Valley of the Dolls (60 page)

“They’re new in the business, Anne. Everyone’s watching them. George never was a live wire. Oh, he’s a hell of a businessman, but Lyon is the personality boy. And there will always be a Neely or some star to wet-nurse. You might as well face up to it.”

“You mean I go through life like this?”

“It gets easier as time goes along,” he said.

“Not for me it won’t!”

He was silent for a moment, then he said, “Anne, you can’t have everything. I’ve seen your apartment. A layout like that costs money. And Lyon is one of those guys who must pay his own way.”

“But Henry—why doesn’t he ask me to join him in London?”

Henry studied his cuticle. “You’ve never been abroad, Anne. Perhaps he feels he’d like to be able to show you around. But he’s trapped in the theatre all the time. It wouldn’t be much fun for you hanging around like that.”

“If he explained it that way I’d understand. And I’d go along with it. I could sightsee . . . catch other shows. As long as I saw him a little.”

“Let it be. He should return any day now.”

“He’ll be back in a week. But then what? Who knows where Neely will be booked by then? And off he’ll go.”

“Take each problem as it comes,” Henry suggested.

Lyon returned ten days later. But he could only stay a week. Neely was going to make a picture in Europe. It would be shot in France and Italy with a top cast, “She’s not making a fortune out of it,” he explained, “but it will prove to Hollywood and television that she’s reliable, because I intend to see that the picture is brought in ahead of schedule.”

“Lyon, take me with you,” she said suddenly.

“Wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Neely can be a monster, you know. Her success in London was staggering. You don’t know what it’s like when you make it over there. They have a loyalty that’s unbelievable. They shout her name when she walks down the street and they queue up for hours just to catch a glimpse of her. Two guys from the Johnson Harris office flew over with a big television offer. Everyone is trying to grab her. And all this is getting to her.”

“But she has to have loyalty to you and George—you rescued her.”

“She’s also paid off every cent she owes, to you and to the office. She’s making money—and she’s making
us
money. The shoe seems to be on the other foot. She thinks we ought to be grateful to her.”

“But what’s that got to do with my coming over?”

“It would be a distraction. Neely would resent it.”

“Neely would resent it! I’m your wife. And I’m her best friend. How could she resent me?”

“She’s a power again, and she knows it. Don’t forget, she allowed Joey Kling to share the bill, and we’ve gotten Joey a big TV deal for next season out of it. The package will go for a hundred and fifty thousand a week, and we represent that package. That’s fifteen thousand a week for thirty-nine weeks. And Neely was directly responsible for it. Next year we’ll get Neely a special—once a month, for two hundred thousand each. So right now everything revolves around Neely. If you are there, naturally I’ll be splitting my time. I’d want to show you Paris, Rome—I’d want to be with you. I would neglect Neely. Please, my darling, bear with me. In another year I shall be able to pay back your loan in the business. But for the moment, Neely is still the backbone of The Three B’s and must be handled with care.”

“But I’m sure Neely wouldn’t resent me. She was the one who told me I could leave the baby and travel.”

“Neely is . . . well, she’s different now. All she thinks about is Neely. You’ve got to understand that, Anne. You were never close to her when she was doing well. She always came running to you when things went wrong. She was human then—now she’s impossible. I have to watch her every second to keep her from alienating people, to make sure she reports on time. She’s regained her feeling of power. She’s even started with the tantrums again. Luckily I can control them, and let’s hope it keeps that way. But I must devote all my time to her.”

The next three months were impossible for Anne. She spent so much time with little Jennifer that the nurse felt idle and complained. Reports kept coming in about Neely’s fantastic success abroad. Lyon wrote sporadically and phoned once a week. The picture was going great, although they had had to reshoot the beginning because Neely had lost so much weight. He’d be home the end of June. Then a week passed without any word at all.

She placed a transatlantic call on July fourth. The operator at the George V announced he had checked out exactly a week ago. No, no forwarding address. She believed he had returned to the States. Yes, Miss O’Hara had checked out at the same time.

She was dumbstruck. Could he have come back by boat? But why, if he was eager to see her and the baby? She called George. He sounded evasive. Yes, Lyon and Neely were due back; no, he had not heard from them in five days.

