He looked at her coldly. ‘And you think it’s best that two innocent young children should not be allowed to see their father.’
‘You’re twisting what I’m saying.’
‘I’m not twisting anything. I’m just repeating you.’ He thrust the flowers at her. ‘Take these – or perhaps you would prefer to throw them out like you would me.’
She accepted the flowers. ‘I’ll see if bathtime is finished.’
‘Can I have permission to go upstairs and see them in the bath?’ His voice was acid.
‘Of course.’
Stephen stood at the top of the stairs, scrubbed and clean in striped pyjamas. ‘Daddy!’ he yelled.
Linda heard the cry of joy downstairs. She glanced at her watch. It was six o’clock. Maybe she should call Jay and tell him she couldn’t keep their date. She felt so confused. David’s attitude toward her was so unfair. He acted as if the whole thing was her fault.
He came downstairs, Janey cuddled in his arms, Stephen clinging to his hand. He fetched the packages from the car, and the children yelled with excitement.
Linda shut the door of the living room and left them all together. She went upstairs and lay down on the bed. She had thought the most painful part of divorce was over, but when you have children, it’s never over. There’s always a small questioning voice – ‘Why doesn’t Daddy live here anymore? When can Daddy come back? Do you love Daddy?’
She tried to contact Jay. He was out.
After an hour she went downstairs. With a forced smile she said, ‘Come along – time for bed. School tomorrow.’
Stephen glared at her. ‘Oh, Mummy!’
Janey started to cry.
David said, ‘How about ten more minutes?’
‘Please, Mummy,’ Janey begged.
‘Oh, OK – but no longer.’ She glanced again at her watch. It was past seven, and Jay was due at eight. She didn’t want him and David to meet. She wished she could find Jay and put him off. Not that she wanted to, but she really didn’t feel like going out now.
After another twenty minutes the children were at last safely in bed with David reading them stories. By the time he came downstairs it was a quarter to eight. His mood was cordial. ‘I could do with a drink.’
She was nervous. She had a perfect right to go out on a date, but she instinctively knew David wouldn’t like it.
He poured himself a Scotch. ‘You know, Stephen’s a very bright lad. We must have a serious talk about his future.’
She pulled herself together. ‘Yes, we must, but not now. I have to get changed.’ Her voice became defiant. ‘I’m going out.’
‘That’s nice.’ There was a silence, then he added, ‘Pretty cushy life you’ve got.’
Her voice was controlled. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Well, you know, no worries, nice house. I foot all the bills, and you can just run around doing what you like.’
‘I don’t run around and you know it.’
‘Come off it. You’re an attractive woman, a divorcee. Any man knows he’s on to a good thing – a free lay is always popular. You must have dozens of offers. Why I bet—’
Her cheeks blazed. ‘Get out! Get out of here!’
He put his drink down calmly. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t try to tell me you’re not getting it.’
‘Please go, David. Right now.’
He sauntered to the door. ‘All right, all right, don’t get excited. I won’t hang around to mess up your date. I’ll get back to my hotel room – don’t worry about me, just have a good time.’
When he reached the front door, she slammed it in his face.
He climbed into his car angrily. Thoughtless bitch! She was as bad as Claudia. They were all the same, all bitches trying to grab you by the balls and squeeze everything out of you.
He drove around the block and then came back and parked a few houses away. May as well wait and see who she was going out with.
* * *
Jay was a few minutes late, but hardly enough for Linda to recover. He found her in tears.
‘I can’t go out,’ she sobbed.
He put his arm around her. She leaned her head against his chest and told him a jumbled account of what had happened.
He was sympathetic. ‘You must talk to your lawyer first thing tomorrow. You can get a court order to stop him bothering you – he has set times to see the kids, and he’ll have to stick to them.’
‘I just thought it would be so mean of me not to let him see the children.’
‘That’s how he wants you to feel. He’s probably had enough screwing around and decided to come back. His only way of getting at you is through the kids.’
‘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 i
n 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.
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