Tease (37 page)

Tiger leaned against the grand iron railings outside Sienna’s flat, shivering in the crisp night air with tears streaming relentlessly down her face as the last thirty minutes replayed in her mind on high speed, over and over and over. She had never for a moment expected Sienna to take the revelations well, but Tiger had truly been played the Joker card when Sienna finally revealed it was her who had sold the stories to the newspapers. That had really knocked Tiger sideways. She supposed she should have been relieved that it hadn’t been Blue’s loose lips that had broken the story. But the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her. She had asked with trepidation if Sienna had been behind all the anonymous letters too. Sienna simply said she now wished
she had been that person, but regrettably, no. Tiger had been shocked. Sienna’s hatred for her was so pervasive, and Tiger just didn’t know who was who or what was what any more.

Tiger had tried to explain as much as she could in as little time as possible, but how could she tell the whole truth when she didn’t want to tell her daughter she was the product of a brutal rape? So most of the secret was finally out, and for what? Tiger had now been disowned by her daughter, much like she had been disowned by her own parents. Sienna had then literally thrown Tiger out on the street. As her own parents had done. Tiger felt a huge hole within; where the lies, secrecy, and the terrible reality had sat and gnawed away at her for the last nineteen years. She had been able to deal with it for as long as she had her daughter nearby. But now Sienna had rejected her that had all changed.

Something had to fill that black hole where the secret had once been, and all Tiger felt now was rage, desperation, grief, and an acid bitterness filling her up and threatening to drown her. Shaking with sobs, she realised that the terrible wailing sound echoing through the street was coming from her. People were staring at her as they passed, straying out into the road to avoid walking too near her, as though she were some crazed, inebriated tramp. Tiger sank to her knees, clutching at the railings, bent double with sobs. She had nothing left without her daughter in her life.

The door to the house suddenly slammed and Tiger looked up hopefully. Through her blurred vision she could make out Sienna’s heels stepping down the marble stairs to the gate. Tiger tried to scramble to her feet but stumbled. Sienna stopped at the railings and towered over Tiger.

‘Get up off the floor you pathetic creature. Do I know you?’

Sienna stalked off as Rex’s distinctive orange Lamborghini screeched up to the pavement a few doors down. Tiger watched Sienna jump in, slamming the door with a heavy muffled thud as she was whisked off in to the night, with Tiger left crying there on the pavement alone, feeling like there was nothing left in her world to lose.

The gloved hand flicks carefully through the pages of the scrapbook in quick succession. The last page is closed, and the book is held for a moment. One hand strokes the cover hesitantly, before it is hurled into the lethargic log fire across the room. Imbued with energy, bright flames leap up to lick at the book, bubbling and mutating the cover. The pages within hiss musically as they burn bright, then curl and turn to ash, before the flames retreat into the embers once more. The silhouette of a figure is faintly sketched out by the moonlight that trickles through the window, a suitcase is fastened loudly with a zipper and hoisted to the front door. The figure leaves the room and is lost into the night. The defaced images of Tiger Starr left pinned to the wall sing their silent song of sadness, obsession, cruelty, passion; while the remains of her likeness smoulder in the embers, reduced to smuts of carbon.

Scores of feathered showgirls paraded in perfect formation, all tits, teeth and long legs, high kicking their way across the screens. Lewis had lost count of how many times the loop had played on the plasma screens mounted in the arrivals lounge. He averted his eyes and instead concentrated on the hypnotic flashing neon patterns beaming out from the slot machines in an attempt to relax. Bored and even more anxious within thirty seconds, he checked his watch impatiently for the hundredth time. Tourists, revellers and a few stag parties were steadily flowing into the airport lounge. The tic in Lewis’ cheek started as he tried not to think about the possibility that Tiger hadn’t got on the plane after all. He hadn’t heard anything for sixteen hours since she called to announce Vladimir was driving her to the airport.

