THEY STOOD there, side by side on the red carpet that had been laid across the sidewalk, smiling at the flashbulbs, their names in huge letters above them on the illuminated front of the theater. Behind the red velvet ropes, the crowd was cheering and calling to them, while the searchlights panned and swerved across the sky.
Diane was in an ice blue strapless satin dress designed for the occasion by Edith Head. A white mink stole fell loosely around her shoulders and ten thousand dollars' worth of diamonds—courtesy of Marcel of Beverly Hills, for one night only—sparkled above her already famous cleavage. Ray had his arm around her waist and as they waved one last time and turned and walked regally into the foyer, keeping up this fine charade of marital and professional bliss, it occurred to him that this was the first time he'd had his hands on her, except in anger or by accident, in at least a month.
And now some jerk of a photographer wanted a picture of them standing next to Kanter and that little fuck Terry Redfield. The two of them were standing there, waiting with their fat and ugly wives.
"Diane, you look stupendous," Redfield said, kissing her on both cheeks like some faggot French hairdresser. The smile faltered when he turned to Ray. He didn't even offer his hand, just nodded and muttered a token hello. It was understandable, given what had happened the last time they met, at the screening, which was when Ray discovered what they'd done to his performance. Though the bruise on the little bastard's jaw had gone, the memory clearly lingered on.
But neither of them was dumb enough to make a scene at what was now, since New York had been canceled, the only premiere The Forsaken would be getting. They all stood there, in front of the palms and the posters, dutifully smiling for the cameras. And soon it was over and they were making their way through to their seats where, for the next ninety-eight minutes, Ray would have to watch the damn picture all over again and pretend how wonderful it was.
Tommy was already sitting there with Leanne and didn't look too happy about it, though he perked up at the sight of his mom. Herb had thoughtfully hired the girl for the evening to look after the kid. Ray hadn't seen her since Arizona and was hoping they might get a few quiet moments at the party afterward so she could tend to his needs too. He managed to wink at her before the house lights went down, but she didn't seem to see him.
The previews in the trades had been damning. The only consistent praise was for Diane who, it seemed, could do no wrong. The critics all said things like this major new talent deserves a better vehicle and against all odds, a star is born. About Ray, on the other hand, the bastards were a lot less generous. Variety suggested he should stick to the day job and the smartass headline in the Hollywood Reporter said RED ROPES HIMSELF A TURKEY.
Ray wondered how they'd managed to form such an opinion because when you looked at the movie (which, as he watched it for the second time now, was even worse than he remembered), he was hardly in the damn thing. Redfield and Kanter, the little shits, had pretty well cut him out of every scene. Talk about a love story. It was like Diane's character was having an affair with the Invisible Man. Even the fucking horses had more close-ups.
Judging by the applause after the credits started to roll, the audience at the premiere seemed to like it enough despite some jerk at the back, cheering at the end of the court scene when the judge announced Ray's death sentence. What the hell did they know, anyhow. Herb Kanter had packed the place with friends and flunkies.
The party afterward was almost as bad as the movie. Tommy was tired so Diane had sent him directly home from the theater with Leanne, thus managing to skewer any hope Ray had of a cozy reunion. You could tell from the venue and from the quality of the food and the liquor that Kanter and the studio, the mean sonsofbitches, were already trying to cut their losses. Ray wandered around like a leper, the phony smile slowly sliding from his face. It was like the last night on the fucking Titanic. He made his way to the bar and had to wait for a long time to attract the young barman's attention.
"Excuse me?"
The kid seemed to be deliberately ignoring him.
"Do you have a problem with your hearing?"
"No, sir. May I help you?"
"Just give me a bottle of Jim Beam."
"Sorry, sir. I can give you a glass."
"Just give me the fucking bottle."
"Sir—"
"Do you know who I am?"
"Why, have you forgotten?"
Ray grabbed him by the neck and hauled him halfway across the bar, knocking over glasses, liquor splashing everywhere. The kid went red in the face and squealed like a piglet and said he was sorry, he was only kidding, it was just a joke. Everyone around them had stopped talking and were all staring. Some guy in a tuxedo, the party manager or whoever the hell he was, came to the rescue and Ray let the kid go. He got the bottle he'd been after and went off and found a quiet corner and sat there watching the sycophants flutter and fawn around Diane.
Of what happened after that, he had no clear recollection.
Diane slept in Tommy's room nowadays but she still usually heard Ray come home in the early hours. When she'd left the premiere party, a little after midnight, he was still sitting in the corner with a couple of young guys she didn't know. Much later she'd heard the car that dropped him home, heard him fumble with his keys at the front door, bump into the hallway table then stumble up the stairs. He would probably surface sometime around midday with his normal hangover.
The late night had taken its toll on Tommy too. Getting him out of bed this morning had been like prizing a limpet from a rock. There wasn't time for him to sit down for breakfast so she'd made him a bacon sandwich which he could eat in the car while she drove him to school. She was standing in the hallway, waiting for him to come downstairs.
