Heller's Girlfriend (29 page)

She eyed her breakfast, sitting
down to nibble on half-a-slice of dry toast and a tiny piece of
rockmelon, pouring a cup of unsweetened black coffee.

“Do you ever eat?” I queried,
curious.

“I don’t want to get fat,” she
replied, regarding me disdainfully. I immediately bristled. Was she
implying I could lose a few kilos? Fortunately for her Wanda
arrived then, dressed in a hideous overly-long brown shift dress
that swallowed her body and washed out her face.

“We have to get moving in a few
hours,” she advised Yoni, who glared back at her with acrimony.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me
about this morning? You know I hate visiting sick kids.”

“It must have slipped my mind,”
she replied innocently.

“Lucky for you this person told
me about it,” Yoni said, nodding her head in my direction.
“Otherwise I wouldn’t be ready.” She abandoned her half-eaten
breakfast and strode off haughtily into the second bedroom,
presumably to choose an outfit for the day.

As I cleaned up the breakfast
dishes, my phone rang.

“How’s it going?” Heller
asked.

“I hate her. She’s an absolute
bitch,” I stated bluntly.

He sighed. I was getting sick of
his sighs. “Matilda. Why can’t you get along with other women?
There’s no need to be jealous of Ms Lemere and me.”

Furious, I hung up on him,
ignoring the phone when he rang back.

“Problem?” asked Wanda
sympathetically.

“Only that my boss is a complete
jerk.”

“I know that feeling! Is he the
ridiculously yummy man with you yesterday or the scary one who
looked like a gangster?”

“Mr Handsome.”

“Should I pity you or envy
you?”

“I honestly don’t know. He’s
giving me the major shits. He thinks I’m jealous over him.”

“Are you?”

I shrugged evasively and changed
the subject. We chatted for the next hour waiting for Yoni to get
ready. There was a loud knock on the door and I went to open. It
was my old friend, Rumbles.

“Hey, Mr Rumbles! How’s it
going?”

“Couldn’t be better, Miss
Tilly,” he replied, as pleased to see me as I was to see him. An
old hand at
Heller’s
, he was Clive’s second-in-charge and
one of the nicest men I’d ever met. “Just wanted to let you know
that the men are downstairs waiting for Miss Lemere to depart.” He
checked his watch. “We need to leave soon if she’s not going to be
late.”

“Thanks, Rumbles. We shouldn’t
be too much longer, fingers crossed. See you soon.”

He winked at me and left to go
back downstairs. I detoured to the second bedroom to knock gently
on the door.

“Ms Lemere, it’s time to
leave.”

“Fuck off! I’m not ready. Stop
bothering me,” came the muffled reply.

“There’s nothing you can do
about her, Tilly,” counselled Wanda. “She’ll keep everyone waiting,
as usual. She’s such an inconsiderate bitch.”

“How can she take so long to get
ready?” I exclaimed in frustration.

Wanda laughed. “This is nothing.
I once waited for five hours for her to get ready for an Oscars
ceremony. She almost missed her own nomination as best actress in
some crappy rom com movie that everyone hated. She played a dance
teacher in a poor downtown school who inspires her students to
enter a dance recital, despite them having no gear or skills,
winning the heart of the stern but hot principal along the way. And
surprise, surprise, her students win the recital.
So
original. Not!”

“I saw that movie. It
stank.”

“Almost as bad as her breath
after one of her benders. It had the most hackneyed, recycled
script ever seen in Hollywood
and
she danced like a drunk
hippo in it.”

“Yeah, I remember! That solo
dance scene of hers was the only time I laughed in the whole
movie.”

Wanda grinned. “She didn’t win
the Oscar, of course. Lost to some fresh, young talented woman from
Britain who gave a wonderfully moving performance as a blind
amateur pianist who’s asked to play before the Queen. I loved
that
movie.”

“Oh, me too! She was brilliant
in it. It was so inspiring. I cried my eyes out at the end.”

“I cried at the end of the
hippo’s movie too – from sheer relief.” I giggled. “She has made
one good movie though.”

I wracked my brains, but nothing
sprang to mind.

