Between The Lines Ch. 04

Well, I didn't have anything planned -- unless Davy suddenly got a burst of conscience and decided to call me back, so I stood up and said; "Alright then... one of you get my cases. Oh, by the way... I'll be riding up front." They didn't argue and, a few minutes later, we were travelling the seven miles or so down the A20 before we suddenly turned onto a side road and then into a very smart looking place with manicured lawns and terraces surrounding a large Georgian building.

The guy with the high voice stayed in the car while the other accompanied me into what turned out to be the reception area of some kind of medical facility. My escort went over to the desk and conducted a whispered conversation with the receptionist -- a hatchet-faced, middle-aged individual wearing a starched-white blouse and a haughty expression. I heard something about "No more than an hour," and a response of something like; "She's the one paying -- she'll decide how long," and, if anything, the woman looked even more disgruntled.

We found our way to the room my ex-wife was 'paying for' and, I must admit, I was impressed. As well as a large bed, there was stylish furniture a balcony (always handy in the English climate!) and - what was then still something of a novelty -- a flat-screen TV.

"I'm registered as Mrs Smith," said a voice from one of the very large armchairs, "and I'd prefer it if you call me Norah... just like you always did, Jack." That was no problem; I'd always thought that 'Daly' sounded like half a newspaper, so I took the other chair and found we were sitting so we could see the view of well-tended lawns, fields and a distant woodland. I told myself that it didn't remind me of anywhere I'd been before.

"You're looking well, Jack," she began, "that's a nice tan!"

"It's rust," I said automatically, nodding at the rain hitting the large window and drew a totally undeserved smile from her. "You're looking...."

"Don't bother, Jack!" she interrupted, "I know what I look like... and this is as good as it gets, I'm afraid." I was about to say something, but she held a hand up to silence me and I noticed that even such a slight movement made her wince with obvious pain. "I've got a lot to tell you and I've got to do it now, because I don't know if I'll get another chance."

Looking at her, I could well believe it. She was huddled in a dressing gown and appeared to have silk pyjamas beneath it. Her face was 'made up,' but she looked tired, haggard, and much older than her years. Her hands were those of someone much older than she was -- bony and heavily veined -- and I wasn't sure what to say for the best. This woman, as I well knew, was just a couple of years older than me but she looked as if she could have been my mother.

"My time's limited, Jack," she said, "So I'm asking you... please... to just sit there and listen. Okay?" I nodded, actually feeling quite relieved, and she began with:

"Let me take you back to when we first got together... shut up!" (She'd guessed I was about to say something) "Believe it or not, Jack, you were the first person I'd ever truly fallen in love with. I was 26 years old and you were probably the first man in many years who knew what colour my eyes were. Most of the blokes I'd met would've answered '34D!' I was totally smitten and, being completely honest about it, I've never felt that way since. I wanted you more than anything I'd ever wanted anything in my life and I set out to get you at all costs.

"You never had a chance, y'know," she smiled, "I had you into that registry office before you knew what was happening and I set out to do everything I could to make your life as good as it possibly could be. Every kind of sex you could think of, Jack... and then some! You remember?"

Well, yes... as it happens, I did. I'd had a fairly 'conservative' time with my first wife, and life with Norah had come as a real shock to the system. On our honeymoon (a long weekend in Brighton between gigs) she'd introduced me to a huge variety of positions and practices that I'd barely heard of, let alone tried! My joystick had felt like a shredded carrot at the end of it!

"I'd told you that I was a glamour model, and I also told you I was doing some 'skin flicks,' didn't I? Well... at that time, it was true. But I wanted more money, Jack. I wanted to be able to get a place of our own instead of that crumby flat we rented. Anyway, that's when I met Harold.

"Okay... I could probably whine and bitch about him getting me onto soft drugs... and then onto the harder stuff... but it was my own fault. I was dazzled by the money being offered. I thought if I did a couple of 'slightly' harder ones, I'd earn enough to give us a decent start... but it didn't work out like that. I was as high as fuck knows what when I did the first one. According to the script, I was only supposed to do a blow job and a 'tit fuck' with a couple of guys. But it all got out of hand and... well, I won't go into the details.

