Authors: Immodesty Blaize
‘Blue, are – are you okay? You’ve gone white!’
‘I’m, I’m fine,’ he stammered. ‘I just thought I saw a figure go past the window, that’s all.’
‘Oooh! Maybe it’s the ghost of Richie!’ Tiger sniggered. Blue wasn’t laughing.
‘Right! What’s going on!’
‘Lewis?’ gasped Tiger and Blue in unison as they turned to see him standing in the doorway, clad only in his silk dressing gown. Tiger’s eyes were instantly drawn to his toned, muscled calves.
‘Someone’s out there,’ insisted Lewis as Gravy started flinging himself at the window between barks. Lewis turned on his heel without another word, and returned a moment later wielding an axe.
‘What the—’ shrieked Tiger in horror. ‘Where on earth did that come from?’
‘I knew your stalker wouldn’t be able to stay away,’ declared Lewis, steely eyed. Unflicking the catch on the picture window he leapt out onto the patio, axe held aloft and dressing gown flapping behind him in a gust of wind.
‘Oh, Superman eat your heart out,’ murmured Tiger. As she turned to Blue he grabbed her and pulled her roughly away from the window and towards the back of the room, scattering dishes of rhinestones across the floor as he went.
‘Blue, what is wrong with you? Let go!’ giggled Tiger, perplexed as Blue positioned her behind her
chaise
, putting the scene of Joan Crawford throwing herself from her
wheelchair up there on the movie screen in Tiger’s full view. Blue had broken out in a sweat and his hands shook nervously.
‘What’s wrong, babe?’ asked Tiger.
‘Maybe you should keep your head down. I’m worried,’ warned Blue, edging back towards the window. ‘I think I know who might be out there.’
‘Look, I think you’re all over-reacting.’
‘No, I think I screwed up and said some things … look I think I may have given too much away to …’ A chilling scream pierced the night air.
‘Woah. I should call the police!’ said Tiger.
‘No!’ squealed Blue. ‘No, I think I know … I don’t think it’s anything to do with the threats, I think it might be R—’
‘Here’s your letter writer,’ boomed Lewis, appearing at the picture window with not so much as a Brylcreemed hair out of place, his arms tightly holding the wrists of a tracksuitclad figure.
‘You!’ gasped Tiger and Blue in unison.
Sienna beamed as the sales assistant passed over her purchases, all beautifully presented in sleek white expensive bags embossed with the distinctive Yves Saint Laurent logo.
‘Thank you, ma’am, enjoy your day.’ The store manager smiled as Sienna tottered towards the door. ‘And don’t worry, we’ll call you as soon as the python-skin shoes arrive in store,’ he added discreetly. Sienna felt a million bucks as she swept out of the shop, laden with her spoils She had decided that she would reward herself with a couture spree the second she got her promotion at Hunter Gatherers and claim some nice new trophies to mark her first official ascent up the professional ladder. She had even been jammy enough to con Rex into footing her retail therapy bill as a kind of ‘advance bonus’. The fact that she had managed to extract the pledge from him as he teetered on the brink of orgasm between her firm tits one night just went to prove how canny she was becoming.
Sienna hailed a black cab and sped towards the Ritz to meet Georgia for a lunch pit-stop. The pair had become inseparable buddies since St Tropez, and Sienna couldn’t understand why they hadn’t discovered each other sooner.
It was a fact they were a handsome couple and garnered stares and wolf-whistles wherever they went, what with a combined 136 inches of inside leg between them and a calculated gimmick of dressing like twins. They had truly found their match in each other; equally as ambitious, equally as cunning, and each nursing a perfectly healthy resentment of Tiger Starr. Sienna intended to reveal to Georgia later today her master plan for publicly exposing her sister as the ruthless liar and heartless bitch that she knew she was. Tiger’s fans deserved to know the truth, and Sienna deserved to find her nephew. She wanted to keep the impact of the big
dénouement
as a surprise for Rex when he opened the newspapers on the big day, so for the moment she was positively bursting with excitement to tell her new best friend about her ingenious plot.
Sienna scrabbled in her handbag for the precious three-hundred-year-old antique silver cocaine spoon with carved skull handle that Rex had given her after St Tropez, and she shovelled herself a little scoop of Colombian marching powder from the vial in her lipstick case. Holding an embroidered handkerchief daintily at her nose to conceal the tiny spoon, she sharply inhaled before sinking back into her seat and grinning from ear to ear as a blissful wave of confidence washed over her. This was the life. The cab swung up to the entrance of the Ritz and a handsome young doorman swooped to open the door with his shiny black leather-gloved hands. His dark eyes discreetly grazed over Sienna’s fabulous figure as she elegantly stepped
out of the cab and flung a crisp twenty through the driver’s window with an order to keep the change No more public transport for Ms Starr, she was well and truly in a new groove and she was staying.
