Live, Love, and Cry

by George B Mair

  ‘But it must be,’ said the girl desperately. ‘You were giving it to Dad for his work. And you told me yourself it was urgent. Too hot to keep, I think you said.’

  ‘So help me, girl, I’ll tan your pants if you don’t shut up,’ snapped Grant. ‘Concentrate on things that matter. Does this Carol Anne dame know where your old man is or does she not?’

  Carol Anne laughed. It was a throaty chuckle of a laugh which seemed to start somewhere deep down behind her breastbone and ended by rumbling and echoing between her strong white teeth. ‘She doesn’t. Not really. But he might be in Greece. You’ve worked with him there. So why not try Dr. Salamos?’

  Grant marked up a mental point. The girl knew something. Something more than she should. ‘Because Carpenter told me only ten days ago that he wasn’t going back. Salamos wasn’t paying enough. No dough, no dope, he said. And that makes sense to me.’ He caught Carol Anne firmly by the shoulders. ‘You play ball with me and I’ll play ball with you, beautiful. Where is he?’

  ‘Sure I’ll play ball with you,’ grinned Carol Anne. ‘I like ball games. But I don’t know where Carpenter is. Greece was just my first bet.’

  ‘Then cover it up for losses,’ snapped Grant. ‘Salamos and Carpenter have fallen out. Where else would he go? The Prof didn’t let his right hand know what his left was doing and not even Deirdre or me have a clue where to look. Has he lost his memory or something?’

  ‘Maybe or something,’ said Carol Anne. And then she lifted another cigarette. ‘Like reefers?’

  Grant shook his head. ‘I’m a cigar man myself. But don’t let me spoil the fun.’

  ‘How about you, chicken?’ The girl handed a cigarette to Deirdre and smiled. ‘Or are you scared?’

  Deirdre met Grant’s eyes and shook her head. ‘Not scared. Just careful. Reefers don’t go well with my complexion.’

  ‘To hell with your complexion, Deirdre. David says he’s with you for kicks. Let’s see you kickin’, chicken. And, anyhow,’ she added curtly, ‘I got the stuff from your old man. A hundred grains of Mary Jane. And I’m down to the last twenty. So consider yourself flattered.’ She pressed a bell and a young coloured girl entered the room. ‘My au pair,’ explained Carol Anne. ‘Tell the gang to join us in here. Big-biz talk.’ She looked curiously at Deirdre. ‘Go on. Be your age. No one took harm with one reefer. And then if I feel like it I’ll tell you where I think Carpenter is hiding out. And why,’ she added softly.

  ‘Then that’s a deal.’ Grant slapped Deirdre on the back. ‘C’mon, girl. Light up. Uncle David’ll see you home later. And tomorrow we’ll find Father.’

  The girl lifted the cigarette and slowly lighted it from Carol Anne’s platinum-covered lighter. ‘Well now, Carol. Where’s Dad?’

  Carol Anne shrugged her shoulders. ‘Finish your smoke, popsy, and then we’ll talk business. If there’s one thing I like better than another it’s corrupting the young.’

  A crowd of men and women arrived and she grinned broadly. ‘Meet the gang. Hank, Jim, Peter and Lou, with Titty Wise from Beirut, Mary from Edinburgh and Marion from the airport. So that makes a nice round ten. And gang meet Deirdre and David. The two Ds looking for a lost papa. Remember? Carpenter, the nut who used to come here weekends.’

  Grant waved an airy greeting. ‘Pleased to meet you, gang, even although it’s only in the way of business.’

  ‘Business nothing,’ snapped Carol Anne. ‘First fun and then we can think about playing hide-and-seek with Carpenter. But stuff some of that into your cigar. This is strictly a dope session. And if you’re going to be one of us you can behave like one of us. Get it?’

  Lou sauntered over and stood in front of Grant. ‘You heard what the lady said, David. So hows about obliging.’ The man’s accent was corrupt American and his eyes were colder than flint, but Grant saw that his hands were sensitive as a woman’s.

  Moving effortlessly he placed his hand against Lou’s face and pushed with the controlled violence of a shot-putter. The man catapulted backwards. The edge of a settee caught him behind the knees and he doubled up as though he had been pole-axed. ‘That for you, Lou,’ said Grant politely, as the man collapsed beside Deirdre. ‘But I smoke when I feel like it. And right now I want a drink. So where’s the Clanrana?’

  ‘Cut it out, Lou,’ shouted Carol Anne as the man stumbled to his feet and blundered towards Grant. ‘David was just defending his rights. But he’ll have a sniff later. Won’t you, David?’

