Secrets (1985)

by Steel, Danielle

  I can't. She's got to clean up. It wasn't even that he loved her anymore, but he couldn't just forget her.

  Why don't you call the police? They probably know more than anyone else. He was being sarcastic and Bill looked angry, his blond good looks marred by his look of fear.

  That's not funny.

  It wasn't meant to be. You're a fool if you drag her back into your life now. And Mel isn't going to take kindly to it if he finds out you're married to a junkie. That was the whole point, at least if she cleaned up, he could quietly divorce her.

  I didn't ask you to call my press agent, I just asked you to find her.

  How? Go out with a dime bag and see if she wants it?

  God damn it! Bill exploded, as he jumped to his feet with the phone in his hand. Don't push me, Harry.

  All right ' all right ' I'll try. But for chrissake, Bill, settle down. You have a job to do there. A big one. How did today go, seriously?

  It's all right, but to tell you the truth, Harry' He had to tell someone, he could hardly stand it anymore. I'm worried sick about Sandy. It distracted him constantly. The fear of scandal for himself, and just worrying about someone he had once loved that much.

  I'll do what I can. But do me a favor. Just keep your mind on what you're doing. Harry had been hoping that he might develop an interest in the young actress he knew had been hired to be in the show opposite him, but there was no sign of that, and Harry was sorry to hear it. I'll call you if I hear anything. But Bill heard it first. Her mother called him, and it was on the news the same day. She had overdosed in a fleabag hotel on Sunset.

  Chapter 17

  The paramedics arrived just in time, and there was some question of there being brain damage this time. But when Bill called the hospital, they wouldn't let him talk to Sandy. And two days later, after calling her a hundred times, he was told that she had checked out of the hospital. And her mother said she had disappeared, and no one knew where she was again. All they knew was that she was living with a dope dealer, somewhere in Inglewood, they thought, but no one was sure, and her parents had all but given up on her. She had failed to appear in court on the charges that had been brought against her in late August, and there were warrants out for her arrest. It was a nightmarish situation, and Bill didn't know what to do. There was damn little he could do from New York, and he was struggling to keep his mind on his work. The day after she'd been found, they had had to shoot his only scene eighteen times, and he thought he'd go crazy trying not to think of her.

  Is there anything I can do to help? Jane asked gently as they rode uptown after work, but he only shook his head and averted his eyes so she wouldn't see all that he was feeling. But it was clear that something was wrong, and when he finally looked at her it was with the eyes of a tired old man.

  No, but thanks. She was a decent woman, even though he didn't have much in common with her. She talked about her kids all the time. But it was Gabrielle who really drove him crazy. She was so fucking friendly and cheerful all the time, she was like a puppy dog. She wanted him to rehearse with her during every free minute they had, and he didn't want to see her. She reminded him too much of Sandy, and that just made things harder for him.

  Even Mel noticed that he was gloomier than he had been when they arrived, but when they watched the dailies every night, his performances were flawless in spite of it.

  He's good, the director admitted. And he'll be better when he calms down. He's wound up so tight he looks like he's going to explode most of the time. But he knows his stuff. The kid is a pro. It was what saved his ass, and made the others put up with his dark moods. And the only one he really snapped at was Gabby. But she had her own problems, not that she told anyone. Her mother was calling her five times a day, and begging her to spend Christmas with them.

  Darling, give me one good reason. The voice that was pure Paris and Palm Beach and Newport, was more insistent each day, and Gabrielle fought to stay calm. She was tired of explaining it to her.

  I'm working eighteen hours a day, Mother, and I have to get up at four thirty every day.

  You have to eat. Why not eat here? In black tie, with two hundred of her parents' closest friends. It made perfect sense to Charlotte, but not to Gabrielle.

  I eat in my room, and usually I rehearse with the cast. So far it was only Jane, but she was still hoping to rehearse with Bill in their spare time. She was convinced it would improve their performances.

  That's not healthy, darling. You need to get out.

  I told you. I'll come to Christmas dinner.

