Lovers and Gamblers (45 page)

‘I’ll get it for you.’

Bobbie blinked nervously. ‘Good girl.’

‘Where shall I send it?’

‘Bring it yourself. No messengers.’ She scribbled down an address. ‘I’ll be waitin’. Oh – an’ chicken – none of your smartass ideas ’bout hittin’ on me. I gotta friend with a letter. Anything happens to me you got yourself up shit creek.’

Dallas nodded grimly. They must have been watching the same television programmes.

Bobbie wobbled happily off.

Kiki, on her way to the set, linked arms with Dallas. ‘Who was
that?
’ she asked.

Dallas shrugged. ‘Some freak chasing autographs.’

‘I wonder how these people get on the set,’ Kiki complained. ‘Tell me about your lunch – Chuck says you were last seen being spirited off by Doris Andrews. What’s she like?’

* * *

Cody spent two hours on the phone locating the best house he could in Acapulco for their honeymoon. He wanted to surprise Dallas. Wanted her to have something nice to look forward to.

When it was all arranged he got nervous in case she wouldn’t want to go to Acapulco. He had sent off a heavy deposit, but the hell with it… If she didn’t want to go there, he would sacrifice his deposit. True love indeed.

He had been thinking about what she had said. A baby. At first an unthinkable idea. But on second thoughts, if that was what would make her happy. After all she was a girl with no family. She had had a rotten life. If she wanted a baby…

It could be worked out. If only she would be prepared to wait a few months: long enough to get twenty-four of the shows in the can and all the Mack girl photos for the initial six months. It wasn’t such an impossible idea after all. And his mother – maybe it would soften the blow. A baby to look forward to.

He would have to think about it seriously. If that was what would make Dallas happy – well, it
was
a possibility. It
could
be planned. He remembered with horror the one and only time he had knocked a girl up. She had been a secretary at one of the studios. It had been
she
who had insisted on an abortion. In fact she had planned the weekend together in Tijuana and treated the whole thing as one long jaunt. Shocked at her callous attitude, he had dutifully spent the weekend with her, paid all the bills, and never seen her again. At least it proved he was potent.

* * *

Dallas left the studio at six. She consulted the scrap of paper Bobbie had scribbled her address on. It was on Santa Monica Boulevard – the massage parlour and porno shop end.

Christ! Dallas wasn’t pleased, but she had the money stacked neatly in her shoulder bag. And she had a little speech planned to lay on Bobbie. No more blackmail. If she wanted it, Dallas had decided she would pay for her to take a cure. If she didn’t want it – too bad. This thousand dollars was the last payment.

The traffic on Santa Monica was heavy. It was going home time – and everyone seemed to have decided to go home via Santa Monica.

Dallas scanned the numbers looking out for Bobbie’s address. She hadn’t bothered to call Cody to tell him she might be late, as she hadn’t realized Bobbie lived so far away.

At last she found it. A seedy walk-up apartment house sandwiched between a used army clothes shop and an ‘ORAL SEX – The Only Way’ neon-lit parlour. She hadn’t expected Bobbie to be living in the lap of luxury – but this – what a dump.

She parked the car a half block away and walked back. A drunk sat by the shabby open door. A sign read ‘Rooms by the hour’. Dallas shuddered. Suddenly she didn’t want to go in. Didn’t want to climb the narrow staircase and search for Apartment 4B which was probably only a room anyway.

The drunk reached for her leg and she stepped smartly past him and up the stairs. Rock music blared from behind a door marked 1A, a baby crying from IB. Both rooms on the second floor seemed silent. She continued up to the third floor, and jumped when the door of 3A opened and a hollow-eyed youth emerged, stared at her, and clattered off down the stairs.

She paused to catch her breath, anger creeping over her that she had allowed herself to get in this position. If only she could wipe out her past, just erase the whole lousy memory. Lew Margolis, Bobbie… Why did these people have to keep on reminding her… And who else was waiting out there to reveal her?

Wearily she reached the fourth floor. A door stood uninvitingly open. She checked the number, it was 4B.

‘Anyone around?’ she called, unwilling to enter the small darkened room.

‘Fuck off!’ screeched a woman’s voice from behind the closed door of 4A. This was followed by a man’s laughter.

Bobbie lay on the floor, naked and shivering. She had been badly beaten up. Her face looked unnatural; swollen and cracked lips, trickles of blood coming from her nose, and one eye so puffed up that you could hardly see it.