‘Oh look over there! Guess who just went into the Ritz a second ago?’ said Honey Lou breathlessly as she pounded her way down Piccadilly arm in arm with Blanche.
‘I dunno. Brad Pitt?’
‘No, silly! Georgia!’ said Honey Lou. ‘Isn’t that just so glamorous? I mean, the Ritz for lunch!’
‘Huh. That girl’s up to something,’ grumbled Blanche. ‘How can she afford the Ritz on a chorus girl’s wage?’
‘Well … she usually has other means, doesn’t she.’
‘Hmm. You know what, Honey,’ drawled Blanche with a smirk, ‘you’re absolutely on the nail with that. There are some women who never pay their way in life, an’ she’s right up there leading the pack. It’s freeloaders like her who give the rest of us a bad name.’
‘I thought her and Lewis split up though?’
‘Exactly. But Georgia will always find some other mug to foot her bills.’
‘You don’t like her much, do you?’ said Honey Lou meekly as the girls turned the corner into a side street.
‘Does anyone? I just have a nasty feeling in my gut about her. She’s dodgy, alright. Her insincerity is embarrassing around anyone she thinks might give her something, and then in the dressing room? She’s—’
‘She’s a royal asshole.’
Blanche sucked her breath in dramatically.
‘Honey Lou Parker! That’s some dirty language coming from a lady! What would Pepper say?’
‘But Georgia
is
terrible! She’s so nasty to all of us when she’s in one of her “moods”. And have you heard the way she speaks to Tiger when she thinks no one’s listening? She’s so disrespectful. Two-faced. She’s quite happy to accept the wages Tiger pays.’
‘Yup.’
‘But it’s weird you know, it’s like Frankie’s under her spell. I think some of the girls are almost … frightened of her.’
‘Are you?’
‘Hmmm – no. Well, maybe. Just a bit at first, when I was new. But definitely not now. That kind of bitchiness and jealousy won’t get her anywhere. She just makes me laugh now.’
‘Good. Because if she does anything to you, you just come and get me, okay?’
‘Oh sure. I’m fine, don’t worry. I feel like one of you now anyway.’
‘Good. The Starrlets are a happy family and that’s the way we like it. We look after each other. And that’s why we have to look out for Tiger when we get to Vegas.’
‘Oh I think Tiger’s pretty fearsome. She wouldn’t take any shit from anyone. I think she just humours Georgia half the time for a quiet life.’
‘Well, let’s just say I just have this funny feeling about Georgia, like something’s in the air. That Prince Romano show was too weird. It was like Georgia had a hand in it somehow. You saw how she just stepped in … I could be wrong, but it was like she already had a little routine planned out … almost like she’d been expecting it, right?’
‘Yeah, that was weird now you mention it. But then she’s been itching to take Tiger’s place ever since I can remember.’
‘True. And you know what, something’s not been right with Tiger for a few months now.’
‘Well I wouldn’t know about that, I’m pretty new … but she does seem so – so
unhappy
at times. Can you believe that? She’s Tiger Starr! Ugh, that Georgia. How can anyone be so nasty to someone who’s just worked damn hard and done well for herself from nothing? And God knows Tiger’s helped
us
enough.’
‘Exactly. We gotta look out for her. We gotta look out for each other, girl.’ Blanche shuddered and grabbed Honey’s arm protectively as they strode their way across the road towards Soho.
The girls had become firm friends over the last few weeks, largely wanting to escape the increasingly neurotic atmosphere pervading the dressing room courtesy of Georgia Atlanta, but truly bonding after discovering a mutual love of Josephine Baker one night over a bottle of wine and a movie at Blanche’s tiny apartment. Once Blanche and Honey Lou had made their connection they
became thoroughly excitable about the idea of forming a 1930s-style duo together. They wanted to call themselves The Fabulous Baker Girls, and craft some amazing Josephine-inspired acts. Who knew, if they worked hard and did a good job, Tiger might even put them in one of her shows as a feature! She’d already been more than generous with her time and advice. But boy would it take some hard work to get the act together; being a Starrlet meant long, exhausting hours as it was, but both Blanche and Honey shared a good work ethic and believed that going the extra mile would always pay dividends.
