The Other Ida

by Amy Mason

  ‘The End’ appeared before Ida expected it to, and the audience broke into loud applause. There were cheers from the balcony and all around her people stood and clapped, so she got unsteadily to her feet.

  “What did you think, kiddo?” Anna whispered, turning around and waving at people behind her.

  “I loved it.”

  “Aren’t you sweet? What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.”

  “Ida,” she said.

  “I’d heard you existed! They said you did. I wanted to meet you, you know, for research. And here you are! It was meant to be.”

  People cheered, hoping Anna would wave again or something, but instead she held onto Ida’s arms with both her hands and stared right into her eyes. Her face was so small and she looked so excited, that Ida almost hugged her.

  “You’ve got to come out with us, to the afterparty. Wow. The real Ida. Right here. That’s neat, you know?”

  “Yes,” said Ida, “I suppose so.”

  Because she was sure it was meant to be, and because she was drunk and hungry and very tired, Ida didn’t protest. She was led happily outside and into a waiting car, and felt she had about as much control over the situation as she’d had over the action in the film they’d watched. Somehow these events had begun and she was powerless to stop them.

  “Hey Shirley, look at her coat! It’s kind of fifties. It’s cool.”

  Anna was pointing at Ida’s mink jacket.

  The girl, Shirley, nodded in agreement from under her heavy fringe. She offered Ida a cigarette, which she gladly took.

  “So where’s good to hang out in London, Ida, where’s good to just hang?” Anna sprawled across the seat with her legs open and she and Shirley started laughing.

  “Um, I don’t live in London. I’m not sure.” Her own voice sounded stupidly posh. She felt dizzy again.

  “I don’t live in London,” Anna said in a fake English accent and she and Shirley laughed. Ida tried to as well. The way Anna was saying things was the way mean girls at school said them, but oddly this was a kind of nice mean – she wanted Anna to tease her.

  “I’m kidding Ida, you know that, right? Jimmy’s taking us to the afterparty now anyway, aren’t you Jim?” A small dark-haired man in the passenger seat turned around.

  “That’s right, Annie, as long as you keep your legs closed and your boobs in. We’ve all seen enough of them for one night.”

  “Yeah right, Jim, you love my tits,” she leapt into Ida’s lap, pulled down the top of her dress and there was one small breast, just inches from Ida’s face. She was so light that Ida had the inexplicable urge to jump out of the car, pick her up and run away with her. For what felt like the millionth time that day she thought she was hopelessly weird.

  “She looks petrified! Doesn’t she look petrified!” shouted Shirley.

  “Shut up Shirl. I don’t blame her.” She pulled her dress back up. “We’ll be better behaved from now on in. Scouts’ honour, namesake.”

  She smiled, as if she and Ida shared a secret, and Ida felt, on some deep level, they really, actually, probably did. She was about to say just that when the car came to a halt.

  “Alright girls, we’re here. Mike and the others are in there I think, walk straight through the lobby to the Grill Room.”

  Nothing about the Café Royale Hotel’s concrete façade had prepared her for the Grill Room. It was Annie’s first time there as well.

  “Fuck me. Fuck me!” she said as they walked inside.

  “Fuck me,” repeated Ida, and immediately felt like an idiot.

  The walls and ceiling were gold and completely covered in mirrors, and around the edge of the room there were mirrored tables surrounded by red velvet seats. There were candles and oil lamps but no other lights and the band from the cinema was playing music from the film in the corner.

  Applause erupted as they stepped into the room and a handsome, fair-haired man stood up and bowed. He signalled to the band to stop.

  “Our glorious Annie,” he said and everyone clapped again. A girl took their coats and Annie took Ida’s elbow and led her towards the man. As she walked Ida could feel people’s eyes on her dress and her shoes and her hair but it wasn’t like at school. Instead of judging her they wanted to be like her, or at least they were wondering who she was. A warm feeling of pure wonder rose from her stomach to her cheeks, and she felt like Lucy must have done when she first went through the dark wardrobe and found herself in the snowy woods of Narnia.

