He unlocked the bedroom and strode to the front door with two of the cases. The party was still in full swing. He returned for the third suitcase.
‘Bye-bye, darling,’ Claudia yelled above the noise. She reeled across the room toward him. The front zipper on her cat suit was undone to her waist, and her breasts pushed forward to escape. Her hair was wild, and blood smeared her face.
‘You look lovely,’ he said. ‘Just like the drunken little slut you are.’
She laughed. ‘Get stuffed,’ she shouted. ‘Get lost, asshole – don’t come back. You’re a bloody bore.’
Giles joined her. ‘You tell him, kid,’ he said, slipping his hand inside her open zipper.
She made an obscene gesture and turned her back.
David left.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Well, look, darling, what is happening?’ Claudia’s voice was edgy and cold on the phone. ‘I mean, they’ve been back ten days now, and they should be able to tell us something?’
Her agent was noncommittal. ‘I can’t get any definite date out of them.’
‘But I signed a contract for two days’ work – a contract, remember?’
‘Yes, I know. But they’ve paid you for the work you were supposed to do. They don’t have to use you.’
She snorted angrily. ‘What kind of an agent are you? I’m supposed to be in that film. It’s a big film, and it will do me a lot of good – a lot more good than these walk-on bits you keep offering me. If you can’t do it, tell me, and I’ll get someone who can!’
Her agent’s voice was resigned. ‘I’m doing my best.’
‘Your best’s not good enough. Forget it, I’ll do it myself. I’ll call Conrad Lee.’ She slammed the phone down.
The apartment was in a terrible mess. The new cleaner had walked out the day after the party. Actually, the party had still been going on the next morning when she arrived, and she had taken one horrified look at the red-headed boy wearing Claudia’s cat suit who answered the front door and left.
It had been a good party, lasted three days in all. Claudia didn’t remember much about it, really – but Giles assured her it had been a mind blower.
David hadn’t returned. He hadn’t phoned and he hadn’t communicated in any way, although a mousy secretary had arrived one day about a week later to collect his mail and request that in future it be forwarded to his office.
Claudia didn’t miss him. She was rather glad he had gone. Life was too confining with someone watching every move you made. She had fallen in with David because it was easy, and he had left his wife, and it just sort of happened. It was rather nice having all the bills paid and lots of new clothes and no problems.
Now she would have to think about going back to work, a secret job she had which had always given her enough money to lead a comfortable, independent life. It would be better to be in Conrad’s movie and become a star and make lots more money that way.
The other way gave her a vicarious thrill, though, and none of her friends – no one – knew about it. She had always kept it a closely guarded secret. Before she was living with David all her friends had wondered but never found out how she managed to be so financially secure and independent. The job excited her. She wore wigs and did special creative makeup jobs, completely disguising her own features. She starred in glorious Technicolor in porno movies! In four years she had been in thirty of them, making a lot of money along the way. So successful was she at the disguise jobs that she was known as three completely different girls, all in constant demand by the voyeurs who got to see the finished products. If she wanted to work again, all it would take was a phone call. This is Evette – or Carmen – or Maria – and arrangements would be made. She was paid cash, and she contacted them – they had no way of reaching her. It was a satisfactory arrangement.
However, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to go back to doing that. Sometimes her co-stars left a lot to be desired, and of course, if you weren’t in the right mood, it could be pretty grim.
No – to appear in Conrad’s movie was the best thing, and if her agent couldn’t fix it, she certainly could. Conrad would probably be delighted to hear from her again.
She phoned the hotel he had stayed at on his previous visit, but he wasn’t registered there. She phoned the studio and spoke to a secretary who took her name and said she would pass Mr. Lee her message. She tried to find out where he was living, but the girl was polite but firm – ‘We’re not allowed to disclose Mr. Lee’s address,’ she said. ‘I’ll certainly see he gets your message.’ It wasn’t very satisfactory. Claudia wanted to get to him personally.
Giles would be able to find out. Giles was able to get hold of anyone. She called him at his studio, but there was no reply.
‘Dammit!’ she muttered, finally getting up.
There was a stack of bills by the front door. David had stopped paying for everything since he had left, and the bills were steadily mounting. She couldn’t stick him with any of them, as the apartment and everything was in her name. It was a question of getting hold of Conrad and becoming a star.
* * *
Linda stayed in the country with her parents and the children much longer than she expected to. It was so peaceful. The children were out playing all day while she sat in the house with her mother fussing around her. It was very relaxing, and knowing that to return to London was to be the beginning of a new life, she clung onto the limbo period of being with her parents.
Her mother wanted her to stay there permanently. ‘Sell your house,’ she urged. ‘There’s plenty of room for you here.’
Linda rejected the offer. Her parents’ home was just a temporary retreat, and tempting as the thought was, it would be a mistake to stay. She would be buried there, stifled. Her mother would take care of everything, even to bringing up the children. Linda would become the elder daughter of the family.
One Saturday afternoon David turned up. It was the first time she had seen him since the divorce.
‘I tried phoning the house. I was worried,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be here.’
Her voice was stilted, cold. ‘Why didn’t you phone first? Why did you just come?’
