Lori ate like a sparrow, nibbling small pieces of steak, picking at a salad. Then the music started, and David asked her to dance. She was very tall, her bird’s nest of hair making her even more so.
‘Well?’ he said when they were on the dance floor. The prospect of messing up this spectacular piece of aloofness was exciting him.
She felt his excitement and pressed closer.
‘Marve will want to go gambling when we leave here. I’ll say I’m too tired, and you’ll offer to take me to the hotel. We have separate suites. He won’t disturb us.’
He gripped her to him hard. He could feel her bones as she ground her body to the sound of the music.
‘What if it doesn’t work?’ he asked.
‘It will work.’ She gave a low laugh. ‘It always has before.’
* * *
Jay called Linda on Thursday and Friday as he had promised. Hearing from him each day gave her a feeling of well-being. He made her feel alive and attractive again.
She rushed around the shops searching for a suitable dress to beguile him with on Saturday night. Everything seemed to have been made for flat-chested seventeen-year-olds. She finally settled for a very simple white crepe shift, much too expensive, but beautifully cut. She spent the day absorbed in her children, taking them for a long walk on the heath and letting them ride on the donkeys. She loved the kids, and with Jay in her life she seemed to love them even more.
She took her time getting ready for him – long, hot scented bath, white crepe dress, a few pieces of good jewellery. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him making love to her. Did he want to? He obviously liked her a lot. Would he make a pass at her tonight?
Make a pass – what a juvenile thought. She was a divorced woman with two children, not a teenager on a second date.
Would he want to sleep with her tonight? That was more like it. She wanted him, she needed him. It had been a long time. Finally she was ready, and he was, as usual, on time.
‘You look lovely,’ he said. ‘You don’t mind if we stop at a party for a few minutes? Business.’
The party was in Belgravia, an elegant pre-Victorian house complete with butler and maid at the door.
Linda was immediately intimidated. She glanced around the luxurious living room and recognized several well-known faces. The place seemed to be filled with stars and beautiful young girls. Jay knew everyone. He moved around, greeting people, while she trailed miserably behind him, feeling out of place and suddenly plain.
To top it all, a gorgeous blond whom she recognized as Susan Standish put her arm around him intimately and whispered loud enough for her to hear, ‘You bastard! How dare you leave before I woke up this morning!’
Jay pushed the girl away, laughing easily.
Linda turned and walked across the room. Nobody seemed interested in talking to her. It was one of those parties where everyone was a ‘somebody’ in the film industry, and unless you were a ‘somebody’ or a beautiful young starlet, nobody wanted to know.
She found a chair and sat down. What a fool she had been. Jay wasn’t interested in her, he was probably just sorry for her. She sat brooding. After all, he was a big director, he had the pick of all the girls in London. What could she offer him that he couldn’t get more brightly packaged elsewhere?
He was heading in her direction. She turned on a bright smile, mustn’t let him see she was upset – embarrass him, what for? There was nothing between them.
‘Why did you rush off?’ he asked, his eyes faintly amused. ‘You left me in the clutches of a female would-be star – always in hot pursuit of us poor old directors. Why didn’t you stay and protect me?’
She felt like saying, ‘You slept with her last night, what do you expect?’ Instead she just smiled and said, ‘I don’t know. I thought I’d sit down for a while.’
‘We can go in a minute. I had to put in an appearance, otherwise Jan would never let me forget it.’ He pointed to a striking woman in her forties, their hostess.
They left soon after and dined at a small French restaurant in Chelsea. Before they were halfway through their meal he asked her what was wrong.
Linda was bad at concealing her feelings, and her manner with Jay had become almost stilted. ‘Nothing.’ Inexplicably she found her eyes filling with tears.
He changed the subject. ‘Let’s take the kids out tomorrow. I’m looking forward to meeting them.’
She couldn’t think of an excuse. ‘All right.’ She nodded numbly. ‘Would you mind if I went home now? I’ve got a headache.’
He looked surprised but didn’t question her. He paid the check and they left.
Conversation was sparse travelling back to Finchley. Linda found the presence of the chauffeur sitting faceless in the front a deterrent.