  You've been here for three weeks, and we still haven't seen you. Now I'll expect you tomorrow night. They're all your old friends, and everyone's dying to see you. It was all bullshit, none of them gave a damn, and she knew it. They were all her parents' friends, and people that she hated. The biggest names in New York, the names one read in WWD and Town & Country, where the photographs showed their beautiful china and lovely crystal and tables set for casserole dinners of twenty in black tie and evening clothes. It was a life she had abhorred since she was a child, and she felt no differently now. If anything, she hated it more, and it was no longer her life. It was theirs. And these people had never been her friends. All she had ever been to them was Charlotte and Everett's daughter.

  Mother, I really can't. And I don't have anything to wear. I left everything in California. It wasn't entirely true. There were evening dresses made for her by Fran+oois Brac that she could have borrowed. No one would have said anything. She knew that Sabina had already worn two or three of the evening gowns when she went out with Mel, and no one cared, as long as they were still in good shape for the shoot.

  I'll have them send you something from Bendel's.

  I don't want something from Bende+us. She spoke through clenched teeth. I don't want to come.

  We'll expect you at seven thirty. Her mother hung up, and Gabrielle sat staring at the receiver in her hand.

  Shit. She never changed. And now she expected Gabby to come to their fucking Christmas party. It was just her luck that she had to be on location in New York. It was like being a child again and being ordered around, just as she had been when she went to Saint Paul's, and even Yale. They just never accepted her growing up. Even now. Even now that she lived on the West Coast and had a career. It didn't mean anything to them. They just pretended it wasn't there, and that she wasn't an actress.

  She was in a foul mood the next morning when she got up, and it was perfect for the scene she had to shoot with Bill. The script called for a massive argument between them, and it looked truly genuine as she shouted at him, and threw something at him. It couldn't possibly have been any better if they'd rehearsed it for weeks, and they were both pleased when they left the set, although he said nothing to her. She went back to her dressing room, and reluctantly selected a dress. It was a demure black velvet evening gown. She signed a slip and put it in a plastic bag, and she carried it home that night when she rode uptown with Jane in the limousine.

  Going somewhere? Jane looked pleased with her. She was so damn nice to everyone, sometimes Gabby felt sorry for her. She seemed lonely in a way, and she looked as though she had a crush on Zack. And it was obvious he liked her, but not with any consuming passion.

  I'm just going out with some friends. I used to live here. She almost apologized, and Jane was happy for her.

  My daughters are arriving tomorrow from L. A. I thought I'd bring them on the set, just to have a look around before we break for Christmas.

  That'll be fun for them. But Gabrielle didn't sound enthusiastic. As they drove uptown past assorted overdecorated shops on Madison Avenue, she'd never felt less festive than she did at that moment. And she knew that her parents' apartment would be as overdone as usual, with trees done by their florist that cost thousands of dollars. She had even hated them as a child. Everything was so artificial and so perfect. There was nothing warm and cozy about any of it, the way Christmas was supposed to be, with funny decorations and popc
orn strung on the tree, like other kids had. It just looked like another spread in Town & Country, and had been several times.

  The two women parted company outside their rooms, and Gabrielle went to dress, wondering how she'd gotten pushed into going to her parents' after all. She had called for a limousine at seven fifteen, and with her hair piled high on her head and the beautiful dress by Fran+oois Brac, she looked like a tiny princess as she went downstairs again, and ran into Bill, carrying an armful of magazines in the lobby. He looked momentarily intrigued as he saw her, as though he actually cared about what she might be doing. She smiled at him and mentioned the scene they'd done that afternoon.

  I thought it was super.

  So did everyone else. He sounded noncommittal.

  Didn't you?

  There's always room for improvement. He was always criticizing everything and everyone. Jane said it was because he was an unhappy man, but it sounded like a poor excuse to Gabby, for his constantly surly behavior. It was hard to understand why he would behave like that.

  Don't be so hard on yourself.

  I'm not. I just know when I could do better. Going to a party tonight? She was surprised he even cared, he barely said hello to her most of the time, and he was always curt when she spoke to him.

