Devil in Disguise

by Julian Clary

  ‘Fruit? Cold bath?’ said a bewildered Molly, still only half awake. Is she joking? she wondered drowsily.

  ‘You came to me a broken woman and, having mended you, I intend to test my patient,’ said Lilia, standing with her back to the window, hands on hips and leaning over Molly in a matronly manner. ‘You will eat fruit because it is slimming,’ she continued, her chin quivering as she warmed to her theme and gathered pace. ‘Let’s face it, Molly. You are on the buxom side. Maybe you have convinced yourself that you can carry off this look, but I am here to tell you otherwise.’

  Molly was aghast. ‘Lilia,’ please!’ she said, pulling the blanket up to her throat. ‘I’m a healthy, big-boned girl.’

  ‘I can’t have some great heifer like you charging around the place. Think of my knick-knacks. We’re going to slim you down.’

  Molly sat up in bed, staring at her in disbelief: where had this martinet come from? Up until now, the old lady had always been contained and polite. But she wasn’t done yet.

  ‘You will have a bath because you stink of grief and sorrow and female hormones,” she announced. ‘Wash them all away. And a cold bath to toughen you up and shock your mind and body out of their self—indulgence.’

  At this Molly gasped. ‘But I’m recovering from a broken heart!’

  ‘Well, you are the one who announced herself fit and ready to return to normal life, my dear,’ said Lilia, reasonably, tugging the bedclothes away from Molly, like a magician whipping a tablecloth from under a fully set table. ‘We’ll see about that, won’t we? Get up. We are already behind schedule.’

  With that, she marched out of the room, shutting the door so firmly behind her that Molly jumped.

  She stared at the door in disbelief, then swung her legs over the side of the bed and pushed her palms across her forehead until they met at the back of her neck. Whatever was going on with Lilia, the line of least resistance was to humour her and do as ordered until she found out what on earth the old woman was going on about.

  She staggered into the bathroom and found the bath waiting for her, full to the brim and stone cold. Perhaps she should just swish the water around and pretend to Lilia that she had got into it? No. Lilia would know, she was sure. I don’t particularly want to get in there, she thought, but she felt programmed somehow by Lilia’s instructions and unable to resist. She felt a stimulating mix of trepidation and wonderment. Gingerly she lowered herself into the tub. Sitting down was the worst bit, feeling the spikes of icy water reach slowly into every bodily nook and cranny. She didn’t know whether to scream with laughter or shock. In the end,’ when she finally opened her mouth no sound came out.

  After staying submerged for just a minute,’ Molly got out and towelled herself dry. Immediately she felt warm and energised. She caught a glimpse of her body in the mirror and stopped to have a look. Daniel had liked its generous curves, but maybe Lilia was right. A diet wouldn’t do her any harm. Perhaps a new look would help the fresh start she was hoping for.

  When she entered the kitchen, she half expected to find the old, smiling, kind Lilia there, stirring some warming porridge on the stove, and saying what a joke it had all been. But, no, it was still the new severe Lilia, barking at her to sit down.

  On the plate in front of her sat an orange, an apple and a banana.

  ‘Eat them all up,” said Lilia. ‘The peel is optional, in the case of the banana and the orange.’

  Molly was hungry and fancied her usual muesli and maybe some toast, but did as she was told. Lilia stood and watched her consume every mouthful, even offering her another cup of coffee if she wished. ‘The caffeine will be effective in pulling you out of your sluggish state. We want to get your heart rate going. It is all for your own benefit. You will thank me one day.’

  The coffee had indeed woken Molly up, and she found her voice at last. ‘But,’ Lilia, I don’t understand why you’re behaving like this. I’m a grown woman, not some skivvy from the village that you can order around.’

  Lilia shook her head. ‘You are far from that. I understand you better than you think. I have your interests at heart.’

  ‘Then why are you bullying me and ordering me about?’

  Lilia sat down on the chair opposite Molly’s, clasped her hands together and stared intently into Molly’s eyes. ‘Listen to me. You are special. Circumstances and Fate have thrown us together and I have a vision, my dear. A vision of your future. So far you have lived a very dull and unspectacular life. With my help that can change. I can transform you. Your love was sprung and shot that fateful night, thanks to Daniel and Simon and their uncontrollable lust. If we are to derive some benefit from the situation then it is this: now you can join the ranks of the unlovable. We are the successful people in this world. We see things with a cold heart and we are all the better for it. We get on in life, live in nice houses and drive big cars. We are fearless.’

