Free Born to Dance by June Tate Page B

sitting in the stalls, watching. He recognized him as the man who had been with Lily at Peter’s party and he guessed that Lily had been whingeing to him about her position in the chorus. It had to happen sometime, he supposed, but he would wait to be approached.
    Charles Kendal watched the rehearsals until lunchtime. He realized the talent of the dance director and was most impressed with the choreography of each production. Not being a fool, he also realized that Lily was not as good a dancer as she perceived herself to be. But he was a man of the world, well versed in handling women. Lily suited him. She was attractive and pliable. Charles was well aware that she was using him to her own ends, but he was doing the same. A permanent woman on his arm, wearing his ring, kept other young women from pestering him. Lily was good in bed and the present situation suited him. He would never marry her, of course – but she didn’t know that.
    As the company broke for lunch, he approached Rob Andrews.Holding out his hand, he introduced himself. ‘Charles Kendal, one of your backers.’
    ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mr Kendal. What can I do for you?’
    With a sly smile, Charles said, ‘I’m sure you already have an inkling about that. Why don’t you and I go and have a sandwich and a beer, then we can talk?’
    Lily smiled with pleasure as she saw the two men leave the theatre. Glancing over towards Shirley and Bonny her mouth tightened. Those two would soon realize she was not to be messed with!
    Once in the nearby pub, the two men sat in a quiet corner. Charles came straight to the point. ‘Lily wants a solo spot. What do you have to say about that?’
    ‘She isn’t nearly good enough.’ Rob didn’t mince his words. ‘You have watched the rehearsal all the morning. You must have seen for yourself that she is just an average dancer.’
    ‘I agree.’
    This comment took Rob by surprise. ‘Then you must realize that I can’t give her a solo spot.’
    Charles sipped his beer. ‘There is always another way to skin a cat than the obvious one, Mr Andrews. If we can work something out between us, our problem will be solved.’
    Rob looked thoughtful. He liked Charles Kendal. Realizing the man was canny, he asked, ‘Have you any suggestions?’
    ‘As a matter of fact I have.’
     
    Giles Gilmore greeted his secretary as he walked into his office in Jermyn Street. ‘Good morning, Jennifer, any messages?’
    ‘I’ve put a list on your desk, Mr Gilmore. Jessie Matthews called and asked that you call her back. There’s some problem she wants you to take care of. The rest are not life-threatening.’
    ‘That makes a change,’ he laughed.
    Giles came from a theatrical background. His father, James, was an agent, his mother, Frances, had been a well-known singer but had given up her career to become a wife and mother. Giles had helped his father before branching out on his own. He started with a small theatre, which he bought, and put on his own shows before selling out at a profit. He then bought properties around London and sold them on, amassing a small fortune, which he ploughed into backing West End shows, which made him a renowned angelin the business. He had a nose for success and every producer with a show to finance hoped for his interest.
    Giles moved effortlessly among the glitterati of the theatre and with big businessmen in the City. His financial acumen was recognized by them all. His success had bought him a fine apartment in Sloane Square and a house in Virginia Water. He was unmarried, but was never without a good-looking woman on his arm when the occasion merited one, such as on an opening night.
    Whilst working for his father, Giles had had to do business with a wide spectrum of clients, which had sometimes taken him into the seedy world of the City. He had dealt with boxing promoters, for instance. A rough and tough world inhabited by a doubtful mix of people, many of whom were unscrupulous. But Giles,