He was ill at ease. It was strange to see David groping for words – he who was usually so sure of himself.
‘I wanted to see the children.’ A note of indignation crept into his voice. ‘I’m supposed to see the children, you know.’ He looked thin and tired. ‘I’ve left Claudia,’ he blurted out.
She looked at him dispassionately. ‘Really.’
‘You look marvellous,’ he said.
She did look well. Her skin was glowing from long walks in the country, and her hair was shining and unset, tied casually back with a ribbon. She looked slim in a pair of slacks and a loose shirt.
She gestured outside. ‘The children are in the garden. I’ll call them in.’
He put a hand on her arm. ‘I said I’ve left Claudia.’
She brushed his hand impatiently away. ‘I heard you the first time, David. I’ll get the children.’ She walked quickly from the room.
He stayed the whole afternoon, chatting amicably to her parents, entertaining Jane and Stephen with all sorts of games.
David is turning on his well-known charm, Linda thought miserably. I wish he’d go away.
He finally left at six.
Her mother wanted to ask him to stay for dinner, but Linda hissed at her, ‘Don’t you dare.’ His charm had worked. ‘He really wants you back,’ her mother said after he had gone.
She was really saying you should go back to him. Linda knew the signs.
Her father was less direct. ‘That boy needs a father,’ he said, when Stephen played up before going to bed.
Her mother said later in the evening, ‘Poor David looks so unhappy.’
It was too much for Linda. They just didn’t understand. They meant well, but she had had enough.
The next morning she told them she was going back to London, and on Monday mor
ning she packed. Amidst tears from her mother and gruff words of wisdom from her father, she and the children were put safely on a train.
She was glad to be back in her own house. The children were pleased and excited to be reunited with all their books and toys, and cries of ‘super’ and ‘that’s mine’ rang through the house.
Ana gave her a list of phone messages, and among them were two calls from Jay Grossman. He had left his number. She didn’t call back. She thought about it, but somehow she felt if he really wanted to see her, he would try again.
Monica had phoned. They hadn’t spoken since the separation; they were David’s friends. She phoned her.
Monica was delighted. ‘Darling,’ she exclaimed, ‘I’m having a little dinner party – I’d love you to come.’
Linda was hesitant. ‘When?’
‘Tomorrow night. I must see you. It’s been such ages. Will you come?’
She hesitated. ‘I don’t know. Have you invited David?’
‘What do you take me for? Of course not. I don’t want any other excuses. I’ll see you tomorrow, eight o’clock. Don’t be late.’
It was settled. It might be fun. Monica always invited interesting people. She would go to the hairdresser’s and then buy a new dress. It was about time she started going out again.
* * *
Claudia sprawled untidily on a sofa at the back of Giles’s studio. He was hard at work photographing a languid brunette clad only in a silver body stocking.
Claudia yawned. ‘Why the hell don’t you answer your bloody phone? You could have saved me a trip.’
Giles didn’t look around; his concentration was completely on the model. After a few minutes he stopped, told the girl to take a break and wandered over to Claudia. He lit a cigarette and stuck it in her mouth.
She took a long drag, spluttered, and choked. ‘Jesus Christ! Smoking pot at this time of the day! You’re too much!’
He laughed, took it back, and said, ‘What do you want?’
‘I came to see you,’ she replied coyly. ‘’Cos I love you.’
‘Cut the crap. I’m busy. What do you want?’
‘Actually…’ She stretched. ‘I need Conrad Lee’s number – I thought you could get it for me.’
‘Things must be tough if you’re chasing him again.’
Her voice was irritable; sometimes she couldn’t stand him. ‘Things are not tough – and I’m not chasing anyone.’
He laughed. ‘Don’t forget it’s me you’re talking to, baby.’
‘How could I possibly forget?’
They exchanged stares. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘keep cool. I’ll get it for you.’ He made a few calls and got her the number.
She wrote it down and smiled. ‘Thank you, darling,’ she purred.
‘That’s all right, sweetheart – now get the hell out of here. I’ve got work to do.’
Claudia went shopping. She bought a white-and-gold silk jersey dress and gold spiky-heeled shoes, unfashionable but sexy. She went to the hairdresser’s and had her hair elaborately piled on top of her head. Back home, she bathed, splashing half a bottle of musky oil into the water. She took two hours with her makeup – worrying until it was perfect.
By the time she was dressed it was seven o’clock. She dialled the number Giles had given her. Conrad’s unmistakably accented voice answered.
She smiled. It was all going to work perfectly. She sounded cool and efficient. ‘Mr. Lee?’
‘Yes.’ His voice was gruff.
‘I am calling for Star magazine. You may know we are featuring your photograph on our cover this week, and I wondered if you might answer a few short questions about yourself.’
He became friendly. ‘My picture, huh? Sure, I’ll answer a few questions.’
Conceited pig! ‘Thank you so much. Mr. Lee, if you will just give me your address, I’ll be right over. It will only take a short while.’
He was surprised. ‘Can’t I answer them now?’
‘No, Mr. Lee, it’s important to get your comments in person. I’m such a fan!’
‘All right, all right.’ He gave her his address.
