Lovers and Gamblers (35 page)

‘Come here,’ she said, holding out her arms.

As if he needed an invitation. But it was a mistake. He knew it was a mistake.

Ten seconds later his fears were realized. Instant come. He didn’t even get it inside.

She laughed it off. ‘Such enthusiasm!’

But he felt destroyed, like a young boy. And he couldn’t get it up again, in spite of her kindly administrations.

‘I’m sorry…’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘It’s never done that before.’

‘It’s a naughty boy.’

Shit! She had it in one.

He closed his eyes and wished for death or something along those lines. With Evelyn he could go all night. With Irene he was Mr. Playboy personified.

‘Why don’t you sleep here?’ Dallas suggested.

‘I think I’ll go home. Expecting a call.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

She didn’t even argue, and who could blame her? If she got rid of him early enough she could call up Superspade and really get it on. But he knew he was being unfair, it was she that had suggested he stay.

Miserably he dressed.

She didn’t seem too put out. Any other girl would have been screaming for equal orgasm by this time.

She stayed in bed, modestly covering herself with a sheet, and when he was dressed she said, ‘What about the hamburgers?’ And he brought the carton into the bedroom, and she munched a cold hamburger with great relish whilst he watched.

‘See you tomorrow, then,’ she told him cheerfully when he was ready to leave. She didn’t seem upset by his performance – or rather lack of it.

He kissed her chastely on the cheek and made his escape.

Dallas watched him go, sorry that he had not wanted to stay the night. She had been right about Cody. He was a genuinely nice guy, and she was touched by his obvious lack of experience in sex. He wasn’t a groper, a jumper, a lecher, pulling at her body in a lustful frenzy the way most men did. He was a little bit shy, a little bit reticent. She sat up and hugged her knees. He was the kind of man she could live with.

OK, so he didn’t make any bells ring. But she hadn’t expected he would. Sex had never been a turn-on, just a way to make some money. Linda was wrong about it all being so wonderful.

Yes, Cody was the guy for her, of that she was sure.

But in the back of her mind was a feeling of disappointment. No sexual waves. No incredible flooding of the body and emotions. No hot and cold thrills. For a second her thoughts lingered fleetingly on Al King, then sternly she shut him out. Cody Hills was the man for her. Cody Hills was the man she wanted to marry.

Evan didn’t know how it happened – well, not exactly. One moment he had been enjoying a more than friendly conversation with Nellie, and ten minutes later, when she had come back from a visit to Al, she seemed distant and upset. She didn’t even sit down next to him, she went and huddled alone in a seat at the front.

He didn’t have the courage to follow her. What if she snubbed him?

Probably his bloody father had hurt her feelings. He was good at doing that. As long as
he
was all right he didn’t care what he said. It amazed Evan why people were still so anxious to jump at his every command. He treated them all like dirt.

When the plane landed, Evan hung back as usual. There was always such a fuss at every airport. Photographers, crowds, two-faced smiling officials. Evan hated it all.

He was concentrating on staying out of the way when the fat girl spoke.

‘Hi,’ she said, bringing her face and bad breath very close to him. ‘Whachasay we all ride inta town together.’ She wasn’t asking him, she was telling him.

‘I don’t think…’he began.

‘You got a ride, dontcha? Glory an’ I don’t take up no room. Like we got no bread left. Like not even bus fare.’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Glory blankly, hitching up a laddered red stocking.

‘OK,’ muttered Evan. He knew who they were. They followed Al everywhere.

He got in the last of the fleet of black Cadillacs sent to meet Al and his entourage. The girls squeezed in with him. A couple of the musicians were already in the car.

‘Get lucky, Evan?’ one of them laughed, nudging his colleague.

‘Aw, shut y’face,’ snapped Plum. ‘After what we done f’you guys on this tour y’d think one of you would see we got a ride.’

‘Anyone riding you needs insurance!’ laughed the musician.

‘Don’t come to me next time you want it,’ spat Plum. ‘Y’all stink anyway.’ She turned to Evan. ‘Friggin’ animals. Don’t ’preciate nothin’.’

‘Nothin’,’ echoed Glory, scratching at her frizzy mop of hair.

The car drove straight to the hotel. The two girls followed Evan into the lobby and waited while he collected his key.

He pretended not to see them as he headed for the elevator. But they fell into step, one on each side of him.

‘Y’don’t mind if we use y’room for a few minutes,’ stated Plum. ‘Gotta wash, pee. You’re real nice. Know that?’

