Vintage Love (287 page)

Nita remained in her cabin. Through the open porthole she heard cars arrive and the voices of the others as they boarded the craft. Tommy Gallegher’s rough-edged voice was louder than any of the others as he barked out order.

She remained in her tiny cabin, unable to face the others yet. The yacht put out to sea and she had her evening meal brought down to her. Jack Steel came to see how she was but staye donly a short time.

Then Richard Wright came to sit and talk with her for a little. He said, “You’ll have to get over this. Maybe it was best, after all.”

“How can you say that?” she demanded in rage.

He shrugged. “Suppose Eric had failed you as a husband.”

“He wouldn’t have!”

“It would have been all right at first,” the man across from her said smoothly. “But be realistic. He had strong ties among the underground community in Hollywood. I think he would sooner or later have been drawn back.”

“Like you?”

Richard stated, “I’ve never left it.”

“He was also your lover.”

“Yes.”

“Would you have tried to take him away from me?”

“I don’t know,” the young man said. “I’m your agent because Eric wanted it. And I happen to be fond of you as well.”

“Not as Eric was.”

“Not as Eric was,” he agreed. “But I can supply a lot of things for which you might have looked to him. I can be your escort, your advisor, and I’m already your business manager.”

Nita looked up at him. “You should hate me for coming between you.”

Richard stood with his back to her as he gazed out the porthole. “I did for a while.”

“But that’s over?”

Richard turned to her. “Of course! We’re partners now. As your agent I must do my best for you.”

She stared at him. “You’ve always been a mystery to me — and to many other people.”

“How so?”

“You live well and dress well. How have you managed?”

“I’ve managed and I will,” he told her. “You are my first agency client. I intend to build up a list until I’m making all the money I need.”

“That doesn’t explain the past or now,” she persisted.

“No need for you to worry,” he told her. “You’re looking better already.” And he went back above without answering her question.

The evening wore on and turned into night. The yacht began to sway more as they moved out into rougher waters. As darkness came it brought with it thoughts of death, and of Eric lost in that great black void, lost to her as Marty had been lost to her.

For all the triumph Hollywood had brought her she had paid a bitter price. And she had seen others pay for their faith in the celluloid dream, Thelma Stone among them.

At last she could not stand being alone in the cabin any longer. She made her way along the narrow corridor to the steps leading above and emerged on the fore deck. She walked to the bow and stood clinging to the railing as the yacht nosed forward amid the heavy waves. Its slight heaving made the stars seem to tilt in rhythm to the yacht’s movements. She clung to the rail and stared into the darkness ahead.

From aft there came the sounds of revelry in the lounge. Nita knew that this room which served as dining hall and common room was surely the scene of another drunken orgy, and prayed that she would not be bothered by any of them while she remained out there alone with her sorrow.

All at once she was aware of someone coming up behind her. She turned and saw that it was Tommy Gallegher. The big man was casually dressed in trousers and shirt which seemed to be what he usually wore. He came and stood beside her. There was liquor on his breath but he was not drunk.

He said, “You don’t want to join the others?”

“No.”

“You’re missing something,” he said. “Your friend, Richard, is making a play for William Desmond Taylor. Mabel Normand is furious!”

“I’d rather not hear about it,” she said.

“Sure.” He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I know what it’s like.”

She glanced at him. “What?”

“Death,” he said. “Maybe I’m the big ape you think. But I’ve looked into the face of death more than once.”

“Have you?” she said, trying to be sarcastic but failing.

“My brother died on this ship.”

This caught her attention. She stared at him. “How?”

“Shot down,” the big man said in a casual tone. “This is no pleasure yacht. It’s a rum-runner!”

“You’d never think it!”

“We’re on our way now to pick up a load,” he assured her. “When we take on the cargo we’ll sail back to port.”

“And your brother was shot down defending the ship from the coast patrol?”

“From hijackers,” Gallegher said. “They’re all along the coast. Wolf ships looking for easy marks. They’ve never found me an easy mark!”

“I’m sure they haven’t,” she said.

