The Club

by Mandasue Heller

  Across town just then, dropping Fabian in it was the last thing on Melody’s mind. Not long back from the club, she’d been banished to the bedroom of the hotel suite that was fast becoming home – to Tony, at least – while he and Eddie got on with some ‘private’ business in the lounge.

  Melody was sick to death of Tony and his secrets. Every night for weeks he’d been dropping her off here after the club and pissing off out to God only knew where with Eddie. And on the rare occasions that he actually stayed in, he spent all his time with Eddie, having conversations that she wasn’t allowed to join in with. She’d given up trying to listen through a glass, because the walls were too damn thick and she could never make anything out, so she invariably went to bed to catch up on her beauty sleep. But she was way too wired to sleep tonight, so she decided to call her agent, Scotty Nash, on the off chance that she might actually reach him this time.

  Melody had been here for six weeks now, and to start with Scotty had called daily to tell her what was happening back home, and to ask when she was coming back, because he had big things planned for his ‘favourite girl’. But two weeks ago he’d suddenly stopped calling, and she had found it impossible to get through to him since. If she called his office, his secretary said he was in a meeting; and whenever she tried his mobile it was either switched off or he just wasn’t answering – and she suspected the latter to be the case.

  Realising that her mistake was to always call him from her mobile, the number of which he obviously knew and could therefore ignore, she decided to trick him by using the hotel line. Asking the operator for an international line, she tapped Scotty’s number into the bedside phone and settled back against the pillows.

  ‘Ah ha!’ she crowed when he answered on the second ring. ‘So glad I caught you when you weren’t busy – for once!’

  ‘Melody,’ Scotty said, his voice betraying that she had been dead right about him avoiding her. ‘Hi, Sweets. How are you? I’ve been meaning to call, but you know how it is this end. Work, work, work!’

  ‘Yeah, and I’m supposed to be your most important client,’ Melody reminded him icily. ‘So, what’s happening, Scotty? What have you got lined up for me?’

  ‘It’s been a bit hectic lately,’ Scotty said evasively. ‘What with the Oscars coming up, and the preparations for Cannes, and everything.’

  ‘What about my audition?’ Melody cut in impatiently. ‘Have you been in touch with the producers?’

  ‘Sure, I’ve been in touch. But you know how it is with those guys – too many dinners to eat, too much booze to drink.’

  ‘Never mind that, what are they saying about me?’

  ‘Ah, well, that’s the thing, see . . .’ Scotty sounded like he was sweating now. ‘They, um, kinda passed.’

  ‘Passed?’ Melody repeated croakily, feeling like a bucket of ice water had just been tipped over her head. ‘What do you mean, passed? They didn’t want me?’

  ‘Something like that, I guess. But, hey, you know . . . there’ll be other parts.’

  ‘I don’t want other parts,’ Melody whined. ‘I want that part. Why didn’t you get it for me, Scotty? You’re supposed to have stayed on it. That’s what I pay you for, you dumb shit!’

  ‘Hey, don’t be ragging on me,’ Scotty shot back at her. ‘It ain’t my fault you took yourself out of the picture for so fucking long and let them producers forget you exist. I did warn you. You know how competitive this market is.’

  ‘It’s only a holiday,’ she gasped. ‘It’s not like I’m never coming back.’

  ‘Try telling them that,’ Scotty countered. ‘These guys got better things to do than sit around waiting on someone who ain’t even in the news no more.’

  ‘I’m not?’ Melody murmured, feeling sick now because she’d been a regular column-filler before leaving – if not quite the headliner she’d planned on becoming once the Julia Roberts film was in the bag.

  ‘Nope. Not a thing in weeks,’ Scotty told her – sounding remarkably unconcerned, she thought, considering that he should have been tearing his hair out thinking up ways of keeping her name in print while she was away: feeding gossip to the press, leaking rumours – anything to keep her out there.

  ‘So, have they cast the part yet?’ she forced herself to ask – not wanting to hear an affirmative, but needing to know if there was still time to get home and rectify things. If they hadn’t chosen anyone else yet, she might still be able to persuade the producers that she was their girl. Or maybe she could go directly to Julia. She’d read through the scene with Melody at the audition and had said she was fantastic. If Melody could get to her—

  ‘Remember that girl, Deanna Shelby?’ Scotty cut into her thoughts.

