The Exciting Life (11 page)

‘
You didn’t think I wanted to finish with you, did you?’ Eddie
said, rubbing her back. ‘I love you too much.’

She
pulled away and looked at him.

‘
You’ve never said that before.’

‘
I’ve not said it very much to anyone. I’ve never been in love
before. But I’m mad about you Annie.’

‘
I love you too,’ she replied. And she did love him. He was
dependable and devoted and wanted to look after her. What more
could she ask for? ‘I’m so glad I met you Eddie.’

Annie
pulled out all the stops when choosing her outfit for the fashion
show. Mandy worked for the designer Horace Pendelope and had
secured Annie one of his most glamorous creations – a blue silk
dress that had shimmers of green running through it and a pattern
made of peacock feathers around the bottom. She was also wearing a
jade hair pin that Aunt Nesta had given her for her eighteenth
birthday. It had belonged to Betsey, Nesta’s American mother who
Annie had only ever met once - when she visited London after the
war; but she died shortly after returning to New York. She used it
to fix her hair up on one side and finished the outfit with the
pair of dark green silk stilettos Eddie had had made especially for
her. Annie had no idea what Iris would be wearing, but she could
guarantee it would be something either ostentatious or
inappropriate, and she was determined to be the one who came off
better dressed.

Mandy
arrived, looking sensational in a blood red dress that clung to her
every curve, and Annie could see by the expression on Eddie’s face
that he was looking forward to arriving at the club with two
beautiful women on his arm. They took a taxi the short journey to
Bruno’s, and Annie was pleased to see the red carpet had been laid
out on the pavement as she requested. The doormen had been provided
by Patrick, but they weren’t the usual thugs, instead they were
much more acceptable-looking, and no one would ever guess they made
their living from beating the shit out of people.

Bruno’s
was awash with hip young things. Some were already sitting down
waiting for the show to begin. Others were standing by the bar,
chatting. Annie didn’t recognise many of the people here. The
usuals certainly weren’t here, and it seemed these guests had been
invited by Iris, Patrick and Ralf.

‘
I’m going to see how Al’s getting on with setting up,’ Eddie
said, heading over to the young man with the Elvis quiff and rather
baggy suit in the corner, who was fiddling with the microphone
stand.

‘
Who are these people?’ Annie asked, looking around at the
Bohemian types in their strange clothes; smoking coloured
cigarettes and laughing far too loudly. Annie was sure she could
smell marijuana. She and Mario had once shared a reefer with a
Spanish artist when there had been a race in Barcelona. Annie
hadn’t been keen on it, but Mario had thoroughly enjoyed the
experience and had ‘scored’ some more when he came back to England.
He would smoke it with his arty friends and Annie always hated the
smell that got left behind. Now that smell was wafting about her
nightclub.

‘
Friends of Miss Lindholm?’ Mandy replied. ‘Let’s face it, we
know so little about her, we don’t know what sort of people she
hangs around with.’

Annie
jumped out of her skin when a voice came from behind
her.

‘
I’m surprised you bothered to turn up.’

She
turned around and found that it was Kenneth. He had that usual
disapproving look on his face, and was accompanied by a rather
plain looking girl in horn-rimmed glasses.

‘
Hello Kenneth,’ Annie said.

‘
Not like you to have a ladyfriend Kenneth,’ Mandy quipped. She
was convinced that Kenneth was homosexual, but Annie refused to
believe it of her brother – he was far too religious to be that
way.

‘
This is Miss Sykes, she works with me,’ he said. ‘Miss Sykes,
this is my sister Annie and her friend Miss Norris.’

‘
Why would you think I wouldn’t come?’ Annie snapped, not even
bothering to acknowledge Miss Sykes. ‘This is my club.’

‘
Iris seemed to think you weren’t very keen on the idea of
having the fashion show. Catering to spivs is more your sort of
thing.’

‘
I had no objections to having the fashion show. I just would
have liked to have been involved. Sometimes Iris forgets that
Patrick doesn’t own any part of this club. He just has an interest
in it.’

‘
Talk of the devil,’ Mandy said quietly.