At the door she offered Jay her hand and he shook it gravely. ‘I’ll see you and the kids about twelve tomorrow. We’ll take them to lunch,’ he said.
She nodded listlessly. In the morning she would phone and cancel.
* * *
The wedding reception was crowded.
‘Steer me to the bar. I need a drink!’ Claudia said at once.
‘I s-s-say, shouldn’t we try to find them first?’ Jeremy stuttered, looking vacantly around.
‘No, let’s get a drink.’
They headed for the bar. Claudia had a fast glass of champagne and felt better. She surveyed the crowd, a lot of Shirley’s pseudo society friends and a group of American film people.
‘Dreary-looking bunch,’ she commented sharply.
Jeremy looked at her vaguely.
A waiter passed with a tray of canapés, and she grabbed a few. ‘Ugh – lousy food!’ she exclaimed. ‘A bit of dried-up old sausage meat, sort of like the bridegroom!’ She giggled and gulped down some more champagne.
Two tall, thin, slightly less acned replicas of Jeremy approached them. ‘J. Francis, old chap,’ one of them announced loudly, clamping his hand firmly on Jeremy’s shoulder and surveying Claudia. ‘How are we, then?’
‘Oh, h-h-hello, Robin.’
Robin released his grip on Jeremy. ‘Who’s your lovely lady?’
Jeremy waved his arms about. ‘Er, Claudia P-P-Parker – this is Robin Humphries.’
‘Lord Humphries, old boy. Let the girl know who she’s talking to.’ He smiled at Claudia, revealing a line of crooked nicotine-stained teeth.
She smiled back. She was sipping her fourth glass of champagne.
The other young man pressed anxiously forward. ‘I’m Peter Fore-Fitz Gibbons.’ he said.
‘I say, C-C-Claudia,’ – Jeremy edged between her and Robin and Peter – ‘we really should go and look for S-S-Shirley and her h-h-husband.’
‘Whatever you say, lover.’ She winked at the two young men. ‘See you later. Keep it up.’
They exchanged puzzled looks.
‘Funny girl, eh?’ Robin said.
‘Must be funny to be out with old Jeremy,’ Peter agreed.
They watched her as she swayed across the room.
‘Wouldn’t mind a slice,’ Robin said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Peter.
Claudia spotted Shirley. She made her way over fast. ‘Shirley! You dark horse!’ She stood firmly in front of her, one hand balancing a glass of champagne, the other holding onto Jeremy.
Shirley didn’t bat an eyelid. She smiled politely. ‘Claudia, darling, such a surprise! So glad you could make it, and Jeremy, poppet.’ She stood on tiptoe while he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. ‘Divine to see you both.’
‘Where’s the bridegroom?’ Claudia asked, her words slurring slightly.
‘He’s around somewhere,’ Shirley said brightly. ‘Love your hair style, darling. Wish I could get away with such a harsh cut.’
Claudia smiled. ‘I’m sure you could.’
Jeremy stammered, ‘Jolly good show, this whole thing.’
Both girls ignored him.
‘Conrad was telling me about the fun you had the other
night,’ Shirley said, her voice sugary.
Claudia gave her a sharp look. ‘Yes, I thought you would be there.’
Shirley giggled softly. ‘Why be there, when I can see the film?’
‘What film?’ Claudia’s voice became harsh.
‘Oh, Conrad always takes a film of those evenings.’ Shirley smiled triumphantly. ‘Didn’t you know, it’s his hobby, actually. You must come over one night, and we’ll show it to you.’
Claudia stared at her, a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew Shirley wasn’t lying.
‘Well, darling,’ Shirley continued, ‘you did say you wanted to be in his movie.’ With a tinkling laugh she turned away to greet another guest.
Claudia stood there, furious and burning. That son of a bitch!
Jeremy said, ‘I say, old girl, everything s-s-super?’
She snatched her arm away. ‘Shut up, asshole.’
‘What,’ he spluttered, looking hurt.
‘Nothing.’ She finished the last of her drink and handed him the empty glass. ‘Get me some more, will you?’
She had seen Conrad. He was joking and laughing with an elderly couple.
