The Exciting Life (12 page)

He sat
at the dressing table, fixing his cuff-links and running his hands
through his thick, dark hair. He was probably the vainest man Iris
had ever encountered.

‘
Why don’t you come down to Cannes with me next week?’ he
suggested.

‘
Cannes?’

‘
Yes. Gideon Banks has invited me down to stay on his yacht.’
He turned and looked at Iris, smiling. ‘You’ll love Gideon’s crowd.
Anything goes. Any sort of debauchery is allowed.’

‘
What would I say to Patrick?’

‘
Couldn’t you say you were staying with friends?’

‘
I haven’t got any friends. Well, none Pat knows about. There
are plenty of girls I know from back in my working days. But these
days Ralf’s probably the only friend I’ve got.’

‘
He’d cover for you wouldn’t he? Little queers like him love a
good scandal.’

‘
I doubt if her ladyship would let me have a week off anyway,’
Iris said, daring to roll onto her back and wincing as her tender
skin met the crumpled sheets.

‘
Why don’t you stop working for her?’ Leo said, getting up and
sitting on the send of the bed so he could put on his shoes. ‘Let
me keep you.’

‘
What do you mean? Keep me?’

He lay
back on the bed and looked up at her, a devillish smile on his
face.

‘
Be my plaything Iris. I’ll give you as much money as you need.
All you have to do is be a beautiful accessory on my arm; do
whatever I want you to do in bed, and turn a blind eye if I should
stray. I’m worth millions Iris. You’d never want for
anything.’

While it
was a very tempting offer, there was a big obstacle that stopped
her accepting, and that was Patrick. While he didn’t excite her
like Leo - she found the sex they had, boring and she didn’t like
the way he took Annie more seriously than her, the truth was, she
loved him. He was the only man who’d ever treated her like a lady.
He knew nothing of her past, and never asked her about it. She
couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again; just to be the
plaything of a man who would never be serious about her.

‘
Let’s keep things how they are,’ she said to Leo, stroking his
wavy hair. ‘What we have is so delicious, it would spoil things if
we were together all the time.’

‘
Have it your way,’ he sighed, sitting up. ‘You’re a tough nut
to crack Iris Lindholm. But I’ll get there eventually.’

Iris
went home to Streatham and had a long, hot bath, soothing away all
the aches and pains after her time with Leo. She was going to
dinner with Patrick that night and she wanted to wash Leo away
before she saw him. As she lay in the silence, with just the sound
of the water lapping against the side of the bath, she thought
about Leo’s offer. The old Iris would have accepted it without
thinking; but what Leo offered her wasn’t as thrilling as the
thought of making Annie Holland’s life a misery. Of seeing that
sour little face wince every time Iris touched or kissed Patrick.
Knowing that it stuck in Annie’s throat whenever Iris met up with
Kenneth to discuss ideas for fundraising for Tanner Beresford. She
could tell it angered Annie that after the fashion show,
commissions had started to come in for Ralf Silver, whereas orders
for her shoes were dripping in slowly. And most of all to go with
Leo would mean giving up Patrick. She’d never go to Bruno’s again,
and Leo definitely wouldn’t tolerate her working for Annie. She’d
only recently given up all her clients; if she accepted Leo’s offer
she would just become a glorified whore again. She’d been
prostituting herself since she was thirteen years old, she never
wanted to do it again.

She
dressed for dinner in a dress that Ralf had made exclusively for
her. It was an emerald green, silk evening gown with white flowers
stitched all the way down the side. She put her hair up and applied
subtle make up. The only evidence of her time with Leo was a bruise
around her right wrist, which she covered up with a silver cuff
bracelet. She looked the picture of elegance and sophistication and
that was the new image she had no intention of changing.

It was
Patrick’s birthday and they were going to La Mancha for a
celebratory meal. It was the only restaurant in England that served
Spanish food and was terribly expensive. Of course Patrick wouldn’t
be paying full price; Carlos, the head waiter owed Bernie Collins a
lot of money in gambling debts, so they were getting their meal
half price. Iris ordered squid in tomato sauce, thinking it made
her sound sophisticated, but it was so revolting, she could only
push it around her plate and claim she was watching her
figure.