‘
Glad you could make it Kenneth!’ Iris boomed as she walked
towards them. She was squeezed into a silver, sparkling creation
that, along with her blonde hair and pale skin, made her look like
the fairy on top of the Christmas tree.

‘
Iris,’ he smiled, sounding more affectionate to her than he
ever had to Annie. ‘You look wonderful.’

‘
Thank you,’ she gushed.

They
kissed each other’s cheeks, and Kenneth introduced her to Miss
Sykes, who told her that her dress was beautiful. It was only then
that Iris seemed to notice Annie and Mandy were there.

‘
What a pretty dress,’ she said to Annie in a patronising tone
of voice. She then looked at Mandy and frowned. ‘Have you lost
weight?’ she asked.

‘
Not that I’m aware of,’ Mandy replied.

‘
Well that dress is very slimming. You should wear more like
it.’

Annie
had to get away from Iris as soon as she possibly could, and made
her excuses, saying she was going to see how Eddie was getting on.
She was stopped by Patrick, who stepped out from the queue at the
bar and stood in front of her.

‘
That’s quite some dress,’ he smiled.

‘
I feel quite dowdy compared to your girlfriend.’

‘
It’s her night, she feels she’s got to make the
effort.’

‘
If you say so.’

‘
Let me introduce you to Oscar London,’ he said, ushering
forward a young man who was prematurely balding. ‘Oscar, this is
Annie Holland.’

‘
It’s a pleasure Annie,’ Oscar said, kissing Annie’s hand. ‘I
was a great fan of your husband. His death was a loss to motor
racing.’

‘
Thank you,’ she replied. ‘I hear you’re making a
film.’

‘
Hopefully,’ he smiled. ‘It’s dramatisation of a John Crayford
novel ‘Just A Girl’. Have you heard of it?’

‘
I’m afraid I haven’t. I always find I’m too busy to read.
What’s it about?’

‘
It’s about a girl from Manchester who becomes pregnant by her
dad’s friend and runs away to London to become an actress. It’s all
very depressing and doesn’t end well. But there’s a future for
these kinds of films so I’m told.’

‘
You want to talk to Eddie, my boyfriend,’ she said, liking to
talk about Eddie in front of Patrick – reminding him that he’d
chosen Iris over her. ‘He knows lots of people in the music and
film business. He might be able to help.’

‘
I’ll do that, thank you.’

Like a
bad smell, Iris appeared again. Draping herself all over Patrick,
hanging onto him and staking her claim.

‘
I hope you’re going to buy one of Ralf’s dresses for your
girlfriend,’ she said to Oscar.

‘
Alas I’m a single man,’ Oscar said. ‘But I’m looking forward
to seeing what he has on offer.’ He looked at Annie. ‘I hear you
design shoes. Are you supplying the shoes for tonight?’

‘
No, I wasn’t asked to,’ she said bitterly, then realised it
sounded very unprofessional. ‘I’m sure Iris would have asked me if
she’d had longer. But look how quickly she’s arranged all this. I
wouldn’t have had time to make any shoes!’

The show
soon got underway and the atmosphere was electric as the models
paraded up and down, showing off Ralf Silver's rather garish
clothes. Al Dunne's light, breezy pop music provided the perfect
backdrop, and it stuck in Annie's throat that something Iris had
arranged was going well. She stood watching on, holding onto
Patrick's arm and smiling like the cat who'd got the cream. At the
end, Ralf walked along the ‘catwalk’ accompanied by two models,
while everyone clapped him. Annie joined in reluctantly, and Eddie
stood beside her, chuckling at her.

‘
Now now, be a good sport,’ he said.

‘
They could have at least used our shoes,’ she pouted. ‘I’m a
bloody shoe designer and everyone’s asking why they’re not wearing
my shoes.’

‘
Yes my darling. But your shoes are high couture. His clothes
are the sort of tat that’ll be worn by shop-girls.’

Once the
applause had finished, Annie got a surprise when Kenneth went over
to Al and gestured to his microphone. Al pulled a puzzled face and
nodded, and Kenneth took the microphone from the stand, holding
onto the cord. With his suave good looks, and in his tuxedo, he
looked like some sort of crooner about to break into
song.

