by Giles Ekins
The shows at Southend, and at Halifax in particular, Kings Lynn and Salisbury had been spectacular successes, when the blade drops and then Selene’s eyes open to ask the volunteer for a kiss, the stunned silence in every house is electric and in every case she resurrects in totally unexpected places, in the balcony, rear stalls, side exit, only once, in King’s Lynn, did she actually reappear on stage as scripted. Once Charlie’s act is over, many in the audience do not stay to see Billy Boy’s performance, further fuelling his resentments against Charlie.
The night of the Kings Lynn performance, 23 year old Samantha Bostwick, a bank teller at the Tuesday Market Place branch of Barclays Bank disappeared; she had been to see the show and was last seen by friends walking towards the Chapel Street car park where her car, a two year old Vauxhall Astra, was parked, ready to drive to the house in Fairstead which she shared with her boyfriend, Peter Baines. She apparently did not reach the car park and her car was discovered there later the following afternoon.
Despite emotional television appeals for information by both Peter Baines and her distraught parents and an extensive search by police, no trace of Samantha was found.
Almost four months later a headless female body, fully clothed, washed ashore on the beaches to the west of the small Dutch town of Scharendijke in the south of Holland. The body was badly decomposed after many weeks in the water and so identification proved impossible. The body was eventually released by the Dutch police and is buried in a local church with a simple headstone provided by the generosity of the townspeople which reads ‘Onze zuster, God bekend,’ ‘Our sister, known unto God’.
The show in Skegness was equally successful, even for Billy Boy as most of the audience did stay on to swatch him perform. He put on a good show, although to his disappointment, none of the ladies threw their panties at him.
Charlie was exuberant, ecstatic as he and Selene made their way back to his dressing room, he is bubbling; ready to bounce off the walls in his euphoric excitement, the adrenalin rush still sparking through his veins, a higher high than any drug can produce.
‘Did you see them, Selene, did you hear them? No, you couldn’t hear them, they’d stopped breathing, waiting for it.’ He took the top from his bottle of Jack Daniels, definitely his new best friend, offered it to Selene who refuses with shake of her head, it is the same ritual, every night he offers her a drink, every night she refuses with a shake of her head.
‘I had them here,’ he said after taking a long drink, holding out a clenched fist. ‘I had them here right here in the palm of my hand .Magic, fucking Magic. I could have kept them waiting for an hour, all night, a day, for fucking ever.’ He takes another drink. ‘When I took that rope to drop the blade, the whole theatre stopped breathing. Completely stopped breathing. They knew it was coming, knew what was about to happen but still but they stopped breathing, everyone of ‘em screwed up so high with the tension that if I’d turned around and said BOO they would’ve all shit themselves. In fact I’m not so sure that Barry the volunteer didn’t shit himself when you asked him for a kiss.’
Charlie twirls about the dressing taking Selene with him, his hands about her waist.
‘Las Vegas; here we come, baby,’ he exalts, swirling her around again. Selene pulls away as soon as possible, as if she finds his touch repulsive but Charlie seems not to notice. He sits down at his dressing table and starts to wipe off his stage make-up then reaches for the bottle of JD and shakes it, surprised to find it empty, tossing the empty bottle into the bin, ‘Another brave warrior fallen in the line of duty,’ he says, repeating the phrase that Billy Boy Benson had used that night in Southend. Another bottle waits patiently on the dressing table and Charlie cracks it open and takes another long drink from the bottle, ‘only pussy’s drink from a glass’ wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘I mean, did you fucking well SEE them? Open mouthed, just suspended there, transfixed, aye, that’s the word transfixed.’ He takes another drink. ‘Absolutely magic. Magic. And you were great an’ all. Selene,’ he says turning towards her, ‘what with the Virgin Snow Queen act, you had ‘em drooling, babe, so you did. There they were, willing for the blade to drop and take your head but at the same time they’re not wanting to harm you…Fan-fucking-tastic.’