“My brother was up above, fighting off a pirate trying to board us. A stray shot got him before the pirate retreated under our fire. There are cannon hidden along the deck, ready to use. I left my place down here and went up to him. He was bleeding bad. He looked up at me and smiled and then he coughed up some blood and he died. Died with me holding him!”

She was studying him. “You can’t forget it, can you?”

“I’m a stupid Irishman. Why should I feel anything?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But you gave me that impression yourself.”

“So I’m no gentlemen,” he said. “And I play rough. I have no time to play games like your Hollywood friends. I’ve got my own date.”

“Your own date?”

“With death!” he said almost angrily. “Death that frightens you so much! I’m overdue now. One night I’ll get it and you know what?”

“Go on,” she said.

“It’ll just be another ape out of the way. No one will care. Another gang will take over this boat and my load of booze!”

“You don’t really believe that?”

“Maybe my mother will shed a tear, and my sister, Mamie,” he said. “But there’s money put by for them. They’ll say a mass and forget me. And so they should.”

She shook her head. “Your Irish gloom helps me, oddly enough.”

The big man put an arm around her and said earnestly, “We don’t look alike and we don’t talk alike. But we’re the same sort of mad Micks! If we’d met somewhere else we’d have got along better.”

The warmth and shelter of his arms made her press against him and sob, “What has happened to me?”

“You’re lost in the damned Hollywood bog!” he said with fury. “And so am I, in my own way!”

“What will happen to us?” she moaned.

“We’ll go our way and we’ll do what we mean to do and in the end we’ll maybe be lost like the others. But ill-matched as we are, we speak the same brogue!”

She looked up into his rough hewn face in wonder. She had not expected this understanding from Tommy. But she knew he spoke the truth and he was the only one on board who could help her in her grief.

Phillip had been shocked by the Irishman and had deserted her. But Tommy Gallegher satisfied an inner need in her at this awful time. It was as if the folk back in Lynn were reaching out and offering their clumsy sympathies and joining her in her lone wake.

Tommy held her close and told her, “If I hadn’t spoiled it all I could have told you I loved you. And you might have seen something besides the ape in me!”

“You’re near, I need you,” she said. “Don’t talk!”

The big Irishman let his lips caress hers, and all at once there was a passionate explosion between them. He held her tightly to him and she responded, clinging to him as he lifted her in his arms and carried her down to her cabin.

Nita was nude and ready as soon as he was, and when he pressed his great, manly body to hers she lost herself in the comfort of his embrace. He caressed her gently and murmured low words she did not hear or even care about. Their union was as rewarding and joyous as her grief and despair had been a short while ago.

Their love making went on until they were both exhausted. Then they lay naked and breathing heavily and let the ecstasy they had known withdraw slowly, leaving them facing reality again.

She stared up at the cabin ceiling and in a dull voice said, “You wanted. Now you’ve had me.”

Tommy leaned on his elbow and gazed down at her. “It was no conquest! I wanted to give you something! Irish comfort, if you like. It’s the only sort most of my people ever knew!”

Nita smiled up at him gently. “Irish comfort! I like that! Is that what you really wanted to do? Help me?”

“God strike me if I’ve lied!”

She reached up and stroked his cheek. “I believe you. And I thank you.”

“I’ve served me purpose, I’ll be moving on,” he said almost gruffly, and quickly dressed.

She watched him from her tiny bed. “I think I know you better now, Tommy Gallegher,” she said.

He stood over her, fully clothed. His face stern, he said, “You need not fear there will be any word of this said. What happened was between us alone.”

“The Irish in exile,” she said. “Thank you.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then turned and made his way out. She pulled the bedclothes up over her naked body and closed her eyes. She knew now that she could manage. She would go on.

Her love making with Tommy had not dissolved the bond between herself and her lost love, Eric. In away it had been a celebration of life in the face of death. And it had given her the strength she needed. Two of the lost Irish had reached out to comfort one another in the darkness of the night.

Next morning Nita came up on deck for a stroll after breakfast and was almost immediately greeted by a dapper William Desmond Taylor in blue blazer and white flannels. He studied her with a quizzical smile.