  ‘No,’ Melody muttered, feeling sicker than ever. ‘Please don’t tell me she got it?’

  ‘Yup. Wowed ’em, by all accounts – really blew them away.’

  ‘How?’ Melody gasped. ‘She might as well be me – but without the talent. She’s a fucking freak! Copying my style, and turning up at all the same auditions.’

  ‘Well, it’s obviously working for her,’ Scotty commented snidely. ‘Word is, it was actually a toss-up between you and her for a while. But she’s been getting herself out and about since the audition, and you’ve disappeared off the face of the earth, so it wasn’t that tough a decision in the end.’

  ‘But that’s not fair!’ Melody whined. ‘I’m the real deal, she’s just a fucking clone! And the critics—’

  ‘Are raving about Deanna now,’ Scotty jumped in. ‘She’s their Next Big Thing now. And you should see the headlines she’s been getting. Boy, that girl knows how to get herself column inches!’

  Hearing him chuckle at his end, a light switched on in Melody’s head.

  ‘You’re representing her, aren’t you?’ she demanded icily.

  ‘Well, hell, yeah,’ Scotty admitted. ‘I’d have been a fool not to when she was practically begging me, don’t you think? I mean, now she’s in there with Julia, it’s gonna be mucho buckolas all the way.’

  Melody slammed the phone down.

  Scotty had told her everything she needed to know. She was on her way out; the door was already closing behind her. The fickle producers who had so recently wined and dined her had already forgotten her; and Scotty scumbag Nash was effectively dumping her, because he’d be too busy pouring all of his time and energy into his new money-cow from here on in.

  And Deanna Shelby was the biggest cow going!

  The ugly witch had crawled out of the woodwork last year and come trailing after Melody like the annoying slug that she was, copying Melody’s clothes, getting the same hair colour and extensions, and the same porcelain veneers. She’d even gone to the trouble of finding out which tuck-and-suck man Melody had used, and got herself the same boobs, nose and lips. She’d been so desperate to be Melody, and it looked like she’d finally achieved her aim. In six short weeks she had stepped neatly and completely into Melody’s shoes – and there wasn’t a goddamned thing Melody could do about it, because she was wasting away over here, in the no man’s land they called Manchester, England; while Deanna was stealing her thunder back home.

  And it was all Tony’s fault for bringing her here in the first place, on this holiday that he’d booked behind her back as a ‘reward’ for all the hard work she’d been doing lately. The holiday she’d never even wanted, and hadn’t enjoyed one fucking bit!

  Screaming with frustration now, Melody snatched her glass of brandy off the bedside table and hurled it at the wall.

  In the lounge, Tony heard the sound of shattering glass and, fearing that Melody had had an accident, rushed in to see if she was all right.

  Stepping back when a piece of glass crunched under his shoe, he looked down at the shards embedded in the thick carpet, then up at the wet patch staining the expensive flock wallpaper as the brandy dripped slowly down.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he demanded, glaring at Melody, who looked like a madwoman, sitting in
the middle of the bed with her face a mess of tears and her hair all over the place. ‘Have you lost your fucking mind? I’ll have to pay for this.’

  ‘Good!’ she screamed, balling her hands into fists and slamming them down on her thighs. ‘You should pay for what you’ve done to me, you bastard!’

  ‘Keep it down,’ he barked, closing the door. ‘You want the whole fucking place to hear you?’

  ‘I don’t care!’ Melody wailed, snatching up a book and throwing it at him. ‘You’ve ruined my life!’

  Narrowing his eyes, Tony frowned deeply. She was acting crazy, and he didn’t have the first clue what was eating her.

  ‘I just spoke to Scotty,’ she yelled at him accusingly. ‘And guess fucking what, Tony? I didn’t get that part I was after!’

  ‘Is that it?’ he sneered. ‘You just cost me thousands, all because you didn’t get one fucking part?’

  ‘Is that it?’ she screeched, really blazing now. ‘Don’t you get it, Tony? I’m finished! They picked some big-titted long-legged freak who thinks she’s me – and it’s all your fault, because you kept me here when I should have been there!’

