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Authors: Jackie Collins

BOOK: Sinners
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The night before he left, Sunday took him to Dindi and Charlie’s party. She was looking forward to seeing Dindi again, and hearing about the wedding. She was also excited about meeting Charlie Brick. She was a fan, and considered him to be a brilliant comedy actor. It was a shame she hadn’t been available to do the part in
Roundabout
, but Carey had said it was a small part anyway, and
Cash
was more important.

*    *    *

Dindi was playing Hollywood Hostess to the hilt. Her blonde hair was joined by a long fall of ringlets cascading down her back, and she wore a full-length green chiffon dress that laced Roman-style down the front to her waist. Around her person she wore every bit of jewellery that Charlie had bought her.

‘Darling!’ she greeted Sunday, her voice high and strained. ‘How wonderful to see you.’ She flashed her diamond ring and leant forward to exchange kisses, whispering in her normal voice, ‘Thank Christ you’re here. This is the draggiest crowd ever!’

‘What a marvellous house,’ Sunday said. She looked around the huge living room, the walls covered with interesting paintings. There were about twelve people standing about drinking and talking. ‘You remember Branch Strong, don’t you?’

‘Of course.’ Dindi smiled brightly at him. ‘I read where your test was fantastic’

He looked embarrassed.

‘Come and have a drink. Sunday, you look great. When do you start the movie with Steve Magnum? I’m green with envy. I understand he’s one of
the
great Hollywood lays.’

Dindi hasn’t changed, Sunday thought, looking around for Charlie. She was intrigued to see what kind of man he was. Branch was dragged off by Emerald Hamilton, who trapped him in a corner.

Marshall arrived accompanied by Carey, and Sunday spent all her time chatting to them. She was surprised to see Carey, who hadn’t mentioned coming to the party.

‘It was a last-minute thing,’ Carey told her. ‘Marsh called and said he had some important things to discuss with me, so I blew out my date and came here. Business before pleasure, you know. Anyway I wanted to catch this scene.’

Sunday thought how chic and attractive she looked, her dark skin setting off the white lace dress she was wearing perfectly.

Charlie came over then. Thinner than Sunday expected. A long sad face with heavy horn-rimmed glasses. Black hair. He smiled at Sunday, a slightly crooked smile, almost boyish. His voice was very warm. She liked him at once, and wondered why his eyes behind the glasses were sad.

‘Dindi’s spoken a lot about you,’ he said, struck at once by her strange browny-yellow eyes and wide sensual mouth. She was far more beautiful than she had seemed in that short piece of film.

‘Has she?’ Sunday smiled.

Marshall said, ‘Charlie, you never met Carey, did you? My ex-right hand. Took a powder to make it on her own.’

‘Very wise too.’ Charlie appraised her. ‘Anyone who sets up on their own has the right idea. Especially if it means escaping from old Marsh. He must be a bastard to work for.’

Carey grinned. ‘He is.’

Charlie found his eyes wandering back to Sunday’s and she met his stare. He wondered if the gossip about her and Steve Magnum were true. Probably – most actresses were the same; just mention a part in a movie and they would sell their mother.

Sunday thought: he’s not a happy man.

‘I love your house,’ she said, to break the stare.

‘Do you? Thank you. It’s only rented, but I’m quite pleased with it.’

Dindi appeared then and pushed her arm through his. ‘Baby, the head waiter’s getting all uptight about serving dinner. You want to tell him it’s OK?’

‘All right, love.’ He gave her an absent-minded kiss and went off to organize things.

Dindi winked at Marshall. ‘It’s something, huh? Little old me finally made it. Hey, girls, would you mind if I grabbed Marshall for a private tête-a-tête?’

‘Be my guest,’ Carey said, picking up her martini and sipping it slowly.

Dindi took Marshall off.

‘Well?’ Carey said. ‘What do you think?’

‘About what?’ Sunday replied.

‘This whole scene. Do you still think it’s love at first sight?’

‘I don’t know, how can anybody know? Dindi seems happy enough.’

‘And Charlie?’

‘I don’t know Charlie.’

‘No, but he’d like to know you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You
know
what I mean. The two of you had your own private electricity line buzzing between you.’

‘Sometimes I think you’re nuts.’ But Sunday knew exactly what she meant.

‘Hi, Carey.’ Cy came strolling over. ‘How about introducing me to your client?’

‘Sure. Sunday, this is Cy Hamilton, my favourite producer.’

‘Hello.’

