The concert that evening was cancelled in deference to the victims, but Al promised that he would return to do another show sometime in the future.
He had no intention of ever setting foot in Chicago again.
He bawled Evan out. Why had he come running over to the stadium? Why was he so fucking stupid that he walked the city’s streets alone at night? Didn’t he know people could get killed that way?
Evan was contrite. He had only come because he was worried about Al. He had only hurried over to see if he was all right.
Al felt a sudden rush of warmth and love towards the boy. He wasn’t such a bad kid after all.
Van Valda sent a long and tearful letter of regret that such a thing could have happened in Chicago. He seemed to have forgotten all about Al’s insults on the night of the party. ‘Please come back and stay with us at Macho Mansion,’ he begged.
Al threw the letter away.
Edna phoned, absolutely hysterical. Al calmed her down. Assured her that he and Evan were okay. Assured her there was no further danger, and wished he could be sure of that fact himself.
By six o’clock the entire Al King entourage was aboard his private plane, and without a backward glance they took off into the cloudy skies. None of them was sorry to leave.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dallas had been working on Man Made Woman for a week, and it couldn’t be going better.
The crew were friendly. The director, Chuck, was interesting and sharp. His wife, a striking black girl called Kiki, was designing the clothes, and some of the outfits were incredible.
Cody arrived every day to have lunch with her. He seemed to have gotten over his recent strange mood. Dallas had put it down to the fact that maybe he had been having problems with his girlfriend. She had been surprised when he had turned up that day with Irene. Funny, but she had never really thought about him having another life away from her. He had spent so much time with her. He had always been available. The fact that he suddenly produced a girlfriend had been something of a jolt. She had complained to Linda.
‘Hey,’ Linda had pointed out, ‘the guy’s normal. What did you think? That he jerked off in a closet?’
‘Just didn’t think about it.’
‘Well, you should have. He’s a sweet guy, he’s probably got lots of girlfriends.’
‘But I… Oh shit, forget it.’
She didn’t want to talk about Cody’s love life. She didn’t want to admit that she was secretly annoyed that he wasn’t waiting patiently in the wings for her. After all she had offered herself to him. And what was it he had said – in the nicest possible way of course – he had said that they shouldn’t complicate their business relationship. Terrific. The one guy she would sleep with didn’t want to.
More and more her mind flicked over the possibility of calling Diamond and asking for the services of her boyfriend. What was there to lose? Maybe she would enjoy it. Maybe she should at least give it a chance…
Linda had left. Dashed off at the first news of the bomb in Chicago. As Paul’s girlfriend she was anxious to be by his side. As a photographer she was desolate that she had missed the event.
Dallas couldn’t help wondering how Al must feel. She had even tried to call him in Chicago to offer a few words of sympathy, but he had already checked out of the hotel.
Every time she thought about Al, she got that feeling. It swept over her leaving her in a state of agitation. It didn’t please her. She, who had always been so much in control.
She knew that she needed a man. Her skin was breaking out, and she was becoming irritable for no reason. Several guys at the studio would be happy to oblige, but they were all your usual macho merchants, horny studs looking to screw anything that crossed their paths.
Lew Margolis had not intruded on her personal life since the one night with Diamond. She had seen him once when he turned up to view the week’s taping. He had barely nodded in her direction.
She was prepared for him. The negatives locked securely in her safety deposit box at the bank. The photos hidden beneath her bed.
She dreaded a confrontation, but it had to come, and the longer it took, the better.
Meanwhile she was working hard, doing her best, and enjoying every minute of it.
* * *
Cody kept a firm eye on things. The series was going to be as sensational as his every expectation. Dallas was positively glowing, and on camera she looked like a dream.
He had decided to swallow his feelings and devote himself entirely to looking after her again. She seemed to have no more secrets. She was open and warm with him. Perhaps that one night had been an exception. Everyone went a little wild on one occasion. He could remember the time when an early girlfriend had insisted that he tie her to a bed and beat her. He had done it, felt guilty but done it anyway, and the girl had been delighted in spite of her screams. Every time he had stopped she had screamed, ‘More! More! More! Harder! Harder! Harder!’