She rolled towards Dallas with a groan and an attempted smile. ‘Hey, sugar sweets,’ she mumbled, ‘y’all bring the money? I need it, man, like I
really
need it. They’re comin’ back, and next time they’re
really
gonna work me over!’

Al issued instructions that complete secrecy must prevail concerning Evan’s disappearance.

But too many people knew, and items of gossip leaked out and were exaggerated.

Edna was completely hysterical and had to have a doctor in constant attendance to keep her sedated and quiet.

Upon arrival in Tucson a private detective was hired. ‘He’ll pick him up in no time,’ Paul assured Al.

‘ If you had been watching out for him this would never have fucking happened,’ spat Al, his anger hissing out in the direction of anyone who came his way. ‘Why wasn’t someone watching him? Goddammit, I’m supposed to be the singer on this tour. Am I supposed to do everything else too?’

Paul shrugged. What could he say? He returned to his suite, and Melanie, and recounted the conversation with his brother.

‘He’s right,’ agreed Melanie, peering in the mirror and applying powder blusher with a brush. ‘Poor Al, you should have been keeping an eye on Evan.’

Jesus! Paul was speechless. Linda would have comforted him, told him that of course it wasn’t his fault – which it wasn’t.

‘You always side with Al,’ he complained. ‘Maybe you should have married
him.’

‘Maybe I should,’ agreed Melanie crisply. ‘I would have been much better for him than that whining hag he’s stuck with.’ She finished applying the blusher. ‘There! How do I look?’

‘Like the bitch that you are.’ He stormed out of the room. What did he need it for? A stupid, vain, nagging little bitch! Linda was right. He should face up to it and leave her. He would still be able to see his children. He would have visiting rights. But, God, they were still so young… Maybe if he could just stick it out for another couple of years.

* * *

They were in a park on the outskirts of town.

‘Move up,’ Glory giggled. ‘Shift that skinny ass an’ give me some space, man!’

Evan shifted around awkwardly in the sleeping bag. Glory shifted with him. They were both so thin that their bones crunched together.

Plum, huddled in her own sleeping bag next to them, mumbled, ‘Shut y’face. Gotta get some sleep.’

They had bought the sleeping bags as an investment against staying in hotels. As it was summer they provided adequate warmth and comfort, and during the day folded neatly into backpacks which were quite easy to carry.

Upon leaving the hotel in New Orleans they had taken a bus out of town, then left it after an hour and hitch-hiked back the way they had come. ‘Throw any snoopers off our tracks,’ Plum explained. ‘Daddy is sure to try an’ grab you back.’

Evan had no desire to be grabbed back. For the first time in his life he felt like a free person with his own identity. It didn’t occur to him that his mother would be worried sick. He knew he could look after himself, and it was about time she realized it.

‘You gotta hard-on?’ Glory was asking. ‘Little me feelin’ horny. You feelin’ horny, Evvvan?’ She was wriggling her hands down between them, feeling through his Y-fronts, pulling his very erect member out.

‘How can we do it in here?’ Evan asked, excitement flooding through him so strongly that he almost came at her touch.

‘Keep still,’ she commanded, manoeuvring him between her legs. She giggled. ‘Easy does it. Push. C’mon, man, push for shit’s sake.’

He felt himself slide inside the familiar contours of her body. She was different from Plum, more slippery and slidey.

‘Put your mouth to mine, man,’ she whispered. She had a pill in her mouth which she transferred skilfully to his. ‘Swallow it,’ she encouraged. ‘Swallow it down an’ keep on fuckin’!’

* * *

The little sod had ruined everything. Screwed every one of Al’s plans, and now he was stuck with a hysterical Edna who seemed to think that he was entirely to blame for Evan running off.

‘He split because of you,’ Al said at last. ‘You’ve always mollycoddled the crap out of him. He probably couldn’t face it any more.’

Edna shook her head in pain. ‘I trusted you with our son. I trusted you…’ She started to cry.

Al left the room. This was all he needed. Stuck with Edna. How could he be expected to work under these conditions? He needed space… He needed to drink without her complaining every time he took a swig. He needed to get laid. It was essential to have a dumb and busty blonde ready and available.

He stormed down to Paul’s suite, but there was sister-in-law Melanie in a low-cut yellow dress, thrusting tits (too small) and sympathy (too close to home) at him. He didn’t need
that.

In the elevator on the way back to his suite he bumped into Nellie. Sweet dark-haired Nellie, who touched his arm and said, ‘I understand, Al. I understand.’