‘Hello, there.’ Cy took her hand in a clammy grip and didn’t release it. His eyes probed beneath her silk jersey top, and lingered on her naked bosom.

She pulled her hand free.

‘I’m disappointed you’re not available to do
Roundabout
for me,’ he said, ‘but I’m sure we’ll fix something together soon.’ He glanced at Carey. ‘I think Sunday and I should have a meeting to discuss future projects. Maybe lunch on Monday?’

Sunday said, ‘Carey arranges everything for me, I just follow her advice. She’s the one you should have lunch with. Carey, Branch is trapped in a corner by some woman. Who is she?’

‘Cy’s wife.’

‘Oh!’

Cy laughed. ‘Jealous?’

‘Of course not. I just wondered who she was.’

‘And for your information your muscle-bound boyfriend is the one that has my wife trapped. You know something, you’re a snotty broad.’

With that he walked off.

‘Honestly!’ Sunday exclaimed.

‘Take no notice,’ Carey replied, ‘he’s just annoyed cos you turned down his lunch invitation. It’s not often he gets a no. He’s banged practically every actress that ever set foot on a movie of his. His wife’s a boozer and screws everything in sight. They’re a beautiful couple.’

 
Chapter Twenty

Natalie and Clay were suitably impressed with Charlie’s house. They were also renting, but on a more modest scale. They arrived an hour before the party was due to start, and Charlie sat with them in the study and heard all the London gossip.

He hadn’t seen Natalie since that day in his hotel, and it was to her credit that her attitude towards him was exactly the same as before. He felt relieved, and hoped that now he was married again she would just forget all about it.

‘Where’s your wife?’ she asked. ‘I can’t wait to meet her. Did Clay tell you he knows her?’

‘Knows her?’ Charlie was incredulous.

‘Only vaguely,’ Clay said quickly, shooting Natalie a glance that said, Why don’t you keep your big mouth shut? ‘I met her in Rome a year or so ago. I’m sure she won’t remember me.’

Clay was banking on the fact that Dindi would definitely prefer not to remember him. They had met at a party, and he and some Italian producer had both screwed her one after the other, while she had shrieked with laughter and said, ‘I hope this gets me the part!’

Of course Clay hadn’t told Natalie the whole story, in fact he wished he hadn’t mentioned it at all. But he had been so surprised when he had picked up his morning paper and found a large picture of Dindi and Charlie on the front page, that he had exclaimed, ‘My God! Where did he ever dig up
that one
?’

‘Yes, Dindi spent some time in Rome with her parents,’ Charlie said. ‘She’s finishing dressing, she’ll be down in a minute.’

‘I hope you didn’t mind my inviting Max Thorpe,’ Clay said quickly to change the subject. ‘His television show is a big hit here.’

‘Not at all,’ Charlie replied. Actually he couldn’t stand Max Thorpe, a half-assed clairvoyant palm-reader who had got lucky by foretelling a couple of world events that any fool knew were bound to happen, and had ended up with his own show from Hollywood called
I Predict.
Charlie knew him from his struggling days when they had both been performing in Soho. One drunken evening he had read Charlie’s palm at a party and had said a lot of things Charlie didn’t like.

‘You know it must be three years since I’ve seen Max,’ Clay remarked. ‘He told me then I’d be doing a lot of travelling.’

‘Have you seen Lorna?’ Charlie tried to sound casual, although even now it was difficult to say her name without feeling she was still his wife.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact we bumped into her at a little restaurant in Hampstead,’ Natalie said. ‘She’s absolutely huge, although she claims she’s only six months. Frankly she looks like she’s going to pop at any minute. I think they’re getting married this week.’

‘That’s nice.’ He tried to keep his voice emotionless. ‘Did she mention me?’

Natalie and Clay both spoke at once, Natalie said yes, and Clay no.

Charlie laughed nervously. ‘It’s all right, I’m immune to any of her comments now.’ He poured himself another Scotch, with a shaky hand.

‘She said she was glad you had married again so soon.’ Natalie smiled slightly, savouring the next remark. ‘She said it would serve you right marrying a girl so much younger than yourself.’

‘Why the hell did she say that?’

‘Oh, you know Lorna. Always full of cryptic remarks.’

Dindi walked in, kissed Charlie, and smiled brightly at the Allens. The smile froze on her face when she recognized Clay. Dindi had screwed, two hundred and twenty-three men, and remembered the faces – though not the names – of all of them.

Clay bridged the gap quickly, but not before Natalie had noticed the girl’s look of shock.

