Her American Classic (Part 2)

by G J Morgan

  “Frank I’d rather… ”

  “I’m not asking here. I’m telling. Now where we going?”

  “The only place she’s felt safe,” I said, both of us heading towards the door.

  32

  “I recognize this place.” Frank pointed through the glass towards a blur of sky and ocean.

  “You’ve never been here. Well, at least not with Lilly.” I noticed Frank’s smirk. “I can see why it’s familiar. You were just over there,” I said, pointing behind us. “Bantham Beach. You were all quite hungover if I remember correctly.”

  “And where were you when all this was going on?”

  “Behind some sand dunes initially. Though after a while I got brave, at one point I was pretty much next to you.” Frank looked pissed. “How would you have known I was paparazzi? I just looked like everyone else.”

  “That’s no excuse. I get paid to know, not to sleep on a beach with a sore head whilst some mad fucker gets close enough to do something silly.”

  “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”

  “Others would. There’s a lot of bad people out there. People who aren’t all there upstairs. Obsessives, stalkers.”

  “I used to be a tour guide. I’ve met quite a few fanatics up close.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. I’ve seen the things they write, what they ask her to do, the threats.”

  “You can get restraining orders, surely?”

  “And you think that will stop them? These people aren’t bothered by legalities. Some don’t even value their own lives let alone someone else’s privacy rights.”

  “And Lilly has fans like that?”

  “Course she has. They all have. I just have to make sure that the Oswalds and the Chapmans of this world never get close.”

  “I’m no maniac.”

  “But I have to assume everyone else might be. Or assume there are people capable of doing such things.”

  “Doesn’t sound a nice way to live. To live in fear.”

  “In her profession, it’s the only way.”

  “Then she’s in the wrong profession.”

  I pulled into the top of the hill, parked the Jeep, turned off the engine. Burgh Island hotel straight out the windscreen.

  “You think she’s there?” Frank sniffed.

  “If she’s still in Devon it’s the only place I could imagine she would be.” I looked over the rows of roofs. “Can’t see her car though.”

  “If she’s in Devon, that is. Or England for that matter. Have you rung the hotel?”

  “No. But we could try.”

  I got my wallet, trying to find the telephone number.

  “What shall I say? Does she just use her name or something more creative?”

  “Creative?”

  “When she books hotels. Y’know, like Mrs Quack, Dixie Normous.”

  “No, she doesn’t do that I assure you. I don’t think any self-respecting adult would do that.”

  “What then? Goldie Hawn? Monroe?”

  “You’re asking the wrong guy. I’d just try her name. Goodridge or Goodmanson.”

  I found the number, dialled it and rang.

  * * *

  “What they say? I take it that was a firm no?” Frank said, finishing his cigarette.

  I nodded.

  “Let’s take a walk over there anyway.”

  “What time is it?”

  Frank checked his watch. “Seventeen forty-seven hours.”

  “What?”

  “Nearly six.”

  “We better move quick. Before the tide comes in. If we’re quick we can walk across. You want to borrow my jacket? I’ve a spare one in the boot, weather looks like it’s turning nasty.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Frank slammed the door. “I’m used to colder.” He was already off across the car park.

  I’d found some change in my pocket, put the ticket inside the windscreen before catching up with Frank. He was already at the bottom the steps, hands on hips as he surveyed a deserted beach. Footprints led the way from mainland to the hotel, many had walked across the wet sand today, but we would be the last. The tide was nearly in, the pathway of puddles and footsteps that would soon be seabed.

  “Beautiful, isn’t she?” I said. We both looked out across, the hotel lit up, majestic and grand.

  “Pretty special,” said Frank as he took off his shoes, rolled up his trousers to his knee.

  “What’s Goodmanson? Like a code name?” as I did the same.

  “It’s her real name, dumbass.”

  “I take it someone didn’t like Goodmanson too much?”

  “A bit too Helter Skelter for some.”

  “And there was me thinking I knew Lilly inside and out.”

  “Well, Joe Friday,” Frank smiled. “Looks like we’re both screw-ups. Let’s make a move before we sink or drown.”

  We walked in silence. The wind was against us, whistling, our eyes squinted, our mouths covered.

  “You said Lilly tried to jump? Was that true?” Frank asked through the muffle of his scarf.

  “Yes.”

  Both of us were shouting to be heard over the weather.

  “And you stopped her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “Not straight away.”

  “What night did you meet her?”

  “After she got back from London. The night she invited Max over.”

  “I shouldn’t have flown home. I should have sent more security.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “Cos I was stubborn. I should have believed her, or at least pretended to.”

  “Do you believe her now?”

  “I know she took drugs that night. I could see it in her eyes. I know when she is lying.”

  “Then why did you come back?”

  “Cos I’ll always come back.”

  “No matter what she does?”

  “Lilly will always self-destruct. It’s more a question of when and how much devastation it will cause.”

  “And you weren’t mad?”