She swayed over. ‘Hey, man,’ she said in a loud voice. ‘Congratulations.’
His piercing eyes swept over her with disinterest. Shirley walked over and attached herself protectively to his arm.
Claudia smiled at Shirley. ‘He’s a lousy lay – but then, I hear you are too, so that makes it cosy.’
The elderly couple exchanged glances and edged away. Jeremy appeared at that moment with a fresh glass of champagne.
Claudia took it and held it up to them. ‘Here’s to a couple of beat-up old fucks!’
People nearby were turning to stare.
Conrad said in a low, controlled voice, ‘Get the hell out of here, cunt.’
Claudia smiled. ‘My pleasure, cocksucker.’ She took hold of a startled Jeremy’s arm. ‘Come on – let’s split from this wake.’
A scarlet Jeremy exited with her.
Outside she started to laugh. ‘Wasn’t that funny? Wasn’t that too much?!’
Jeremy stood there, his face a bright embarrassed red. ‘I s-s-say, Claudia, how could you—’
‘How could I what, man? It was only a giggle.’ She suddenly flung her arms around him and kissed him, forcing his stiff lips open with her tongue.
‘Come on, let’s go back to my place and have some fun.’
Jeremy was reluctant to go, secretly wanting to return to the wedding reception and apologize. But Claudia insisted. ‘I’ll show you what it’s all about, baby,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll give you a trip you’ll never forget.’
Back at her apartment, she fixed strong drinks and turned on the record player full blast.
Jeremy sat rigid and unsure of himself, while she danced around the room undulating her body and peeling off her dress.
She didn’t take much notice of him as she got carried away with the music. She danced and caressed her own breasts, then, suddenly ready for him, she came over to where he sat and began to pull his clothes off.
He started to object.
‘What are you – a faggot?’ she screamed.
He got up and bolted for the door, running down the stairs like a startled rabbit.
Claudia followed him, yelling insults, but he didn’t come back. In her drunken haze she was amazed. It was the first time a man – well, whatever he was – had turned her down. He had to be gay; those chinless-wonder types usually were.
She went back into the apartment and swigged from the Scotch bottle. Lousy faggot! How dare he refuse her. Probably couldn’t do it. She giggled, and then her eyes inexplicably filled with tears. What was her life all about? Where was she getting? It didn’t seem to be very far. All she wanted was to be a star. Was that asking so very much?
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She turned the music even louder, then lay on the floor by the speakers. The volume of the music excited her. She started to manipulate her own body – if that crazy skinny fag couldn’t satisfy her, then she would just have to do it herself.
Before she could complete the job she fell into a deep drunken sleep, her snores mingling with the sound of John Lennon singing ‘I’m a Loser’.
* * *
True to what Lori had said, after dinner Marvin immediately announced he wanted to gamble. The four of them stood in a huddle on the pavement in front of the restaurant.
‘Wanna come and be my lucky charm?’ Marvin asked Lori.
She wrapped her mink coat tightly around her and shook her head.
Cowboy Boots, anxious to be off, stamped around.
‘Well, I guess I’ll just play a little craps, then,’ Marvin said.
‘I’ll see Lori back to the hotel if you like.’ David quickly seized the opportunity.
‘That’s mighty nice of you,’ Marvin boomed. He kissed Lori on the cheek. ‘All winnings for you, sugar.’ And with a brief handshake to David, he and Cowboy Boots were away in a cloud of cigar smoke and resonant Texan drawls. He was obviously a trusting husband. Either that or he couldn’t care less.
Lori laughed. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’
They walked around the corner to his car, and Lori whispered to him, ‘Are you big? I only like big men.’
In the car she acted like a bitch in heat, grabbing for him immediately. He was proud of what he had to offer. Quickly he drove to the hotel.
Lori swept through the lobby, haughty and imperial, her white mink drawing envious stares from women. She stopped and greeted an actor she knew. The man gave David an amused look.