  Just to visit some friends.

  Nice dress. Borrow it from the show? There was something derisive about the way he said it, and her cheeks burned with a hot flush she hated herself for.

  Yes, but I signed a chit for it, in case you're worried.

  Not at all. I hear Sabina wears her wardrobe all the time. It's even in her contract she can keep it, maybe you can make the same deal. But everything he said had an edge to it, and she wanted to slap his face.

  I'll keep it in mind. She turned away, flinging the matching velvet cape over her shoulders, and he watched her for a moment and then muttered good night before hurrying to the elevator to catch it before it went upstairs. She tried to shrug off his remarks, but they had put her in a bad mood for an evening she dreaded anyway. And she knew she was right, when she rode up in the elevator on Fifth Avenue and Seventy-fourth, and her parents' butler was waiting on the landing. He was telling people where to leave their coats, and greeting everyone, and he gave Gabrielle a warm hug, as a photographer from Women's Wear Daily took her picture. And suddenly she realized what she had done. She had unwittingly exposed herself to the press, and her anonymity as Gabrielle Smith was suddenly in danger. She avoided the cameras all evening, but to no avail, there were four society reporters there, each with a photographer, and the photographers from both Women's Wear and Town & Country.

  Darling ' you look lovely ' welcome home! ' Her mother gave her a kiss, careful not to smear her own makeup, and their perfectly matched dark beauty was recorded for posterity and the readers of the Sunday papers. Her mother looked as beautiful as she always did, in a navy satin gown by Galanos, with a matching stole, and an astounding sapphire necklace with matching earrings. Your father is waiting for you in the library. She waved her gently in the direction of her father's favorite room, as hordes of new arrivals pressed her in that direction anyway, while silver trays of caviar and champagne were circulated everywhere among the guests. She recognized roughly half of the help and two thirds of the guests, and she could barely find her father in the crush that surrounded him near the bar. He was drinking his usual iced Stolichnaya on the rocks, and his eyes lit up when he saw Gabby.

  There she is ' my little girl ' oh, my, and how pretty you look. Your mother will be very jealous. His eyes always danced when he saw her. Everett Thornton-Smith adored his only child, in his wife's opinion, too much so. She had more reasonable feelings toward Gabrielle, although she loved her very much, but it had been a great disappointment to her when Gabby had insisted on her ridiculous career in Hollywood. And she was none too anxious to hear about the show. But Everett told everyone that Gabby was starring in a series by Mel Wechsler. He ticked off the names of the stars, and he grew more effusive about it with each vodka.

  She puts Sabina Quarles in the shade, I assure you! He smiled benignly at her, with an arm around her shoulders, his dinner jacket cut to perfection by his tailor in London, and the photographers recording his fatherly pride, as the reporters wrote down every word he said.

  Who is producing the show, Miss Thornton-Smith ' what was the name of the show again? ' In Hollywood, everyone knew, but in the social columns in New York, they didn't read a great deal about Melvin Wechsler. A starring role, you said' She insisted that she had a small part, and hated herself for coming. She had known it would end in disaster. Two years in Hollywood with absolutely no one knowing who she was, and now it would be all over.

  It was worse than she thought. The photographs were not only printed in Wand Town & Country in the next month, they appeared in the local papers the next morning. Large, clear photographs, showing her with her father's arm around her, toasting her with a glass of champagne, and one of her and the butler. Everett Thornton-Smith, proud father of Gabrielle, who is starring in a new series by Mel. They had even had the gall to spell his name wrong, but the picture of Gabby was unusually clear, and all the information she had hated for a lifetime was repeated for all to see, who both of her grandfathers were, Benton Thornton-Smith on her father's side, founder of six banks, the largest pharmaceutical company in the East, and several railroads. Not to mention Harrington Hawkes IV, her maternal grandfather, who made Thornton-Smith look like a pauper. And that morning, she hated them all, as she put down the paper, particularly her mother, for talking her into going. They didn't understand anything, least of all her passion for being just plain Gabby Smith, or how important it was to her career. She had dropped the Thornton at Yale, unable to take the heat she'd taken there, with a hall and a library named after her grandfather.