Controlling her laughter she hung up, admired her reflection in the mirror and buzzed the doorman for a cab.
Conrad lived in an imposing house in Belgravia. The door was opened by a manservant in a white jacket who ushered her into the library. She waited patiently for fifteen minutes until at last Conrad lumbered in. He hadn’t changed. A fat cigar was stuck between his fleshy lips, and he wore the same green silk smoking jacket.
She arose, deliberately posing her body so that the thin silk dress clung even tighter. She knew she had never looked better. ‘Hi.’ She smiled provocatively.
He came to an abrupt standstill. She could see he didn’t recognize her. He plucked the cigar from his mouth. ‘Are you the broad from Star?’
‘Do I look like a lady journalist?’
His piercing eyes roved over her body. His memory stirred. ‘Hey – you’re the broad from the party I gave.’ His voice changed. ‘Hey – what’s going on here – what is this?’
‘You’re a difficult man to get hold of. I’ve left lots of messages for you.’
‘So?’
‘I thought it was about time we got together again. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all the fun we had last time.’
Interest flickered briefly in his eyes. ‘Listen, I’ve got guests. You stay here, and I’ll see what I can do.’
He left the room and she smiled triumphantly. It was amazing what a fabulous body could do.
He was gone for a long time. The manservant came in with a drink and left her some magazines. She leafed idly through them, waiting, because eventually he would be back, and then tomorrow morning, enter Claudia Star!
Chapter Fifteen
From the day he walked out on Claudia, David felt depressed. It wasn’t that he had wanted to stay, the situation was impossible.
Claudia had turned out to be an out-and-out slut. She lolled around reading magazines all day, only bothering with her appearance if they were going out. She stayed in bed until noon, never tidying the apartment. The only thing she seemed capable of was incessant lovemaking, and whereas before he had lived with her, he had always been ready, now he just couldn’t do it. She was insatiable and demanding, never getting enough. David had always prided himself on his sexual appetite, but this was ridiculous.
He was pleased to have an excuse to get out. But depression followed, because instead of dismissing the whole mess from his mind and going home to his wife and children, he was an outcast with nowhere to go except the coldness of a hotel room. No home comforts, just four impersonal walls, an empty bed, and a Do Not Disturb sign.
He returned to work with a vengeance and brooded on the possibilities of getting back together with Linda. He reasoned that she should take him back. After all, there were the children to consider. They wanted him back. Everything could be like it was before, only this time he wouldn’t be such a fool and get hooked up with a tramp like Claudia. He would be more careful, pick and choose, short casual affairs, nothing that Linda could discover.
He phoned his ex-home and the maid informed him that Linda and the children were in the country with her parents. He was pleased. Give her more time to get over it. She was a sensible woman. She would know it was right for them to be together.
The first Saturday he was free he drove down to see her.
She looked surprisingly fresh and well, although her attitude was cold toward him. It was only to be expected.
He told her about leaving Claudia. Her reaction was strangely negative.
Give her time, he thought, she’ll come around.
He was charming to her parents. He knew they were back on his side.
Later he drove back to London and called an old girlfriend. She was giggly and a bit stupid but had a great body.
They went to a movie and then back to her place. She was lousy in bed. She had none of the franticness of Clau
dia or the calmness of Linda. He left after an hour.
On Sunday he woke early with nothing to do. An impulse took him to his office. He had a backlog of letters and other work he never found time for during the week.
He really needed his secretary to be around. Poor, plain Miss Field. Maybe she was available. She looked the sort of person who never made any plans. He phoned her.
Her voice was timid. ‘Hello.’
‘Miss Field. Mr. Cooper here.’
‘Oh!’ Her voice became a startled squeak, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been.
‘Miss Field, how do you feel about working today?’
‘Oh, Mr. Cooper – oh, really?’
‘It’s all right if you can’t manage it.’
‘Oh, no – Oh, Mr. Cooper, of course I can.’
‘Good. Get here as fast as you can.’
She was there within the hour, pale and nervous.
‘You look very nice today, Miss Field,’ he said politely.
She had brushed her thin stringy brown hair down instead of pulling it back, and she wore a harsh scarlet lipstick on her thin, usually colourless mouth. Sunday clothes consisted of a brown dress and blue woollen cardigan. She was a picture of plainness.
They worked efficiently through the day nonstop until the light began to fade, and David suddenly realized it was getting late.
‘I suppose we’d better quit,’ he said, yawning. ‘You must be hungry.’
‘Mr. Cooper…’ Her voice was hesitant, nervous. ‘Perhaps you would care to have a little dinner with me.’ A bright red flush was spreading up into her hairline. ‘I make it my business to always prepare a cordon-bleu dinner on Sundays – one of my little hobbies, and I would be only too delighted if you would sample it.’ She added quickly, ‘Boeuf Stroganoff, with fresh green salad, followed by lemon meringue pie.’
It sounded good. Besides, he had nowhere else to go. She kept blushing, and he felt sorry for her. ‘What a good idea, Miss Field. I’d be glad to.’
She lived in a tiny one-room apartment. The couch, neatly festooned with crochet cushions, obviously did double duty as the bed.
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