Her suite was on the sixth floor, very luxurious, furnished in opulent blue and silver. She threw her mink casually over a chair. ‘Make yourself a drink, honey,’ she drawled. ‘I’m just going to put on something more comfortable.’ Her dialogue was straight out of a Hollywood movie! He opened a bottle of champagne conveniently on ice and poured two glasses. This was the life! A beautiful woman in beautiful surroundings, champagne, what more could a man ask?
She came back soon – wearing a sheer black negligee, her hair still piled high. He handed her a glass of champagne and she took a small sip, then lay down on the sofa, the negligee falling back slightly, revealing milky-white thighs.
He didn’t feel quite ready. She held out her arms to him. ‘Come to baby, honey,’ she drawled.
He put his drink down and went to her.
‘There’s a silk robe in the bathroom,’ she purred. ‘Why don’t you get out of your clothes and be comfortable like me.’
He did feel a bit restricted, and the setting seemed too perfect to start struggling out of his clothes all over the floor.
He kissed her on the mouth, tasting her lipstick, and then went to the bathroom and put on the robe she had suggested. It was paisley silk, probably her husband’s. He admired his masculine figure in the mirror, not bad for forty!
She was waiting for him, draped across the sofa, looking like a Vogue advertisement. He took her in his arms.
She put her hands inside his robe, scratching his chest gently with talon-like fingernails.
He stroked her body. She was very thin, with small hard breasts and extended large nipples. An exciting body – not soft and warm like Linda, nor curvy and exciting like Claudia. But very sensuous, all the same. Like a smooth white snake.
He parted her negligee. Her legs were exceptionally long, crowned at the top by a small mound of silver-blond hair, matched perfectly to the hair on her head. She opened them slowly, her hands moving around his back, digging her nails into him, pulling him closer.
With surprise he realized he wasn’t yet ready. To distract her from this fact he moved his head to her breasts and started to kiss them.
She moaned softly, digging her nails even harder into his back. After a few minutes she grew impatient, and her hands travelled down his body. Her eyes were closed, but they snapped open suddenly when she felt him.
‘What’s the matter, honey?’ she
purred, a slight edge to her voice. ‘This is real Georgia pussy!’
Embarrassed, he said, ‘It’s nothing, just give me a moment.’
Annoyed, she closed her eyes again, this time her hands working on him, pulling, stroking, kneading.
‘Come on, sugar,’ she pleaded, ‘this little snatch is waiting for you!’
His physical reaction was nil. This was a nightmare, something that had never happened to him before. He grew panicky, conjuring up every erotic picture he could think of.
Nothing, absolutely nothing.
He tried to remember the last time he had had sex. Mousy Miss Field, his horrifying secretary. Desperately he thought of the evening he had spent with her.
Suddenly it was all right. He felt himself swelling, growing big, bigger.
Lori sighed with pleasure. ‘That’s beautiful, honey.’ She wrapped her long pale legs around him as he started to enter her, forcefully, powerfully. He would show her!
He drove into her. Strong, brutal thrusts.
She squealed with delight. ‘Ooh – ooh – that’s great, honey – that’s wild – ooh – don’t stop – don’t stop.’ Her voice changed. ‘Why have you stopped?’
He didn’t reply. He was too overcome with embarrassment. He had heard about this happening to other men, but not to him.
She was getting angry. Her sleek, sexy drawl turned shrill. ‘What’s the matter with you? Are we going to ball or not? If I want this sort of action, I can get it with my husband!’
He rolled off. ‘I’m sorry.’
Furious, she sat up. ‘You’re sorry.’ She stood up too, her hard breasts and exotic nipples staring accusingly at him. ‘Get the hell out of here. I’ve got to find myself a real man.’
Humiliated, he went to the bathroom and dressed.
When he came out she was on the phone purring, ‘Sure, honey, in ten minutes’ time will be fine.’
He let himself out feeling ashamed. What a terrible thing to happen, and why? He had fancied her strongly. It wasn’t her fault. Although maybe it was. She made no secret of the fact that there were many men other than her husband.
He went to the bar and ordered a brandy. By the time he had finished it he had convinced himself it was all Lori’s fault. Lousy bitch! She had castrated him with thoughts of all the other men. They were all the same, women. They all wanted to render you impotent in one way or the other.