Selene does not reply. She stands by the door, watching Charlie intently, her eyes wide open, as if he were an exhibit in a museum or a specimen under a slide. She does not blink or move, her face carries no expression and only the slight movement of her chest indicates that she is even alive.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Charlie shouts angrily, ‘Why won’t you ever talk to me? Why don’t you answer? For crying out loud, woman, I’d get more conversation from a fucking tailor’s dummy, waddy you call ‘em. Mannequins, aye, mannequins.’
‘What do you want me to say, Charlie? Yes, the show was very good, You were excellent tonight, Charlie, you really had them in the palm of your hand. I really thought tonight was the best show so far. Is that what you want me to say?’ and as she speaks she peels off her dress, lifting it over her head and dropping it to the floor. She is naked apart from the most minimalist of mini G-strings, little more than a piece of string. ‘Jesus,’ thinks Charlie, ‘I’ve had thicker shoe laces than that’, and it was obvious that Selene must shave her pubic hair. ‘Or do demons even have pubic hair?’ he wonders. Whatever, it left very little to the imagination and Charlie’s imagination was pretty fertile right now. Selene’s skin was flawless, not a single blemish, bruise, spot or scar or mole, just translucently flawless.
She leans over Charlie, her breasts swaying close to his face, takes some tissues and cold cream and begins to wipe the name ‘Barry’ from her forehead and the rest of the makeup from her face.
‘Are you taking the piss? Shit I don’t know, I want some kind of…communication. Some kind of…human response, every day chit-chat, stuff like that, even what was on telly last night, something, anything. Some kind of human reaction. Human, human, human, human, human,’ hammering his fist onto the dressing table every time he says human,’ his voice rising with each blow, then he slumps back into his chair, reaching for the bottle ‘It’s like being locked up with a fucking blow-up doll, except I don’t even get my rocks off with it, Jesus wept, it’s bloody frustrating.’
‘Is that what this is all about? Sex?’ Selene asks, dropping used tissue into the waste bin and taking up another handful, dabbing cold cream on her face again.
‘No! Yes, Aye, of course that has something to do with it, I mean you walk around in here all but bare ass naked half the time, look at you now, flashing you tits and fanny about as if they’re going out of style. God knows, you are not exactly the ugliest fucking thing walking this earth, correction; you are not exactly the ugliest non-fucking thing on this earth. Shit, of course I’ve got desires, I would want you sexually, any man would, you are stunningly… sexy, and I tell you as a man, I find you a whole lot sexier than your evil pal Lilywhite Lilith.’
‘Thank you, but I know that is not true, Lilith is alluring, voluptuous, captivating, charismatic and …experienced in the ways of men. Which I am not.’
‘And I think that is your problem, I think that you are as frustrated as hell, all the ice-queen virgin bit. I think a good shag would do you the world of good, straighten out all your kinks. And wouldn’t do me no harm neither.’ Charlie gets up and goes to the bathroom, urinates and then comes back with a wet flannel to wipe his face and neck. ‘But no,’ he continues, ‘it is not just about sex. It’s…I want to be able to talk about it, the show, to re-live it, take it to pieces, get some feedback, even a bollocking if I get it wrong,’ as I used to get with Clarrie, oh Clarrie darling, where are you now when I need you most ‘to get some inter-action. As well as some inter-course…of course. I want…’ Charlie screws up his fists with, the frustration of not being able to fully express himself. ‘I want to be working with a normal human being in a normal human relationship, and yes, sex does come into that. I
’m not a fucking monk, is that so hard to understand?’
‘No of course not. You are a man of needs, I can see that. But you know that we cannot, that we cannot have sex. You know what Mr. Tchort has said, I have to remain a virgin.’
‘Fuck Tchort,’ Charlie retorts savagely.
‘Now that might be permitted,’ Selene says with a thin smile, as if surprised at her own humour.
‘A joke! Wonders will never cease, the Ice-queen cracked a joke.’
‘If you want sex, there are many girls, that is not a problem.’
‘Pimping now, are we?’
‘No but there are many girls, groupies, you know this. They come backstage to see the artistes. There are some here now, backstage, mostly older, to see Billy Boy I suppose although I cannot see why, he is far older than you and not a gentleman, He is, I think a pig, but there are some others, younger. I will bring one for you. A nice one. To fuck.’