‘
I want you to get used to eating exotic food Iris,’ Patrick
said, chomping his way through a horrible-looking, over-cooked
sausage. ‘When I’m rich, I’m going to take you all around the
world.’

‘
Are you now?’ she laughed. ‘Where are we going to go
first?’

‘
America. I’ve never been. I went skiing in Switzerland with
school once, and that was it. I’ve never been anywhere else. I was
at school with boys who’d lived in India and Kenya. Where had I
lived? Kilburn!’

‘
Well at least you’ve had to work for what you’ve got. I can’t
stand people who have everything handed to them on a
plate.’

‘
Annie you mean?’ he quipped. Iris had never hid her feelings
for his business partner and Patrick found their rivalry
amusing.

‘
Yes. She doesn’t know what it’s like to struggle. Although I
do think she’s finding running the business difficult. No one’s
interested in her shoes.’

‘
Don’t sound so smug about it Iris love,’ Patrick
said.

‘
Well
I think you should make her
another offer to buy Bruno’s. I reckon she’d take it. She’s spent
all her uncle’s trust fund and she’s hardly making enough money to
pay me and Shirley our wages. Before long she’ll have to model the
shoes herself.’

‘
I didn’t realise it was that bad for her. Can’t that Eddie
help?’

‘
He’s got a few of his acts to wear her shoes, but no one’s
interested. I think if nothing happens after Fiona Miller’s
wedding, she’ll give up the ghost, sell the building and probably
marry Eddie.’

Iris
regretted saying this, as the puzzled and hurt look on Patrick’s
face, told her a lot. She was going to have to make this work to
her advantage.

‘
Eddie’s asked her to marry him?’ he uttered.

‘
No, but it’s only a matter of time. If she sold Bruno’s to
you, she’d have more money to invest in the company and she
wouldn’t have to marry him. I suppose if she didn’t marry Eddie,
she might move to New York instead and stay with Alicia
Bloom.’

‘
I wish she’d told me things had got that bad. Poor
Annie.’

‘
Poor Annie my backside,’ Iris tutted. ‘She’s brought it all on
herself.’

Patrick
looked at her and frowned.

‘
Why do you dislike her so much?’ he asked. ‘Don’t give me all
that ungrateful stuff. There’s more to it than that. It’s
personal.’

Dare she
tell him? Could she trust him with such a big secret? Or would he
go running to his precious Annie and tell her everything? Before
Iris could make her mind up, they were interrupted by a loud cry
of;

‘
Collins old chap!’

They
both looked up and saw Oscar London heading towards them. He looked
happy and slightly drunk, as he was almost bashing into the tables
he was weaving in and out of.

‘
Hello old chap,’ Patrick said as he joined them. ‘You look
happy.’

‘
I wanted to thank you both,’ Oscar said, sitting on the spare
seat next to Iris. ‘Dad was so impressed with the fashion show you
put on, he’s accepted you as a backer for the film. And not only
that, he’s persuaded Walter Hatton to invest the rest of the money,
so we can go ahead.’

‘
Walter Hatton the film director?’ Patrick asked.

‘
Yes, and he wants to direct Just A Girl. We’re all systems go.
You’ve just produced your first film Patrick!’

‘
This calls for champagne!’ Patrick beamed. He looked at Iris.
‘Don’t worry about eating this muck love. We’re going to Bruno’s to
celebrate.’

They
walked the short distance to Bruno’s, and all the way there, the
two men discussed their film, leaving Iris trailing behind. The
fundraising had been her idea – she was the one who guessed it
would prove to Oscar London’s father that Patrick was respectable;
and yet, as typical with men, they were taking all the glory. Even
worse was when they got to Bruno’s, and walked in the door, they
were immediately greeted by Annie. She looked exhausted, and Iris
knew this was because Fiona Miller was making her life a misery -
constantly making changes to her wedding shoes and calling Annie up
all hours of the day and night to express her concerns.