"Anyway, that was it. Harold said I was perfect, and when I tried to say 'no more,' he said he'd send you a copy of the first one. I couldn't face that. I carried on... using more and more drugs, mainly 'cocoa puffs;' that's a mix of marijuana and cocaine in a cigarette, Jack." I nodded because I already knew that. In fact, I knew a few people who favoured them.

"Well, eventually, Harold decided that he wanted exclusive rights to me... God knows why! I think he was afraid that I'd find some way of getting clean and talking you into taking me back. So, as I later found out, he sent Eric and Ernie...."

"You're joking!"

"No... those are their actual names, Jack," she smiled, "Anyway, he sent them to deliver that horrible video to you. Remember when you confronted me? I was shocked! I excused myself, if you remember, and went to the bathroom? Well, that was to take a hit. I thought it would help me to be calm, but it didn't work. In fact, from what I recall of the way I was that day, I'm not surprised you walked out. It's only because you're a gentleman that you didn't belt me one. I would have understood if you had."

"Look... this is all...." I began.

"I know, Jack... but it's leading up to other things. Let me tell it my way... okay?" I nodded and, after pausing to take a few obviously painful breaths, she went on;

"Once you were out of the picture, Harold took me to a clinic. I was there for three months... the worst time of my life... but I came out determined to start fresh... and to pay Harold back for what he'd done to me. I suppose I also had a vague hope that I might win you back some day... but that was never going to happen. I realised that eventually. I think I realised it when I asked you about a divorce and you were barely civil to me.

"So, after another few months, I told Harold I was finished with movie-making. I told him I'd stay with him... and I wouldn't shop him for all the illegal stuff I knew about... as long as he made it worth my while. He tried to laugh it off, but I'd gathered enough proof to have him sent away for a very long time and put it in a very safe place; y'know, the usual thing... if anything happened to me...?

"Well, I won't go over all the grubby details but, a year or two later, Harold and Norah Smith sold up and moved into a very early retirement. By that time it was all in our joint names and we lived well in the Cayman Islands. There were times when I thought I might lose my grip on him... he had a lot of affairs with younger women... but I fixed that and got my revenge at the same time."

She stopped then and took something from the small table beside her; a painkiller I'd guess, then she said:

"Prepare to be shocked, Jack... I killed him!

"Oh, I don't mean I shot him, or knifed him or anything like that. Oh, No... females can be much more devious than that... and much more vicious than any male. No... what I did was to hire a new maid. She was from East Africa and she didn't speak very much English. She had two important qualifications, though... she had the most enormous pair of tits... and she was HIV positive!

"I went off to visit some old friends in Florida shortly afterwards and left him to it. I never said a word when I came back, but I told him that I'd had a recurrence of the herpes I'd had a few years earlier, so I couldn't have sex with him for a while. He didn't seem to mind; but he wouldn't, would he? He was fucking our busty maid!

"Anyway... it took quite a while, but it worked. By the time he found out what he had it was already far too late."

She was right, I was shocked. There wasn't any cure, or even much hope, for aids sufferers in those days and a lot of people died as a result of it. Usually it was from contracting something else, but it was the aids that left them unable to fight anything.

"So... if there's a Hell... then I'm on my way there, Jack. I really am. But I don't believe in all that crap anyway... and I've no regrets. Harold Smith was a piece of slime and I watched him die without feeling a trace of remorse. In fact, by the time of his cremation, everything had been legally transferred to me and I was a very, very rich woman.

"Unfortunately, that's when I think the past started to catch up with me. I'd been feeling poorly for a long time but, when you've had things like syphilis, gonorrhoea and herpes you don't always expect to feel like a spring chicken any more, y'know? So I ignored it. Bad mistake! By the time the cancer was diagnosed it was way too late... it had spread beyond any hope of a cure.

"Like my hair, Jack?" she said, suddenly changing the subject and catching me completely off guard as she whipped off what I hadn't realised was a wig and revealed a perfectly bald head!

"The last course of treatment," she smiled, "there won't be any more... there's no point. I've told people that it's aids-related. It isn't, but every time I say it, it just feels like I'm driving a stake through Harold's black fucking heart, somehow!"

