Read Chapter One, by clicking here
...Only two years after I posted Chapter One, the story continues... :)
The doorbell sounded
like the Addams Family dinner-gong, and that was how celebrity told
you it had landed in this neighbourhood. The louder the bell, the
more famous and popular the neighbours knew you were.
“Good afternoon,
Baby!” the almond-eyed, ebony-skinned goddess purred as she opened
the door, wearing one of her own signature velour track-suits and
gold trainers. Her poker-straight blonde weave extensions shone like
bronze in the Malibu afternoon.
The visitor, who had
frozen at the over-familiarised endearment, switched on a smile and
offered a hand. Audrey Hepworth couldn’t have been more different
to her hostess. Wearing her brunette hair high in a French pleat,
with a belted lilac shift dress, matching swing coat and Mary Jane courts, her skimmed-milk complexion hidden behind huge Jackie O
sunglasses, she looked as though she had just stepped off the cover plate
of a vintage Vogue.
“Audrey,” Audrey
greeted the style icon, as they shook hands more formally. “May I
say this is fabulous? Is it true your chandelier was from the famous
Coronado hotel featured in Some Like It Hot?”
“Well, it was from
some swanky hotel somewhere,” the singer laughed. “Come in, come
in. The boys are out at some guy thing in Vegas for the weekend. But
I don’t care because I have a new toy to keep me going. While the
cat’s away, the girls will play. Come and check it out.”
With a barely
concealed gulp, Audrey propped her sunglasses on top of her head,
took out her personal recorder and followed the more languid lady
into the seventy-one room mansion. The studded and reinforced front
door closed behind her with an equally Gothic boom.
“Wonderful stained
glass,” Audrey mused, admiring the rainbow light flooding the
staircase in the main entrance hall. “Contemporary?”
“It’s all from
some old church in England. My ex-husband bought it as a renovation
project, took the windows out pretending they needed restoration, and
shipped them over here. He got some guy to make Perspex replicas for
the church. Neat, huh?”
“Hmmm.” Audrey’s
thoughts on the matter were inscrutable.
“Never mind the
old windows. Come to where the magic happens and I’ll show you my
new toy.”
Audrey was not
entirely sure what to expect or where they were going, but followed
her hostess as she padded cat-like through the ground floor of
the house. There was no mistaking that this was a big boy’s
playpen. They crossed a pool hall, and a through a den set up for
poker and roulette. The glass-and-stainless-steel designer kitchen
had more knives on display than a travelling stunt circus. Finally
they cut across the ‘back porch’ as the singer described it
modestly, with its fully al-fresco marble bathroom and shower
complete with tub, lavatory, bidet and urinals, and around the pool
in the shape of a Beretta semi-automatic.
Fanning herself with
her clutch-purse, Audrey followed the owner through a door and found
herself in a large garage.
“Oh,” she said,
rather relieved, and the air-conditioning took the edge off her
blush. Her eyes adjusted, and the singer switched on the
spotlighting. “Well, this is all very clean. Good clean fun.”
“This is the
magic, Baby.” The goddess ran a loving hand over the brick-like
shape of a new black Hummer. “Gold-plated grill, illuminated
spinning rims, tinted bullet-proof glass, 360 degree shielding,
stinger-proof tyres, security GPS - engine tuned by Bugatti - it
don’t get hotter than this.”
She slid open a side
door.
“Sound system
straight from the Masters of Mix,” she said. “Next time you hear
about a quake on this side of the coast, you’ll know what caused
it.”
“Gosh,” Audrey
nodded. The singer went on in some detail as to the specifications,
leaving Audrey in no doubt as to who expected recognition as the
alpha-female in the room. The one with her balls out, as it were.
“…But you know
what?” the singer continued, and her tone dropped slightly. “My new fella, Billy-Bo - he hates it. I just don’t understand. He’s got
everything right here he could ever want. And yet he pulls out and
jets off to Vegas to do it all with the guys. I don’t get it. He
turned to me when I was buying this car, and said to me ‘Honey,
this car is all of your problems rolled into one.’ What do you
suppose he means by that?”
Audrey found herself
on the receiving end of a genuine pause, and sighed.
“Well,” she said
at last, and slipped off her lilac coat. “Let me demonstrate.”
She approached the
front of the Hummer, and ran her hand up the golden grill.
“It’s all too
vertical,” she said. “Whereas this - is this your partner’s?”
She gestured to the
yellow Lamborghini parked opposite.
“Uh, yeah, he
bought it as a birthday present for me, but it’s not my style. But he
keeps it anyway, I don’t know why…”
Audrey walked over
to the sports car, turned around, hiked her skirt a little, and flung
herself back on the bonnet. Her hostess gave a shocked gasp.
“Now, this is more
like it,” Audrey said, gazing at the garage ceiling. She raised one
knee delicately and wriggled, showing half an inch of stocking-top.
“See? That’s what the advantage is. It says, Take me now, you
sexy beast.”
She slid off the
Lamborghini, straightened her skirt and walked back over to the
Hummer.
“While this just
says, I’m going to ram-raid you and leave you for dead, making off
with all your cash,” she said. “Which I’m sure isn’t in any
way a fair portrayal of your relationship with Mr. Billy-Bo.”
“Well, I certainly
hope not,” muttered the singer. “He’s a guy - I just expected
him to dig chicks who were into cars and guy shit.”
“Never mind. It’s
all just speculation, about what goes on in men’s minds,” Audrey
reassured her, picking up her coat and recorder again. “Let’s
start the interview. So, the magazine is interested in your plans for
a white wedding…?”