Now if anyone had witnessed that little scene… He shuddered to think about it.
After the lunch Irene had phoned him constantly. He knew it was over. Why didn’t she?
She sent him a pair of hand-knitted red socks, and when they had no effect she sent him a blue pair with his initials on.
He sent her back a potted plant with a please forgive me note.
She visited his apartment and scrawled ‘Bastard’ all over his front door in lipstick. He knew it was her because who else wore Crimson Pirate lipstick.
The new office was nice. He bought an old antique desk, a leather swivel chair, and hired a buck-toothed sixty-year-old secretary. They both sat back staring at each other, waiting for the phone to ring. It didn’t.
Becoming a hot agent and personal manager was not instant. It was obviously going to take a little hustling on his part. He had to let people know he was available, ready for new clients. They probably all thought he was too big time now.
In the meantime he read scripts, and novels. He was looking for Dallas’s first film. It would have to be a big one. Man Made Woman was just a beginning.
* * *
Saturday, Dallas was on location all day. Everyone was working overtime to get the first show out on schedule.
They were shooting at the beach, and it was a glorious day. Hot, sunny, no smog.
Kiki had designed her the most incredible swimsuit. White strips of leather winding round her body.
‘I’m going to get the most peculiar suntan!’ she joked to Cody when he appeared in the afternoon.
‘You look great,’ he enthused, ‘it’s a shame you’re so ugly!’
She stuck out her tongue and wiggled it at him.
‘Talented as well as ugly!’
‘Why don’t you shut up, Mr. Hills. I was thinking of inviting you to dinner and watching you barbecue some delicious steaks I am planning to buy – or maybe you could buy them. What do you think? An evening at my house?’
‘The thing I love about your invitations is that they always involve me paying out money.’
‘Oh, I’ll pay for the steaks. I just don’t know when I’ll have time to get them.’
He kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘I can’t, beautiful client. My mother has got a sister in town from Cleveland who can’t get through the evening without her very successful Hollywood agent nephew coming by to tell her inside stories of John Wayne and Doris Day.’
‘John Wayne and Doris Day!’
‘I told you she’s from Cleveland, they’ve never heard of any other movie stars there. Unless you count Lassie and Rin Tin Tin.’
‘Rin Tin who?’
‘Don’t make me feel old, I’m only twenty-eight.’
‘And sexy with it.’
The assistant called Dallas over for the next shot.
Cody watched her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. None of the men could.
Two takes and she was back beside him.
‘So no dinner tonight then? Stood up for an old lady from Cleve
land.’
He sighed. ‘I told you earlier this week that I would be tied up tonight. I’d ask you to come but they’d marry us off before the end of the dinner! Tell you what – I’ll drop by after.’
‘Nope. I wouldn’t mind an early night. I am kind of exhausted.’
‘We could barbecue tomorrow. Maybe ask Kiki and Chuck.’
‘Terrific.’ She smiled brightly. But she didn’t feel bright. She felt disappointed and lonely. However, she didn’t want Cody to know she felt that way. If he knew, he would cancel out on his mother and cause family problems. She knew what a difficult relationship he had there. Talk about love/hate. So she smiled and said she didn’t mind and joked and laughed with him.
Maybe an early night would do her good. She had been working like a dog. Up at all hours, falling into bed at night completely flaked out.
But it wasn’t going to work out. She was too keyed up and restless. She needed someone… something.
She knew that tonight was the night she would try out Diamond’s boyfriend.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The crowds were larger than ever. It had been the same way in Nashville and Memphis. And now at the Coliseum in Houston, Texas, they were out in force.
If Al King had been a superstar before, he had now become almost a cult figure.
‘Al is King! Al is King! Al is King!’ chanted the mobs who did not have tickets and were stuck outside.