The last two months had been a rollercoaster for Lewis. Tiger had been catatonic for days after she returned home in the early hours of the morning having confronted Sienna. Tiger had then been silent for days. She remained shut in her bedroom mostly, not eating, reading any press or answering any calls. Lewis was juggling the ravenous media and paparrazzi single-handedly, with the skill of a
circus acrobat. Then, something happened to break the stagnant silence. Lewis had come home one evening with a Trois Petits Cochons cake; just another of many little gestures in an attempt to put a smile on her face. As he walked in through the front door, he was confronted with a shocking scene; furniture, mirrors and windows were smashed, walls were scratched and scored and curtains ripped.

Lewis had dropped the cake right there on the vintage parquet floor and had run through the house screaming, praying the intruder hadn’t attacked Tiger. But there had never been an intruder. Lewis found Tiger curled up in a ball in the mess of her own making, shuddering with tears amongst shards of broken mirror in the wrecked bathroom. All up her legs and arms were long scratches and gouges as though an animal had been clawing at her, and blood was all over her hands. That night Lewis had never seen so much anger in one person as he saw in Tiger. Her whole story came pouring out. Everything. Lewis had been shocked to discover Sienna was Tiger’s daughter but that had only been the start. Tiger had wept and shook as she screamed and railed against her past, pausing only to claw at her throat as she struggled for breath with panic. It was like watching a demon forcing its way out of her. Lewis had been floored by what he heard; his mind reeling as so many pieces of her jigsaw puzzle seemed to click into place for him after all these years. Lewis had held her tight throughout that long night. He listened to her, wept
with her, took her punches when another surge of anger came, held her in his arms when she tried to hurt herself, and lay beside her when she collapsed in yet more tears for her lost daughter.

As the sun came up marking a new day and Tiger began to finally expire with exhaustion, Lewis had dutifully cleaned her scratches with antiseptic lotion and dressed them, before putting her to bed – a Valium secreted into her cocoa so she could sleep peacefully. Immediately he called in glaziers to fix the broken windows and interior designers to clear the house and set about redesigning some new themes for each room. He showed them all Tiger’s precious old books so they could see what kind of things she liked. By the time Tiger awoke twenty-four hours later, her house was purged, stripped back to its bare walls ready for redecoration. Everything damaged had been removed. That was what Lewis wanted for Tiger.

From that day forward he took things very slowly. He never mentioned that night, ever. Instead, he encouraged Tiger to eat, and to carry on talking if she needed to. He smuggled her incognito out of the house via the back garden wall and took her for late night strolls and chats and fresh air. He kept everything to a routine and didn’t let her talk about work. Another pink letter arrived for her, which Lewis promptly and quietly handed over to the police. Without hesitation he installed a discreet security team to guard her and her home. Tiger’s cuts healed and she gained a few much needed pounds. Eventually
, after a few weeks, when Lewis thought she was far enough away from that terrible night in her house, he had encouraged her to tell her side of the story to the press. A Sunday tabloid had already discovered that Sienna was Tiger’s baby – the story would run and run if Tiger didn’t stop it. He put it to her that it would be a good opportunity to tell the facts on her terms, and with dignity. Furthermore it would show that she wasn’t running away in shame should she decide to go ahead with her year-long Vegas show. It was a long shot, but Lewis simply had to keep the faith that she would see it his way and get back in the saddle for the show. Right now it was the best thing for her to do, if she wanted to move forward in her life … and if she ever wanted to make the pain she had suffered worth something, instead of letting it destroy her.

Lewis had kept all the arrangements running smoothly in Vegas and had played down the scandal. He certainly didn’t reveal anything of the carnage that had been laid bare behind closed doors. The Vegas producers were happy to be reassured that there had simply been some phoney tabloid story again. They weren’t even bothering to read them any more. Tiger was getting stellar previews in America and that’s all they cared about. Of course, if Tiger jettisoned the show now he would be in shit up to his eyeballs; but all Lewis cared about was keeping her options open for her, so at least she was left with choices about her future. Knowing just how many choices had been taken
away from Tiger in the past, Lewis was determined for that not to happen for her again.

