Lucky (47 page)

‘Listen to me,’ said Paige forcefully. She didn’t want to hear about how terrible Gino was. She happened to think Gino was pretty special, and for just that reason she planned to give up all her other lovers – including Susan. ‘Ryder has changed. I don’t know what’s come over him – but he has certainly changed, and it’s for the better.’

Susan stared at her blankly. ‘What?’

‘I want to give our marriage a fair chance,’ Paige said with false conviction.

‘What?’ Susan repeated numbly.

‘Excuse me, ladies.’ The man whose eye Paige had caught earlier was at their table. He was middle-aged and L.A. casual. ‘I have taken the liberty of ordering champagne.’

The waiter deposited an ice bucket with a bottle of Dom Perignon next to the table.

‘My friend and I decided that two beautiful women such as yourselves deserve only the best,’ said the man. At which point his friend, short with a beard, joined him, and they stood there expectantly, waiting to be asked to join the party.

‘Thank you,’ Paige said graciously, crossing her legs.

They caught her scent and stood ramrod straight. Two hounds ready for the chase.

‘I
would
ask you to join us’, she continued, ‘but Mrs Santangelo has just suffered a death in the family – so I am sure you can understand this is not the right time for us to become . . . social.’

‘Sure,’
the first man said emphatically. ‘Wouldn’t dream of troubling you and Mrs Santer – um, maybe
you
might be free for dinner later?’

‘What a tempting offer,’ Paige sighed. ‘But quite impossible. So nice meeting you.’ She re-crossed her legs, giving them another whiff of paradise, and dismissed them by turning her back.

They got the message and walked reluctantly off.

‘What do you mean – you’re giving your marriage a fair chance?’ Susan asked in a furious whisper.

‘Exactly what it sounds like’, Paige replied calmly. ‘I’m going to be faithful.’

‘You!’ exclaimed Susan scornfully.
‘Never!’

The waiter poured champagne.

‘Please don’t underestimate me,’ Paige murmured. ‘If I want to do something
I do it.’

Susan’s eyes filled with tears. ‘What about us?’ she asked mournfully.

‘We’ll put what we had on hold, and see what happens.’

Alice Golden arrived in Las Vegas two days after her son’s wedding made worldwide headlines. She was not exactly what he needed in his life at that particular moment. He had a wife, and stepdaughter and he was busy trying to get used to
them.
An instant mother was unnecessary luggage. However – to hear Alice tell it – mother and son had been inseparable. She had taught him everything he knew. And while Olympia entering their tightly knit relationship was a shock – Alice was prepared to accept her with open arms. She had given three ‘exclusive’ interviews to that effect before she even saw Lennie.

He greeted her warily as she was ushered into his suite by a bemused Jess.

‘I found her kicking up a fuss in the lobby,’ Jess whispered, ‘demanding God knows what, so I thought I’d better bring her up. I don’t think she remembers me.’

‘My darling!’ Alice exclaimed, throwing open her spidery arms. Dieting had caused her flesh to become scrawny, and her hair was bleached a ‘too white’ blonde. She hugged Lennie tightly.

‘Alice,’ he said, ‘what are
you
doing here?’

‘What am I doing here?’ She gazed around the suite as if there was an attentive audience, when in fact there was only Jess and Lennie. ‘What am I doing here? Your mother. Your flesh and blood. What am I doing here. Hah! A funny kind of question from a boy who just got married without a word to his caring, worrying,
lonely
mother.’

Finally
she was doing Jewish mother schtick. Lennie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘Cut it out, Alice,’ he said.

Jess hovered. She couldn’t make up her mind if she should stay or go. Lennie made it up for her. ‘Order tea,’ he said brusquely, ‘for the three of us.’

Alice was clutching a battered carpet-bag which had obviously seen better days. She placed it on the floor and looked around. ‘Where’s the hairness?’ she asked.

‘The what?’ questioned Lennie.

‘I think she means heiress’, said Jess, trying to stifle a giggle. ‘Isn’t that what you mean, Mrs Golden? Heiress?’

Alice peered at her through three sets of stiff false eyelashes. ‘Who are you?’ she asked crossly. ‘You look familiar.’

‘Lennie’s old school friend, Jess Skolsky.’

Alice stared. ‘The shrimp,’ she said at last, bringing back every painful memory Jess had of growing up.

Alice sat down on the couch. She was wearing a cheap polyester dress, cut low to exhibit tired breasts, and short to exhibit still spectacular legs. ‘I flew here,’ she announced. ‘The men on the plane wouldn’t leave me alone. When I told everyone I was your mother, Lennie, the women wouldn’t leave me alone. I have four numbers for you, but I don’t expect you’ll want them now you’re married.’

‘My wife wouldn’t be thrilled,’ he commented dryly.

‘Where is she? I came to see for myself this . . .’ she paused, determined to get the word right, ‘hairess.’

‘Her name’s Olympia.’

‘Fancy name.’ She favoured him with an accusing look. ‘You could have phoned me. You could have
invited
me to the wedding. You could have told me you were headlining in Vegas – my home – my town. I was a star here too, once, you know. Not
that
long ago. Alice the Swizzle. I’m
still
famous in this town. You should only know how famous.
You
should be as famous as I once was – maybe still am. Who knows if they remember . . .’ she trailed off.

‘Where are you staying, Mrs Golden?’ Jess asked politely, thinking the time had come to ease her out. Lennie liked to be alone before the evening show.

‘Here, of course’, Alice snapped waspishly. ‘Arrange it for me. I
am
the star’s mother you know. I deserve recognition. Without me he wouldn’t be here, would he?’

‘And how long will you be staying?’

‘As long as my boy wants me to.’

Lennie shrugged helplessly. ‘I just got married y’know.’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

He didn’t have the heart to tell her to get lost. Who needed a mother after thirty-two years?