  Molly frowned. ‘I don’t think I agree. Of course we can recover from sadness and heartbreak. Things can mend, can’t they?’

  ‘Only if you let them!’ exclaimed Lilia. ‘Now is your moment. Let these events change your life. What is the point of letting the wound heal and carrying on as before, on the same dreary treadmill of life?’

  ‘But I’ll learn from what has happened, won’t I? I’ll be older and wiser next time,’ reasoned Molly.

  ‘Of course you will. Such fighting talk! But under my steady guidance, I am giving you a makeover. A new look: slimmer, trimmer, wiser and more feline.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ said Molly, intrigued despite herself.

  ‘Just imagine you have been put in hospital or sectioned for a few weeks. I will make all your decisions for you.’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a bit weird.’

  ‘You can trust me. I will remould you. We will have acting classes and singing instruction, exercise with Heathcliff and a strict diet.’

  ‘Are you a teacher, then?’

  ‘When I choose to be. If I spot a special talent. I see great things ahead for you. Just let me show you a brighter future.’

  ‘You sound like Mystic Meg.’

  ‘Take me seriously, Molly. You are at a crossroads in your life. This way stardom, that way oblivion. Which are you going to choose?’

  ‘You mean — you want to make me a star?’

  Lilia nodded, her eyes glinting. ‘A great singing star — rich, famous, a living legend. The usual thing.’

  Molly couldn’t deny this sounded appealing. ‘So hat happens if I stay here?’

  ‘I become your guide and mentor. I will make a timetable of recovery and transformation. I don’t like to boast but Kate O’Mara passed through my hands once. She was a little minx at the time, but I could see the potential. Look at her now.’

  ‘Gosh,’ said Molly, impressed. ‘But I have no money.’

  ‘Neither did Kate. I never charge. She pebble-dashed the house for me in gratitude. You will help me with Joey for a while. In return I will take you to the heights of greatness!’ Lilia leant forward, her usually milky green eyes suddenly like steel. She licked her lips. ‘Will you do it, Molly? Give yourself to me for six months — that is all I ask. Then you can return to your ordinary life if you wish. Do everything I ask. Become my creature. I promise you will not regret it.’

  Molly bit her lip. The offer was tempting. Even the biggest stars in the world had to be discovered by someone — she couldn’t just ask for a recording contract and expect to sell a million records overnight. Lilia must believe in her, she must really think she had the talent — and Lilia had been the first person to give credence to Molly’s own certainty that she had a gift. So far her career had consisted of glorified pub singing and a few third-rate tours of badly staged musicals. It was a big leap from there to successful solo artist. Furthermore she wasn’t getting any younger, and plenty of big stars were still in their teens. Lilia was offering her a chance. The worst that could happen was she’d waste six precious months. But she had nowhere
to go, no home to return to. Why not embrace the idea and see what the outcome would be?

  She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, Lilia,’ she said firmly. ‘You have a deal.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Lilia, excitedly, clapping her hands.

  ‘I am yours for six months to do with as you please.’

  ‘I am delighted! You won’t regret it.’ Lilia reached a bony hand across the kitchen table. ‘Let’s shake on it!’

  Molly’s fleshy hand moved to meet Lilia’s and the two women looked fondly into each other’s eyes.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ said Molly.

  ‘Good,’ said Lilia, ‘because we are already behind schedule.’

  The lessons began as soon as Molly had finished getting Joey ready and put him in his usual seat in the sitting room. Lilia stood by the fireplace, looking stern, and when Joey was settled, she frowned at Molly. ‘We will begin with some vocal exercises. Let me hear you hum.’

  Molly did a bit of The Mikado.

  ‘Not bad, but your tone is too clean, too musical theatre. We need to dirty you up a little.’

  ‘Dirty me up?’ Molly echoed, feeling worried. ‘You mean, sing something more risqué?’