  “I was mad. Otherwise I wouldn’t have left. But I couldn’t stay mad. She doesn’t do these things intentionally. You follow someone around long enough they will fuck up eventually. Even me and you. Lilly is no different, the difference is the whole world is waiting for it.”

  “Then why not be honest? Why accept her apology if you knew she was lying?”

  Frank didn’t answer. He changed the subject. “How was she after? After the bridge? The night she jumped?”

  “Better.”

  “Better how?”

  “It’s hard for me to compare. I haven’t known Lilly that long as you know. I can only go on what I know about her from the last four weeks.”

  “And that is?”

  “She hasn’t been happy in a long time.”

  “About what, her career?”

  “Yes. But other things too. Sounds like she has had a tough twelve months.”

  “She told me she wanted to quit the movie game today.”

  “She’s pretty conflicted. Different days we talk about it she draws different conclusions. One minute she’s talking scripts and acting classes, the next she’s talking about buying a boat and learning to sail.”

  “Well, she was pretty adamant this morning.” Frank coughed hard, and then coughed again. “Is any of it your doing?”

  “Lilly wouldn’t do what I told her even if I begged her.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” he coughed.

  “I know you and Sally don’t believe me, but I’m not Lilly’s enemy. I’m a friend.”

  “Just a friend?” Frank raising an eyebrow.

  “Right now, as of this moment, I wouldn’t even say we were tha
t.”

  “But you want it to be more?”

  I didn’t answer, walked on, it had started to rain, not heavy, but rain nonetheless, rain that made you walk a little faster, bury your head, move with a purpose.

  “Can I ask you a question, Frank?”

  “I may not answer but go ahead.”

  “What would you say if I told you I know who the informer is? The one providing my boss with every little detail, Lilly’s every move.”

  “I’d say it’s none of your business.”

  “It’s Sally.”

  Frank said nothing.

  “Don’t you care, Frank? Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “It would bother me if there was any truth to it.”

  “It is true, Frank. Why would I lie?”

  “Do you have proof?”

  “No.”

  Frank laughed. “What a fucking joke.”

  “I know it’s her.”

  “Based on what?”

  “Frank, I’m not telling you this to be vindictive or smug.”

  “Then, why are you?”

  “I don’t think Lilly deserves any more turmoil.”

  “That’s fucking rich. You and your profession are fucking bloodsuckers.”

  “You may not like me or trust me but you gotta believe I’m on Lilly’s side in all this.”

  “This conspiracy theory of yours. Who else have you told? Please tell me you haven’t told Lilly?”

  “Lilly has her suspicions already.”

  “And I’m sure you were more than willing to stoke that fire, hey kid?”

  “I want you to talk to Sally. Get her to stop.”

  “I’ll do no such thing,” he laughed. “You’re pretty cock sure of yourself, Tom, I’ll give you that.”

  “You won’t talk to Sally?”

  “You deaf? I said no.”

  “Then I will.”

  Frank turned, squared up to me, nose to nose. “No, you will do nothing.”

  “Then Lilly carries on being hounded, her privacy invaded. Lilly unhappy.”

  “Lilly will be hounded regardless of who the informer is, or was, or is going to be.”

  “Yes, but at least the informer wouldn’t be someone she knew, someone right under her nose. It’s a pretty cold-hearted thing to do, for Sally to do this behind her back. Lilly thinks of her like a mother.”

  “You don’t have to worry. The situation had been sorted.”

  “Sorted?”

  I looked at Frank. He looked right back at me. It took me a few seconds to realize.

  * * *

  “Why?”

  “Because that was what I was told to do.”

  “By who? Let me guess, Max Salter?”

  “Max wants control. Over himself, his people, his staff, the people closest to him.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re saying this to protect Sally.”

  Frank sniffed. “That woman needs protection from no one.”

  “You know it was him that sent the photos today?”

  “If it was I would be the last person he would tell. Let’s just say mine and Max’s working relationship has come to an end.”

  “He fired you.”

  Frank laughed again. “Believe me he would have fired my arse months ago. He hasn’t been too happy I stopped playing ball.”

  “Since when?”

  “A while. Just before we came out here, after he laid a hand on Lilly. After that, any loyalty I had was only with Lilly.”

  “So why quit now then?”

  “Lilly needed me here, soon as we get home I’ll make my excuses, leave quietly with no fuss or bother.”

  “What, so Max can find another replacement?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I guess Sally is an informer too? If you’re on Max’s payroll then so must she be.”

  “She may be on his payroll but she is no informer.”

  “Lilly will find out about this. About what you’ve done behind her back.”

  “She won’t find out.”

  “You’re not gonna tell her?”

  “I wasn’t planning on it, no.”

  “So, Lilly will never know. About you or Max?”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “For you and Max it is.”

  “Hey, I know I’m an arsehole but you don’t know me well enough to judge.”

  “You’re right, Frank, I don’t.”

  “You don’t think this is hard for me? Lilly is my fucking world. It will kill me walking away.”