‘And what will you do? Watch? Like you did with Lilith?’
‘If you wish.’
‘No, I don’t wish.’
‘OK, wait.’ Selene crosses over to the wardrobe and dresses quickly in leans and t-shirt. She does not put on a bra. Does she ever wear a bra? Charlie wonders. Slipping on a pair of open toes sandals she silently slips out of the dressing room like a wraith. There have always been groupies, Charlie reflects, right from the days of ancient Rome when high borne ladies would visit gladiators in their cells underneath the Coliseum and probably even earlier than that and he has by no means been immune to their attentions over the years but one night stands had never much appealed, a quick fuck or blow job and then goodbye, another notch on her bedstead, another notch on his dick. For what? He much preferred longer term relationships, not love, not marriage but companionship; genuine affection, he wanted to be friends with the girls he went to bed with. But, when no friends were on the scene, needs must.
As he waits, feeling strangely nervously excited, he tries to remember when last he had a woman. There seemed to be large gaps in his memory, it feels almost as though he has been in hibernation since the recording of the show back in March. He remembers that all right, who could forget that triumph?
And afterwards, still pumped with adrenalin, he did invite Poppy from Liverpool for a drink, which she accepted, giving Geriko Vorpalsnake a forlorn look as they leave the studio together. They had a pleasant drink in the V & A lounge bar in the Victoria and Albert Marriott hotel where both he and Selene were staying, just across the way from the studios (no expense spared by Mr. Tchort, Charlie was pleased to note)
Poppy just wants to talk. ‘I know,’ she says, ‘that Geriko is gay,’ that he has no interest in her in any way, but as stupid as it sounds she is in love with him and is firmly convinced she can bring him ‘back’ from the dark side (the brown side?), although that is not exactly how she put it. ‘I’m sure I can make him see me as a woman, to want me as a woman.’ she says forcefully, as if trying to convince herself.
Charlie tries to tell her it is a lost cause, that most gays do not turn. ‘It’s the way they are, pet. It’s not an illness you can cure, it’s inherent, part of their nature, they are born that way’ but she is not convinced. The bar gets busy and noisy and Charlie, with no real expectation that she will agree, suggests they go up to his room ‘where it is quieter’ for another drink and continue their chat. ‘OK,’ she answered, and takes his hand as they walk across the lobby to the elevators.
Charlie mixes her another drink from the mini-bar; she’s a vodka and tonic girl, whilst he has a Chivas Regal. They sit companionably on the bed, she finishes her drink and suddenly bursts into to tears, it has been welling up all evening and now it simply bursts out of her. Charlie takes her in his arms to comfort her and the rest as they say, is history. As Charlie suspected, Poppy from Liverpool did scrub up nicely and a pleasant time was had by both, she was no blushing virgin that was for sure.
In the morning, she gives Charlie a big kiss of thanks, ‘I’ve been thinking and I think it best if I try to move on., I know now I can’t change him, I might still love him, I do, I’m sure I do, at least I think I do, but the best, I think, is if I can get a job somewhere else, maybe London perhaps ?’ she asks hopefully, looking up at Charlie but he just gives her a noncommittal answer, ‘I don’t think I’m the right guy for you to get entangled with, pet, too many inner demons.’ And too many outer ones for that matter.
And to the best of Charlie’s befuddled fogged up memory, that was the last time he was with a girl.
He takes another drink, cradling the bottle, and his mood changes as the adrenalin subsides and he begins to wonder why his success tastes so sour. ‘it should be triumphal, but it all tastes like dog-shit, my life’s not my own and it’s what comes after that life that scares me to death,’ and he takes another drink, seemingly the only comfort in life that remains…
Selene returns, bringing with her a girl, hard to put an age to her, sixteen eighteen, twenty even. She’s pretty enough but she looks shop worn. Well used. She is blonde, but probably not naturally so, she wears a tight pale blue sweater over small breasts, a short navy skirt, much too short as she does not have the legs to carry it, white strappy open toed shoes with thick soles and wedge heels, which Charlie suspects are not the height of current fashion.