The bomb in Chicago had triggered off the most amazing reaction. Both Paul and Bernie had been worried that it would affect attendances, and that there would be a lot of returned tickets. But quite the reverse had happened. A ticket for an Al King concert was like gold dust. On the side the rip-off merchants were selling them at astronomical prices.
Gratifying as he found it, it also made Al nervous. So many people expecting so much. He sensed an attitude of expectation from the hordes that he couldn’t quite fulfil. He knew what it was. They wanted blood. They wanted excitement. They wanted another bomb.
Every crank in America wrote threatening letters. Three lunatics confessed to having planted the bomb. Security was rigid everywhere he appeared. Concert halls, theatres, stadiums were searched before anyone was allowed in. Then began the painstaking task of frisking the audiences as they filed slowly towards their seats. To attend an Al King concert you had to arrive at least two hours early.
The Promises’ manager wanted them to quit the tour. Paul was furious, and wouldn’t allow it. They had an ironclad contract, and no way could they slip out of it.
Paul knew why they wanted to quit. All the stuff the manager was handing him about the girls being frightened was so much crap. The truth was they had an amazing new record contract and had been offered their own television series.
Rosa’s mafioso boyfriend arrived from New York and caused nothing but trouble. He hated Al, in spite of the fact that Rosa insisted nothing had ever gone on. He lurked around wearing three-piece black suits with an obvious shoulder holster and patent leather shoes. He watched Rosa like a hawk, and even she started to get a little jumpy.
Nellie was getting sick. She had lost a lot of weight and looked like a skeleton. She kept bursting into tears for no reason. Everyone knew about her enormous crush on Al. Everyone, that is, except Evan.
Evan was enjoying himself. He had managed to save another forty dollars, making a grand total of two hundred. He was delighted, and counted it lovingly every night.
He was left to his own devices. No one bothered him. As long as he showed his face occasionally things were cool. His hair grew very long. His skin even more spotty as he consumed nothing but candy. He had found magazines on sale that surpassed anything he had ever seen before. People actually doing it. Girls showing everything. Animals. He was sickened and excited. God, if Nelson ever saw this collection he would have to pay. Evan snickered at the thought, and packed his magazines neatly at the bottom of his suitcase.
Linda had returned to the tour to find Paul preoccupied with business. Twice during the week he had had to fly back to New York for meetings, and not once had he offered to take her with him.
She took her pictures, and brooded, and decided maybe when they reached Los Angeles she would stay there. Christ! A year was long enough to screw up your life for any man. Yes – in Los Angeles she would give Paul an ultimatum. If he went running back to his wife and kids – which she knew he would – then at least she could get over him in the sun surrounded by lots of horny would-be actors. Good therapy.
Al was invited to a lot of parties in Houston. The city seemed to be full of oil millionaires with randy wives all waiting to throw their palatial mansions open for Al’s inspection – not to mention their legs.
He did the party bit. He even screwed a couple of the wives and one daughter. Nothing memorable.
When they flew out of Houston he was glad. He could never understand why all those rich people fell over backwards to entertain him. And the husbands didn’t even seem to mind him having it off with their wives. On the contrary – they seemed positively proud.
The next stop was Oklahoma.
Al lolled on the big double bed in his private bedroom on his private plane. He wasn’t tired, but he didn’t feel like socializing with the others. He was bored with the endless games of backgammon and gin rummy. He was bored with listening to his musicians discuss their last lay. He was bored with Rosa’s flinty-eyed boyfriend staring at him, and Nellie giving him tearful looks, and Sutch always playing Stevie Wonder tapes on the cassette player that never left her side.
He was bored with Luke.
And he was extra-bored with Evan, who looked like shit and complained every time you talked to him.
Bernie bored him with his endless talk of this publicity break and that. Didn’t Bernie realize that his job was a piece of cake? Didn’t he realize that Al King would fill the newspapers with or without the help of Bernie Suntan?
