BooksBarbecue
Back Goodnight Lady
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Praise
  4. Dedication
  5. BOOK ONE
  6. Prologue 1989
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. BOOK TWO - 1925
  17. Chapter Ten - 1925
  18. Chapter Eleven
  19. Chapter Twelve
  20. Chapter Thirteen
  21. Chapter Fourteen
  22. Chapter Fifteen
  23. Chapter Sixteen
  24. Chapter Seventeen
  25. Chapter Eighteen
  26. Chapter Nineteen
  27. Chapter Twenty
  28. Chapter Twenty-one
  29. Chapter Twenty-two
  30. Chapter Twenty-three
  31. Chapter Twenty-four
  32. Chapter Twenty-five
  33. Chapter Twenty-six
  34. Chapter Twenty-seven
  35. Chapter Twenty-eight
  36. Chapter Twenty-nine
  37. Chapter Thirty
  38. Chapter Thirty-one
  39. Chapter Thirty-two
  40. BOOK THREE - 1947
  41. Chapter Thirty-three
  42. Chapter Thirty-four
  43. Chapter Thirty-five
  44. Chapter Thirty-six
  45. Chapter Thirty-seven
  46. Chapter Thirty-eight
  47. Chapter Thirty-nine
  48. Chapter Forty
  49. BOOK FOUR - 1968
  50. Chapter Forty-one - 1968
  51. Chapter Forty-two
  52. Chapter Forty-three
  53. Chapter Forty-four
  54. Chapter Forty-five
  55. Chapter Forty-six
  56. Chapter Forty-seven
  57. Chapter Forty-eight
  58. Chapter Forty-nine
  59. Chapter Fifty - 1970
  60. EPILOGUE

She had not worked since 1949. She had not sung in public since then, and only rarely in private. She had sunk into a world of booze and drugs after Briony, wonderful Briony, had seen fit to send her to that place where they had dried her out.

Well, they had dried her out in some ways. But not the way they wanted.

Six months later she had emerged from the beautifully kept grounds of Fairhaven in Surrey, slim, bright-eyed, and dead inside. It had shown in her performance and it had also shown in her face. She had lost it all, the need to sing, the love of music, she had lost everything that had made her special in that place, thanks to ECT.

Within a year of being home she was on every kind of drug imaginable, she was into heroin, barbiturates, hashish, anything she could lay her perfectly manicured nails on. The last doctor she had seen had told her the same as all the others: she was self-destructive.

Then why the fuck didn’t they just let her destroy herself.

Suzannah Rankins was dressed in her best. She wore a short dress of white broderie anglaise, her legs in skin-tone tights and her make-up minimal. She had not worn much makeup because her dad didn’t like it. Her dad didn’t like anything, least of all her relationship with Boysie Cavanagh, and that was a big part of his attraction. Boysie was the main man, and when he had singled her out she had felt so special, so grown-up - yet so in awe of his fine clothes and cars and jewellery she had wanted to die of happiness. She really liked him as well. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she loved him, but as good as. Now he was marrying her, and she was glad she had taken her mother’s advice. If she had slept with Boysie, she knew he would only have used her. It was her virginity that attracted him, and her freshness. Well, soon she’d be married as she had always dreamt she would be, in a nice church in a big expensive dress with a rich husband beside her.

It was a dream come true all right.

Then, as Mrs Boysie Cavanagh, she could do what the hell she liked. No worrying about playing her records loud and at all hours, no worrying about what time she was in. No more hassles from her mum and dad, she would be a respectable married woman.