That night she lay in bed and tried to watch television. Nothing held her interest. She finally turned off the set and settled down with the morning papers. Suddenly an item in one of the columns stood out like a neon sign:

What legendary singing star who has made a phenomenal comeback attributes it, along with her shapely new figure, to her new love? But the star’s love story may not have a happy ending. Her love is her manager, who is very much married to a television beauty.

Her stomach lurched. It couldn’t be! But Lyon
had
said that Neely had dropped a lot of weight. She felt that she was going to be sick—or faint. Wait, she told herself. All right, maybe Neely has fallen for Lyon. That’s not hard. But it doesn’t necessarily mean Lyon cares about Neely. Lyon might be holding her at arm’s length. Perhaps he realized all along that this would happen. That would account for his reluctance to have her join him in Europe. He might be trying to protect her. It might be that Lyon was having a dreadful time. . . . But where was he now?

She reached for the phone and on an impulse placed a person-to-person call to the Beverly Hills Hotel in California. She prayed she was wrong. She got the operator at the other end. Yes, Mr. Lyon Burke was registered—he had checked in three days ago. No, he was not in. Yes, Miss O’Hara was also registered. Her room did not answer. It was only nine o’clock in California—did the party wish to try later? Anne canceled the call and fell back against the pillows. He had been in California three days! He hadn’t phoned! She threw on some slacks and rushed out into the night.

Henry took ages to answer the door. “Jesus, what’s up?” he said sleepily. He tied the sash of his robe and led her into the living room. Switching on the lights, he motioned toward a chair. “Sit down. What’s the matter?”

Anne was hysterical. “You saw it!” She pointed to the morning papers on the floor. “Henry, don’t play dumb with me. I just found out Lyon has been back for several days. He’s in California with Neely. He hasn’t even called me.”

“Let’s have a drink,” Henry suggested.

“Henry . . . help me!” She sank into a chair and began to sob.

He calmly mixed a Scotch and brought it to her. “Now let’s cut the hysteria and face facts. You want to save your marriage, don’t you?”

“Then you believe it too!”

“Of course. I’ve known it for some time.”

She couldn’t speak. She stared at him as if the last friend in the world had betrayed her.

“Now grow up,” he said. “This was in the cards. You have several alternatives. One, you can walk out with your pride intact. Or two, if you want him badly enough and have enough guts, you can ride it out and get him back.”

“I can’t live without Lyon,” she sobbed.

“Then start getting some control. Make scenes with him and you throw him right into Neely’s arms.”

“But she’s fat as a pig. He can’t care for her.”

“Not any more.” His voice was weary. “I just got back from the Coast last night. I ran into Neely and Lyon at Chasens. She looks marvelous. She barely weighs a hundred pounds.”

“Neely?”

“Love can do it, I guess. She dropped about ten pounds in Los Angeles on her first trip, maybe ten more in Frisco and Washington, and the three months in Europe did the trick. She doesn’t eat a thing. I watched her. She looks like she’ll go up in smoke any second. But she’s insane about Lyon. She doesn’t take her eyes off him—clings to him every second. . . .”

Anne buried her face in her hands. “Henry, stop it! What are you trying to do—kill me?”

“No, I’m trying to give you the truth. Once you know the facts, maybe you’ll know how to fight. Surprise could defeat you. So you might as well have it straight. Now—grit your teeth. This is really the bonecrusher—Lyon is not exactly fighting her off.”

“No . . . no . . .” It was a wail.

“Now stop the hysterics and let’s figure out a plan.”

She looked at him in total disbelief. “Henry, you must be mad! It’s finished—over.”

He shrugged. “Fine. I’ll handle the divorce for you. Lyon will have to pay plenty of alimony, and child support. I’m sure he’ll agree to everything.”

She began to sob more violently. “No . . . no . . . I won’t give him up.”

“Then pull yourself together. Drink your drink and let’s figure this out. You’re not the first girl whose husband balled around, and you won’t be the last. You just have to figure out what means the most to you, Lyon or your pride.”

“But it could never be the same.”

“No, it won’t. Some of the stardust will be gone. But you’ll have him. And if I know you as well as I think I do, a little of Lyon is better than no Lyon at all.”

“Henry, how could he respect me if he knew I accepted this?”