No. He didn’t know that. But it was nice to hear. In fact he had never been told that before. He warmed slightly towards the big fat girl.

They crowded into his room. ‘Jeeze, I’m hungry!’ exclaimed Plum. ‘D’you think we could have room service? Jeeze – what I could do with a coupla cokes and a burger.’

Why not? He didn’t have to pay for it. ‘Order what you like,’ he said magnanimously. After all if they thought he was nice he didn’t want to spoil their opinion of him.

After scanning the room service menu and choosing a mammoth meal, the two girls vanished into the bathroom. They stayed locked away until a knock at the door announced the arrival of the food. Then they emerged, wearing different outfits, although how they managed it Evan didn’t know, for they possessed one scruffy-looking carry-all between the two of them.

Glory seemed to have perked up considerably. ‘Nice room!’ she exclaimed as if seeing it for the first time.

‘Big! Too big for one guy all on his own. Food! You sure are one wonderful person. Cute too.’ She winked at him. ‘Wish we had some booze. Got any booze?’

Evan shook his head.

‘Booze makes me do veree dirty things!’ Glory added, rolling her slightly protruding eyes. ‘How ’bout you?’

‘Don’t drink,’ muttered Evan.

‘Never?’

‘Champagne.’

Glory fell about laughing. ‘Shit, man! Champagne. ’Scuse me for bein’ in the same room!’

‘Leave him alone,’ interrupted Plum quickly.

‘I ain’t hassling him. Honest I’m not. He’s the man. Like look at this food – got me droolin’.’ Glory picked up some french fries with her fingers and stuffed them in her mouth. ‘Yum! Good stuff.’ She narrowed her eyes at Evan. ‘Ain’t you all eatin’?’

‘I might have to eat later with my father.’

‘Oooh! With my father!’ Glory mimicked his accent, whilst Plum mouthed ‘shut up’ at her. ‘French fries no good for your spots anyway,’ yawned Glory.

Evan reddened.

‘Don’t go gettin’ uptight ’bout your spots. I got spots too. All over my bum. Wanna see?’ She started to unzip her jeans.

‘Not
,’
objected Plum, ‘I’m eating.’

‘Tell you what,’ laughed Glory, ‘you can squeeze my spots if I can squeeze yours! A deal?’ She stuck out a skinny hand with nails bitten down to the quick. Evan took it. They shook solemnly. ‘You’re a real nice person,’ Glory smiled, ‘I think we’re all gonna get along just fine.’

* * *

‘How do you like our city?’ the girl interviewer asked.

‘The best!’ replied Al firmly. He knew what they would all ask, and he gave them all the same answers. ‘Saw a great show when I was a kid –
Oklahoma
. Howard Keel singing his whatsits off.’

‘Howard Keel?’ she questioned, smiling politely.

‘Yeah – Howard Keel – you remember…’ He trailed off. How could she remember? She was only about twenty-something. The young, smart ones. They always sent the college ladies to interview him. Why didn’t he ever get an old bag? Someone who knew what the fuck he was talking about.

I will be thirty-eight in two days’ time, he thought. Two years after that I will be forty. And I don’t want to be poncing around the world dodging randy females when I’m forty. I don’t want to be married to Edna either.

‘I beg your pardon?’ said the interviewer.

‘I beg your pardon what?’

‘I – I thought you said something.’

‘Just your ears playing tricks on you.’ He took a swig of champagne and surveyed the girl. She was pretty in a
Cosmopolitan
way. He leaned forward, fixing her with his deep black eyes.

She moved uncomfortably on her chair. ‘I wanted to ask you,’ she began.

‘Let’s forget about the boring questions,’ he said. ‘Let’s just get it all off and fuck.’

‘Oh!’ She blushed.

‘Come on,’ insisted Al, ‘this is your chance for an exclusive. Isn’t that what all little girl reporters want?’

She opened her mouth to reply. Didn’t know what to say.

‘Clothes off,’ suggested Al. He leaned back and waited. Wouldn’t it be nice if she said no. But no such luck. She was soon unzipping, unbuttoning, and unhooking.

He yawned. What could you expect from a girl who had never even heard of Howard Keel?

* * *

Bernie Suntan conferred with the security heads at the Fairgrounds Arena. Everything seemed tight.

Goddamn weather. The goddamn heat never seemed to let up. He had to carry a supply of T-shirts because he sweated his way through six of them a day.

