by Liz Nugent
I borrowed Gerald’s rental car and drove out to see her, knocking on her door shortly before eleven a.m. She answered the door, looking flustered. Surprised to see me, but smoothing her hair and removing her apron, revealing long tanned legs in denim shorts as she came to the porch.
‘William Drumm! Why didn’t you call? Are you in town for the Oscars?’
She was glowing, full of health, and her whitened teeth beamed at me. ‘I don’t suppose you need a date for the big night?’
I passed through her kitchen and into her lounge, ignoring the mess of baking trays and weighing scales.
‘Talaya, I need to ask you … to tell you … A couple of months after we last hooked up, I started to feel … bad and … well, I had to get tested –’
‘Oh, honey, HIV? Me too. Did you give it to me? I should have forced you to use condoms. I got hit in 2016. Swear to God, I thought I was gonna die. But these drugs are great, right?’
‘Wait, I don’t think I gave it to you.’
She threw up her hands. ‘Well, we weren’t exactly dating exclusively so who knows? How are you doing though? Your cell count okay? You got the antiretrovirals in Ireland, right? You look good!’
‘Yes.’ I sat down and began to shake. ‘I infected my wife, before I knew I had the virus …’
‘I thought you weren’t married?’
‘I wasn’t … we’d been separated for a long time, but occasionally, we fell back into … bad habits.’
‘You never mentioned her. Is she doing okay?’
‘No, she … well, she got cancer, a really fast-growing lymphoma, and that’s when we found out she was HIV positive too, but it was too late for her. I swear I never went near her after the diagnosis, but I must have infected her before I knew. I mean, it wasn’t HIV that killed her, but –’
‘Oh no! Will, I’m so sorry. You can’t blame yourself for that. Sounds like you really cared for her, yeah?’
‘Yes, I did. I don’t blame myself for her death, but she was so angry with me.’
‘Who all knows about this?’
I realized that Talaya had not been keeping tabs on me the way I had on her.
‘Everyone. And now those MeToo bitches are on my tail. Jesus, all I did was grab a few asses. I’m not a monster.’
Talaya put down the coffee pot and turned to face me slowly.
‘MeToo bitches? Will Drumm, you are lying to yourself. You played nice with me because you knew I wouldn’t accept it, but I have seen the way you treat other women. More vulnerable women, younger, those poor little pretty ones hoping for a break. You’re a predator.’
Her tone changed. Was Talaya also going to turn on me? After everything I’d done for her?
‘What are you on about? I didn’t notice you standing up for your “sisters”.’
‘Fuck you, it’s not my responsibility to manage your grabby hands and your filthy mouth.’
‘But you came out to dinner with me, you played the game very well.’ I could be sarcastic too.
‘I’m calling you on it, Will, I’m a witness. I have seen you grope women. I have heard your nasty comments. I have seen you nudging the other male execs, like little-ass teenage boys. You think because I let you in my bed that I’m just some dumb bitch. I’m trying to make a living, same as you. And you were useful, for a while.’
‘I’m not a rapist.’
‘You don’t have to be a rapist to be an asshole.’
‘Why are you being like this? I never hurt you. I never raped anyone.’
‘No, but you sure as hell don’t think of us as equal. MeToo? I don’t give a damn what you do. I look after me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to expose you. I have better things to do with my life. But I think it’s very interesting that you have waited, what, two years to tell me you had the virus?’
‘Yeah, well, I highly doubt I was your only lover. I bet that ass has been all over town.’
She laughed in my face. ‘Get out of my house, Will, and never come back. And by the way,’ she wiggled her little finger, ‘you’ll never be able to find a clitoris with that.’
I left Talaya’s house thinking what a bitch she was, what a whore. You can’t trust any of them.
Brian
I had called Will and asked him to come to my room as soon as his meeting was over. He turned up in a dark mood. Obviously, the business meeting hadn’t gone well. He anticipated exactly what I’d wanted to talk to him about.
‘We’re going to have to do something about Luke.’ I paced my room. ‘He’s not going to win that Oscar, but he’s a liability. He could say anything to anyone. It’s obvious that he’s really edgy. He’s drinking again.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know. Is this going to turn into an episode or is he just depressed?’
‘If he was just depressed, his ex-girlfriend wouldn’t be here babysitting him. I’m worried. If he releases some crazy statement, we could be headline news for the next week. This is the first time since her death that I’m glad Mum’s gone. Can you imagine what he might say about her in public?’ Mentioning Mum always got Will’s attention.
‘What? Would he?’
‘I’m more concerned about Daisy. If he does anything to upset her on the red carpet –’
‘Exactly. And if Mary is no longer going to be responsible for him, then it’s back to us,’ Will said.
‘Maybe we could get him sectioned?’
‘Here? Today?’
‘I don’t know. Daisy’s face lit up at the thought of the red carpet. I don’t want to take that away from her. But she’s not able for any more drama. She told me. I couldn’t bear to lose her, and I don’t think you could either.’
‘Lose her again, you mean?’ William was still angry.
‘We would all lose. Are you prepared to take the risk?’ I was definitely not prepared to take the risk.