‘
I wasn’t expecting you all,’ she said, taking the men’s
raincoats. ‘Happy Birthday Patrick.’

‘
Thanks darling,’ he said, kissing her on the cheek. ‘We’re
celebrating.’

‘
Oh yes, what is it?’

‘
I’m going to become a film producer.’

‘
Fantastic!’ she gasped. ‘Come inside and tell me all about
it.’

So once
again Iris was pushed to the sidelines. Even worse, Eddie wasn't
there, which meant Patrick could lavish all his attention on Annie
without worrying about getting a punch on the nose. Annie, Oscar
and Patrick were all young and wealthy and on the threshold of
success, whereas Iris felt like a hanger-on. She decided to go off
and mingle and play the part of the owner's girlfriend. Even though
Patrick didn't own Bruno’s, she was hoping her meddling would work
and he'd soon make Annie an offer she couldn't refuse.

Iris
walked off, spotting Reg Chisholm, one of the regulars. He was a
backbench MP who liked to come here before sauntering off to Soho
to pick up a hooker. He was always alone - he wouldn't want his
cronies knowing he indulged in such behaviour. Iris thought she
would go and chat to him. But before she reached him, she was
stopped by a woman stepping out in front of her. For a moment she
just looked like another bottle blonde in her mid-forties, but
there was something in the steely blue eyes that took Iris back in
time to a place she never wanted to visit again. She quickly
stepped to one side, trying to by-pass the woman, but she stepped
in front of her once more.

‘
Talk to me Iris,’ she pleaded. ‘Since I saw you all in the
paper I've been coming in here hoping to see you.’

‘
Have you said anything to Annie?’ Iris hissed, taking her arm
and leading her to a dark corner - where she belonged.

‘
Of course I haven’t said anything to her, she's no idea who I
am.’

‘
And it's got to stay that way. Get out Norma.’

‘
Norma is it?’ she said, putting a hand on her skinny hip. ‘You
used to call me Mum.’

‘
You stopped being my mum when you walked out on me when I was
thirteen and left me to whore myself.’

‘
And I’m sorry about that Iris. At least give me the chance to
explain myself. I want make it up to you.’

‘
No, just get out.’

Iris
felt a hand on her shoulder and her blood ran cold.

‘
Everything alright here.’ It was Patrick, and Iris was
terrified that Norma was going to say something.

‘
Hello love,’ Norma said.’I'm Norma Francis. I'm an old friend
of Iris's.’

‘
Yes but she's got to go now,’ Iris said quickly. ‘I'll see you
out Norma.’

She
grasped her mother’s bony arm and practically dragged her out of
the club. Norma could ruin everything for her. Iris had come so far
and she didn't need her sordid past coming back to haunt her. She
frogmarched Norma out of the door and up the stairs to the street.
The sodium streetlight showed up the lines and wrinkles in Norma’s
face, and she didn’t look quite so glamorous now. She looked like
someone who’d had a hard life, and this pleased Iris – she deserved
to suffer.

‘
Are you after money?’ Iris snapped.

‘
No. I just wanted to make up for everything I’ve
done.’

‘
Well I don’t want you around, now get lost.’

‘
You can’t shut me out Iris. I know too much about
you.’

Iris
opened her handbag and took out her purse, pulling out every single
note of money she had in there, and thrust it at her
mother.

‘
Take this,’ she said. ‘Take it and leave me alone.’

‘
I’ll be back,’ Norma said. ‘You can’t get rid of me that
easily.’

She
turned and sauntered off. From the back, she looked good. She’d
kept her figure and she still had that model walk Iris had tried to
copy as a little girl. As she disappeared into the misty night,
Iris started to shake. Her whole life flashing before her. She
tried to breathe but it was as though no air was entering her
lungs. She needed to talk to someone, but knew she couldn’t say a
word to Patrick. He only knew so much about her and she wanted to
keep it that way.