I just stared and felt my stomach turn over. All of a sudden I remembered the young woman I'd met all those years ago. I remembered her being so full of life and energy, always ready to laugh at my jokes, always loving and caring about everything I said and did. She'd been beautiful, then -- and I'd been so proud to be her chosen husband. I could feel a prickling at the corners of my eyes, but she obviously noticed and said:

"No, Jack... no tears; not now. There's no time. I've still got such a lot to tell you...."

**

10.

The rain had stopped by the time I emerged from the clinic. The 'hour' had stretched to a lot more, but only because she'd agreed to let the staff lift her back into her bed so she could lie down while we talked. She'd asked me to hold her hand until she fell asleep and I couldn't have said no to that, but I was shaken by all she'd told me.

In particular, she'd told me about the day a new recruit had been introduced to everyone on the set -- a beautiful girl whose name, Millie von Koch, was clearly as false as Daly Cummings. According to Norah, all the blokes there had fallen for her immediately. Norah had taken her off to a quiet place to discuss the scene they were about to do and asked if the girl was okay with it. She was; in fact Millie told her that it was only lesbian scenes she was prepared to do. It was Norah who wasn't happy because she was definitely not into sex with other women and was very nervous.

As they'd discussed it, Norah had realised that the young woman was both naïve and very determined to be successful -- there was something vague about issues with her parents -- but Norah found herself really liking the 'kid.' They did the scene in a single take -- all acted and with minimal actual contact -- and it was clear the youngster had more talent than the entire collective cast of the movie. Harold, of course, had been very quick to spot it.

He'd started turning on the charm and asked her if she wanted to try a 'spliff' to help her relax for another girl-girl scene that he wanted to add. Norah spotted that it was, in reality, a 'cocoa puff' and realised the girl was about to be drawn into doing things she really didn't want to. She'd pretended to be really jealous of the new talent and warned Harold that if Millie took a single drag of the cigarette, she'd take it off her and stub it out in his eye.

So, to keep his principal happy, he'd changed tack, asking the girl to pose as if she was giving someone a blow job. The girl was reluctant but, when it was explained that the guy's cock wouldn't actually be in her mouth; that it would just look as if it was due to the camera angle, she agreed to try it. So Norah had a quick word with the guy who was going to do it and, when the time came, 'Millie' was told to close her eyes and look as if she was enjoying it. And then, as soon as she opened her mouth a little, the man had grabbed the back of her head and shoved his cock into her mouth. For about two seconds, the girl had been too shocked to react but, when she did, it was by biting down hard; hard enough to draw blood!

All hell had broken loose and, by the time things settled down, the girl had gone. Norah swore that she hadn't seen her since then until the fateful Sunday when I'd inadvertently drawn her into our orbit again.

"You're looking pale under that tan," one of the men in the car told me, "D'you want a piece of paper to practise your fuckin' origami... I looked it up, by the way," but I didn't respond. I was still in a state of complete shock. All of the information I'd been given was still buzzing around in my tormented mind -- especially the final revelation!

It was as she was beginning to weaken and drift off to sleep. She'd said something about the clinic and how well they were looking after her -- even if it cost a small fortune - and I'd made some gentle crack about wondering how she managed it on a widow's pension and her eyes had opened wide.

"Oh, my God! I haven't told you, have I? My fucking mind's going, Jack," she said and then, after a short pause, "I'm not a widow. I never actually married Harold!

"I mean, he asked me any number of times to begin with but I kept putting him off and he stopped bothering about it eventually. It was only when he was dying -- literally on his death bed and asking me to marry him -- that I told him the truth. I told him I wouldn't because you were the only man I'd ever loved, Jack.

"Yes... it's true. I never stopped loving you. I had sex -- all kinds of sex -- with all kinds of men. But that was exactly what it was; sex and nothing more. You were the one who always had my heart... and that can't change now, can it? I told him that I loathed him for what he'd done to me... and to others as well.

"And I also told him the biggest secret of them all, Jack. I told him that the money he'd paid me to get a divorce had been spent on other things... that I never did go through with it.

"I married you when you were still Bert Smith... remember? And I've been your loving wife ever since. You'd have found out if you'd wanted to get married again, but you never did. So I carried on being 'Mrs Smith' and let everyone believe I was married to Harold. But I never was, Jack. I was married to you and I've managed to stay that way... Till death do us part, Jack... till death!"

**