Goddamn tour. He wished they were in LA already. His town. A civilized place where you could walk by the pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel and see
other human beings
.

He was sick of being nice to morons and bums and nothings. Little people with small minds and little jobs on hick newspapers. Douche bags all of them.

He swigged from a can of beer. He was still smarting with embarrassment at the scene on the plane. Those two pigs that should never have been allowed out without a leash. Jeezus! That they should tell Paul about what they had done to him. Jeezus! Ugly would be an overestimation of their condition!

Had he not been stoned and extremely horny he would not have put his tool in their direction in a million years. But Jeeze – he had been working his balls off, and where was the thanks? Major coverage in every city. Magazine pieces that you would sell your mother for. Every television show. What the fuck – he was doing a GREAT JOB!

Of course if he had had the time he could have found himself a sweet piece. But who had time? And those two gorillas had been available and grinding their teeth for a thrust of what he had to offer.

Fat he may be. But he could cream chicks with the best of them.

He finished his beer, crumpled the can. What the fuck.

They were out of his life now. He had told them in no uncertain terms to quit hanging around him.

Roll on LA.

* * *

After half an hour Al was bored. He sent Miss Girl Reporter packing and lay morosely on his bed studying the ceiling. Hotel rooms. He hated them.

Paul called to say they would be leaving for the Arena in an hour.

Al hauled himself into the shower, soaped his body, rinsed away the previous half hour.

He shaved. Studied his face. Plucked out a few eyebrow hairs that were daring to cross the bridge of his nose. He brushed his teeth, played with some dental floss.

He didn’t look like a person who was nearly thirty-eight. Squinting at himself in the mirror he decided he looked no more than twenty-nine – well, thirty at the most.

Satisfied with his appearance, he decided to phone Evan. He felt a bit guilty about the fact that he hardly saw him any more. But it was a relief – having Evan in his pocket had started to drive him crazy.

Evan answered the phone in his room with a surly, mumbled ‘Yes?’

‘Coming to the show tonight?’ Al asked cheerfully.

‘Yes,’ answered Evan.

‘Good. Why don’t you come to the suite and we’ll drive over together.’

There was a short, muffled silence, then Evan said, ‘Think I’ll see you there. Can I have some extra tickets? I’ve got some friends I want to bring.’

He had friends! At last! ‘Sure, sure. How many do you want? I’ll have Bernie arrange it.’

‘’Bout six.’

Six friends! When he worked, he worked quickly! ‘They’ll be at the box office. You and your friends want to come to the party after?’

‘I dunno. We might.’

‘Try to make it. You need any money?’

‘Yes.’

‘Come over and I’ll give you a fifty.’

‘Can’t. I’ve got someone here.’

‘A girl?’ Al was delighted.

‘Yes,’ muttered Evan. ‘So can you leave the money at the desk for me?’

‘It will be my pleasure, son.’ Al hung up the phone well pleased. So Evan had finally got himself connected. What a relief! Not that he had been worried. He knew the kid was normal –after all he was Al King’s son, wasn’t he?

* * *

‘I got you the tickets,’ Evan said.

‘Clever!’ sighed Glory.

‘Why did you want six?’

‘To sell, of course. Gotta make bread every way y’can. Know what I mean?’

Evan nodded. Why hadn’t
he
thought of that.

Plum was smearing lipstick on. ‘We’d better get moving. We’ve got – let me see – yeah, we got twelve tickets to sell now. Reckon we’ll make at least two hundred.’

Glory whistled. ‘Like – rich, man.’

Plum nodded. ‘It’ll keep us goin’.’

‘My father is leaving me fifty dollars at the desk,’ Evan announced proudly.

‘So we’re all rich!’ laughed Glory, latching her thin arm through Evan’s equally thin arm. ‘We can buy us some real good poppers and come back here and like – y’know – have a real
mean
time. Wanna do that, Evvaan?’

‘Yes,’ he said quickly, ‘let’s do that.’

Plum threw her arm around him. ‘You’re one of us now, man,’ she said kindly.

He positively glowed. He was one of them.

* * *

Bernie spotted them first, Al’s kid and the two barracudas.

He complained to Paul, who didn’t believe him. ‘Evan, with those two? You must be mistaken.’

‘You want me to tell them to leave the kid alone?’ Bernie blustered: ‘Mistaken I ain’t. The three of ’em bouncing around out front as tight as thieves.’