‘Look, let’s just go and confront him now,’ Will said.
‘Okay, but don’t lose your temper with him. We have to be careful. Talk him down. Or find a way to shut him up. Whatever it takes.’
William
Brian and I went together to Luke’s room on the ninth floor. As we were about to knock on the door, a young man in a baseball cap and leather jacket exited. Brian held the door open with his foot, and asked the teenager who he was, but the boy pulled his baseball cap down and almost ran towards the exit door at the end of the corridor. When we entered the room, Luke glanced upwards but did not stop what he was doing. A rolled-up dollar bill in his hand, he snorted three fat lines of cocaine off the glass-topped coffee table and took a swig from a bottle of Stolichnaya, already half empty.
‘You know, I think they put glass-topped tables in these rooms on purpose?’ he said, hopping up out of his chair to go to the minibar. ‘What can I get you, gentlemen?’
‘For fuck’s sake, Luke! What are you doing? Are you mad?’ Brian shouted. And he had urged me to be calm.
‘Yes, but I thought you already knew that.’
Brian continued to berate him while I scanned the room for the jacket that Luke had worn to breakfast. It was lying across the bed behind Luke.
‘I’ll have a Jack Daniels if you have one,’ I said as I positioned myself at the end of the bed. Brian glared at me.
Luke offered me the rolled-up dollar bill. I shook my head. ‘I’m too old for that shit. So are you.’
Brian looked at Luke in exasperation. ‘I’m not letting Daisy walk up the red carpet with you while you’re coked out of your head.’
‘Good, because the last thing Daisy needs is a red carpet,’ said Luke. ‘Daisy needs to go home, go back to college, get away from all of us and try to lead a normal life.’
‘As if you’d know, Luke, you’ve never been a father,’ I said. I was hardly going to take a lecture about Daisy from my psychotic brother.
‘Nor have you,’ he said. ‘Neither of you have done a great job of being her dad and you both got a turn, didn’t you? And I might have been a good da
d, and a good husband, if you hadn’t bullied my girlfriend into dumping me and having an abortion.’
I sighed. ‘Kate told you that? I did you a favour. Look at you, you could have fucked up two more lives.’
Brian looked at me. ‘My God, you are far worse than I ever thought. You forced her to have an abortion?’
‘Yep,’ said Luke, ‘he blackmailed her into it. And she went along with it, for me.’ He chopped out more coke on the table.
‘You are such a prick,’ Brian said to me. ‘That poor girl.’
‘Oh, Brian, what about you?’ Luke turned his attention to Brian. ‘We’ll never really know, will we, whether you fiddled with a schoolgirl –’
‘That’s bullshit – you know that’s not –’
‘But we do know how you ripped me off, how you manipulated me into selling my home, the only asset I had, when I was clearly out of my mind. We know you sold stories about me to the tabloids. Your craven jealousy was always obvious. But so was your meanness. You took advantage of every deal you got for me, and you’re a cheater too. Sleeping with your brother’s girlfriend? You have nothing to be smug about.’
Luke was right, and given his state of inebriation, he was surprisingly articulate about it. He took another swig from the vodka bottle and bent towards the table, dollar bill in hand.
‘Susan was mine before Will ever set eyes on her. And he knew it!’
‘Yours?’ said Luke. ‘She wasn’t a piece of property, Brian. She was an adult woman who chose Will and you never got over it.’
‘Fuck you, fuck you both!’ said Brian.
While they were arguing like the schoolboys I remembered, I had reached back and rifled through the inside pocket of Luke’s expensive linen jacket.
‘What is this supposed to be?’ I said, and they both turned to look at me. I was holding the pages that Luke had tucked neatly away. I held up the two sheets of paper, turning them back and forth. They were full of childish squiggles and indecipherable hieroglyphics.
‘That’s my speech. I’m going to tell everyone about my loving family,’ said Luke, and his voice had turned childlike again.
He put his hand to his throat and then watched intently as if an invisible spider was walking down his arm into his hand. He turned his face away and jumped over the sofa to the balcony doors behind him, flinging them open. He stood out on the balcony overlooking the Hollywood Hills. ‘Please,’ he whimpered, ‘please, leave me alone.’
Brian and I looked at each other and followed Luke on to the balcony into the LA sunshine. Luke was having an episode.
‘Who are you talking to, Luke?’ I asked. It was as if a firework had exploded in Luke’s head.
‘Luke. You need to calm down. You can’t go to the ceremony in this state. Where’s your phone? We need to call your therapist.’
Brian automatically reverted back to the nanny role he was so used to. Luke didn’t answer. He was murmuring incoherently into his hand.
‘I think it’s better if he doesn’t go to the ceremony. For all of us,’ I said.
Brian looked from me back to Luke.
Luke started to cry and wail, hysterical, talking to some invisible tormentor. ‘No! This can’t happen, you can’t do it to her. No!’
‘We have to get him sectioned. Now,’ I said.
Luke crouched in the corner of the balcony, flinging his left hand forward as if trying to swat a fly or shake water from his hand.
‘What?’ said Brian. ‘What’s happening? What’s wrong? Come back inside, Luke!’
