Eddie stood there with a stupid sloppy grin on his face, while Silver bestowed the royal handshake, and even managed a charming smile.
‘Garbage city,’ Heaven muttered to herself, and began to edge away.
‘Aren’t you going to wish your mother a happy birthday?’ Nora said pointedly.
‘Oh yeah – Happy birthday, Mom.’ She raced for the bar, leaving Eddie behind – what a geek!
* * *
By chance, Howard had purchased a small glassine envelope of what he was assured was first-rate Peruvian cocaine. A young actor he knew assured him. And since Howard’s connection at the studio (a rather flaky female production executive) was not altogether reliable – there were days when she never even bothered to turn up – he decided to accept the actor’s offer of a ‘great deal’. Little did Howard know he was paying twice the amount the actor had given to one of the barmen. He made the buy discreetly, underneath a palm tree out by the pool. ‘This isn’t for me,’ he explained to the actor, who couldn’t have cared less. ‘It’s for a friend.’
He felt secure with the coke stashed on his person. So secure, in fact, that he saw no reason why he shouldn’t have a small snort on the premises – just to rev himself up.
Finding an empty toilet in the pool house, he laid out a suitable amount of the white powder. It wasn’t that he needed it or anything like that, he just felt like testing out his new source – making sure it was primo.
* * *
‘Give me a vodka martini,’ Heaven said to the barman. She had no idea what a vodka martini was, but it sounded like a sophisticated enough choice.
Rocky checked her out. She looked like she could be a customer. He was carrying Quaaludes and other assorted goodies apart from cocaine. As he fixed her drink he mumbled, ‘Y’can score anythin’ else y’like if you’ve got the honey.’
‘What?’
‘Honey – money.’
She wanted to giggle. Silver, with all her fancy trappings, had ended up with a dealer behind her bar!
‘I’m not in the mood for buying,’ she said haughtily. And then she remembered the money Uncle Jack had handed her, and thought – Why not? It certainly wouldn’t cost a hundred dollars to get a cab back to the Valley.
‘I’ll change my mind. Do you have any joints?’
‘How many?’
Shrugging vaguely she said, ‘Three or four.’
‘Ya look like a rock star, an’ ya buy like a kid.’
Heaven propped her arms on the bar. ‘Do you really think I look like a rock star?’ she asked eagerly.
Rocky, adopting the Stallone stance, said, ‘Yo, pretty lady.’
She gave him a second look. He was of medium height and muscular, with drooping eyes, a funny crooked nose, and a shock of longish black hair. He was an older man, he must be at least thirty, but so what? Eddie was behaving like a jerk-off. He had joined the court of Silver, and a quick glance across the room confirmed that he was still hanging onto her mother’s every stupid word. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I am a singer, only I can never get anyone to listen to my tapes.’
‘Poor pretty lady,’ Rocky crooned sympathetically. Lately he liked them younger and younger. This one looked positively illegal. If he wasn’t so stoned he would go for her now. ‘I have a friend in the record biz,’ he added, thinking he could save her for another time.
‘You do?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Oh yeah yeah yeah, I sure do. He’s a good buddy. Maybe I can fix it for him to er… hear your tapes.’
Her amber eyes sparkled. ‘Really?’
‘If I can do – I will do.’ He winked suggestively.
‘Two brandies,’ demanded a fat man in a too-tight cummerbund and rented tux.
‘Comin’ up,’ said Rocky agreeably. He scribbled his number on a paper napkin and slipped it to her. ‘Give me a call. Maybe I’ll be your manager. I’m the kinda guy can make things happen.’
She took the napkin and stuffed it in her pocket. He was probably full of crap. Most people, she had discovered early on in life, were full of crap.
* * *
Antonio and his group fussed around Jade, keeping her a part of their own private circle. ‘You’re a new face in town,’ Antonio warned. ‘So, cara, we protect you.’
‘Come on,’ she laughed. ‘I’m the last person who needs protecting. I’m from New York – remember?’
‘This is a place filled with beautiful women, but you, bellissima, are special.’
Jade couldn’t help smiling. Antonio the flatterer. He got some of his best pictures that way.