  Everyone loved Ida. They asked her questions about her life and her mother and her house and repeated all the British expressions that she used. They were Americans, most of them, and were sniffing drugs from the table through a rolled-up ten-pound note.

  First they’d cut it up using Mike’s American Express card, slicing it then pulling it out to make lines. It looked difficult, and Ida was both shocked and fascinated but tried hard not to stare. From the corner of her eye she carefully watched how they did it, in case they offered some to her.

  “Is your Mom okay do you think? I hope she wasn’t too upset. I figured she might not like the mad Catholic angle, I know she’s kind of into religion,” said the blond man.

  “I’m sure she’s fine. She, well, she sometimes does things like that.”

  “She’s a wino, isn’t she?” asked Shirley, giggling, her angular head lolling under her dead-straight hair.

  “That’s enough,” said Annie, then, “don’t listen to her. Here…” She passed Ida the rolled-up note and Ida took a quiet breath for nerves, then leant over Annie’s thin legs and snorted the thick line of white powder. She felt like someone had poked her right in her brain, and she couldn’t help but jerk up her head and open her eyes, wide. Everyone laughed. With a ‘pow’ the wonder she’d been feeling spread, from her head to her arms to the ends of her hair. This is what heaven feels like, she thought, catching her glowing reflection in the gilt mirror to her right and grinning.

  “Wow. No you’re right, Shirley, she’s a wino, my ma,” said Ida, blinking. “She’s a wino. And a fucking bitch.”

  Everyone roared with laughter.

  “So I guess she didn’t like the film,” said Annie shrugging, scraping together another line with the card, “but did you like it? Really? That’s what I want to know.”

  “Yes – I loved it. It was intense and dramatic.”

  “Exactly. It’s all about the mood, it’s sinister and strange. You have to be more mature to get it completely,” Mike continued.

  Ida nodded.

  “I wonder how many people have snorted coke from this very table,” said Shirley, almost inaudibly, her chin on her chest.

  “Lots and lots,” said Mike. “Maybe even Oscar Wilde. You know he used to bring his boyfriend here – to this exact club. They would have been sitting where you two are, Ida and Annie, holding hands, looking lovely, making out.” He raised his eyebrow at Annie, a private joke Ida didn’t understand.

  “Come and dance,” said Annie, rubbing her nose and squeezing Ida’s hand.

  The band was playing a jazz tune and the two girls waved their arms about stupidly and pulled faces. Ida was glad that Annie was being so silly, she’d never danced outside her bedroom and wasn’t sure she could. Round the edge of the room good-looking people stood and watched them. Annie took her hands and they both leant backwards and span round and round ‘til the gilt and the mirrors became one gold blur.

  Panting, they stopped and leant towards each other. Annie touched Ida’s elbow.

  “You want to know a secret, Ida? I thought the film was kind of shitty and confusing,” she breathed hotly onto Ida’s cheek. “It might just be me. I mean, I read your Mom’s play but I couldn’t make it out. It’s just that bit on the beach, man, that has some honesty. There’ve been loads of times I wanted to walk right into the ocean and let it all out, you know?”
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br />   “I know,” said Ida.

  “Fancy some air?” asked Annie.

  Ida collected their coats while Annie hid in the loo and they ran together, the sweat cooling on Ida’s skin as they hurtled past the doormen and round the corner into an alley. Annie took her arm. She was so small Ida felt like more of a giant than ever.

  “They’ll kill me when they find out I’ve gone. We can’t be long. Where can we walk to, kid? I’m drunk. Or pissed, don’t you say pissed?”

  “Yeah. I’m pissed.” Ida tried to smile. She wasn’t sure what was funny, her feet were hurting and she felt a bit out of her depth.

  “Take off your shoes. I dare you,” Annie said.

  Ida did as she was told. The ground was cold through her tights, but not unbearably so. Everything felt sort of warm and exciting.

