B00CAXBD9C EBOK (19 page)

‘Do you think so?’

‘Sure, listen, Linda – I’m experienced in these things. He blew a beautiful setup with you. You’re not some little ding-a-ling – you’re a lovely woman, and I bet he wants you back.’ He paused and then asked casually, ‘How do you feel about him?’

She was thoughtful. ‘I don’t know. I don’t love him or anything like that. It’s just that in spite of his insults, I do feel sorry for him. After all, I have the house and the children, and what does he have?’

‘Hey, whoa, baby, you’re starting to think like he
wants
you to think. He chose, didn’t he?’

She nodded. ‘You’re right.’

‘Good. At least you’re starting to realize I’m always right!’ He laughed. ‘Now, go upstairs, powder your nose, put on your black dress, and let’s go.’

She smiled. ‘Yes, Jay.’

He took her to Annabel’s. They dined elegantly. Jay entranced her with amusing stories about the film and the location in Israel. He told her about his children – there were three of them, one by his first wife and two by his second.

‘Beautiful blond Californians,’ he said wryly. ‘I don’t get to see them too much. Lori hated children.’

‘How old are they?’

‘Caroline’s the eldest, she’s fifteen – a real cuckoo kid. Lives in San Francisco with Jenny, my first wife. Then there’s Lee, he’s ten, and Lance, who’s nine. They’ve got a great stepfather now, and I see them whenever I’m in LA.’

‘I’ve never been to America. Is it as glossy as it all looks on the screen?’

He laughed. ‘I guess you could say Hollywood is pretty glossy – personally, the only thing I really like there is the weather.’

After dinner they were joined by friends of Jay’s, also in the movie business.

It was a lovely evening. Jay took Linda home in his chauffeured studio car and kissed her on the cheek.

‘How about Saturday?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she replied quietly.

‘I’ll call tomorrow. And don’t forget, get on to your lawyer first thing.’

‘I will.’

They smiled at each other. She let herself into the house and watched him through the window as he climbed back into the car. She liked him a lot.

* * *

Claudia buried herself in bed at her apartment. She huddled beneath the covers, bruised, used, and frightened to face anyone.

The day after the debacle with Conrad she called her agent and told him everything was fixed, and that he would be hearing from the studio. Then she took a variety of pills and slept, or tried to.

Claudia was not naive. There had been many men, many different scenes, the blue movies. But never anything so degrading as the evening at Conrad’s house. When she closed her eyes, visions of evil, smiling faces swept before her. All the things they had made her do raced through her thoughts. She could still feel their hands. Her body screamed from the aches of sexual misuse.

She stayed beneath the covers, not eating, ignoring the telephone, inert and numb for several days.

Nobody cared, nobody came. If she died it would probably be months before they discovered her. Where were all her so-called friends?

At last she forced herself to get up. She was thin and white. She dressed and went out. The people in the street disgusted her. She went to see Giles. He was away in Majorca. She returned home and hacked off all her tawny glorious hair with her nail scissors. Then she slipped back into bed and, this time, slept.

When she woke the next day she felt much better. She opened some cans and ate. She was horrified to see what she had done to her hair. It stuck out at all angles and looked a mess. She read the papers and magazines that had piled up by the front door and called her agent.

No, he hadn’t heard yet. Had she read that Conrad was getting married?

She grabbed the papers again. There it was – Conrad Lee, sixty-two years old, famous producer, to marry twenty-year-old model and ex-debutante Shirley Sheldon.

Shirley Sheldon! Claudia gasped in amazement. Shirley Sheldon! Ex-fiancée of the Honourable Jeremy Francis, ex-stripper. It couldn’t possibly be true. Shirley was a phony debutante only interested in getting on in life. She had only hooked up with Jeremy because he had a title.

Claudia supposed she was going for Conrad’s money and fame. But what on earth could
he
see in
her?
She wasn’t
that
pretty, she had a lousy figure, and she was a dreary bore. The old schmuck must reckon she really was a debutante. What a laugh! Why, she had introduced them. She remembered Shirley coming to her party and having that great suntan. She must have got it in Israel. What a cow! Where had she been the other night? Didn’t he involve his fiancée in his orgies? And if not, why not?