Their first project was to devise an exquisite birdcage routine, inspired by Josephine Baker’s own incredible rendition of an exotic bird singing on its perch. But Blanche and Honey wanted to put their own unique stamp on it. They had decided they would mirror each other with one dressed in black feathers and plumes and one in white to reference the black and white silent movies of the time. They then wanted to commission a sparkling birdcage that would revolve slowly as it was suspended mid air, so that they could create beautiful synchronised poses hanging from the bars and swinging on their perch as they rotated. They were now making excellent use of a rare day off to nip into Soho for fabric samples and crystal-colour charts, in order to put together some first drafts for costume designs. They were determined to create something gorgeously fabulous that would show off everything they
had learnt with Tiger. Something to make her proud of them.
‘So what do you make of the day off then?’ asked Honey, breaking the silence.
‘Pepper said something about an incident at Tiger’s house last night,’ said Blanche. ‘Apparently Lewis is going to come and talk to us on Monday, like a regrouping kind of thing. Pepper used the word “morale”. I think she was referring to Tiger being distant recently, because she said that after last night everything would be back on track as a team, and right back to normal after the last couple of months.’
‘Blimey. Whatever happened last night must have been serious.’
‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough,’ sighed Blanche as they passed an
Evening Standard
seller on the street corner, waving his newspapers above his head. ‘We always get to hear the story one way or another,’ she added uneasily.
‘Your name’s not on the list. Sorry, madam, there’s nothing I can do.’
‘Starr. I can see it on your list, there,’ said Sienna jabbing the clipboard irritably.
‘I’m afraid Ms Starr arrived half an hour ago,’ said the tall blonde matter-of-factly.
‘I’m her sister,’ said Sienna, squaring her six-foot frame up to the blonde and staring her in the eye intimidatingly.
‘I’m sure you are,’ replied the blonde, looking Sienna up and down disbelievingly.
‘And this lady here is Georgia Atlanta,’ continued Sienna. ‘My
sister
, Tiger, assured me she had left both our names as her guests.’ Tiger had in fact called Sienna that very afternoon after lunch to invite her to Demimonde, the newly opened members’ club on Berkeley Square. She had a celebration planned which she wouldn’t reveal details of. Sienna had only just started taking Tiger’s calls again, and she demanded information on the phone before committing to the invitation, but Tiger insisted on them all simply meeting for a glass of champagne. Something about ‘getting things back to normal’. Intrigued, Sienna had accepted, on the condition she could bring her new best friend, Georgia. She wondered if this was going to be Tiger’s feeble attempt to apologise for making a move on Rex in St Tropez. Too little, too late, thought Sienna smugly; but there’s no harm in drinking the bitch’s champagne if she’s offering, is there?
‘Right, let me look at my list again,’ huffed the blonde, ‘Nope, sorry I can’t see – oh wait, actually I do have a plus 2 scribbled at the bottom here as it happens, but no names. Simple misunderstanding.’ The blonde nodded to the gorilla next to her and he unclipped the red velvet rope and motioned Sienna and Georgia within.
‘Thank you so much.’ Sienna smiled at the blonde, waiting until she was over the threshold before leaning in close and adding, ‘By the way, you could use a breath mint.’
As the girls entered the sleek, plush dark wood reception of Demimonde against an eerie collage of dark forties Weimar jazz which filtered through the walls, they were greeted by slim, chic hostesses in identical immaculate tuxedos, towering black stilettos, and finger-waved hair, Dietrich style. All very innocuous until it became apparent that half of them were in fact male. It was hard to tell. They all looked so beautiful. Beautiful make-up, beautiful hair, tall, lithe and androgynous. Trust Tiger to pick a place like this, thought Sienna. As she turned to Georgia, she caught her eyeing up a pretty blond boy with kohl-lined eyes and a beauty spot who whisked her coat away with his leather-gloved hand and a quick flutter of his long eyelashes.
The pair were ushered into the busy bar, which was decked out like an ancient French clip joint, with authentically ripped and aged flock wallpaper and hundreds of iron candle sticks that might have been bequeathed by Marie Antionette herself. The walls vibrated and the candle flames jolted with the incongruously deafening electro music which boomed and farted from concealed speakers in the velvet-covered ceiling. People were slinging back oysters and caviar at the booths as though they were on the
Titanic
, and little pots of snuff were being taken around on silver trays by the Dietrich army. The small dance floor was packed and sweaty.