  “Hey mister,” Annie called out to a man walking past, “where’s good to walk to from here? Somewhere totally pretty and kind of magic.”

  “Let’s head to the river,” said Ida. “It’s magic there.”

  They walked through Piccadilly Circus and Annie asked her questions about the streets and the buildings while Ida made up answers as best she could. Although Ida noticed people recognise Anna, pointing her out to their friends, she seemed to be oblivious, gripping Ida’s elbow and gossiping about the crew on the film. At any moment, Ida was sure, she would realise she had made a terrible mistake, notice the acne on Ida’s chin, and make her way back to the party.

  As they walked past the entrance to the National Portrait Gallery, with the steps of St Martin’s over to their left, Ida began to walk more quickly, pulling Annie gently along.

  “There’s something at the end, here,” Ida said. “You’re going to love it, you’ll see.”

  They stepped into Trafalgar Square and both stood still, barely breathing, as Ida tried to work out the way she felt. It was joy, she decided, a strange, scary joy at being dwarfed by magical buildings with a magical girl on her arm. Even her blood felt magical, pumping quickly round her head. There were drunks on the steps, and people kissing, but Ida had never seen it so quiet.

  “It’s like a huge dancefloor, just for us. Man, if it was summer I’d be in those fountains like a shot,” said Annie.

  “Not summer in England you wouldn’t. It’s eerie here, isn’t it? With Nelson standing over us – all the way up there. He seems alive today, I swear. Everything feels funny today, like things are changing.”

  “Yes! The whole world’s changing.”

  “I mean, for me, tonight. I feel kind of, I don’t know, electric.”

  “I can feel it. Man, I can really feel it.” She touched Ida’s fingertips with hers.

  Ida closed her eyes, felt Annie lean towards her and then, a soft mouth on her bottom lip. Ida shuddered slightly, opened her eyes, leant down, and before she could stop herself, kissed her full on the mouth. A charge ran from her head to her shoeless feet and she pulled Annie as close to her as she could, amazed at what was happening, noticing everything around her – the low rumble of the cars driving past, the cold air on the tops of her ears, each small place where their bodies touched. A group of men walked past and whooped and Annie pulled away.

  “Thanks guys,” she shouted, looking up at Ida and smiling. “Let’s get moving, down to the river,” she stood on her tiptoes, kissed Ida’s nose and stroked the fur of her coat.

  They found their way to Embankment, then up onto a bridge and stood looking out over the black Thames. Ida had never been there before. It was far less glamorous than the other bridges she’d been to – Tower Bridge, Westminster Bridge – just a manky railway bridge with a narrow walkway. But the view of the Houses of Parliament was pretty spectacular.

  She awkwardly put her arm round Annie’s waist and wondered if she could get used to this. Annie was so sweet, so beautiful, so delicate, she felt almost scared. She wanted more drugs.

  “Look at all the lights. Think of all those guys in their houses, watching TV with their ugly husbands or wives,” Annie said. “When we’re here being all cute and happy and magic. What would you like to do with your life, Ida? If you could do anything?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “You want to be an actress. Any girl who kisses another girl in front of loads of guys, in Trafalgar Square, well, she wants to be an actress for sure.”

  “It wasn’t like that. You kissed me. And I didn’t know they were there.”

  “I just got caught up in things. You started it. ‘Ohh Annie, I feel electric’.”

  Ida could easily have cried.

  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I do feel electric. You are electric. You could be an actress, why not? There are parts for big girls. I think you’d be great.”

  Ida didn’t know what to say so didn’t reply and looked out towards the pointed silhouette of Westminster Palace, the dark houses to the left of the river and the hundreds of thousands of flickering lights. There was a rumble as a train drove onto the bridge, an almighty roar as it sped its way behind them. Ida hugged Annie as tight as she could, worried – ridiculously – that they’d get knocked over the edge and into the freezing water.

  “I used to make up plays with my sister, you know, we used to film them on the beach. Ages ago,” Ida said, appalled at the memory that their last film – the most embarrassing one of all – had only been made the year before.