“Her first movie. She was young
when she made it and played a woman who’d been given up for
adoption as a baby searching for her natural mother. She finally
finds her only to learn that she’d died the week before. Her
performance was extraordinary.”

I shook my head. “I’ve never
seen that one.”

“No one has, more’s the shame.
But it impressed some big wigs and she ended up with some
influential patrons. Not without . . . you know.”

No, I didn’t know. I stared at
her blankly.

“Tilly, it’s Hollywood. Ever
heard of the casting couch?”

“Yes!”
Geez!
I’d been
propositioned more than once myself in my brief career as an actor.
“Do you mean that Yoni . . .?”

“Of
course
she did! She
spent more time on her knees and her back in her first few years
than on the set.” I listened avidly, hardly daring to breathe,
afraid of interrupting this fascinating gossip. “That hardens a
person up very quickly, but her hard work paid off. She scored the
lead in a sweet little rom com movie that became a monster hit and
she became famous. But now she keeps churning that same kind of
crappy movie out, year after year. People are bored of them. I keep
telling her that she should expand herself as an actor. Take on a
small indie project – something mature and edgy. Something that
changes everyone’s opinion of her.” She shrugged. “But you can
imagine how seriously she takes my advice! Money and fame are very
addictive.”

“It would be interesting to see
her in something different.”

“Fat chance of that.” She looked
towards the closed bedroom door. “Speaking of fat, I know what
she’s doing in there. She’s standing in front of the mirror
fretting that she’s too fat to be seen in public. I mean,
as
if!
”

“You know, I used to be a huge
fan of hers.”

“Used to be?”

“Yeah, until I met her.”

Wanda snorted with laughter that
she had to stifle swiftly when Yoni walked into the lounge
room.

“What’s so funny?” she
demanded.

“Nothing. I was just coughing.
All better now though.” They stared at each other antagonistically.
I couldn’t understand why they continued to work together when they
had no rapport at all and clearly couldn’t stand each other.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting,
you hideous toad,” she griped, striding to the door, not noticing
Wanda flip her a double bird as she did.

Yoni looked spectacular. She’d
donned casual attire for the hospital visit – expensive tight
jeans, a tailored white shirt, opened low enough at the neck to
show the promise of cleavage but not low enough to be slutty, and a
black jacket. A classic look teamed with some funky chunky silver
jewellery and a pair of killer heels to modernise. Her butt was
amazing in those jeans. I felt frumpy and chubby in my uniform. God
only knew how Wanda was feeling in her revolting tent dress.

Maybe she’d given up caring.

Chapter 21

Yoni, Wanda and I crossed the
foyer and picked up the six
Heller’s
men on the way. Besides
Rumbles, I also knew Tysen, who’d given me my first security
training ever at
Heller’s
, Ben, my Elvis partner, and Mr
Farrell himself. I threw Tysen and Ben friendly smiles, but saved
my warmest welcome for someone who I desperately wished to
annoy.

“Hello Hugh! I didn’t know you’d
be on this assignment, Hugh,” I hailed him with exaggerated
delight, a greeting that was met with a death glare.

“Chalmers,” he grunted minimally
in response.

The other men eyed him with
curiosity. I could swear that I saw faint colour rising in his
cheeks. I smiled to myself. I was going to win this battle even if
it killed me, or him, or the both of us if it came down to
that.

I tucked my arm securely into
Yoni’s, keeping her close to my body, pulling her back tight when
she tried to shake me off. Wanda took her other arm. The men formed
a cordon around us and we exited the foyer, not without
trepidation.

We were right to be careful. It
was pandemonium at the entrance to the hotel. I didn’t know how any
person could suffer such an experience on a regular basis and
remain sane. People pressed all around us, yelling question at her,
screaming at her, trying to touch her and paw at her. Cameras
flashed in every direction, blinding us. I wanted to lower my eyes
to the ground to avoid them, but I could miss something important
by doing that. So I forced myself to stay alert, constantly
scanning the environment, my poor eyes enduring a terrible barrage
of bright lights. Blinking uncontrollably, I rushed her as fast as
possible, remembering her high heels. The men struggled to keep the
microphones, TV cameras and mobile phones away from Yoni, while
guiding her swiftly to the stretch limousine that was waiting at
the front.

