Dirty Movies (47 page)

In
the end it was GBA who swiped the headlines, with Stephen storming to victory in the Best Director and Best Film categories. Even the mawkish twenty second long dedication to Vincent in the
In Memoriam
segment, that had prompted more sniggers than sobs, failed to dent, let alone scratch the glossy paintjob of his jubilation. He had ridden out the headlines and come up trumps. He was a shoe-in for the Oscars now.

As
the curtain fell on a night of mixed fortunes for Joe, Michael and Christine, they exited the Opera House to a chorus of ‘better luck next times’, and made their way to Sunset House.

Snail-crawling
across Soho, bumper to bumper through the narrow one-way system, Christine was surprisingly upbeat about losing out to Maisie again.

‘The way I look at it, I’ve already won two
,’ she said to Michael, as she snapped open her compact, ‘another would have made my shelf lopsided. What I really need is a second Oscar to even things up.’

‘Let’s hope you’re successfu
l in a fortnight then,’ he responded, dryly. ‘It’ll be a wonderful relief to get the aesthetics of your study sorted.’ He felt a vibration in his pocket as another congratulatory text came through.

Good job
, Son. Walt.

Michael frowned. His father never
acknowledged his successes; not the Producer’s Guild Award, nor the five Oscar Nominations, not even his Straight ‘A’ Report Cards from High School or the Star Quarterback appellation. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it though as their car pulled up to the smart brick frontage of Sunset House.

It
wasn’t the official BAFTA after-show party venue, but with every single British film industry patron out on the town tonight, many of whom were members, it was guaranteed to be an after-dinner, après-schmooze fallback option for most. In light of this, the club’s management had gone completely OTT with the décor. Swathes of gold silk had been draped across the ceilings of every room, like multi-millionaire circus tents, and enormous, gilded BAFTA award moulds hung from the walls, unsettling even the drunkest of partygoers with their cold, expressionless faces.

Anticipating a GBA walkover, Christine had insisted they lament their losses here
, in the company of good friends and not self-satisfied wolves. The plan had worked brilliantly until just before midnight when, in the aftermath of another public bust-up with Maisie after she caught him with his hand down the knickers of an attractive young BBC Films Producer, Stephen had fled to Sunset House and strolled in with his new business partner, the aptly-titled Toad Norris, as squat and slimy as his name suggested, and a very tense-looking Danny. This was just as Michael was delivering a touching, heartfelt thanks to his team.

With his back to the door, the American couldn’t figure out why the mood in the bar had
suddenly switched direction faster than a soap character’s love life. Then came the familiar snort of disdain. Whipping round, he saw Stephen clicking his fingers at the bar staff and pointing to a Magnum of Bollinger.

‘Oh
, don’t stop on my account,’ mocked the director, propping himself up on the bar with his elbow. ‘I do realise that total losers like yourselves need to keep your spirits pepped. Almost as much as we winners like downing them.’ As if to prove the point, a waitress handed him a chilled glass of bubbly and he sank it in one.

‘Ignore him
,’ hissed Joe, as Michael took a threatening step forward.

‘I’d much rather you congratulated me
,’ called out Stephen, emboldened by the presence of his new business partner, Toad Norris, who was a champion cage-fighter in his spare time.

‘I’d much rather stick that magnum bottle up your ass
,’ roared Michael.

Meanwhile
, Polly was staring at Danny who was staring at the floor. Stephen clocked her hovering between Joe and Michael.

‘Polly Winters
,’ he said, distastefully, as if he’d spotted dog shit besmirching the heel of his Versace loafer. ‘What a dubious pleasure it is to see you again. I’ve never known a runner make such an awful cup of coffee. I only kept you around for a glimpse of your tits when you bent down to lick my shoes. Rather like a peekaboo game for non-consenting adults.’

Now it was Michael’s turn to grab Joe
. He shunted Christine into a nearby yukka in his haste to wrap his hands around his brother’s neck. Stephen looked mildly intrigued by his volcanic reaction, shifting his gaze from Polly to Joe and back again like a ponderous pendulum. Throwing his head back, he chuckled nastily.