  Grant folded her into his arms and kissed her on each cheek. ‘Sure. Sure,’ he repeated, ‘but I’d like a Clanrana.’

  Carol looked puzzled. ‘Never heard of it, David. Tell me more.’

  He smiled quietly and watched every face in the room in the ten seconds that it took him to explain. ‘Clanrana is the best Scottish liqueur in existence. Made by someone in Glasgow. I drink it once a month in the Salutation Hotel, Perth. Great stuff. Better than Drambuie. And I feel like one now.’

  He guessed that everyone was half doped and that several were half drunk as well, but none of them rose to the fly. Marion, a red-head whom he remembered seeing at the airport departure lounge a year earlier, was teetering on her feet and Mary from Edinburgh had eyes which glinted like diamonds. Titty Wise from Beirut was the only one who looked as though she knew what she was doing and three of the men were drawing heavily at long slim reefers which Grant guessed held at least five grains of hashish.

  ‘I’ve heard of Clanrana,’ said Titty Wise calmly. ‘There’s a café in Piraeus sells it.’ She slinked over to Grant and leaned against his shoulder. ‘Like me to bring you a bottle next trip?’

  ‘What d’you mean, next trip?’ asked Grant, as he allowed his hand to drop over her breast and saw that the others were watching like hawks. Jim and Peter were breathing heavily and Marion was now sitting on Hank’s knee, his hand resting lightly on her thigh. The record-player was still running in the next room and a Cilla Black number was making Peter start to twist.

  Titty Wise snuggled closer against his arm. ‘I’m an air hostess. Lou is pilot and Hank makes out as navigator.’

  Grant smiled broadly. That explained the sensitive hands. And it might explain even more. ‘Then put me down for a bottle of that hooch next trip and I’ll see you Sunday if you’re in the U.K.’

  She shook her head. ‘Two weeks. And then I’ll be ready for you.’

  ‘If you aren’t ready for him now,’ interrupted Carol Anne. Her legs were beating to the insistent music and she was sidling towards the middle of the floor.

  Grant saw that Deirdre was reacting well. Her eyes were brighter than usual but her voice was controlled and her hands steady as she worked her way through the doped cigarette. And then: ‘I want a Pimm Number One,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Now look, honey,’ he interrupted, ‘you know you don’t mix dope with booze. Be reasonable.’

  ‘You’re with her for kicks,’ drawled Carol Anne, ‘remember? And that fag was stuffed with enough Mary Jane to keep her kicking till dawn.’

  Grant forced a laugh. He could bring things to an end any time he chose by using one of the gas bombs in his shoes. And then the party would wonder what had really hit it. Though if this was the key to Carol Anne’s heart then Deirdre would have to see it through. But if any man made a pass at her God help him.

  ‘C’mon, handsome,’ said Carol Anne. ‘Have a twist. Or whatever this music is saying. All it means is show your legs and bob your front and your halfway to home.’

  ‘The Pimm,’ said Deirdre softly. ‘I want a Pimm more than I want anything on earth and if I don’t get it I’m going to beat this symphony in chrome to hell. I don’t like chrome. And I don’t like plastic. But I like Pimm.’ She pulled Grant’s jacket and urged him down beside her. ‘Number One,’ she said softly. ‘Pimm Number One for Deirdre and then Deirdre is going to do a flat spin.’

  ‘Seems the little lady’s lit up,’ said Lou calmly. ‘Must be her first time. But, boy, I’m a cocaine man myself. You cigar
s. Me snow.’

  He fumbled in a hip pocket, produced a tiny snuff-box and poured a pinch of powder on to the back of his thumb. ‘Like some?’ he asked. ‘Hits you like a bomb.’

  Grant again forced a laugh, but nodded. As the powder piled on his finger he watched the mocking smile in Lou’s eyes and grinned. ‘First time lucky,’ he said briefly, and raised it to his nose. As he sniffed into each nostril he hoped that they were all too plastered to see that most of it dropped up his sleeve. But even so a particle or two tickled his nostrils and he suddenly sneezed.

  Lou smacked him roughly on the back. ‘Bloody good, David,’ he said seriously. ‘Bloody, bloody good. Real sport. And how’s about us swapping partners tonight? Titty’s got her eyes on you and boy what that dame can’t do in a bed ain’t worth doin’.’