  “But that is what you are doing. You are walking away.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “You could stay. Fuck Max. Protect Lilly.”

  “I can’t.”

  “So instead you protect you and Max. How brave.”

  “I’m guessing you will tell Lilly anyhow.”

  “I should, but I won’t.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  “So am I.” We went quiet, eyes forward. “You might be right though, Frank. Lilly shouldn’t know. I don’t know what good would come from it.”

  “Lilly will be OK, you know. She’s stronger than a lot of people give her credit for, Max included. She’s able to look after herself.”

  “Lilly won’t see it like that.”

  “My days were numbered regardless. I’m an old man. Surely she understands that one day I will have to step down? Informer or not, I’m too old to protect her. Too old to do my job.”

  “I don’t think Lilly gives two fucks if you could do your job or not. She just wants you close by because you’re her family.”

  “I can’t be with her forever.”

  “That’s the problem, Frank. Forever is how long she thought you’d stick around.”

  33

  I nearly drowned once – I was three years old, no armbands. I decided to jump into the deep end of my uncle’s swimming pool. I was saved of course, Uncle Walter to the rescue, coughed up a load of water, Mom and Dad were so mad, my drowning had made them look bad in front of friends and family. “Never drown again,” they said, like the first time was deliberate.

  Another time I bust my head open dancing in my mom’s heels, slipped and fell onto the corner of our kitchen table, spent hers and dad’s anniversary in A&E, bet you can guess how pleased they were about that.

  Fourteen years old, ran into a door chasing my sister, completely fucked my face up, my whole school thought I’d had a nose job.

  What else? Cut my little finger opening a tin of dog food, two stitches, scar like a fish hook.

  I looked down at my knee, the last of the scabs had gone, just a graze. It looked worse at the time, that mad jump off into the river, my moment of complete madness or complete sanity, depending on opinion, anyway add that to the list of injuries – twenty-two, attempted suicide.

  Weird the flaws you’re left to stare at. Marvel at how the body has fixed itself, when at the time, soaked in blood or gasping for breath, it all looked beyond repair.

  * * *

  I was out of the bath now, washed and dried, finished inspecting myself, my cuts and scrapes. It had helped, the therapeutic process of examining my skin, washing it thoroughly, at least it had stopped me crying, seeing as that’s all I’d done since arriving at the hotel.

  I was outside now. From up high I could see all the commotion down below. Despite the weather the beach was still busy with children and adults and dogs, laughing and yapping. It was hard not to be jealous, the fun I wasn’t having, I may have had a luxurious room and a luxurious view, but it all felt a waste doing it alone.

  I’m surprised I wasn’t followed, think I was even too quick for Frank, by the time he probably scrambled to his car I was already long gone. Kept checking my rea
r mirror, but all that was behind me was road and exhaust fumes. I dread to think how fast I drove, I knew these roads like the boulevards back home but that was no excuse and though I felt elation when I finally reached the hotel, I regretted the speed at which I’d arrived.

  Thank God, this place had a room, I didn’t have time to ring ahead, didn’t even have time to pack, grabbed a bag and ran. I must’ve looked such a fool, everyone else on blankets and towels, families lunching on the sand, me storming past with my luggage, dour-faced, eyes red and focused solely on the hotel in the distance.

  My room was nice, bigger than the last visit with Tom, lots of sofas, my own garden overlooking the world. Then again, my demands were different this time, asked for the most expensive room they had, told them that privacy was paramount. The lady at reception smiled, showed me down a corridor. I declined her tour of the room, opted for wine instead. “Red or white?” she asked. I said both.

  I hadn’t ventured out of my door since. I could’ve walked down to the pool, I could’ve headed down to the Mermaid Cove, taken a dip in the sea, played billiards, gone in the sauna even. I didn’t feel like seeing anyone, just wanted to be alone, sat on my veranda looking downward, my ivory tower, working out what to do next.

  I was tired of thinking, working out theories, who committed what and why. The long and short of it was, someone was lying and plotting, could be someone close to me, could be someone I’d never even met, that’s why I ran, just wanted time to digest it all, think it through. Sally wanted instant answers and instant decisions, I thought it best to leave, get some fresh air, breathe.

  So here I was, fresh air, breathing, thinking it through. With neither answer nor decision of who was innocent or to blame. No wonder I was so messed up, sat on my own, on this little green island, in this big white house talking to myself, scratching at the walls like some mad lady in a straightjacket. The only difference was, I was being served ridiculously good wine.

  Must be how queens feel, I laughed, as I contemplated being sociable.

  * * *

  “Hell of a view isn’t it, miss?” as a pot of tea was placed in front of me. “I say, it’s a beautiful view, miss,” he said again.

  “Oh sorry. I was miles away.” I looked up at the barman stood beside me, waistcoat, hair slicked back.

  “I make sure I find time at least a couple of times a day to take her all in,” he said as he started to pour me tea.