Sex Crimes (28 page)

‘There’s no pill for this, Chez,’  she called after me.

I left the room in search of a nurse or someone. Anyone. And then I ran smack bang into Lola coming the other way with a bunch of roses.

‘Lola?’ I frowned.

She was the last person on the planet I expected to see.

‘It’s your baby, Chez and I couldn’t keep being such a selfish bitch,’ she gave a cool smile. ‘Congratulations, hey? A boy. What are you calling him?’

I gave her a hug and she stood on her toes and gave me a peck on the cheek.

‘William Chester McNaughton.’

It sounded quite magnificent when I said it out loud. My son. William Chester McNaughton.

***

3.

Lola Kelly

I was always a little bit afraid of Libby O’Neil. She had this aura about her like she really did have something special. Maybe it was star quality? I don’t know. But you could feel her presence, you know? Like, if you had your eyes shut and she walked into a room, real quiet, you’d still feel it. It would go right through you.

But when I saw her on the hospital bed that day, a drip running out of her tiny white hand, her dark hair a mess around her pretty face, she didn’t have that power any more. It was like someone had turned off the Libby light. She looked like a bird that had crashed into a window.

‘Hey, there Libby,’ I smiled and handed her the flowers.

‘That’s real nice of you,’ she smiled and let me kiss her cheek.

‘Congratulations. A boy. William,’ I pointed to the door, by way of explanation. ‘I bumped into Chester in the hallway.’

‘Yeah, William,’ she said flatly.

I sat on the hard chair beside the bed and saw that Chester’s folks had sent a huge, colourful boxed flower setting. It made my roses look a bit pathetic really.

‘So you guys are seeing each other now? That’s nice. Chester’s a good bloke,’ she said.

‘Yeah, he is,’ I nodded. ‘But Libby before he gets back, I wanted to ask you something. I know it’s a bad time but I just have to know the answer.’

‘Shoot,’ she said and lay her head back on the pillow and shut her eyes.

‘You know that complaint you made last year or whenever about Mr Luft?’ I began.

Her eyes snapped back open. I sure got her attention.

‘It was true, wasn’t it? He did ask you to blow him to get the role in the production, didn’t he?’ I asked, straight-forward, not beating around the bush, so to speak.

‘Why?’ she asked in a small voice.

‘Because he asked me to do the same so I’d get the part of Eva Peron in
Evita
.’ I gave it to her straight.

‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ she shrugged and smiled. ‘So did you blow him? Did you get the role?’

‘Did you?’ I asked the question back at her.

‘Who cares, really?’ she shrugged again. ‘Sex is just business. It’s just coin, you know what I mean. If you want the role, just do it.  That’s what it’s like in the real world.’

‘But you know what, Libby?’ I said, leaning forward. ‘I refused. I said no. But he didn’t like that answer and he held me down and raped me. He raped me. He stole my virginity!’

‘It’s got to happen sooner or later. Hope he used a rubber. You wouldn’t want to end up like me!’

‘What is wrong with you? Really, what is wrong with you Libby O’Neil?’ I hissed at her. I hadn’t come to congratulate her on having my boyfriend’s baby. I went to the hospital to abuse her. ‘You know why he raped me? Why he took what I was saving for Chester? Because he could! He told me that no-one would believe me if I told because you’d given him a free ride. You and your stupid bullshit. Accusing him and then taking it back and then the whole shit-fight with making false rape allegations about that rock-star. And stuff about how you were going to accuse Chester? You just made it so that no one is going to believe me if I come forward.’ I was crying by that stage. Tears, hot and salty. ‘Everyone will say I’m pulling a ‘Libby’. That’s what people call false rape claims now….pulling a ‘Libby’.’

I stood up, shaking. My face was hot and I had said my piece. It felt good to get it off my chest. I could only tell Libby O’Neil about this. No-one else would believe me but I knew
she
would because I just knew deep inside that she had suffered the same way. She got her role in
Chicago
but at what price? That was when Libby O’Neil changed. I had looked back and realised that the beginning of rehearsals for
Chicago
was when the sweet, cute little Libby O’Neil became this dark little Goth chick with attitude.