Whether he needed her or not she was very much present. Olympia and Alice together should be a riot. He couldn’t wait.

*   *   *

The day after the reception – as soon as she was sure her wedding pictures covered the world press – Olympia phoned Flash in the south of France. A girlish voice answered.

‘Get me Flash,’ Olympia demanded imperiously. ‘And hurry up, I’m calling from America.’

She then had an eleven minute wait before his rich Cockney tones crackled down the line. ‘I s’pose it’s you,’ he remarked rudely. ‘Fuckin’ marvellous! I waited at the airport two bleedin’ hours last week, an’ I don’t usually give airport.’

‘Did you honestly expect me to come?’

‘Why not? You said you was comin’.’

‘I didn’t come,’ she said icily, ‘because I don’t think
your wife
would have liked it.’

‘Aw shit? Is
that
what you’re on about?’

‘
Your wife
, Flash.
Your wife
whom you somehow neglected to mention to me. Your
pregnant teenage
wife. God, you’re a prick!’

He gave a whisky-soaked laugh. ‘You bin readin’ those supermarket rags? Didn’t think rich bints like you ever went near a bleedin’ supermarket.’

‘Real life does have a habit of catching up with one – rich or not. I’ve had all your things from the New York apartment packed up and sent to the Goodwill.’

Outrage. ‘Yer
what?’

‘You heard.’

‘Jesus Christ!’

‘And talking of newspapers, have you read yours today?’

‘You’re a really stupid cow.’

‘To put up with you, I must have been.’

‘Get your fat arse over here an’ I’ll explain everything.’

‘Shall I bring my husband?’

‘Yer what?’

‘Read the papers.’

‘Aw, c’mon – yer silly bitch. You didn’t go an’ do it?’

‘It seemed to be all the fashion.’

‘Who’d you do it
with?
Not that Spanish asshole with the wig.’

‘I resisted the temptation.’

‘Thank Christ for that.’

‘I married Lennie Golden.’

‘Who’s he?’

This conversation was not proceeding as Olympia had hoped. First of all she had confidently expected Flash to know all about her wedding. And she had certainly expected him to know who Lennie was.

‘I really hate you,’ she snapped irrationally.

‘Are you comin’ or not?’

‘Haven’t you been listening to me? I’m
married
– just like you. It’s over.’

He was clearly bored. ‘Suit yerself, Tubs.’

She could almost see him twitch his skinny shoulders, the way he did when he was aggravated or fed up. He didn’t give a damn! Furiously she slammed the phone down. Her father had been right all along. Flash was a selfish, depraved user and she was well rid of him.

So why did she feel so blue? She was a bride again. She should be singing and laughing. At least have a smile on her face.

She visited her stash and snorted some coke. Who was Lennie Golden anyway? And
why
had she married him? To spite Flash? Kind of a dumb reason to tie oneself up.

God! What had she done? Lennie seemed nice enough, and he was attractive and great in bed – but nice guys had never been her scene. She had made another mistake. In a few weeks, after the cruise, she would instruct her lawyer to get her out of it. No big deal. Another pay off. She could afford it. There had to be
some
compensations for being rich.

Lucky planned to take only sports clothes on the cruise, but Dimitri informed her – rather late in the day, that dinner each evening was a formal affair.

‘You dress for dinner?’ she asked, amazed.

‘Tradition,’ he replied.

‘Whose tradition?’

‘Mine.’

She searched his granite face for any sign of humour. There was none. Now that she was his wife she realized she didn’t know him very well at all. In the eighteen months they had been together it had been an intermittent affair – with short blocks of time spent on his island – where they had been alone and wonderfully relaxed. Now a new Dimitri seemed to be emerging. A stuffy man with rigid tastes and a strict code of behaviour. She wasn’t sure she liked the new Dimitri at all. She
was
sure she should have kept the relationship the way it was before. Why had she given in to his pressure?

The property deal in Atlantic City was almost set, and she was elated about that. But she dreaded the cruise. Hopefully she would be able to find a quiet corner and flake out.

Dimitri had decided that this year it would take place in the south of France. He didn’t mention to anyone – especially Lucky – that this was to accommodate Francesca who had a gala dinner being given for her in Monte Carlo she did not wish to miss.

They flew by Concorde from New York to Paris, and from there a private Lear jet transported them to Nice airport, where a chauffered Rolls waited to take them to
The Greek
, as Dimitri had modestly named his yacht.

Roberto took the journey well. He was an extremely active, happy child, nothing seemed to upset him, and Lucky felt fortunate to have found someone like CeeCee to look after him. She was a pretty black girl of twenty, with a double helping of large white teeth, a ready grin, and tightly corn-rowed hair. Lucky had discovered her working as a waitress in a hamburger joint six weeks before she gave birth.

‘I’m
sooo
envious!’ the smiling girl had remarked, gazing at Lucky’s huge stomach while she served her forbidden french fries, a milk shake, and a large juicy burger. ‘I just love babies. I’ve got six younger brothers and sisters back in Jamaica, and I miss the little ones so.’

They got to talking, and before she knew it, Lucky had offered her the job and CeeCee accepted immediately.

Dimitri had been disapproving. He wanted a trained English nanny for his son, not some inexperienced Jamaican waitress. But Lucky always went with her gut instinct, and CeeCee had turned out to be a gem. She loved Roberto almost as much as they did.

It was Lucky’s first visit to
The Greek
, and it was huge. She had expected luxury, but the sheer opulence of it surpassed her expectations. A three-hundred-foot white palace with a full crew, eight magnificent staterooms each decorated by a different famous designer, an Art Deco cinema with black silk walls and state of the art equipment to show either videos or the latest movies, a gold and white mosaic swimming pool, numerous entertaining decks and areas.