"Tommy! Come on, we'll be late."
"Okay, okay."
The phone started to ring and she quickly picked up before Dolores could do so in the kitchen. It was Herb Kanter.
"Diane, thanks so much for all you did last night. You were great."
"Thank you, Herb. It was fun. Did you enjoy yourself?"
"Oh, yes." He paused for a moment and Diane realized Dolores was listening on the kitchen phone.
"Dolores? I've got it. Would you hang up, please?"
There was silence then a click.
"Herb?"
"Yes. Diane, we've got a bit of a problem."
"Oh? Don't tell me, more bad reviews."
"As a matter of fact, this morning's aren't too bad at all. No, it's more of a personal thing."
Diane couldn't think what he might mean. She waited for him to go on. Tommy was coming down the stairs now.
"An English newspaper, the Daily Express, has run a story today with a lot of... private things about you and Ray. And about Tommy too, I'm afraid. Of course, it's all a pack of lies. I've already spoken with Vern Drewe and he's on the case. He's had it wired over from London and we'll get a copy over to you as soon as we can."
Tommy was standing in front of her now. He had his sweater on back to front and still looked half asleep.
"Go brush your hair."
"Oh—"
"Do as you're told. Now!"
He slouched back up the stairs.
"And hurry up! We're late. Sorry, Herb. I have to go. I'll call you back in twenty minutes. But tell me quickly, what does it say?"
"It's about, well, you know... About the years when you claimed to be Tommy's sister. And the effect this had on your mother. It suggests that... well, that it might have played some part in her death."
"What! Where have they got this from?"
"It quotes someone who claims to be a friend of the family. A Mrs. Vera Dutton. She appears to have some kind of grudge against you."
"I don't believe it."
"Of course, it might all just blow over. But we've already had a couple of calls from reporters who've picked up on it over here. The studio is, well... getting a little exercised. We need to get together with Vern and sort out a response."
Tommy had come downstairs again.
"Herb, I'll call you back."
She hung up. Tommy looked wide awake now and worried.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing. Just, some of the reviews aren't so good. Come on, let's go. Got your bag? Here's your breakfast."
Miguel had the Galaxie ready and waiting outside with its roof down. Diane gave him as cheerful a good morning as she could muster.
"How was the premiere, Tommy? Good?"
"It was great."
"Momma's a big star now, no?"
"Yes."
Diane was praying there wouldn't be any reporters outside the gates and there weren't. Maybe it wasn't that big a story after all. But there was someone there, waiting under the trees. A young woman with a frizzy ponytail. And as they drove past, Diane recognized her. It was the same girl who had come to the house a few months ago and been so brutally turned away by Dolores.
Diane stopped and put the car into reverse.
"Diane, what are you doing?"
"It's that girl again."
"What girl? I'll be late for school."
"It won't take a moment."
The girl backed away as the car pulled up alongside her.
"Can I help you?" Diane said.
She didn't reply.
"Do you need help? Money or something?"
The girl gave a sort of sneering smile and looked away.
"Diane, please," Tommy whispered. "Let's go."
"Just a moment."
The girl was looking from one of them to the other. Her face was grimy and it was hard to know whether the look in her eyes was fear or contempt or both. Diane spoke more gently this time.
"Who are you?"
"As if you don't know."
"I don't. Honestly. Why should I?"
The girl looked away again with that same little sneer.
"Well, most people know their own stepdaughters."
It took a moment to sink in.
"My God."
Tommy looked frightened.
"Diane, what is it?"
She had to think quickly. For a moment she almost opened the door and told the poor creature to get in. But there was something about the look of her that made her decide not to. No. Better to drop Tommy off at school and then come back and sort it out. Sort everything out. Diane's heart was thumping.
"Wait here," she said. Then, more gently: "Please, wait here. I've just got to take my son to school. I won't be long. Then we can talk. Promise me you won't go away."
The girl shrugged, which was probably as close to a promise as Diane was going to get. As they went down the hill and around the first bend, she saw in the rearview mirror that the girl was still standing there. Tommy kept asking questions to which she had no answers. Eventually she snapped at him and told him to be quiet and eat his sandwich.
When they pulled up outside the school, it took her a few moments to realize something was different. At this time of day the street was always crowded with cars while parents escorted their children to the gates where Carl Curtis stood ready to greet them. But as Tommy was about to climb out of the car, Diane saw a group of men, half a dozen of them, maybe more, running toward them. Some had cameras and were already taking pictures.
"Diane! Good morning! Can we have a word, please?"
"Tommy," she said, starting up the engine again. "Get back in the car."
"What? Why?"
"Just do as I say! Shut the door."
She pulled away so fast that the tires screeched and if the reporters hadn't been so agile and quick and jumped aside, she would almost certainly have knocked them down.
"What's going on?" Tommy wailed.