‘Oh how adorable,
isn’t this turn-up for the books? Two losers don’t make a winner, you know. Do give me a call if you ever get engaged, Polly. I do so enjoy fucking a newlywed sister-in-law,’

‘What a ghastly thought
,’ spoke up Rachel, who was stood behind her. ‘Despite the obvious turn-offs Stephen, you’re such a narcissistic arsehole, going to bed with you would be duller than Newsnight.’

Stephen tutted. ‘Oh dear, what do we have here? Another useless ex-employee? You must excuse me
, Rachel darling, but I didn’t recognise you with only one chin. Still, I guess it’s true what the fashionistas say; you really
can
be skinny and ugly at the same time.’

‘Where the fuck do you get off being so rude to people?’ howled Michael.

‘The perks of fame I guess,’ shrugged Stephen, picking up his refilled champagne glass and steering his odd assortment of minions towards the door. ‘Not that you lot will ever know. Your nominations are a farce. With any luck you’ll be sinking back into obscurity, whilst i’m still cresting on the wave of my Oscar success.’

Just then
, Benito, who had disappeared minutes earlier in search of the gents, strode into the room, took one look at Stephen - the source of years of untold misery for his beloved Christine - and decided to be anything other than gentlemanly.

Hearing a great bear-like roar,
and spying a clenched fist the size of a jack hammer heading straight for his face, the director squealed and shot out of the bar with Toad Norris hot on his heels.  Neither man’s Harley Street dental surgeons did out-of-hours emergencies. Stephen would rather take on Maisie’s tantrums than Benito’s bristling six foot seven inches any day of the week.

Whilst
Christine did her best to soothe and restrain her lover from following her ex and smashing his face in as easily as one of Sunset House’s fake BAFTA moulds, Joe and Janie took turns to comfort a livid Rachel. With everyone else preoccupied dissecting the incident over hasty refills, Polly quietly slipped out of the room.

Plunging down the narrow, stripped pine staircase two steps at a time, she caught up with Stephen in the entrance hall
, just as the coat attendant, who had been bunged a hasty fiver, was handing him and Danny their coats.

‘Why do you hate him so much?’ she
cried out to him, storming up the corridor.

Stephen jerked his head up in surprise.
‘You’ll have to be more specific,’ he snapped, winding his ivory silk dress scarf around his neck. In the low light of the hallway it looked like an anaconda’s kiss of death. ‘There are a more than a few people in there that I’d happily chuck under a double-decker then drive over, repeatedly.’

‘You know who I mean
,’ trembled Polly, blocking out a flashback of Bucharest. Thank god her phone was upstairs. He couldn’t do quite so much damage with a coathanger.  ‘I want to know. What did he ever do to you that was so awful? Steal your Lego? Break your Millennium Falcon? Why
do
you treat your brother so badly?’

‘Just leave it Polly
,’ hissed Danny. ‘C’mon Stephen, let’s get out of here.’ 

‘No
,’ said Stephen sharply. ‘Go and wait in the car.’

‘But…’

‘Did you hear what I said? Wait in the car with Toad and Garrett,’ he snapped. ‘And tell the driver to keep the engine running in case that mad Italian bastard turns up again.’

Reluctantly, Danny turned to leave, shooting Polly a beseeching look. She returned it
, just as quick, with an equal ‘fuck off’ intensity.  She wasn’t leaving without an answer.

‘I used to be so in awe of you
,’ she said, shaking her head incredulously. ‘But you’re no better than one of your over-hyped, overpaid actors; much smaller in real life and extraordinarily obnoxious. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man in Soho!’

Stephen smirked. ‘I seem to recall the last one saying that, right before I ripped off her white dress and fuck
ed her in the honeymoon suite.’

‘That would never happen with me. You repulse me
.’

‘Good
,’ said Stephen, taking a step towards her. ‘In my experience, lustful hateful sex is always the most enjoyable.’

‘Are you even listening to me?’ stuttered Polly, feeling a pang of uneasiness.

‘Not really,’ he murmured, inching closer. ‘I’m far too distracted by the dimples in your cheek. I’ve never noticed them before. They’re rather appealing. It’s almost making me feel sorry for beating you up in Romania. Perhaps I can overlook your crap coffee-making skills after all.’