  ‘Oh, no, something quite different.’ Lilia went to the shelf to pick up something, then turned back to her. ‘Here,’ she said, handing her pupil a lighter and a packet of French cigarettes. ‘Gauloises. I started to smoke these when I was on a tour of Syria. After a few packets, my voice developed a charming crack. You need to find that husky quality.’

  ‘But I don’t smoke,’ declared Molly, moving away from the proffered packet as if it was going to bite her. ‘I think smoking’s disgusting.’

  ‘Yes, but that is exactly what you need. There’s a whiff of Julie Andrews about you, and we don’t want that.’ Lilia took a cigarette from the packet and handed it to her. ‘Pop it between your lips like a good girl.’

  Molly stared at it,’ repelled.

  ‘You want to be a star, don’t you?’ snapped Lilia.

  ‘Yes, but …’

  ‘You said you’d do anything I asked. You promised! Remember?’

  Molly nodded and did as she was told.

  Lilia picked up a box of matches and struck one. ‘Suck!’ she said, bringing the flame to the tip of the Gauloise.

  Molly tried, but the smoke tasted bitter and it was hot in her mouth. She involuntarily blew it out, coughed and spluttered noisily, handing the cigarette hurriedly back to Lilia as if it were a loathsome living creature. Her eyes watered and her face reddened. ‘Ugh! Yuck! No, thank you,’ Lilia. That’s horrible, that is.’

  Lilia rolled her eyes. ‘We must persist. Take a few breaths and try again. Maria Callas smoked cigars and she sang like an angel.’

  Molly took the cigarette back and gingerly put it to her lips.

  ‘Gently this time,’ instructed Lilia.

  Molly screwed up her face as if she were about to take some unpleasant medicine.

  ‘That’s it. Be brave,’ encouraged Lilia.

  Molly drew gently on the Gauloise, inhaling until the acrid smoke was deep in her lungs.

  ‘Now blow it out gently and smoothly. Good!’ said Lilia, as Molly successfully completed the exhalation with just a small series of gunshot coughs.

  ‘You see?’ said Lilia, congratulating her pupil. ‘That wasn’t too bad, was it?’

  Molly’s voice sounded like a strangled ferret’s. ‘I feel a bit sick.’

  ‘That is a natural enough reaction,” said Lilia, ‘but only temporary. We will start with five cigarettes a day, and build to forty. Once the addiction takes hold, you will thank me. And your voice, my dear, will benefit enormously. This is a most exciting development.’

  ‘My head’s spinning,’ said Molly, in a gruffer rasp this time,’ rubbing her throat.

  ‘You see? You already sound far more Fenella Fielding. Congratulations.’

  ‘Lilia—’

  ‘This is, however, a no-smoking house, and I must ask you to take your filthy habit into the garden. There is a flowerpot full of sand that you may use as an ashtray.’

  ‘Right,’ said Molly.

  ‘Next, brandy — or, more specifically, Courvoisier.’ Lilia opened the ornate Chinese cabinet that stood by the piano and lifted out a bottle, which she then presented. She held it by the neck between the finger and thumb of one hand, while resting the base on the open palm of the other. ‘Beryl Reid swore by it. It will, with time, add texture and resonance to the timbre of your singing.’ Lilia lifted a cut-glass brandy balloon from inside the cabinet and poured a healthy measure. ‘Just like the cigarette, it will burn your throat and make you feel queasy to begin with.’

  ‘I have drunk brandy before, you know. Simon was very partial to it. Mind you, that was Sainsbury’s cooking brandy.’

  ‘A distant relative of this,’ said Lilia, with a shudder.

  Molly took the glass and downed it in one.

  Lilia raised her eyebrows and smiled. ‘I am very impressed! You are clearly no blushing virgin where this particular lesson in concerned.’

  ‘I could probably teach you a thing or two, if we’re being honest,’ said Molly, pouring herself another glass. ‘Cheers!’

  ‘That is the care and maintenance of the vocal cords dealt with: cigarettes and brandy.’

  ‘This is going straight to my head,’ said Molly. ‘I’ve only had a bit of fruit for my breakfast.’

  ‘That is all to the good, my dear. As well as improving your voice, alcohol will loosen you up and help you to access the emotions necessary for the songs you will sing. Let us begin.’ Lilia moved to the piano and lifted the lid. ‘We will try some scales now. Ready?’