  ‘Aw, quit freaking out,’ Tony grunted, laughing at her now. ‘I told you you was no good from the start, but would you listen? No. So now you’re gonna have to feel what it’s like to hear it from the rest of the world.’

  ‘No good?’ Melody repeated incredulously. ‘What kind of crap is that? I’m great – everyone’s been saying it. I knocked them dead in that Clooney film!’

  ‘Aw, get over yourself,’ Tony shot back at her. ‘You’re an average actress, and it was an average film. Yeah, they was hyping you for a while, but only ’cos they had nothing better to do. Do you think they’d have forgot you so fast if you was great? Jolie could take ten years off, and they’d be lining up with their tongues hanging out if she said she wanted to come back. You’re away six weeks and they can’t even remember your name. Think about it.’

  ‘You got the hots for her, or something?’ Melody demanded jealously. ‘’Cos you sure sound like it – always comparing me to her. If she’d kept her fucking clothes on she wouldn’t be half as famous as she is, but I don’t suppose you care about that, do you?’

  ‘Clothes on, clothes off – who gives a shit?’ Tony replied scathingly. ‘Fact is, she’s got it, and you ain’t – not for the kind of acting you want to do, anyway. I always said you should stick to doing what you do best.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Melody hissed. ‘And there was me thinking you actually loved me. Well, I guess I know the truth now, don’t I? You don’t love no one but you. Well, that’s it, Tony. I’ve had it with you and your shit. First thing tomorrow, I’m going home – without you!’

  ‘No, you ain’t.’

  ‘Oh, right, so you’re allowed to do whatever you want but I’ve got to do what you tell me?’ Melody demanded. ‘That the way it works in your thick head?’

  Tony didn’t answer. He just stared at her with rapidly darkening eyes. A sure-fire warning that Melody was too fired-up to heed.

  ‘Well?’ she continued, thrusting her chin out at him, her eyes sparking with pure hatred. ‘That how you think it is with us, Tone? You do whatever the fuck you want, and I just go along with it – like all them fucking whores you used to be hooked up with?’

  ‘You remember what you was doing when I picked you up?’ Tony cut in quietly.

  ‘What’s that got to do with it?’ she spluttered. ‘Christ, Tony, have you any idea how sick I am of listening to your macho crap? I’ve been begging you to go home, but you’ve been so busy making friends with these up-your-ass morons round here, you don’t give a toss what you’re doing to my career. Well, you can go screw yourself if you think I’m staying now, ’cos I’m going home, and I’m gonna get my life back on track without you hanging round my neck like a flaming millstone.’

  ‘That right?’Tony snarled, losing patience now. ‘Let’s see how far you get without this, then, eh?’

  Marching to the dresser, he wrenched open the drawer and took out her passport. Slipping it into his back pocket, he looked around for her handbag.

  Guessing what he was thinking, Melody lunged across the bed, but Tony beat her to it. Shoving her roughly aside, he snatched the bag up off the floor and rifled through it until he found her credit-card wallet.

  ‘Give that back!’ Melody screamed, throwing herself at him and beating him with her fists. ‘That’s mine! You’ve got no right!’

  The punch sent her sprawling across the bed. Winded, she lay on her back, blood from her cut lip trickling down her cheek. Staring up at him with huge, terror-filled eyes when Tony came and stood over her, she held her breath.

  ‘Look what you done now,’ he said, his voice deceptively soft as he unzipped his fly. ‘Gone and got me all worked up.’

  ‘You can’t be serious?’ she gasped when he flopped his dick out and started rubbing it. ‘You can’t expect me to sleep with you after what you just did?’

  ‘What makes you think I’m asking?’

  ‘You can’t force me. Eddie’s out there.’

  ‘And what’s he gonna do?’ Tony gave a nasty laugh. ‘He don’t give a flying fuck about you. Anyway, you think he’s never heard me putting a smart-mouthed bitch back in her place before?’

  ‘But I’m not like the others,’ Melody cried. ‘You said I was special.’

  ‘You was till a minute ago,’ Tony said, shoving her legs apart.