“That’s just it,” he said impatiently. “He must never
know
you know. If he did you’d
have
to ask for your freedom. That’s just what Neely’s gunning for. Look . . . Lyon entered into this innocently. You must realize that. But it’s pretty heady stuff, being a Svengali, and the timing was right. Lyon needed something like this for his ego. He’s a creative guy, Anne. He feels you sold him down the drain creatively and tricked him into this new career. Which is bullshit—if he really had it, no one could stop it. But now he’s creating again. From a large mass of blubber he’s etched a slim, vibrant star, a star who seems to depend on him for the very air she breathes. He’s not just a manager now, he’s a creator. He feels larger than life. It’s a great feeling of power. No man can resist it. And Neely plays into his hands by acting helpless. She’s as helpless as a cobra, but that’s not the way it appears to him. To Lyon you’re the strong one, the tycoon—
his
Svengali. Actually, Anne, you’re not half as strong as Neely—the Neelys of this world are indestructible—but with your poise and self-confidence you make Lyon feel less a man than Neely does. He probably feels that you castrated him—and not once, but twice. The first time when you refused to give up a city for him, and now by buying him an agency.”

“If you only hadn’t told Neely,” she moaned.

“It was the end of December. You and Lyon were happy, and Neely was your best friend—or so I thought. She came to me because she knew you listened to me. She wanted me to convince you to travel after the baby was born. She sobbed, swore she wouldn’t go without Lyon, carried on. . . . She said you wouldn’t listen to reason because you were a millionaire and didn’t give a damn about the agency, that you probably wanted Lyon to retire. So I explained she had the picture all wrong, that it was
your
money at stake. After all, I was going to have to tell Lyon in a short time anyway. How did I know Neely of all people would use it against you? Christ, do you know how many times she’s told me she owed her whole life to you?
You
got her put back in
Hit the Sky
by having Lyon intercede.
You
talked to Gil Case about her replacing Terry King.
You
paid the freight for her at Haven Manor. I never thought of Neely as a girl who would turn against you, let alone as a rival for Lyon. It was a big mistake on my part, but done with the best of intentions. And now the thing for you to do is face facts. With you Lyon didn’t feel like a big man—then Neely came along and built him to new heights. You’ll just have to wait till it levels out.”

“How?” she begged.

“By sitting tight. Stop playing God and be a woman for a while. Let the cobra in Neely come out. Lyon’s no fool.” He paused. “You know, this thing with you and Lyon—it was wrong from the start. But you wanted him. All right, you’ve got him. And you’ve gone through too much to throw in the sponge now. Your cue is to act as if nothing has happened. It’s not going to be easy—in fact, it may be almost impossible at times, because this thing with Neely will get hotter before it cools down. But if you can hold out the cycle will reverse itself. And he’s got to wind up hating her. She’ll castrate him—she does that to all men. You ought to hear Ted Casablanca sound off on her. She’s all syrup and softness in the beginning, but like all stars, she’s solid steel underneath. In time, if you can ride with the punches, you’ll wind up as the soft female he has wronged, and he’ll feel protective and guilty about you. The marriage will be bruised a bit, and you may not even want him by then—but if you do you’ll have him. It’s going to be a battle of nerves, but I think you can do it.”

“I’ll try,” she said wearily. “Henry . . . my world’s just collapsed. I think tonight I may take my first doll.”

“A what?”

“A Seconal.” She smiled faintly. “Jennifer and Neely called them dolls. I’ve never taken one in my life, but I think I’ve earned one tonight. I wonder where I could get some.”

He went to his medicine cabinet and returned with a bottle. “Here . . . there’s a two-month’s supply. I just took one out for myself.”

She smiled faintly. “You too?”

“For twenty years. It’s standard equipment for this business. Take one and get into bed. Don’t smoke. If you’ve never taken one before it will act quickly.”

She took the bottle and left. Her legs felt leaden, and during the cab ride unwelcome pictures of Neely and Lyon flashed through her mind.

At home she stood in the bathroom and stared at the bottle for some time. It was packed with gleaming red capsules. She took them out and counted them. Sixty-five. Henry certainly trusted her. Well, why not? She wasn’t about to throw in the towel. She had a child who needed her and a husband she had to get back. All she wanted was a few hours of escape, a few hours to blot out this nightmare that had suddenly erupted. She swallowed one of the capsules. “All right, little doll. Let’s see what all the shouting is about.” She got into bed and picked up the papers she had tossed on the floor. She began to read. In ten minutes the print began to blur. It was fantastic . . . her head grew light. . . her eyes closed. . . . It
was
a doll . . . she was going to sleep. Tomorrow she’d think it all out.