‘No-one else understands why you did what you did, Libby. Drugging that musician and doing those things to him.’ I reached out and held her small hand in mine.

‘But I understand. Luft hurt you too, didn’t he? Told you this was how the real world of theatre worked and that you should get used to it? You did it, didn’t you?’

I could see in her eyes, that I was spot-on. She looked scared. And something else but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

‘You wanted to lash out and hurt someone and Libby, I understand that. I understand
you.
And when you get out of hospital, I want us to take him on together.’

‘It would just turn into another circus,’ she said in a hoarse whisper. ‘There’s no point. You’re right. I messed it up. No-one would believe us….not now….’

Just then Chester came back with a nurse.

‘Okay, then. I’m going to ask the guests to leave. Libby here, needs some rest,’ the nurse said and shooed us out of the way. ‘I’ve got something here to help you, Libby but it’s not too strong because we’re going to try to get some milk for your little man soon, okay?’

Chester and I left, hand in hand.

He took me upstairs to see his son and I saw the tears in his eyes and heard the pride in his voice.

‘You’re going to be a great dad, Chez.’ I said, squeezing him close. ‘A really great dad.’

***

2.

Abigail Proudfoot

‘Look a little to the left and tilt you head down toward you shoulder,’ the photographer told me.

I was standing on Bronte Beach with the waves rolling in behind me. A crowd had gathered on the concrete walkway and they watched as the make-up lady dabbed some more bronze powder on my cleavage. I was wearing the most incredibly slinky blue, shimmering evening dress. Strapless and skin-tight. I had to hold my breath for the shots and take very shallow breaths between takes.

I looked like a mermaid, which was the whole point of the shoot at the beach. My hair had been highlighted so that I was blonde with white streaks and the hairstylist had it billowing around my face like spun gold.

This was my fourth booking in a week and the money they were paying me was astronomical. Mum was sticking it all in an account for me, paying me a little bit each week, and keeping the rest as an investment for when I turned eighteen.

I was modelling pretty much full-time now and the plans for the beauty school were shelved. Let’s face it, I’d rather be a famous model than a beautician. That was a no-brainer. Mum was acting as my agent and she totally rocked because she scored me a cameo role on
Neighbours
, playing myself! I was that frickin’ famous.

I sold my story about my torrid night with hotpants, Chris Bergin, to a major US magazine and we’ve been flooded with offers ever since. I’ve been asked to do guest spots in so many television shows, I was doing an interview for some magazine every week at least. I was taking four weeks off over Christmas to have my nose turned up just a little. Mum thinks it’s my only facial flaw. When I smile, my nose kind of crinkles to one side. The little bit of surgery will correct that.

I got a new boyfriend. He’s a chef….a celebrity chef… who has his own show. I met Dean when I was on the morning show that does all that sort of thing. I was being interviewed by some total bitch and he was really supportive. He’s twenty-eight but we’re like totally on the same wave length. He cooks incredible food but as I’m trying to lose a few pounds I have to be careful.

I soooo…. didn’t miss school and just knowing that I never have to go back, feels fantastic.

To be completely honest, while I knew that Libby O’Neil was one totally messed up bitch, if she hadn’t gone public with all that shit about Chris Bergin, none of this would have happened. I would just have been going back into Year Eleven next year for another dull year of school and a silly school production of
Rock of Ages
with that dickhead Luft groping at me all the time. Now I’ve really hit the big-time. I’m a somebody. I get recognised and people remember my name. Like that song from Fame. Remember. Remember. Remember my name. Fame. I’m gonna live forever….light up the sky with my name….or however it goes!

So yeah, I was living the dream. Sometimes I got hate mail from uptight Christian goody-goodies who told me I was a no good little slut. Hello? Have a look at all the Hollywood stars. All the rock chicks. Sex sells baby! And while I’ve got it, I’m gonna flaunt it.

As Mum says, sex is power. You can use it for good or evil. I guess in that way Libby and I are like the two witches in The Wizard of Oz. I’m like the pretty Glinda, the good witch. With my golden hair and shimmery dresses, waving my sex wand around making all the boys love me and all the girls want to be me. And then you’ve got Libby who is the bad witch. Green, probably from jealousy of me. And she’s got dark hair and always wears stripes. Hey, yeah. That
is
just like the bad witch, isn’t it? She’s got those black and white stripy tights or leg-ins. That is just totally us. And Libby’s waving her sex wand around to destroy people. Well, we all know how she ends up! Just a molten sludge on the floor!