And Jesus, what was with bringing those freaks aboard for the ride – those two clap-ridden groupies. Whose plan was this, for Christ’s sake?
Angrily Al buzzed for Paul.
‘What’s up?’ asked Paul, coming in cheerfully. ‘Thought you wanted to sleep.’
Al scowled. ‘I’m sick and tired of my plane being used as a travelling knocking shop.’
‘Huh?’
‘I want Rosa’s boyfriend off. He wants to follow her across the country, let him do it on his own money.’
‘Hey – Al…’
‘Hey Al nothing. The creep gets up my ass. And tell Bernie I don’t ever want to see him bring those two freaks aboard again.’
‘They ran out of money. Bernie thought…’
‘Tell Bernie to shove his thoughts right where it will do them most good.’
‘OK, Al.’ A sudden air pocket nearly jolted Paul off his feet.
‘What the fuck is the pilot doing?’ demanded Al.
Paul did not dare tell him that the pilot was showing Evan how to fly the plane. Al was not the only one who was bored, the tour was getting to all of them. Personally, in spite of the gigantic success it was, Paul could not wait for it to finish. He had so much to do. The offers Al was receiving were incredible. Above all expectations. There was a new record contract to negotiate. Two films. A tour of Australia that promised enough money for instant retirement. He would have to sit down with Al and find out what he wanted to do. Just a formality really, because Paul made all the career decisions. He had already decided that Al should do one of the films. There had been many offers in the past – indeed, early on in his career Al had appeared in a bad British comedy as a horny milkman – but nothing that had been just right. Now both these films he was being offered seemed tailor-made. Of course the main thing was that neither part would tax Al’s acting abilities. And quite frankly, who knew if he had any to tax?
Lost in thought, Paul didn’t notice Glory squeeze quietly into the room behind him. It wasn’t until Al roared, ‘What the fuck is she doing in here?’ that Paul saw h
er edging along the side towards the bed. He grabbed her quickly by the arm. God, but her arm was so thin he thought it might snap off!
‘I had to put my eyes on your room, man,’ she mumbled, ‘like where does the master sleep, y’dig, man? Like give my eyes your body and I’ll die happy.’ She rolled wild eyes in her pointed face, licked dry lips. ‘You are…’
Before she could finish, a red-faced Plum came bursting in, followed by an even redder-faced Bernie.
For one horrible moment Al thought the two freaks had come to rape him. The fat one and the thin one throwing themselves on his body, ravishing him. He shuddered.
Everyone was speaking at once. Plum was screaming complaints at Glory. Glory was mumbling inanely. Bernie was blustering ‘What the fucks’ all over the place, and Paul was coldly shoving them all out.
When they were gone, with the door shut firmly behind them, Al said, ‘I think that proves my point, Paul. No more strangers on this plane. Do you realize if that little freak had had a gun she could have blown my head off? So much for all my fucking protection then.’
‘You’re right,’ agreed Paul, more shaken than Al could see. The skinny girl had been totally out of it, stoned shitless. ‘I’ll talk to Bernie.’
‘Don’t talk to him. Blast his fuckin’ bollocks off!’
‘Right.’ Paul left the room hurriedly.
Linda tried to stop him as he rushed past. ‘What’s happening?’
He could see Bernie and the fat girl arguing and gesticulating near the front of the plane. ‘In a minute,’ he told Linda, and strode down to Bernie. ‘I want them off,’ he said sharply, ‘as soon as we land.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Bernie, embarrassed.
Plum turned to Paul, fat red cheeks blazing. She indicated Bernie. ‘He said we could see where Al slept. He said so. He promised. We both gave him blow jobs an’ he promised.’ She glared balefully at Bernie, who was gazing out of the window. ‘He’s a fat slob,’ she continued, ‘I wouldn’t have sucked his fat cock if it hadn’t of meant gettin’ near Al. Nor would she.’ She indicated Glory, spread out on a seat, staring disinterestedly into space.
Lovers and Gamblers Page 26