‘Okay, okay. I guess I’m surrounded,’ she sighed grudgingly. ‘Only I want a running commentary on everyone and everything. For a start – who’s that?’ She pointed out Heaven, lounging defiantly against the bar hanging onto her vodka martini.
‘Who indeed?’ echoed Antonio, peering over. ‘Another new face, and one that’s not been lifted either.’
‘She looks completely out of place,’ Jade remarked. She had already observed that the party was filled with impeccably groomed and well-coiffed women in expensive designer clothes.
‘True,’ agreed Antonio. ‘And so young. José!’ He snapped his fingers at the makeup artist with the careful pageboy bob and oriental eyes. ‘Bring the young lady over. She has the peculiar style. Maybe I photograph her.’
José sprang to his feet.
Jade smiled. ‘Still collecting strays,’ she mused.
‘It makes the life exciting,’ agreed Antonio.
Jade looked around the tented patio filled with tables. Dinner was over, and now the party guests table-hopped and danced to the strident disco music. Antonio had commandeered his own table, and he proceeded to point people out as they boogied past. He had a line of gossip on everyone. ‘She take the heroin.’ ‘He a bigamist.’ ‘She in the porno films.’ ‘He only like two women.’
‘Stop!’ Jade held up her hand sternly. ‘I don’t want to know any of this.’
‘Why?’ inquired Antonio, quite hurt by her lack of interest. ‘Is true.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘You should know these things now you live here, cara,’ he said huffily.
‘Why?’
‘Why… she ask me why…?’ He trailed off as José brought Heaven to their table.
The girl was indeed an original. Very pretty. And young. Glowingly, vibrantly young.
* * *
Silver wanted the evening to end. Fortunately people were beginning to depart. She couldn’t be more pleased. She had a strong desire to strangle Nora. Did the stupid woman honestly expect her to be thrilled and delighted by Jack’s presence? Not to mention Heaven, who arrived late looking like a reject from a rock concert.
She had struggled long and hard to regain the title Silver Anderson – Superstar. And tonight was to have been her crowning triumph. Now everything was ruined by her daughter and her brother. Just the very sight of them put her in a bad mood, and what the hell did Nora think she was gaining by inviting them?
Poppy Soloman tapped her on the shoulder to say goodbye. ‘We must have lunch,’ Poppy gushed.
‘I’m far too busy for lunch,’ Silver dismissed her crisply. Then, remembering that Poppy was married to Howard Soloman, and Howard was the head of Orpheus, she added, ‘Perhaps dinner.’ There was no reason, now she was a major television star again, that she couldn’t return triumphantly to the big screen.
‘I’ll give a dinner for you,’ Poppy promised.
‘What a nice idea.’ Silver warmed to the plump blonde with the pink and white complexion. They had hardly spoken before, although both realized the advantages of a dinner party in Silver Anderson’s honour.
‘I’ll have my secretary call your secretary,’ Poppy said, well versed in Hollywood protocol.
‘Do that,’ replied Silver graciously, and moved on to the next departing guest.
Chapter Twenty
Wes had back-ache. He surveyed the stragglers at the party and wished they would all go the fuc
k home. He was tired and fed-up, not even slightly bombed, while Rocky was stoned out of his head.
Rocky was a dangerous friend to have. He was heading for big trouble, and Wes had no intention of being dragged along for the ride. Selling a small amount of cocaine on the side was one thing, but as soon as Rocky realized he had more customers than he could handle, he made a call and dispatched Wes to the front gate to accept a fresh delivery. Some black dude in a white stretch limo arrived all set to join the party.
‘No way,’ Wes told him. ‘It’s a private event.’
‘C’mon, man, you look like y’can get me inside,’ the occupant of the limo coaxed. ‘There’ll be somethin’ sweet ’n’ extra for you. I just looove that Silver Lady. She’s got reeeeeal style.’
‘Sorry,’ Wes said firmly, accepting delivery and hurrying back up the drive before the guard at the gate became suspicious.