Chris Bergin ended up being my ticket to fame. And I didn’t have all the baggage of the court cases that Libby’s was going to carry around forever. Nobody at all reckoned she’d go to jail. No-one even thought she’d be found guilty because of all that shit with her dad having an affair. Yeah, that got out. And boy did the author-wife cop some bad press.

Mr O’Neil having an affair with a teenage student?  That image is hilarious. I would never have thought the old goat would have it in him. Seriously, nobody wants to imagine their parents having sex. I’ve had the disturbing experience of walking in on my mother and some dude and I gotta tell you, it isn’t pretty!

One day, when all the stuff died down about Libby and Chris Bergin, I would have liked to sit down and ask Libby what the hell she’d been thinking. I never got why she boned Chester McNaughton. I just didn’t get that part of it.  Sometimes she could be such a Moon-cow. Was she jealous of me and Chris and wanted to act out, pretending in her fantasy world that Chester was Chris? I don’t know. Was she deliberately trying to get pregnant and if so how did she manage to pull that off first go? I’ve had heaps of scares and never once have I fallen. I’m on the pill but sometimes I forget.

Anyway, no-one even talks about Libby anymore. It’s like, it was such a huge big deal, until something else comes along and takes over.

I got a text that day on Bronte Beach, during my break. Apparently, Libby had had the baby. Oh my God, she was a mother! I am so not ready for that. I would like kids one day but not any day soon. For one thing babies totally destroy your body. That’s why my Mum only had one. She was like, no way, never again. And that’s sweet because I don’t think I’d like to share her with anyone else. Every time she gets married again, I hate it. She has terrible taste in men. They’re rich but that’s about it and while I sure as hell don’t want to end up with a loser, money isn’t everything. If he’s averagely wealthy, good-looking and kind and funny that’s fine. But I’ve told her, you know, no more husbands. Go out on dates, have boyfriends but we don’t need any more husbands in the house! Haha.

I didn’t really even want to see Libby’s baby. It would probably look like Chester. A baby that looks like Chester. I found that idea funny. Anyway, Libby hated my guts after I spilled all the dirt on her in court. But as Mum said, it’s every woman for herself out there and I was not going to cover her sorry arse and then get in trouble for it.

The truth was that she did not have sex with Chris. I did. She gave him a blowy while he was asleep and he woke up and he was kind of like…stop it and tried to push her away but he was too out of it. If that’s rape, which I think is stupid, but if that’s rape then I guess she’s guilty. If he was upset that I filmed some of it on my phone, then I’m sorry. I only did it because I was tipsy and Libby demanded that I do it. She was full on and insisted. I did go to the loo but for only a few minutes and there was no way anything happened because he was unconscious. He couldn’t have done anything and I knew that. Right from the start I kind of knew that. I wasn’t surprised when Libby finally fessed up to me.

I feel sorry for the guy’s wife and kid. He shouldn’t have invited us to his room, though. I was a girl on a mission and when I want a bloke, I get him. He was obviously tired and out of it but he did really dig me and he was totally up for a good time until he passed out.

Oh, did you know the band broke up? They did.
Drop Dead Gorgeous
is no more! They’ll never have to work again anyway because all their stuff went straight back up the charts when the scandal broke and you know that chick, his wife, well her books went through the roof with sales too. So I guess that will have helped with his legal bill. But they are super rich and so Chris and his family can live in their mountain hideaway and never worry about anything. Apparently his wife is writing a book about the whole sick business.

The band could have just kept going though, I reckon. This sort of shit blows over. Even Chris Brown kept going after everyone hated his guts for busting Rhianna’s face. Geez, even she forgave him.

I was just finishing up the shoot on the beach, sick of the sand in between my toes, when I saw Mum coming toward me and I noticed a lot of people talking among themselves. They were looking at their phones. Mine started ringing from my handbag near the make-up ladies little table. Mum looked idiotic running along in her heels and she was waving at me to get my attention.