“You look much better already,” he said. “The voyage seems to be doing you good.”

“I feel better,” she said, wondering if Taylor guessed that Gallegher had visited her cabin.

“We saw little of you last night.”

“I preferred to keep to myself,” she said.

His eyes held a taunting gleam. “It seems to have agreed with you.”

Her urge was to get away from the slim, older man but he had managed to position himself between her and the only route of escape along the narrow deck.

To change the subject, she asked, “Have you any idea where we are bound?”

“Only Gallegher knows that,” Taylor said. “And he won’t tell us. But I’d judge we are at least twenty miles offshore.”

“I could be a thousand since you can see no sign of land,” she said, gazing out across the water.

“I imagine he has a rendezvous with some craft loaded with liquor,” Taylor said. ‘Then he’ll head back to Los Angeles.”

Richard Wright joined them. “Good to see youa round again,” he said to Nita.

“I’m in a better frame of mind,” she said.

Taylor eyed them with grim amusement. “I know you two have private matters to discuss so I won’t remain to eavesdrop.” With that he walked on to the bow of the ship where Mabel Normand, Mary Miles Minter and Tommy’s starlet were all stretched out sunning in deck chairs.

Nita looked after the director. “I don’t like him! He’s a poisonous type.”

“Sly and clever,” Richard Wright said. “Not a good person to do business with.”

“I’d imagine not,” she said angrily. “I can’t think why someone as bright as Mabel Normand lets him rule her so.”

“She’s infatuated with him, my dear,” Richard said in his extravagant fashion.

“Have you heard any further word about Eric?” she asked.

“I have a report from the wireless operator. He picked up some news from the press agency. Eric’s body is being returned to Los Angeles for a public funeral on Saturday. The casket will be closed and Barbara is arranging a memorial service. The chief speaker will be Thomas Meighan.”

“That’s a good choice,” she said. “They always got along well.”

“The papers must be full of the tragedy. They expect a great crowd at the funeral.”

Nita stared out at the ocean. “I’m glad I won’t be there. Eric and I had great happiness together. Now it’s over. One has to accept that.”

Richard studied her in wonder. “You’ve changed a great deal since yesterday. You’ve found your strength again.”

She turned to him and nodded wordlessly.

“And be sure Lew Meyers will want to push you. Eric’s death will make the Von Eltz film all the bigger! And you played opposite him in it, so it will help your career.”

“Do you think this will establish me as a star?”

“It’s bound to,” Richard said. “And when option time comes around, I’ll be able to get you much more money.”

“Just be careful of the type of films Meyers wants me to do,” she said. “The wrong vehicles could harm me.”

“I’ll be careful,” Richard promised.

Later she met Tommy Gallegher and the starlet on deck. The starlet was wearing the tiniest bathing suit possible and Tommy was paying his usual attentions to her. As they passed Nita, he gave her a brief, meaningful look and then returned to the pert redhead on his arm.

As they sailed on she became familiar with Gallegher’s way of managing things. He paid no attention to her at all and when he wasn’t involved with the starlet, spent his time chatting casually with the other women or Taylor. He was determined that no one would guess that for a brief moment they had been lovers.

By the end of the fifth day Nita was beginning to be weary of the confinement of the sleek yacht. And then just at dusk the excitement began.

The lights of a tramp steamer showed on the horizon. Tommy Gallegher alerted his crew and they lined up on deck, waiting.

He ordered his guests, “I ask you to keep out of the way until our business is finished.”

“Not very hospitable!” Mabel Normand said with disdain as he walked away.

Taylor gave her a dark look. “You talk too much, Mabel. It is going to get you in trouble one day.”

“And I’ve plenty to tell,” she snapped back. But she joined the others on the side of the yacht away from Gallegher and his crew.

As the tramp steamer came close Richard Wright smiled at Nita and drawled, “This is where we take on merchandise.”

“You think so?”

“Sure,” he said. “That’s how it’s done. The steamer probably supplies a half-dozen operators like Gallegher and then goes back for further supplies. This one probably came down the coast from Canada.”