"It's all right. Just some silly newspapermen."
"What about school? I'm late already."
"You're not going."
"Why not?"
"Tommy, you've got to help me out here. I'll tell you everything later. Please."
When they got back to the house, the girl wasn't there anymore. Maybe it was just as well. It wasn't until they were heading up the driveway that Diane decided what she was going to do. As they pulled up outside the house she told Tommy that when they got inside he was to go directly up to his room, get his bag from the closet and pack his things.
"Why? Where are we going?"
"I don't know. We're just going."
Miguel was heading out of the house to put the car in the garage but she told him as they walked past to leave it where it was, they would soon be going out again. When they came inside, Dolores handed her an envelope that had been delivered and a piece of paper with the numbers of all the people who had called while she'd been out. Diane didn't even bother to look at it. She followed Tommy up the stairs.
"Why is the boy not at school?" Dolores called after her.
"Mind your own damn business."
She pushed Tommy gently into his room and told him to hurry with his packing. He looked confused and scared.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Really. Just be as quick as you can."
Ray was sitting naked and hunched on the bed, with his feet on the floor, trying to rub the blur of his hangover from his eyes.
"What's going on?" he said. "The goddamn phone's been ringing nonstop."
Diane didn't reply. She headed for the closet and threw her suitcases onto the bed and started to pack.
"Diane, would you mind telling me what the hell you're doing?"
"We're going."
"You're what?"
"Are you still so drunk you can't hear? I said we're going."
"Why? What the fuck is this all about?"
She wasn't bothering to fold things, just stuffed whatever came to hand into the suitcases. Forget the dresses. Sweaters and coats, a few T-shirts, that's all she would need. Ray had got up and was standing behind her. From the edge of her vision she saw him reach out to touch her and she turned on him with such ferocity that he stumbled back and sat heavily on the bed. He looked pathetic. His nakedness disgusted her.
"Don't you dare touch me."
"What the fuck's gotten into you?"
"Ask your daughter. Or maybe you've got more than one. Ask all of them."
"Oh, Jesus, Diane. What the hell...? Oh, man. Did she show up again? You don't know how long I've wanted to tell you—"
"Is that so?"
"The kid's disturbed."
"I'm not surprised, the way you get Dolores to chase her away, like she's some sort of beggar."
That was enough clothes. She packed some shoes and a pair of hiking boots then went into the bathroom and scooped her things into her toilet bag. She knew she should be thinking it all through more carefully but she was too angry, not just at him but at herself for being so damn stupid for so damn long. When she came back into the bedroom he was pulling on a pair of jeans, hopping comically from foot to foot. She walked past him and fastened the suitcases and hauled them off the bed and headed for the door.
"Tommy?"
"I'm coming!"
"Diane, let's just sit down and talk about this. There's so much I need to tell you."
"I bet there is. Tommy, are you ready?"
She was on the landing now and put down the suitcases while she waited for Tommy. And here he came, struggling out of his room with a bag overflowing with clothes. Ray had followed her and came up behind her. He was still bare chested and she could smell the alcohol sweat on his skin.
"Diane, please."
"Where are we going?" Tommy said.
"You're not going anywhere, son. Mommy's just a little upset. We're going to sort it out, don't you worry. Go back in your room."
Diane put a hand on Tommy's shoulder.
"It's okay, Tommy. Let's go."
"Diane!"
Ray grabbed her arm as she started to pick up the suitcases.
"Let go of me!"
She tried to free herself but couldn't and now, with his other hand, he took hold of her shoulder and she lashed out at him but he caught her hand and slapped her hard across the face. Diane screamed and so did Tommy. She clawed at Ray's face and he shoved her violently back and she tripped and fell and hit her head hard against the wall. Tommy screamed again and Ray just stood there staring down at her, red eyed and clearly shocked by what he'd done, his face creasing in contrition.
He'd cut her lip. She could taste the blood and dabbed it with the back of her hand. She got to her feet and without another word picked up the suitcases and ushered Tommy with his bag down the stairs and past Dolores who was standing in the hallway, no doubt enjoying the show. And then they were outside and throwing the bags into the back of the Galaxie. Miguel came running, asking if everything was all right.
"No, it isn't," she said.
She opened the door and pushed Tommy across into the passenger seat then got in herself and slammed the door and started the engine. She didn't look back but she knew Ray was standing outside the front door with Dolores behind him and she could picture that proud little smirk on the bitch's face. When they drove out through the gates, she looked to see if the girl was there but she wasn't. Diane pointed the car down the hill and accelerated hard and soon they were around the bend and out of sight of the house and careering down the canyon, the sun strobing in on them through the trees and the glimpsed city shrouded in haze below.
It was a long time before either of them spoke. They were out on the new freeway and heading north, a thousand cars streaming the other way and the sky clearing to a limpid blue. And at last, quietly and without looking at her, Tommy asked where they were going.
"How about Montana?" she said.