There was the afternoon to get through so he said, ‘You want to buy me a drink?’

Her face lit up. ‘Oh, yes.’

‘What are we waiting for? Let’s go to your room.’

He vaguely remembered another afternoon he had spent with her. But it was only a hazy memory.

He went to her room, lay on the bed while she fussed around drawing the shades, pouring him a drink, loosening his clothes.

‘I knew you’d come back,’ she whispered. ‘I was sure you’d come back to me.’

He wasn’t really listening. His mind was going in a dozen different directions.

‘Do you want to make love?’ she was asking.

Make love. Is that what they called it?

She had taken off her dress to reveal black silken skin and small breasts with hard extended nipples. He liked more voluptuous women, but she would do.

‘You knew it was me on the plane. You did, didn’t you?’ she asked.

He didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed, ‘’course.’ Her long black hair fell in a sweeping curtain as he pushed her head down on him. He wanted no more than a blow job. He didn’t want to become involved with her face or body. He just wanted release.

After fifteen minutes he shoved her away. He couldn’t come.

Goddammit, Evan, you have even ruined my sex life.

‘What’s the matter?’ Nellie asked softly. ‘Am I doing something wrong?’

He rolled onto his stomach, ignoring her. He would have been better off with Sutch, big-titted Sutch whom he had never had. Or even fiery Rosa. Or better still, all three.

‘What room is Sutch in?’ he questioned.

‘Why?’ asked Nellie, blinking nervously.

‘Don’t bug me,’ snapped Al.

‘She… she’s in the room opposite.’

He climbed off the bed, zipped up his trousers.

‘Later,’ he said, and walked out.

Nellie ran to the door, watched him through the spyhole. He walked to the room across the hall, knocked. Sutch opened the door clad in a pink silk kimono. Al said something, Sutch grinned, and he walked in and closed the door.

Nellie stuffed her fist in her mouth to stop herself crying out.

All this time she had thought… imagined… but she meant nothing to him, absolutely nothing.

She walked into the bathroom and slid a razor blade out of the wall dispenser.

She sat on the side of the bath and stared at the sharp glint of fresh steel. Slowly she brought it to her wrist, and slowly she cut deeply into the taut flesh until the blood ran in a heavy river down her naked body.

* * *

‘I wondered when you’d get around to me,’ laughed Sutch. ‘Honey – I ain’t bin countin’ the days, but I sure knew the day would come!’

She poured him a hefty scotch and wrapped her kimono firmly round her, emphasizing her large, unfettered breasts.

She had what he was looking for, and he reached for them.

She slapped his hand away. ‘Say please!’ she chided, tossing her afro mane of orange hair.

‘Please,’ he said, ripping her kimono down the front, allowing her ripe and juicy body to be exposed.

She shook her boobs at him provocatively, as he had seen her shake them many times on stage – although on stage they had always been covered by flimsy strips of material.

‘Nice,’ he said.

‘Nice,’ she agreed. ‘Nice ’n yummy. Want a taste thrill, baby? Suck on a tit, I’ll roll us a joint.’

Why hadn’t he discovered Sutch before? She was more than enough to while away a boring afternoon with her plump sexy body and laid-back humour.

He followed her to the bed. Stevie Wonder was belting away on a portable tape machine. Sutch propped herself against the bed back and proceeded to roll a joint from the equipment she had on the bedside table. Al threw off his clothes and joined her.

‘My, my,’ she exclaimed. ‘Bless my little cotton socks! It’s
all
true – every goddamn spunky inch of it!’

‘Turn over,’ he commanded. ‘Get on all fours. We’ll have the joint later.’

‘Yeeeessireeee!’

* * *

Melanie wandered around the suite picking up things and inspecting them. Invitations, magazines, gifts from fans.

Edna sat in a chair wrapped in a dressing gown, her face white and drawn.

‘I don’t know,’ Melanie was saying, ‘I’m sure he’s all right. You know what boys are like. If he’s with those two girls… Well, they’ll look after him. He’s probably having a wonderful time.’ She spotted a mirror and leaned forward to study herself intently. ‘I look so tired!’ she wailed. ‘Fine trip this has turned out to be. All I’ve seen is the inside of an airplane and lousy hotel rooms.’ She adjusted a curl, coaxing it into place with some spit, then turned once more to Edna. ‘Why don’t we go out tonight?’ she suggested. ‘After the show. It would do you good. You could put on some make-up, and one of your new dresses. I can get Paul to book a table at the best place in town.’