Tiger declared after much thinking that she would not be giving over her story to the press, moreover that she just didn’t feel ready for Vegas. It was a bleak outlook for Lewis; he sweated bullets but kept the faith. Somewhere along the way, his confidence must have started to rub off on Tiger and within a week she had changed her mind. She had realised she wanted to take control of her life again, like she had when she returned to London as Tiger Starr fourteen years ago. Lewis immediately helped Tiger to find a top female broadsheet journalist, and the story was a huge success; sensitive, eloquent and erudite. Tiger hadn’t really wanted Sienna to learn the circumstances of her birth from a newspaper but as Sienna had disowned her, what choice did she have? And as much as she wanted to sugar coat it for her daughter’s sake, Lewis had persuaded her that honesty was the best policy. Without naming names she revealed that she had been raped by a much older man, an adult in a position of authority. That she had wanted to keep her child regardless but that she’d had no choice but to abide by her parents’ decision. Lewis was inundated with requests to use Tiger for radio and chat shows, women’s magazines and lectures. She politely declined. She had said her piece, and she had regained some control; she hadn’t done it for the notoriety. But she still wasn’t ready for Vegas.

One person who still hadn’t surfaced after the latest
revelations was Sienna. Lewis knew deep down this would always hold Tiger back, but was powerless to reason with her. Sienna had fiercely maintained a block on all contact, but Tiger wanted to be on call for her in London in case she ever changed her mind. Tiger worried that if she left the country, she might lose that faint glimmer of hope of her ever getting to see or speak to her again.

Lewis had now been in Vegas for a whole week with Pepper, Blue and the Starrlets, checking all the set ups for Tiger’s proposed three-month schedule of rehearsals with her girls, before the Vegas producers and the director was expecting her to join them out there. Lewis had tracked down Blue and told him everything, begging him to come back on board. Now that Tiger seemed more stable, Lewis had wanted to reintroduce her friends and close circle to her life, and her closest confidante Blue was an essential part of keeping her strong. All the while, Lewis still kept the faith that Tiger was getting back in the saddle. Finally, his prayers were answered when yesterday he had received a call to say she would fulfil her commitment and come to Vegas. Tiger explained how she felt she had let her daughter down throughout her life, and she was determined not to let anyone else down. Lewis had been on the verge of a heart attack until that point, and nearly choked on the phone as Tiger had told him her decision.

Now as he paced up and down the arrivals lounge, his heart was sinking rapidly as he realised she must have lost her bottle. One or two tourists were excitedly weaving their
way past with their luggage – it seemed that they were the last stragglers who had been on that flight. Lewis sighed and turned to leave, wondering what on earth his next move would be on the show. It was doubtful he would ever work again. Not after he had been sued for major breach of contract at any rate. No one would trust him professionally any more. Everything he had put his heart and soul into for all these years would be gone. Not to mention Tiger. If they didn’t work together, what was left? It wasn’t like she saw him as a friend, only a manager. She would have no more reason to see him. Lewis wandered over to a slot machine, shoved in a few coins and tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. Rows of cherries blurred in front of his eyes as he mechanically played his few dollars. After barely a minute, he felt his stomach churning as he tried to push the horror of his situation from his mind.

‘Hey, watch that hatbox! You can’t put anything heavy on it!’ came a loud voice echoing over the noise of the slots. Lewis jerked his head around to see the most fabulous creature tottering her way across the floor, hair bouncing on her shoulders as her hips wiggled, a porter wheeling a trolley piled high with luggage beside her.

‘Tiger!’ Lewis cried out, striding towards her, quickly breaking into a run.

‘Oh man! I fell asleep on the flight and then had to spend half an hour touching up my hair and make-up after we landed,’ laughed Tiger. ‘Couldn’t let anyone see me looking less than showroom, darling!’

Lewis couldn’t stop a huge smile from spreading across his face as he picked her up in a bear hug and swung her around.

‘Woah there! Now that’s a welcome!’ said Tiger. ‘Most unlike you! Have you been drinking?’

‘No … for the first time in my life, I – I missed you, that’s all.’

‘Oh, eeeeuww! Porter? Can I have the old Lewis Bond back please? Moody Lewis I can handle but soppy Lewis? Jeez. Come on you, let’s get to the hotel, I could murder a Martini.’