. Next she fished out her silk stockings and high-heeled cream-colored shoes. Although the skirt was rather tight, since her tummy was acquiring a rounded shape, she looked very fresh and pretty in the outfit.

Almost ready, she sat at the dressing table and skillfully applied foundation to her face, hiding the scratches. Eye-shadow and mascara followed, then a touch of coffee-colored lipstick and a generous spray of lightly scented perfume.

She gave her hair a final brushing, then checked herself in the full-length mirror. “Right, my girl!” The merest smile lit her face. “You’re about as ready as you’ll ever be.”

For the first time today, she felt good. It was off to the shops now, to find the ultimate glamorous outfit, with maybe an extra-long split to show off her legs and avert people’s eyes from her midriff. Or a low top to show off the bits of herself that he hadn’t marked. The smile fell from her face as she recalled his vicious attack on her. How could she risk her safety, and that of their child, with such an unpredictable man? When he fell into one of his rages, Steve Drayton became a monster.

Being Saturday, the Underground was busier than usual, the pavements heavy with people, and the Oxford Street shops full to bursting. At every pedestrian crossing, there was a long wait before the road was clear.

“I hate coming into London on a Saturday,” said a gray-haired woman, who was almost lifted off her feet when a gaggle of girls came rushing past. “I can’t stand all this pushing and shoving!”

Taking the pensioner by the arm, Maddy helped her across the road, to receive the loveliest smile for her trouble. “I’m glad not all young people are loud and selfish,” the woman said, ambling away with a tut and a grumble.

Maddy headed straight for Liberty’s on Regent Street. They had such fabulous evening wear there, suitable for showbiz.

“I want to open Steve’s eyes and make him see what he might be losing,” she told herself. “No more pink ladies. I’m going to get a fiery red dress! Yes, that’s it – I’ll go for red and be a scarlet woman instead.”

The saleslady looked at Maddy, at her voluminous golden-brown hair and her striking dark eyes, and said, “Oh no, my dear! Not red. With your coloring, you should wear the palest ivory.”

Maddy was amazed. “I’ve never even considered wearing ivory,” she confessed. “I’ve always thought that it would make me look washed out.”

The woman persuaded her to give it a try.

The first dress she put on was nipped in at the waist and full-skirted. “No, it’s definitely not me.” Maddy was unhappy with the style, but amazed by how flattering the color was.

The second one was straight-skirted and fitting, but the neck was high and the sleeves too full.