She read the article again. The wedding was set for that same day. She just couldn’t believe it. Thin Shirley Sheldon, certainly not an ex-debutante, certainly not twenty.

‘Ha!’ she snorted. It was all too much.

On sudden impulse she raced to the phone book and looked up the Honourable Jeremy. She found his number and dialled quickly.

He was home, stammering and unsure as ever. ‘I s-s-say, Claudia, how nice,’ he said, after she announced herself.

‘Are you going to Shirley’s wedding?’ she asked bluntly.

‘I should jolly well s-s-say so, wouldn’t want to miss that – w-w-hat?’ He chortled happily.

‘I thought we might go together,’ she said casually. ‘It’s about time we saw each other again.’

‘I say, what a good idea. S-s-shall I fetch you?’

She smiled. It was too easy. ‘Terrific – what time?’

‘If the reception s-s-starts at s-s-six, I think I should come for you at five-thirty.’

‘Marvellous, Jeremy.’ She gave him her address and hung up. What an idiot he was.

She spent the afternoon at the hairdresser and emerged with a whole new look. Her hair, short like a boy’s, sleek, with long sideburns. Fortunately it was the look of the moment. Anyway, all the top models were wearing it. It went well with the ultrashort, skimpy gold shift she chose to wear.

Jeremy was impressed. ‘I s-s-say, old girl, you look absolutely super!’ he said, when he called for her.

She fixed him a strong martini and noticed his bad complexion was still the same. She resisted a strong temptation to ask him if he ever got laid.

‘So good old Shirley’s finally making the wedding-bells scene,’ she said, sipping her martini and exhibiting a great deal of leg as she sat in the big armchair opposite him.

His eyes bulged. ‘Yes. I’ll s-s-say.’

‘Whatever happened with you two?’

‘Well’ – he waved his long skinny arms about – ‘she’s a s-s-s-super girl, great fun and all that, but she s-s-said she needed someone more mature.’ He took a few gulps of his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing rhythmically. ‘We’re s-s-still great pals,’ he added lamely.

‘Just as well,’ Claudia said briskly. ‘After all, she’s so much older than you.’

‘She is?’ Jeremy looked surprised.

‘I don’t want to give away any secrets. I mean she looks after herself so well – but after all, how long can she go on fooling everybody?’ Claudia shook her head wisely, and Jeremy stared at her, his mouth hanging open inanely. ‘Shall we go?’ she asked brightly, jumping up and smoothing her dress down.

‘Er – yes.’ Jeremy got up too.

He was very tall and ungainly – a real chinless wonder, Claudia thought. It was no surprise Shirley had ditched him for Conrad. At least Conrad had a certain grotesque style.

Jeremy drove a shiny red MG. It was very uncomfortable, he had to cram himself behind the wheel.

‘Why don’t you get a bigger car?’ she asked. After all, his parents were supposed to be loaded.

‘Oh, this little bus really gets me around,’ he said proudly. ‘Wouldn’t s-s-swap this one in.’

He drove badly, jerking the clutch, cutting up other drivers without even noticing, and racing cars at the traffic lights.

Claudia felt sick by the time they arrived. She needed a fast drink. What a joy it would be to see Shirley’s and Conrad’s faces when they saw her.
Quelle surprise!

* * *

David sat in his car smoking a cigarette. He didn’t have to wait long before a sleek black chauffeur-driven limousine glided to a halt in front of his house – well, Linda’s house. A man emerged. David was too far away to recognize him. He swore under his breath and edged his car a little nearer, but it was too late, the man had already gone inside.

Well, Linda was certainly doing all right for herself. The man, whoever he was, obviously had money. Women were such schemers. They couldn’t wait – here they were divorced only a few weeks, and there was Linda going out and living it up. She probably had this sucker all lined up! Bitch! She was no better than Claudia.

He waited impatiently for them to come out. They were certainly taking their time, probably having a quick one in the living room. He contemplated going in and punching the man – whoever he was – on the nose. But she probably wouldn’t let him in anyway.

She would pay for this when he took her back. At the rate she was going, maybe he wouldn’t even want her back.

He sat, immersed in his thoughts, until they finally came out. The man, the bastard, had his arm around her. The chauffeur jumped out and opened the door for them. They climbed in, the chauffeur got back in the car, and they slid off.

