Born to Dance by June Tate Read Free Book Online Page B

Andrews, were not appearing in the West End. Sammy grinned broadly. Great! This was exactly what he’d hoped for.
    Peter Collins, the West End producer, also read the report, which only added to his curiosity after dining with Bernie Cohen, who had praised these two dancers highly. Collins held the columnist in high esteem, knowing that his reputation as a theatre critic was well respected. If he didn’t like a performance he could be vitriolic, so praise from him was well earned. And so it was with great interest that he waited to accompany Cohen to Southampton for the Thursday evening performance.
     
    Bonny sat alone in the dressing room whilst the other dancers were on stage. Her ankle throbbed but the painkillers were beginning to kick in, and by the time the finale came round she hoped the throbbing would lessen. Nan had strapped her foot up well and now she was sitting with it up on a chair. Even so, she could see the foot was swollen.
    By now she was convinced that Lily had tripped her. After all, there was nothing for her to trip over. The staff backstage were always so careful about keeping the area free and clear to avoid such accidents. Conniving little bitch! She gave a slow smile. But her plan had failed, and Bonny was determined that even if she was in agony, she would dance.
    The girls filed back into the dressing room after their number and changed hurriedly for the finale. All the girls – except Lily – asked how she was.
    ‘I’m fine, a bit sore, but really I’m fine.’
    Shirley sat next to her and quietly remarked, ‘Like hell you are.’
    Bonny knew better than to try and fool her friend. ‘I am going on if it damn well kills me, if only to spite Miss Lily Stevens!’
    ‘I had a quiet word with Rob Andrews just now,’ Shirley told her. ‘I’m sure she tripped you up, and by the look of thunder on his face I would say she’s for the chop at the end of the week.’
     
    Bonny limped to the wings as the music started for the finale, praying that her ankle would hold up during the routine. Rob came up behind her as the chorus danced on before them.
    ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘I’ll be fine, don’t you worry about me,’ she said, and as their entrance came she smiled broadly as she danced on to the stage.
    The dance seemed endless. Rob, true to his word, took most of her weight during the lifts and when they were together, but when Bonny and he danced apart the pain in her ankle brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away and smiled throughout. At the end of the number, Rob caught hold of her, taking the weight off her feet.
    ‘Well done you,’ he whispered as they took their bow.
    Back in the dressing room, Nan had a large basin of ice cubes ready. ‘Here, put your foot in that,’ she said as she piled the ice around the swollen ankle.
    Rob entered the room and looked down. ‘I’m taking you home in a taxi,’ he said, ‘and tomorrow morning I’ll collect you and take you to the hospital. I want a doctor to take a look at you.’
    ‘I don’t honestly think that’s necessary,’ Bonny argued.
    ‘You may not think so, but I do. When you’re ready to go home, send Nan along and I’ll get a car.’
    ‘The master has spoken,’ said Shirley dryly. ‘Besides, he’s right, you should get it seen to.’
    ‘But what if the doctor tells me I can’t go on?’
    ‘Then Rob will have to do it alone, as he said he would.’
    ‘After all that publicity! No, I can’t let that happen. I’ll ask the doctor if I can’t have an injection for the pain before I dance. There are two nights and Saturday’s matinee to go. After that I can rest my foot at home. After all, I have only the final number to dance. Surely I can manage that?’
    ‘You’ll have to wait and see what happens,’ Shirley said, but she doubted that any doctor would advise such a thing.
    Once in the taxi, Bonny put her idea to Rob. ‘If the doctor at the hospital agrees with the injection, we could have a