Rocky was way gone even then, and while he developed his lucrative sideline, Wes got to fix everything from a Margarita to a frozen strawberry daiquiri. And he was pissed off. Rocky was making all the money while he was doing all the work. Fuck it! Rocky was treating him like a paid lackey, not a loyal friend who was kindly helping out.
Wes did not like fixing drinks for rich jerk-offs in dinner jackets and their ladies – if that was the right description. Most of the women had tight mouths, and anyone who knew a thing or two about the female sex knew if their mouths were tight their pussies were too. Waiting to get laid. The guys were so busy with their big deals and their drug habits, they didn’t have time to service their old ladies. And usually the broad wasn’t old or a lady.
Wes knew these things. He had worked enough bars around town and listened to enough stories.
Working a bar in a club was a whole different ball game. There, he was his own boss. He had attitude and authority – even a little bit of power. Working bar at a party it seemed he was just hired help. A servant. At everyone’s beck and call.
Wes decided no more favours. He was nobody’s errand boy.
* * *
‘And so,’ Heaven continued, ‘like Eddie formed this group, an’ I sing an’ write the songs. And we’re really, really, totally brilliant!’
‘What do you call yourselves?’ asked Jade.
‘The Rats,’ Eddie joined in. Boy, was he having a good time! Not only had he got to meet Silver Anderson, now he was sitting talking to this fantastic model whom he’d seen on television in the sexiest freakin’ commercial ever! What did it matter that Heaven was ignoring him – he was on a roll!
‘The Rats!’ Jade repeated with distaste.
‘No bene, dahling,’ interrupted Antonio – ignoring Eddie and concentrating on Heaven. ‘You must have a name – people they love – they remember.’
‘Heaven and the Boys,’ Jade suggested.
‘No! No! No! I have it!’ exclaimed Antonio. ‘Heavenly Bodies! What a name! Heavenly Bodies. It must be. Antonio, he say so.’
‘I don’t know…’ Heaven cocked her head on one side, enjoying all the attention.
‘What about me?’ interjected Eddie. ‘I can’t be in a group called Heavenly Bodies. It sounds like we’re all freakin’ dead! We’re called the Rats. And we’re not changin’ our name. Nobody’s complained before.’
Antonio dismissed him with a wave of his elegantly manicured hand. ‘Tonight things they change,’ he stated. ‘I, Antonio, have decided to help this young lady to succeed.’ He smiled benevolently at Heaven. ‘The same as her mama, she too will be the big star.’
‘Wow, and you haven’t even heard me sing,’ Heaven protested, thrilled by this unexpected turn of events, yet also frightened lest she didn’t live up to this funny little man’s expectations.
‘Ah, but I don’t need to,’ Antonio said with a Cheshire Cat smile. ‘When Antonio decide to photograph someone, that someone become the star. Antonio smell talent!’
* * *
Vladimir’s kitchen was almost clear. The Chinese caterers had departed, and only a few waiters and the two barmen remained, servicing the last guests who seemed reluctant to leave, even though Madame Silver had retired upstairs at least half an hour ago.
Vladimir had his eye on the waiters and the barmen. The end of any party was a dangerous time. That was when bottles of liquor, bar implements, and cartons of cigarettes always seemed to mysteriously vanish. Vladimir checked everyone at the back door as they prepared to leave. He double-checked a waiter who vaguely resembled Rob Lowe. He sent out signals, and the young man responded.
‘Would you care for a night hat in my apartment?’ Vladimir tempted.
‘Sure,’ the waiter responded.
‘Good, good.’ Vladimir was excited. He had been eyeing the boy all night. ‘Walk across the courtyard to the garage. Wait for me.’ He gave a winning smile, and shooed him on his way.
Silver Anderson’s instructions were explicit: ‘No entertaining on my premises.’ Surely she did not consider his apartment above the garage her premises?
‘Hey, chief.’ Wes smiled his way through the kitchen. ‘I’m taking off.’
Vladimir eagle-eyed him. He seemed contraband-less.
Wes eased himself out the back door. Most of the fags who ran these rich houses didn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. This Russian dude was checking him over because it was the end of the evening, and yet at the beginning of the evening he had calmly walked past him with a full box of booze and not a question asked. Stupid.