  ‘No!’ Melody yelled, struggling with him as he climbed on top of her. ‘Pack it in, you twisted bastard! I don’t want you to touch me. I hate you! You make me sick!’

  Grabbing her hair with one hand, Tony forced her head down into the mattress and gave her a couple of hard slaps. Bringing his face down then, until their noses were touching, he hissed through clenched teeth, ‘Make you sick, do I? Well, what do you think your moaning and whining does to me? You think you’re so fucking special, but you’re a demanding, talentless, money-grabbing, pig-thick whore, who’s only ever been good for one thing – and you ain’t even so good at that no more!’

  Realising that she’d pushed him way too far, Melody stopped struggling and gazed tearfully up into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Tony,’ she murmured in a tiny remorseful voice. ‘I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out because I was mad at you about that film. It’s my fault.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ he snarled. ‘And so’s this, ’cos you should learn to zip it when you’re told to. You was nothing but a whore when I found you – a filthy little tramp who spread her legs for any cunt who had the price of a wrap of smack. I took you away from all that and turned you into something decent, and you repay me by telling me I make you sick?’

  Crying for real now, Melody held on to Tony’s wrists to ease the pressure of his grip on her hair.

  ‘Please, Babe, I don’t want to fight. I swear I didn’t mean it. You’ve been good to me, and I don’t deserve you, but you know I love you, don’t you? You’re the only one I’ve ever loved. And I haven’t looked at anyone else in the whole time I’ve been with you, so that’s got to tell you something.’

  ‘You couldn’t be stupid enough to look at no one else while you’re with me.’

  ‘And I haven’t.’ Reaching out, Melody stroked his cheek. ‘You’re everything I’ve ever needed or wanted. Please, hon . . . let’s just forget this ever happened and get back to how we were before.’

  Breathing hard, Tony peered dark and deep into her eyes. ‘Yeah, all right, I’ll forget it, but I’d best not hear any more shit about going home, ’cos it ain’t happening – not till I say so. And before you get any smart ideas about running away,’ he said then, his voice so low that she could barely hear him, ‘just remember that I bought and paid for every inch of this body. And this . . .’ He gripped her face and squeezed it hard. ‘All mine. And nothing that’s mine gets away from me till I’m good and ready for it to be gone. You got that?’

  Wincing with pain
, Melody nodded.

  ‘Good girl.’ Smiling nastily, Tony let go of her face and patted her cheek hard. Pushing himself up then, he got off her and zipped himself up.

  Sitting up gingerly, Melody watched as he walked to the dressing table and straightened his clothes. Then, opening a tub of wet-look gel, he slicked his hair back.

  ‘Are you going out?’ she asked, sure that this would all be over if she could just get him to come to bed.

  ‘Yep.’ Splashing on aftershave now.

  ‘Do you have to?’

  ‘Don’t know how long I’ll be gone,’ Tony said, as if she hadn’t even spoken. ‘Don’t wait up.’

  Lying down when she’d heard him and Eddie leave, Melody let the tears of self-pity slide down her cheeks. She’d always prided herself on succeeding in taming him where his other women had failed, but she’d been stupid to confront him like that – and really, really stupid to tell him that she was leaving, because that was a red rag to a bull with a control freak like Tony. If only she’d kept her mouth shut, she could have waited for the right opportunity and sneaked away. But he would never let her have her cards and passport back now that the battle lines had been drawn.

  And there was nothing she could do about it, because nobody could help her. Not Eddie. Definitely not Fabian. And it was more than her life was worth to even think about involving the police. All she could do was carry on acting the loving, doting girlfriend until Tony trusted her again – however long that took. And she might as well forget getting her career back on track, because if it wasn’t already over it sure as hell would be by the time she escaped – if she ever did.

  ‘She all right?’ Eddie asked as he and Tony headed down to the car park where the taxi they had ordered was waiting.

  ‘She’s fucking lucky, is what she is,’ Tony grunted. ‘But I got more important things to think about right now. That call I got just before she kicked off? That was Ronson saying the Feds have just pulled Zorba in, and they got the Johnson brothers as prosecution witnesses.’

  ‘Might be a good time to make the money disappear,’ Eddie muttered, holding the door open for him. ‘While the heat’s on and no one’s looking too hard.’