‘Charlie, this is Sandra, she wants to see you.’ Selene says, and then leaves, quietly closing the dressing room door behind her. Charlie looks up, sunk in his morose thoughts.
‘Hi,’ he says at last, ‘I’m Charlie.’
‘Actually I came to see Billy Boy, din’t know he was this old guy, I don’t go with old guys, don’t seem right somehow.’
‘I’m old,’ and feeling older, Methuselah you’ve got competition, the way I feel.
‘Nah. You don’t look too bad, I mean really old guys, over forty and that, well past it. Me and my mate Chrissie, we always try to go with the top of the bill, but Chrissie couldn’t come tonight, she’s got a cold or something. Some old biddy with saggy tits got in to see Billy, not that I would have gone in anyway,’ but she gets no response. ‘Probably somebody he fucked here thirty years ago, first time around,‘ Charlie thinks sourly.
‘Don’t say much, do you Charlie, cat got your tongue?’
‘What, no sorry, love, just a bit tired, that’s all. You don’t need to stay if you don’t want to.’
‘It speaks,’ Sandra exclaims, ‘No. you’re OK, just look a bit sad, is all. Don’t worry ‘bout that, I’ll soon cheer you up.’ Sandra looks around the dressing room, sees Selene’s stage dress on the floor and picks it up, smells the light perfume and lays it carefully over the back of a chair. ‘Nice’ she says, stroking it smooth. “You’re the conjuror, aren’t you? You cut that girl’s head off on stage, don’t you, I read about that in the papers. You don’t do it for real though, do you; it’s just lighting and that?’
‘Aye, lass, just lighting, smoke and mirrors.’ aye and I wish to God it was just that.
‘Just read about it, I don’t hardly ever come to the shows much, not unless it’s a dead good group and face it, you don’t get too many dead good groups want to come here, do you, just aging tossers like Billy Boy. No. I just come back stage.’
‘Just come back stage? Charlie asks, he has not really been listening, still wrapped in his introspections.
‘Yeah, back stage, me and Chrissie, what you might call star fuckers; ’cept you don’t get to many big stars here, just ancient has-beens and never-was-beens.’ Aye and aging illusionists with souls mortgaged to the Devil’ Still, we had ‘Nausea’ playing her once, man they was wild, we went back to their hotel and Skunk the drummer filmed it, me and Chrissie, if my Dad ever saw it, he’d of flay me alive, straight up he would.’
Charlie checks the time, it’s getting late, ‘Your Dad, he’s knows you’re out late?’
‘Nah, come ten he’s pissed out of his brain and fast asleep on the sofa, snoring his head off., snores like pig, he does and me Mam, well she�
��s OK about things, she thinks I’m at Chrissie’s, I mean, she don’t know I do this,’ and she shrugs and puffed out her cheeks and then grimaced, revealing a set of badly stained teeth.
She points at the bottle of Jack Daniels in Charlie’s hand. ‘Talking of which, you aren’t going to give me a drink or nothing?’ and Charlie, rather ungraciously passes her the bottle. She takes a swig and wipes her mouth and hands the bottle back.
‘How about you, ‘Charlie asks, ‘You got a job?’ just for something to say, almost if he is trying to postpone the inevitable.
‘No, there are sod all jobs in this dump, least not for girls like me, left school at 16, no GCE’s or nothing. Summer jobs in a bar, maybe, but minimum wage? Why bother? No I’m better off on benefits. Got a kid, Emily, she’s near two now, me Mum, takes care of her when I’m out. Fuck knows who the father is, though.’
‘Emily, nice name,’ Charlie responds distantly.
‘Anyhow, what you doin’ with me in here, not that I mind, I mean, but you got your own tart, aincha?’ touching Selene’s silky stage dress again. ‘You into threesomes, or what, kinky stuff?’
‘You mean, Selene? No she’s just part of the act. Nothing else.’ ‘Apart from being a demon spawn of the Devil that is’
‘But you’d like her to be, eh? I mean she’s beautiful, isn’t she? Drop dead beautiful.’
‘Don’t much like the choice of words, drop dead beautiful but.’ ‘Yes, she is.’