Rocky was stupid too. Somewhere along the way Wes had made a couple of scores of his own with the new supply of cocaine, and Rocky hadn’t even noticed. When he woke up in the morning maybe he’d realize – maybe not. That’s what happened when you snorted your own business.
Getting into his car Wes took a long deep breath. He was tired. Exhausted. Tomorrow was another day. A Sunday. He planned to sleep it through.
Chapter Twenty-One
The morning after the party…
Silver Anderson stirred at noon, adjusted her royal-blue sleep mask, and returned to a wonderful dream about herself.
Jack Python was up at seven. Swam twenty lengths in Clarissa’s pool, then drove to his hotel and worked on ideas for his upcoming series of shows.
Clarissa Browning waited until she heard his car leave, and then arose and spent a solitary day absorbing her latest role. She enjoyed being alone.
Howard Soloman surfaced. Felt lousy. Snorted coke. And played three sets of punishing tennis with a movie star, another studio head, and a female executive they all wanted to fuck.
Poppy Soloman covered her face in rejuvenating creams, submitted to a thorough massage from a sadistic woman with a genteel voice and cruel hands, and spent the remainder of the day gossiping on the phone.
Jade Johnson got up at ten. Dressed in sweats. Went to a coffee shop, had breakfast (prune juice and a danish), bought the papers and a selection of magazines, and spent the day by herself.
Mannon Cable left his bed at eight. Called his lawyer at eight-fifteen and had a lengthy discussion about how to get rid of Melanie-Shanna.
Melanie-Shanna Cable left her bed at nine, marched into the kitchen where Mannon was on the phone, and announced that she was pregnant.
The rest of their day was spent in long discussions.
Whitney Valentine Cable woke up on Chuck Nielson’s water bed in his Malibu beach house. They made love – which he was very good at. Afterwards they managed to consume a large breakfast, then they swam in the ocean and lazily sunbathed.
Wes Money was disturbed by the phone at eleven o’clock. ‘Get lost, whoever you are,’ he mumbled into the receiver. It was a woman. Naturally. Why did they find him so goddamn irresistible?
He was forced to say she could come over. Which she did. And he was sorry, because he was too tired to get it up, and she was determined to have at least three orgasms.
They parted company on bad terms, and he went straight back to sleep.
Heaven floated through the day planning
what totally brilliant outfit she could wow the great Antonio with when she turned up for the photo session he had promised her.
Vladimir got rid of the young waiter early in the morning, and spent the rest of the day agonizing over his latest conquest. How could he continue to be so indiscriminate when dreaded disease roamed the streets?
Later, dressed in red, he cruised Santa Monica, and took home a sixteen-year-old runaway who did unspeakable things with his queen-size tongue.
Silver Anderson would have a fit if she knew what went on above her garage.
Fortunately she didn’t.
Another lazy Sunday drifted by.
Somewhere in the Midwest…
Sometime in the seventies…
The girl put up with the unwelcome attentions of her father for almost two years. After his initial attack she learned to stay out of his way as much as possible, and with her mother home from the hospital it was not so easy for him to get to her.
But he managed. In spite of her fear and pain. He grabbed her whenever he could, and forced himself on her.
She was too ashamed to tell anyone, for she blamed herself for tempting him, and withdrew into a shell, unwilling to make friends or mix with the other children at the local school she attended. Whenever she could she avoided school altogether. There was a place in the woods she could hide, a large oak tree with a hollow in its trunk she could squeeze into. For hours she would stay there, curled in a ball, her arms wrapped around her knees, her thoughts tumbling around in her head.
She loved her mother. She didn’t want to hurt her.
She hated her father. She would gladly kill him.
When she was almost fifteen she got her first period. The blood confused and shocked her. It was just like the first night when he’d mounted and thrust into her. Now the blood was back again. Bad blood. A sign she was unclean.
When her father found out he mumbled drunkenly, ‘We gotta be careful. Can’t getcha in the family way. Can’t do that.’
But he wasn’t careful, and it was only when her stomach began to swell that she realized with horror that a baby was beginning to grow inside her.
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