  Grant allowed himself to sway slightly. ‘Deirdre’s mine,’ he snapped. ‘Mine from top to toe with everything in between.’ He paused and then grinned foolishly. ‘Try your strength. Winner gets Deirdre.’ He put his elbow on the table and pointed to Lou. ‘Let’s try, Lou. Grip for grip and one touchdown means the winner.’

  The pilot dropped his jacket, sat down opposite Grant, laid his elbow and forearm side by side with Grant’s and grasped his hand. For a long half-minute they stared at one another, gently easing one way or the other, then Lou suddenly forced his grip downwards. Grant yielded for a split second, recovered, squeezed the man’s fingers in a grip which could almost have broken bone and pressed with every ounce of his strength. Titty Wise was watching him dead-pan, and even Hank stopped playing with Marion’s calves as Lou’s forearm was forced sideways and down until the back of his hand almost touched the table. The man’s face was suffused purple and his eyes blazing with anger.

  ‘Another for you,’ drawled Grant as he relaxed and stepped towards Deirdre.

  The girl was still in her chair, but her eyes were sparkling with the effects of the drug and her hands moving restlessly against her knees. ‘Please, David. Pimm. Just one little drink for Deirdre!’

  ‘Better give it to her, David,’ said Carol Anne briefly. ‘Sometimes makes them thirsty’

  ‘Then she can stick to water,’ snapped Grant. ‘The girl’s had enough. So lay off.’

  Carol smiled thinly. ‘A heck of a party this, since you two arrived! How about a dance, then?’

  A Beatle number was now crashing out from the stereophonic record-player, and Carol hitched her tight skirt above her knees as she started an impromptu shuffle beside Grant. ‘C’mon, handsome, let’s show the kickin’ chicken what kicks mean.’

  Grant hesitated only for a second and then took off his jacket. If they wanted to het up the party it might, in the end, lead to something, and the sooner he had Deirdre back safely in the Marine, the happier he would be. But first her father’s ‘factory’. If anyone knew the address! He rated as a better-than-average amateur dancer and was soon swinging everything, playing it off the cuff like so many others things in his life. The rhythm was infectious. Marion slid from Hank’s knee and started to do the Shake while Lou lazed unsteadily across the room and began a weird belly-dance beside Titty Wise.

  The girl watched him coldly and slipped off her blouse and skirt. Then with two swift movements she wriggled out of her skin-tight girdle and adjusted her pants before throwing everything she had into the most expert belly-dance Grant had ever seen. Her buttock muscles beat in quivering tempo with the music and her long recti abdomini contracted almost like a Yogi as she pulled in her belly wall, relaxed and shot it out in reverse tempo to the rhythm of her drumming buttocks and thighs.

  Jim had gripped his reefer between his teeth and tried to follow her movements, while Peter was beating time with his hands, gypsy style, and smacking Marion’s bottom with every fourth beat. The music throbbed with deadly insistence until even Deirdre sprang from her chair, and leaning forward from the waist, broke into a Twist with variations which gave glimpses of tanned thigh and gleaming suspender clips as she became more excited and loaded it with everything she had.

  ‘For God’s sake!’ gasped Carol as the music abruptly faded, ‘that was really something. Or were you all watching Titty and David?’

  Lou’s eyes flashed with jealousy. ‘Who is this guy David, anyhow?’

  Carol smiled at him patiently. ‘A friend of Carpenter, luvvie. Remember? The nut that used to bring you so much work. The genius that keeps us girls safe when we’re playing ball games with strong men like you, luvvie. Remember?’

  Lou became obstinate. ‘But who is he, Carol? The guy’s accent is BBC la-di-da. And he thinks he’s God’s ruddy gift to women. But that apart who is he?’

  Grant smacked Lou on the back. ‘Remember dumping that stuff for Carpenter? Well, I’m the guy that made it.’

  Lou looked at him suspiciously. ‘What stuff, buster?’

  It was a long shot. But maybe not so long, because Lou was a pilot and Grant refused to believe in too many coincidences. One pilot was enough and Lou fitted the bill.

  Titty Wise laughed aloud. ‘Cut it out, Lou. David’s on the level. Deirdre Carpenter wouldn’t sell her father down the river and David knows you’re a pilot.’

  Lou relaxed and drew out his snuff-box again. ‘Have another sniff, David, and then we’ll have a round of Prestwick Roulette. Okay?’

  Deirdre grinned foolishly. ‘I can’t move, David. I’m stuck to this chair and the place is filled with funny lights. But for God’s sake get me a Pimm!’