Yoni, Wanda and I tumbled into
the limo, flinging ourselves back on the seats with relief. The
driver, obviously well-briefed by the men, sped off closely
followed by two
Heller’s
fleet vehicles, leaving the feral
pack behind.

Yoni reached down to the
built-in fridge and extracted a piccolo of champagne. She poured it
into a crystal flute, even though it was not even close to
lunchtime. Wanda and I exchanged glances. Yoni gulped it down and
opened the fridge to grab another.

“Slow down, Yoni. You have sick
kids to visit,” Wanda warned.

“Who the fuck arranged that
anyway? You know I hate sick kids!”

And what could one say to that
awful comment? I sat in disgusted silence while they bickered over
old territory like a couple married for fifty years.

Suddenly the limo lurched to one
side. None of us was wearing seatbelts and we were flung violently
around the back, Yoni’s champagne spilling over my pants.

“Put your seatbelts on!” I
yelled in panic. They both stared at me stupidly. “
Now!
”

I leaned over to fasten Yoni’s
seatbelt around her, seizing the glass from her hand, while Wanda
fastened her own.

I twisted over my shoulder to
look out the rear window. The two
Heller’s
vehicles were
still following us. The limo driver slowed down, allowing one
Heller’s
vehicle to move in front, as one stayed at the
rear. But behind it, a flotilla of motorbikes and cars drove
dangerously, chasing after us. Panic swept through me. I didn’t
want to be in another car accident, having suffered so much the
last time.

You’re in charge, you’re in
charge
, I repeated to myself, hoping to calm my rising dread. I
pulled my seatbelt tightly across me and fastened it, clutching the
armrest in fear. I was afraid I was going to lose it, but when I
noticed the frightened faces of the other two women, I knew I had
no choice but to pull it together and be the strong one in the
trio. After all, that’s what I’d been hired to do.

“It’s okay,” I reassured in a
surprisingly calm voice. “We’re nearly at the hospital.”

And thankfully I was right. We
pulled into the drive that led to the entrance of the huge hospital
complex a few minutes later. Hospital security had wisely arranged
for a police team for Yoni’s visit and the cops efficiently and
authoritatively prevented every vehicle except the limo and the two
Heller’s
4WDs from entering the drive. I stepped out of the
limo first, valiantly holding myself up on trembling limbs, and
held the door open for Yoni and Wanda. The executive staff at the
hospital immediately took control of the situation, ushering Yoni
to the children’s hospital, accompanied by a few handpicked,
sympathetic media bodies that could be guaranteed to produce
positive copy for her.

I watched in amazement as Yoni
turned on the charm, finally becoming the person I recognised from
all the interviews about her I’d read and watched in the past. She
kissed a sick baby she held tenderly in her arms to a salvo of
camera flashes and hugged the diseased six-year-old with a tight
squeeze, making sure her face was photogenic the entire time. She
even spoke lovingly of her own darling, but sometimes naughty, son.
You would have sworn that she was a doting mother, loved children
and had an especially soft spot for the sick ones. I almost wished
I hadn’t heard her contrary views so that I could buy into the
beautiful image again.

“She’s the master of insincere
smarm,” I commented in a low voice, astonished by the
transformation.

“You better believe it,”
confirmed Wanda. “She is
very
good at acting. Just not in
her shitty movies.”

“I never realised. She should
win awards for her performance today.”

We waited patiently through
another few photo opportunities for her while she schmoozed the
dignitaries who were there to present a fundraising cheque to the
hospital. Yoni added a generous personal donation to the money pot
with a cheque of her own, amidst grateful applause, and posed for
yet more photos. When that was done, we hustled her back to the
limo. The
Heller’s
men mobilised again. The paparazzi hadn’t
left while we were busy and swarmed over us again. I ordered the
limo driver to take us back to the hotel quickly.

Yoni began railing at Wanda
almost before the doors had shut. “Why’d you organise for me to
give them so much money?”

“It’s a kids’ hospital. It’s
good publicity for you – it will be on the news.”

“You’re pretty fucking generous
with my money,” she complained ungraciously. “I want to go to a
restaurant for lunch.”