  Molly stood in the middle of the room, swaying slightly and feeling light-headed. ‘Ready for action,’ she replied.

  With one finger Lilia played middle C and Molly sang the note perfectly.

  ‘The right note but your voice is still too clean. Too bleached. Continue.’ Lilia’s fingers travelled up the piano keys and down again and Molly’s voice followed suit. ‘Not bad. Now squeeze the notes out for me, making an eee sound. Slide the note up as high as you can reach, then down again like this: eee-EEE-eee!’

  Molly replicated the sound and this procedure was repeated higher and higher up the scale until her voice was just a squeak and then back down to a deep rumble.

  ‘You have a good range,’ Molly. There is a lot for me to work with. Now pop out to the garden with some more brandy and have two cigarettes, then clean your teeth. It is almost time for Joey’s lunch and we don’t want you breathing Courvoisier and fags all over him.’

  Molly’s days were very full, beginning bright and early with the cold bath and the fruit for breakfast followed by at least three cigarettes smoked in the garden. After she had walked Heathcliff, she had to attend to Joey, feed him, bathe him, dry him, powder and dress him and get him into his chair for the day. Lilia’s bruises proved too tender for her to attempt any shopping or housework so Molly ended up doing those as well.

  The regime was far from easy: she felt permanently weak and hungry, and had the beginnings of a cough from the cigarettes. She longed for some chips, biscuits or bread, but these were all denied her. Lilia allowed her fruit for breakfast, salad for lunch and steamed vegetables with some fish or chicken in the evenings. She started on the brandy before lunch and they spent their afternoons at the piano. Joey had to be fed and bathed in the early evening while Lilia watched Coronation Street. After Molly’s meagre dinner — which she often had to eat while Lilia tucked into delicious-smelling stews with buttery mashed potato, or juicy steak with chips — it was time for her acting lesson. Lilia would select scenes from Shakespeare, Bernard Shaw or Brecht, and make Molly perform them, reading the other parts for her. Then she would give her direction and advice on breathing, diction and posture.

  A week passed, and by the end of it, Molly already found it hard to remember the life she had left behind, or any kind of existence outside Kit-Kat Cotta
ge and her strict regime. It was curiously familiar, not unlike her institutional childhood, and comforting, with the absence of responsibility: all she had to do was obey.

  One afternoon as they were doing their singing practice, Molly’s voice suddenly broke into a jagged rasp. Lilia jumped up from the piano and clapped her hands. ‘Did you hear that? Excellent! That is the very quality I have been looking for.’

  ‘My throat feels like the bottom of a birdcage,” said Molly,’ hacking a little. She rubbed her temples. ‘My head’s throbbing.’

  ‘I couldn’t be more pleased for you,’ said Lilia, delighted. ‘Do it again.’

  Molly’s voice, once clear and bright, cracked a second time but remained in tune.

  ‘You hear it?’ said Lilia, excited. ‘The voice of a woman, not a girl! Gritty, lived-in, broken like your heart. You see how it is all fitting together? We have made a breakthrough. Congratulations.’

  Molly wasn’t sure how thrilled she felt. She was permanently woozy and light-headed from the smoking, the brandy and the strict diet Lilia was enforcing. She had given Lilia control of her life, though, and it was amazing how quickly she became used to it. If Lilia was angry, she felt miserable; if she was pleased, Molly clung to the few, rare words of praise that came her way.

  ‘There is a change to our routine today, Molly,’ Lilia announced, the following morning. ‘We are going into town. You need some new clothes. And I’ve been thinking about your hair. Now you are shedding all that blubber and your cheekbones are being given a chance to fulfil their potential, it needs attention.’

  Molly looked down, surprised. Had she really lost weight? Now she thought about it, her jeans were getting looser and looser, and she was beginning to find her previously snug jumpers somewhat roomy. Then her hand went to her hair and she stroked her curls protectively. ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Straight hair. More severe. And darker. I don’t approve of the way you play with your curls all the time, as if they were seaweed. Obviously it isn’t easy to find a stylish salon in Northampton,’ but I have secured an appointment at Hair Today. I shall come with you to hold your hand.’