  ‘Not on your life,’ grinned Peter. ‘You’re going to play roulette like the rest of us and then it’s bedtime for all the boys and girls.’ He looked at the other four men. ‘C’mon, chaps. Form a circle. We’re on the inside tonight.’

  Titty Wise was playing another record and smiling from ear to ear as the au pair girl knocked at the door and walked in. ‘You do the switching off and on as usual, Gerda,’ she drawled. ‘Tonight’s going to be a real party.’

  Carol Anne stubbed out a cigarette and joined hands with Marion and Mary. ‘Up, Deirdre,’ she said briefly. ‘And if you don’t know the rules, they are jolly simple. Every time the music stops you peel something off. Mass strip-tease to music. The last one standing with something on has first choice of partner for a ball game later. Savvy?’

  Grant fingered his shoes and checked that the heels swivelled perfectly. He had learned almost enough now to guess that Lou was the pilot, but he was still after a clue to Carpenter’s business address where he made the stuff. And did any of these sex maniacs or dope-addicts tie up with SATAN? That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, but as soon as he knew the answers the others would wonder what hit them. He thanked Fate that the Admiral had said enough about Prestwick Roulette to enable him to come prepared. ‘Right, Deirdre,’ he forced a smile. ‘Join the gang.’

  The girl stared at him for a second and then hoisted herself to her feet. ‘What you say,’ she said briefly, and grabbed Mary’s hand. Titty completed the circle and then the au pair girl switched on while the two circles cha-cha-cha-ed or shuffled in time to the rhythm, but in opposite directions.

  And then Grant saw the au pair switch off the music. He was opposite Titty and grinned as she offhandedly unclipped her bra. ‘See why she’s got that nickname?’ drawled Hank. ‘Finest tits in Europe. Life ain’t worth living till you get wise to them.’

  Hank had dropped a tie, Peter had unbuttoned his cardigan, Lou and Jim kicked off their shoes, while Grant slipped off his lightweight sweater and the girls dropped their stockings. Gerda, the au pair girl, was smiling cynically and then abruptly she switched the record back on.

  Less than ten seconds later it stopped and the girls wriggled out of skirts or slips while the men pulled off shirts, ties or socks.

  And after another five rounds things were becoming critical.

  It was a Black and White Minstrel record and the George Mitchell singers were beating out ‘Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey’ when Carol Anne stepped out of her last garment. Deirdre was d
own to pants with bra, while Titty, with Mary, had been stark naked for two rounds and Marion had only one thing left to go. But the men were staring at Grant with mixed admiration and suspicion. ‘For crissake, David, you came prepared,’ said Hank unsteadily, as he lost his underpants. ‘Even got your shoes still on.’

  Grant smiled sarcastically. ‘I like winning things,’ he grinned, ‘and it’s me for Deirdre.’

  ‘You’re damn well going to see it through to the end, though,’ grinned Carol Anne. ‘You wouldn’t be so dirty as to let us all down now.’

  ‘Rules are simple,’ drawled Grant, ‘when one guy’s left with somep’n on, then he chooses his partner. Right?’

  Carol shrugged her shoulders. ‘Okay, handsome. But, s’help me, nex’ time I do a roulette with you I’ll be wearing ten pairs o’ nylons and a dozen bras.’

  ‘You couldn’t get into them,’ said Jim patiently. ‘Don’t make ’em tha’ size.’

  ‘’Cept for Titty.’ Jim was unsteady on his legs and Grant guessed that the company was beginning to get dangerous. At that stage, after a couple or more reefers and several shots of alcohol, just about anything could happen.

  ‘So you’re for Deirdre,’ said Lou coldly. ‘Well, I’m f’r Deirdre too, Buster.’

  Marion shrieked with laughter. ‘That’s an idea. A party. One big bubbly party. Same as we had wi’ Deirdre’s daddy las’ month. Remember? ‘S’n idea, isn’t it, gang?’

  ‘I w’s stark first, gang. Remember? So I get first choice of men. An’ I’m f’r David too. D’ye mind, handsome?’ Titty’s interruption took them by surprise and Carol Anne laughed aloud.

  ‘She’s right, y’know, David. That’s the rule. So it looks as if you’re for a party. Deirdre and Titty with David and Lou. Any bets on who lasts longest? I’m putting ten grains o’the real stuff on David. Lou smokes too much. Undermines ’s constitution.’

  Mary giggled. ‘Titty undermined that months ago. Insati . . . in . . . instab . . . in-sat-i-able, that’s what she is.’ She tickled Grant in the ribs. ‘I’m backing you too, David. ’N’ if you win ’s partners nex’ time. Oke?’