Luke looked back down into his hand. ‘It has Daisy’s face now. It’s got Daisy!’
He backed away and jumped to sit up on the edge of the balcony with cocaine-fuelled energy, throwing his hand outwards as if trying to get rid of the spider that neither of us could see.
‘Luke! What are you doing? What are you saying about Daisy?’ I said, but Luke was wild-eyed and determined.
He stood up on the balcony’s ledge. It was eighteen inches wide. There was a sheer drop below to the paved area beside the pool. ‘Daisy,’ he said, ‘she’s in trouble, I know she is.’
Brian and I looked at each other. We didn’t dare to acknowledge the thought that I am certain was flitting through our minds. It would take so little effort.
‘Daisy is with Mary at some beauty salon. She’s fine,’ I replied.
‘You don’t understand, you’ll never understand.’
Brian looked back at me and shook his head. He put his hand up towards Luke and gestured to me, and reluctantly I did the same thing. ‘Take our hands, Luke, get down and come back inside.’
We three brothers all looked, one to the other. We knew it was inevitable. In that moment, we realized we had always known, but the moment dragged, and eventually, not trusting either of us, Luke reached forward for our hands. As our hands touched, Brian looked at me and pulled his hand away first, unbalancing Luke, who lurched backwards, and then, just as Luke tried to grasp my hand, I jammed it into my pocket. Brian and I would never speak of this moment for the rest of our lives.
As Luke fell backwards, we saw him smile at us as we betrayed him. The saintly, martyred smile we remembered from childhood. And then he disappeared from view.
We stepped to the edge, but he was already smashed on the patio below. Implausibly broken. Brian and I locked eyes, reflecting in each other’s dark pupils something between horror and elation. Before the hotel staff hammered on the door of the suite, we held each other, weeping. We told each other it was okay, that it was for the best, that Luke was finally at peace.
April 2019
Daisy
Will and Brian are taking me out for my birthday lunch today. They have put the issues surrounding my paternity and my mother’s death behind them. They are friends now, apparently. Or they are trying to give that impression. They have left show business behind and are working in property development. They have told me I can think of both of them as my dad or as my uncle.
I miss my mother so much. She was the stable person in my life. I wish I could take back all the awful things I said to her. I always knew that Dad was unfaithful, but I thought Mum was the steady one. I couldn’t forgive her until it was too late. I think she died hating me, hating all of us, and I can’t blame her.
Luke’s death put us all in the spotlight. The Oscars went ahead, but black armbands, hastily rescued from some prop store, were handed out on the red carpet, and that whole galaxy of stars who had never met my uncle gave interview after interview about him and their shock at the news. They suspended the announcement of his category on the night, out of respect. As it turned out, he hadn’t won. But his film, after his death, made $700 million at the box office, one of the top-ten grossing films of all time. Luke would not have been able to enjoy that success. His death was ruled as a drug-and-alcohol-related suicide. His fame is now legendary, like Marilyn Monroe or Kurt Cobain. Teenagers make pilgrimages to Glendalough, not to see the monastery founded by St Kevin in the sixth century, but to be at the site where Luke’s brothers scattered his ashes.
Brian and Will and I went to a rented villa in the South of France for a month after Luke’s suicide. We all agreed not to respond to emails or phone calls from the media. We closed our social media accounts. When we came back to Ireland, we locked ourselves away and demanded our privacy. I like it. Brian and Will have been able to move on. I am stuck in a loop of relentless grief and guilt and horror. I can see no escape.
When Brian was managing Luke, he ensured that Luke made a will. Having no children of his own, he left his entire estate to me. I don’t know why. I’m guessing Brian suggested it. Luke and I were never particularly close. He found me annoying. I think perhaps he wanted me to be financially independent so I wouldn’t have to rely on fame to make a living. But when Mum died, I got her house and her entire estate so I have plenty of money without having to work for it.
I have no agent now. I don’t go on social media and I don’t blog. I don’t leave my ho
use very often, except to get food, and even that I can get online, if needs be. Food is always going to be an issue for me, but at least I have someone who tells me what to do. She is like a toddler’s voice in my head. In my mind’s eye, she is the doll I had when I was a child. Only I can hear her. Sometimes she tells me to eat. Sometimes she tells me to starve. I listen to her because I don’t think there is anyone else I can trust.
I have dressed up for my lunch date with Will and Brian. I have decided to wear the dress that I had altered specially for the Oscars last year. It will unnerve them. I am still very thin, thinner than I was then, so I had to adjust the dress again. I am angry with them. I want everyone to be punished in the end. So does my little friend.
I look out of my bedroom window. I can see the two of them getting out of Brian’s car. They are both carrying gifts. Will’s is twice the size of Brian’s. I can see they are eyeing each other’s offerings. Brian’s is in a blue Tiffany bag and Will is worried that Brian will upstage whatever he has bought.
You can’t buy your way out of guilt, gentlemen. I am determined to make you suffer. When we go to this very exclusive restaurant, I intend to order the most expensive thing on the menu, and you will be so pleased with yourselves, and then I’ll watch your faces fall when you realize I’m not going to eat any of it. We will enjoy that, my little friend and I.