David set off in pursuit, keeping a discreet distance between the cars. It was unfortunate for him that at Swiss Cottage the chauffeur decided to skip through a yellow light, and David, following him on red, was stopped by a policeman on a motorcycle. He had to produce his licence and insurance, and the policeman gave him a lecture on dangerous driving. Of course, by the time he was free to go, their car had long vanished into the night. Pangs of hunger didn’t help his mood. He hated eating on his own, but at this hour there seemed no alternative. He decided to go somewhere cheerful, and he headed for Carlo’s.

It was packed, as usual. Lots of bright-looking females in their most startling outfits, and the actors, photographers, and men about town who were their escorts for the night.

The headwaiter told him, with a phony sad shake of his head, that it would be at least two hours before he could squeeze a table for one in. David slipped him money, and the waiter became a little brighter about his prospects. He asked David to wait at the bar, and he would see what he could manage.

David ordered a Scotch on the rocks and surveyed the scene. He couldn’t help thinking about the last time he had been here with Claudia. He wondered what she was doing now, but found he didn’t really care. If it wasn’t for her, he would be at home with his wife now.

A woman was staring at him. He stared back. She had mounds of silver-blond hair piled on top of her head, and she wore a white mink coat. Her face looked familiar. She was with two men who were in deep conversation – loud old Americans – one was wearing cowboy boots.

She sat very still. Cool, beautiful, and remote from her companions.

Suddenly David remembered her. It was Lori Grossman. He put his drink down and went over to her table. ‘Hello, Lori,’ he said, and then by way of jogging her memory, ‘David Cooper. Remember me?’

Her smile was small, sensuous, as she extended an elongated whiter-than-white hand. ‘David. How nice.’

The two men stopped talking. She introduced the elder one – he must have been all of seventy – as Marvin Rufus, her husband.

David looked surprised. Whatever happened to Jay?

‘Sit down – have a drink,’ Marvin said and immediately resumed his conversation with the other man.

Lori slipped off her white mink coat, revealing black lace, cut to a low V. She had small but perfect breasts. She was wearing no bra.

‘I ditched Jay,’ she said in answer to his unspoken question. ‘He was a real cheap bastard.’ She adjusted a fabulous diamond bracelet clamped around her thin wrist. ‘Marvin knows how to treat a woman…’ She trailed off, her pale, frosty, aquamarine eyes staring hungrily into his.

This one was ready! David congratulated himself on being so attractive to women. She was eating him up with her eyes! ‘Linda and I are divorced,’ he said. ‘It just didn’t work out.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ she drawled.

‘You know?’ he said, surprised.

She smiled. ‘A little birdie told me. And I suppose
you
know that my darling peachy ex is dating your ex. Isn’t that cosy?’

‘Jay is taking out Linda?’ He couldn’t believe it.

‘That’s right, honey.’ She moved closer to him, and he felt a sudden pressure from her leg under the table. His hand touched a silky thigh. She couldn’t wait!

Marvin and the other man talked on, something about market prices in London, and would the pound be devalued.

‘How long are you here for?’ he asked.

‘Just a couple of days,’ she drawled.

That would be long enough. If Jay was knocking off Linda, he might as well grab a piece of Lori. She was obviously ready, willing, and able.

Under the table his hand crept further up her leg, reaching smooth skin above the stocking top.

‘Are you meeting someone?’ she asked.

He shook his head.

‘You must join us then. Marve won’t mind. He’ll be talking business for hours.’

In a few minutes their table was ready. True to what Lori had said, her husband continued his marathon conversation with the other man, barely pausing to eat.

Lori ate like a sparrow, nibbling small pieces of steak, picking at a salad. Then the music started, and David asked her to dance. She was very tall, her bird’s nest of hair making her even more so.

‘Well?’ he said when they were on the dance floor. The prospect of messing up this spectacular piece of aloofness was exciting him.

She felt his excitement and pressed closer.

‘Marve will want to go gambling when we leave here. I’ll say I’m too tired, and you’ll offer to take me to the hotel. We have separate suites. He won’t disturb us.’

He gripped her to him hard. He could feel her bones as she ground her body to the sound of the music.

‘What if it doesn’t work?’ he asked.

‘It will work.’ She gave a low laugh. ‘It always has before.’