‘
If I could just say a few words,’ he said, his stammer seeming
more obvious when amplified by a microphone.

Everyone
stopped and listened to him, and Annie wondered what the hell he
was going to say.

‘
I’d like to thank everyone for coming here tonight. People may
think Tanner Beresford gets money from the government, but we
don’t. All our funds are provided by the public, or left to us in
trusts. The money raised tonight will go towards building new
housing estates for people who are still displaced after the
war.’

There
was a collective gasp around the room, and this made Kenneth smile
smugly – there was nothing he liked more than to prove a point. For
those who had never suffered, the thought of people still being
homeless - fourteen years after the end of the war - seemed
horrendous.

‘
Oh yes,’ he continued. ‘We still have serious overcrowding.
Many people who were left homeless in the war are still sharing
with friends or family, or renting off unscrupulous landlords. It
is immoral that in 1959 there are still slums in many parts of
London. Especially the new immigrant areas in West
London.’

‘
Oh God it’s going to be a lecture,’ Annie groaned, leaning her
head against Eddie’s shoulder.

‘
I’d like to thank Patrick Collins for allowing us to use his
club for the event,’ Kenneth continued. ‘And my sister Annie for
making sure everything ran smoothly. But mostly, I’d like to thank
Miss Iris Lindholm. This was all her idea and I’d like her to come
here, so we can all give her a round of applause.’

Iris
acted all bashful but she practically flew over to Kenneth, and
giggled girlishly when he put his arm around her shoulder and
everyone applauded her. Annie looked over at Patrick and he was
smiling proudly and clapping, but he caught her eye and when he
did, he mockingly rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

‘
Kenneth’s done this deliberately,’ Annie said to Eddie.
‘Everyone knows this is my club, and yet he thanked Patrick and
treated me as if I was some little lacky.’

Before
she had the chance to confront her brother, the journalists
gathered around Kenneth and Iris - dazzling them with their
flashbulbs, and throwing questions at them. Right at that moment
Annie felt like telling Bernie Collins he could have the club. With
each day she felt more and more like a spare part.

Suddenly, from the throng, Iris appeared - holding out her
hand towards Annie. The journalists all followed her, capturing her
every move.

‘
We couldn’t have done this without Annie,’ she said, grasping
Annie’s hand. ‘Come and have your photo taken with us.’

Reluctantly, Annie went and stood with Iris and Kenneth. Her
brother put his arm around Iris’s waist, but didn’t do the same to
his sister. The photographers knew it would make a fabulous photo -
the handsome charity owner flanked by two beautiful girls. No doubt
the accompanying article would mention the fact that he and Annie
were the adopted niece and nephew of Alicia Bloom. And Iris
Lindholm was going to cash in on it all.

Once the
press had left, and the guests started to go too, Annie wondered if
she should help tidy up. They would be open for business the
following night and the club would have to go back to normal. But
in the end she couldn’t be bothered. Let Iris do it. This night was
all hers, she could do some hard work for once.

‘
Come on,’ she said to Eddie. ‘We’re going home.’

‘
Don’t you want to help clear up?’ he asked.

‘
No. According to my brother, Patrick’s the owner. Let his
girlfriend do it for him.’

Chapter Eight

June
1959

Iris was
so exhausted she couldn’t move. An afternoon spent with Leo was
like a week with any other man. She had to lay on her stomach
because he loved to spank her bottom with a wooden handled
hairbrush, and it was too painful to lay on it. These afternoons at
The Wallace Hotel were becoming a regular occurrence, and Iris
found herself looking more and more forward to them. She didn’t
like going to Leo’s flat – it made it feel as though they were
having an affair. Meeting in hotels was more what she was used to.
Leo was a brute who often treated her worse than any of the punters
she’d had in the past – she lost count of the times she’d told
Patrick she’d fallen down stairs, or wobbled over in a pair of
Annie’s heels. But she couldn’t give him up. As a child, while her
mother went out whoring herself, Iris would sit at home waiting for
her to come back and would burn her fingers with matches. She’d
test herself over and over again, doing it for longer each time
until the pain was unbearable. She’d always been drawn to the
darker side of life and enjoyed things that hurt her, and Leo was
just the person to tap into that.