‘But you said you liked
them,’ countered Polly, weakly.

Stephen smirked again. ‘Silly me. I was most likely blind-sighted by the novelty of having something new to play with.’

Polly took a step back. Stephen was the sort of man who took what he wanted when he wanted. A quick glance to her left confirmed that the cloakroom attendant had all but disappeared. He must be the only man in Soho in hot pink trousers who had willingly retreated back into his closet.

Meanwhile,
Stephen was growing bored with the
all talk, no action
direction that their conversation was taking. He glanced at his watch. If he made it back to the after-show party now, he could kiss and make up with Maisie and have her sucking his cock by sunrise. He’d put Polly on ice for another time. Perhaps as a congratulatory gift to himself after his inevitable Oscar coup? Giving her one last appreciative look, he turned to leave.  

‘Sy Jacob was spot on, wasn’t he?’ said Polly suddenly. ‘That was the real reason you stormed off his chat show. He didn’t just hit the nail on the head
, he mangled the wall plug!’

Stephen froze. Through the open doorway he could see Danny dawdling by the black SUV, chain-smoking like a covert KGB operative.

‘You’re insanely jealous of Joe,’ she crowed, pouncing on his hesitancy. ‘That’s why you put him down all the time, take and take without a single speck of gratitude, humiliate him by sleeping with his wife.’

‘Nonsense
,’ he snarled. ‘The truth is, Miss Winters, he’s as inconsequential to me as you are. To be perfectly honest, I can’t see the point of either of you.’

‘But he’s your brother!’ gasped Polly, ‘and a great one at that! He’s kind and selfless
, and he manages to coax the best out of crew instead of threatening them daily with a rolled up P45.’

‘How very restrained
,’ mocked Stephen. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I have a prior engagement with a BAFTA winning actress, a bottle of champagne and my hot tub.’ He turned on his Versace heel then and left her standing in the corridor. She caught Danny’s eye as he turned to open the door for him

‘Danny, wait!’ she cried
, but he ignored her. Seconds later, the limo had sped off down the street, swerving sharply to avoid an oncoming offensive of Soho rickshaws. 

‘
He’ll come around soon,’ soothed a voice suddenly, as Rachel appeared beside her. ‘Either that or Stephen will fire him for screwing up the next schedule. I hear it’s a complete bitch. There are six separate international filming locations, for starters.’

‘This is all my fault
,’ moaned Polly. ‘If I hadn’t been such an insensitive cow to him in Morocco…’

‘Bollocks. This is about Joe blaming him for not protecting you when Stephen smashed you up
in Romania. They had a right old boys-own rare-up about it and haven’t spoken since. Why did you follow Stephen out here anyway?’

‘
To find out why he hated Joe so much.’

‘Why? Did you think you could point out the error of his ways
? Maybe coax a few sibling relationship therapy sessions out of him? I think that ship sailed a long time ago, hit every iceberg going, then sunk without trace.’

‘I know, I know.
I got brave on four glasses of champagne. I wish Joe would pick up the phone and sort things out with Danny though,’ she said, wistfully. ‘Working for Stephen is like turning up to a leaky radiation plant every morning. The more time you spend in his company, the faster your self-respect shrivels up and dies.’ 

‘
Unfortunately, Joe tends to deal with emotive stuff with the same laborious deliberation as a tortoise would a 100m sprint.’

Polly
smiled. She knew all about that.

‘
Besides,’ went on Rachel, ‘I have a hunch that Danny secretly gets a kick out it; especially now he and Joe are frenemies. Then there’s the money aspect, which has always been a clincher for him. Stephen pays double rates, and the overtime’s almost offensive. Now, come on,’ she said, grabbing Polly’s arm and marching her back up the stairs. ‘Michael wants to finish his toast before Benito whisks Christine away for a naughty nightcap in
The Sanderson
. Which reminds me,’ she added slyly. ‘What’s all this I hear about a certain pixie-eared friend of yours getting frolicsome with a certain, mega-powerful Hollywood Player?’