‘We met in Rome,’ Clay said, ‘remember? At Claudio Finca’s party. I was teasing you because you were with your mother.’

‘Oh, yes.’ Dindi’s smile unfroze. This was one smart guy. ‘Mummy’s back in Philadelphia now.’

Charlie said, ‘This is Natalie, darling. Clay and Natalie are two of my oldest friends.’

‘Now, now,’ Natalie chided gently, ‘be careful when you say oldest, I’m very sensitive. How are you, Dindi? I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.’

The two women took stock of each other.

Natalie saw a pretty blonde girl with too much hair and too much bosom on show. She noted that the blue eyes were sharp and bright, and she didn’t underestimate her.

Dindi saw an attractive thin dark woman in her late twenties, very sure of herself, and very possessive of Charlie. It was possible that she might have screwed him.

‘Charlie’s talked lots about you,’ Dindi said, ‘I feel I know all about you.’

‘Oh, good,’ Natalie smiled thinly. The girl thought she and Charlie had had an affair.

‘You look lovely,’ Charlie said, patting Dindi on the bottom. ‘Isn’t she a little darling?’

‘Adorable,’ Natalie said.

‘Yes,’ Clay agreed, remembering what a little darling she had been with her pants down. It occurred to him that maybe he should have been truthful with Charlie. After all, they had been close friends for many years. But he had married the girl, so what was the point?

Later in the evening Marshall K. Marshall felt the same way. He had fixed Charlie up with Dindi in the first place. How was he supposed to know that the idiot was going to blow his mind and marry the girl? Now that he
was
married to her, it certainly wouldn’t be the time to tell him that she was a semi-hooker, accepting film parts instead of money – although Marshall could remember the one occasion when he paid her five hundred dollars to spend a weekend in Palm Springs with a German midget who was up for a Best Supporting Actor award. Anyway, it certainly shouldn’t take long for Charlie to see the truth.

Dindi approached him during the evening and told him she wanted the other girl’s part in
Roundabout
.

‘You can convince Charlie,’ she said. ‘It will be great publicity for the movie, and I know I’ll be good in it: all I need is a decent chance.’

‘Ask Charlie yourself,’ Marshall replied. ‘You got him to marry you, you shouldn’t have any problem getting in the film.’

‘Oh, Marsh it’s got to come from you. I don’t want him thinking I married him to get in his movie. Please, just give me a chance. Now I’m Mrs Brick I’m a changed girl, I really would be just right for the part.’

In spite of everything he liked Dindi, and it would be a natural publicity break to put her in the film, and she
was
right for the part. It was a simple role that would just require her to look pretty and sexy, and that she could certainly do.

‘I’ll talk to Charlie.’

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘You’re a doll. You won’t be sorry. I’ll become a big star and you’ll make a fortune off of me. And Marsh, anytime I can return the favour,’ she winked, ‘just give me the word.’

*    *    *

Max Thorpe was a plumpish man of Charlie’s age. He had a bright red suntan, and had recently bleached his mousy brown hair with vivid yellow streaks. He wore a black and white striped cotton suit with matching shirt and tie.

‘All he needs is a straw hat with “Kiss me quick” on it, and he would fit straight into a Brighton day trip,’ Charlie remarked to Natalie.

However, Max Thorpe was the hit of the party. Nobody could resist knowing what good things the future had in store for them, and it was Max’s policy only to predict good things. He was soon surrounded by anxious outstretched palms, but the hand that really interested him was that of Branch Strong.

Max, like Charlie, had come a long way from the Soho joints where he had first appeared. And along the way his tastes had changed from flat-chested long-legged girls to muscle-bound beautiful young men. Branch was a perfect specimen.

Max felt his heart pounding as it hadn’t done since he had met a fake Indian at Disneyland. He recognized a kindred spirit in Branch immediately, and holding his hand tightly, he foresaw great fortune and success, and that someone with the initial ‘M’ would become most prominent in his life. He advised the young man to follow his natural inclinations, and asked whether he would like to appear on an
I Predict
television show?

Branch listened intently, a wide grin on his perfect features. Fame, fortune and success were just what he wanted, and then perhaps he could get rid of all the perverts who swarmed around him. ‘M’ must stand for Mother. He had been too ashamed to go home and see her for two years. Follow your natural inclinations must mean tell all the queer boys to stay away from him. As soon as he achieved the fame, fortune and success, he could do just that, including getting rid of his agent, whose demands were the most demeaning of all. Then perhaps he could have a real relationship with Sunday. He didn’t feel it would be proper to touch her until all his past associations were finished.

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