  There was a knock on her door just before six, and with a feeling of trepidation, she opened it. It was Jane. She was smiling as though she'd just been given a gift, and Gabby braced herself for the flak she would take that day, maybe even from Jane. She'd taken plenty of it before, but she could have lived without it. No one ever took her seriously once they knew who she was. It seemed inconceivable to anyone that she could be who she was and still work too, and maybe even be good at it.

  Hi. Gabby waited, but Jane only pranced into the room in jeans and sneakers a warm parka. The weather had been bitter the day before, and they had three outdoor scenes to do in the park, and four more in the office at IBM. But Jane seemed to be in high spirits. What's up?

  I'm just happy about seeing my girls again. It seems like ages since I've seen them. She had bought a small tree the night before, and decorated it especially for them with decorations from the five-and-ten.

  Oh. Gabby was afraid to say anything more, terrified that Jane and the rest of the world had seen the paper, or just the cast and crew, that was the worst of it.

  You okay? Jane glanced over her shoulder as Gabby put on her heavy coat.

  Yeah. Fine. But it was unlike her to be so taciturn, and they both knew it.

  Did you have a good time last night?

  No. The answer was brief and blunt and Jane didn't pursue it. Gabby had the dress over her arm in the plastic bag, and they took the limo waiting for them downstairs. Zack and Bill usually drove down in the other one, and Sabina was staying at the Pierre, so they didn't have to wait for anyone.

  Gabby, is anything wrong? Jane was worried about her as they rode to the location in the park, but Gabby insisted that there wasn't. It was freezing when they got out of the car, and there was a chill wind blowing that brought tears to their eyes. It was going to be a real bitch working in that weather. The trailers were waiting for them in the dark, and the gallons of hot coffee and hot chocolate and tea the assistants poured barely kept them going.

  As usual, only Zack and Jane seemed in high spirits as everyone else groaned and complained. The wind even managed to whistle through the trailers, and it was Bill who cast the first stone
, as he smiled at her sardonically over his cup of coffee.

  Slumming today, Gabrielle?

  She glared at him with eyes filled with fear and hatred. What's that supposed to mean? But she knew. She knew only too well. Damn ' he must have read it' .

  I enjoyed my morning paper today. I had no idea we had such a celebrity among us.

  Oh? Zack raised an eyebrow in total innocence, and Gabrielle wanted to kill herself. By lunchtime, everyone would know, and they would make her life a living hell after that. It was the story of her life, and she was so fucking tired of it.

  Too bad you're impressed with garbage like that, Mr. Warwick. She fired the words directly at Bill and walked back to her trailer and slammed the door.

  What was that all about? Private joke? Zack asked and Bill couldn't resist filling him in. It was certainly an interesting piece of gossip about Miss Thornton-Smith.

  Do you know who she is?

  I thought I did. Is she the Boston Strangler in drag, or anyone I should know?

  Ever hear of Thornton-Smith? Bill looked smug.

  The pharmaceutical company?

  Among other things.

  I think I have stock in them.

  In that case, you own a little piece of Miss Gabby.

  Zack whistled in the bitter cold air. That Thornton-Smith? Are you sure of it?

  Take a look at the back page of your morning paper. Before the obits.

  I should hope so. Zack couldn't resist borrowing somebody's paper, and he handed it to Jane when she came out for her first scene. She read the article with wide-open eyes and a look of amazement.

  And she's such a nice girl, you'd never know' .

  Just think, Bill added with a chuckle, beneath our simple little Miss Gabby Smith lies a Rich Bitch.

  I wouldn't call her that, Zack defended.

  I should say not! Jane was blunt, and she was annoyed at Bill's attitude, but suddenly she understood why Gabby had been so uptight that morning. She must have seen the paper. And it was obviously not something she bragged about, which was admirable of her. In fact, Jane thought even more of her than she had before, and she told her so later that morning. Honey, I think you're terrific.