  “I bet they were cute.”

  “They were weird and terrible. We did stuff from Ida too, I even did the scene on the beach, you know. Well, my own version.”

  “I bet you were good at it. I bet you could do anything you wanted to.”

  “Nothing that involves learning anything, I’ve just had to leave school. My mum called the headmistress a stupid cow and took me out.”

  Annie laughed. “School sucks. How old are you anyway? Seventeen?”

  “Yes,” Ida lied.

  “I’m twenty-three and I haven’t been to school since I was nine, not properly. I was meant to have a tutor, you know, on set, but he was just some pervert and I never listened to a word he said. You’ll be fine.”

  “Promise?” asked Ida.

  “I promise.”

  Annie gripped the railing with both hands and leant over the edge. “Imagine jumping off. It would be cold, wouldn’t it? I’ve been nuts enough to do it, not tonight, but I have been. Maybe you’ll push me.”

  Ida kissed the back of Annie’s head and she turned round, reached up, held Ida’s face and kissed her again. Her shoeless feet were numb now and for one glorious moment Ida felt she was floating somewhere above the river, held up by Annie’s arms.

  The coke was starting to wear off and Annie got worried that she’d be in terrible trouble for leaving the party. Getting back was tricky, and as they neared the Café Royale Ida felt faint and hungry but didn’t say anything to Annie. She was worried about her ma. The streets were quieter now, it was very late, and there was always the fear, which she could barely acknowledge, that Bridie would choke on her own sick, fall and break her back, or end it on purpose, properly this time.

  Annie was talking about the suite she was in at Claridges and how much Ida would love it. But Ida felt scared. She had no idea what she’d do with Annie if she got to the hotel and the thought of this perfect woman seeing her naked, or whatever she was planning, was too much to cope with.

  “I need to go home, I think, well, to the hotel. Shirley was right. My mum can be, well, dangerous.”

  “Boo. That’s a shame. It would have been fun. All the guys would have been there, partying. No problem though – some other time.”

  “The thing is, I don’t have any money for a cab, I don’t think.”

  “You serious? A girl like you doesn’t need cash. I never pay for anything. Watch this.”

  She hitched up her dress, stepped into the road and stuck out her thumb. A bl
ack cab from the other side of the street did a U-turn and pulled up next to them.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Hyde Park – the Hilton. The thing is – I don’t have any money.”

  Annie slapped her gently on the back, got into the front seat and, without hesitating, kissed the middle-aged driver passionately, her hands on his chest. Ida was jealous and proud at the same time. Annie pulled away. Ida leant in to hear what they were saying.

  “It’s okay, isn’t it, you’ll take my friend home, yeah?”

  “Ummm,” the man looked confused.

  Annie sighed. “Here, give this to your wife for her birthday, it’s worth a thousand cab rides, I promise.”

  She took off a narrow bracelet, set with something that looked like diamonds, handed it to the man, then climbed back out of the cab and stood in front of Ida. “Don’t worry, all that crap is insured,” she said.

  Then she kissed Ida in the hollow at the base of her neck while the cabbie looked at them and shook his head. “Get in then, kiddo. Sleep tight – great to meet you. Remember, you can do whatever you want to. You’ve got the power! You’re electric!”

  Ida threw her shoes onto the back seat of the taxi, climbed in after them and sprawled across the seat. The car pulled away and she sat up and turned to see the tiny figure of Anna DeCosta waving at her through the rear window, smiling her lovely, secretive smile. Ida turned away and without any warning burst into tears.

  “Fucking hell,” murmured the cabbie.

  “I’m sorry, I’m tired,” Ida said.

  She held her breath as she let herself into the room, unsure what she would find. To her surprise the lights were on and Bridie was sitting on the bed, straight-backed in her white cotton nightdress, her hair down and brushed out, watching The Munsters.

  Bridie turned round, slowly. Her face was completely free of make-up and she looked very old indeed.