Devil in Disguise (34 page)

‘Apparently
he knows where to buy drugs.’

‘Drugs?’
gasped Molly.

‘Yes,
indeed. You need to dabble. I have asked him to deliver six grams of
high-quality cocaine, some skunk and a packet of Valium.’

‘I’ve
never taken drugs in my life!’ said Molly, aghast.

‘I
know. A pitiful state of affairs. The cocaine we shall use as an appetite
suppressant mainly. You are not losing weight quickly enough for my liking. It
has the added advantage of being a depressant. Smoking joints will not only be
beneficial to your new voice but will make you dreamy and other-worldly. They
will also make you depressed,’ added Lilia, happily, as if listing the
advantages of a new skin-care range.

‘And
the Valium?’ asked Molly.

‘The
same,’ said Lilia. ‘All in all, a fabulous combination. Think of it as your
Judy Garland phase. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t slide into hopeless
addiction.’

Molly
thought for a moment. Taking drugs was a serious matter — she’d seen the damage
they could do — but this was a controlled environment, and Lilia was hardly
going to let her do anything really dangerous. Besides, she’d said she’d do
anything it took to become a famous singer … I’m fed up with being a good
girl, she thought recklessly. Look where it’s got me! Maybe it’s time to live a
little and find out what it’s like on the other side. ‘Okay,’ she said, like a
Girl Guide setting out to earn a new badge. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘As to
whether or not you should have sex again with Marcus, ‘continued Lilia,
weighing the options, ‘I am in favour of it. It will help to stoke up your
emotions and therefore improve your singing. Particularly when he chucks you
for someone younger and prettier. Your infatuation with his beautiful body
followed by the unanswered phone calls will do you the power of good. I’m all
for it.’

‘I’ll
go for a cigarette,’ said Molly.

Geoffrey, when he arrived,
was indeed an unappetising man with the air of an undertaker. His hands and
shirt collar were grubby and he had an unfortunate habit of grunting at the end
of each song — a pig-like sound that signified its completion. His piano
playing, however, was lovely, and his knowledge of torch songs encyclopedic.
After a couple of days Molly and Lilia realised that he was eccentric rather
than unfriendly, and if you could make him smile, which Molly’s singing
certainly could, then his face changed, lighting up with satisfaction. He
carried with him a battered briefcase bulging with sheet music.

The
first song that the new, improved Molly sang in Lilia’s living room was ‘Cry Me
A River.

‘Exquisite!’
pronounced Geoffrey, as Molly breathed to the end of the last, soulful note.

‘It can
be improved,’ said Lilia. ‘Curdle the words a bit more. You must spit when you
sing that he says he’s sorry. He
says
he’s sorry, but he must
prove
it.
Remember your own suffering! Cast your mind back to the night you were betrayed
by Daniel and Simon. Sorry is not enough. Again!’

Geoffrey
played the opening chords and Molly’s voice quivered with the bitter memory.

Lilia
interrupted her: ‘No. You are still too kind and too gentle. You need to infuse
the words with meaning, convey to me the betrayal and eternal hurt they
inflicted on you that night. Sing it with irony. Find a way in. Again!’

Molly
sang the song over and over until she was reliving the events of that terrible night
with every phrase. Tears ran down her cheeks and her chest heaved with emotion.

‘Good!’
said Lilia, at last. ‘That is what the song is about: the refusal to forgive or
forget. Now you have it.’

Geoffrey
said very little, but smiled encouragingly at Molly and adjusted his playing to
accommodate her increasingly dark and dangerous rendition.

At the
end of their two-hour session (punctuated with several cigarette breaks for
Molly), Lilia handed the pianist a twenty-pound note and said, ‘Thank you, Geoffrey.
Your playing is very satisfactory. Most sensitive. We shall continue tomorrow
at the same time.’

Geoffrey
bowed respectfully. ‘I would be very happy to. A fine afternoon’s work.’ He
turned to Molly. ‘Congratulations. A remarkable voice! And your teaching, Miss
Delvard, is, w-ell, inspiring.’

‘You
are most kind,’ said Lilia, opening the lounge door to show him out. ‘Tomorrow
we will work on “The Man That Got Away” and Hoagy Carmichael’s “Sky Lark”.’

‘Marvellous
songs,’ said Geoffrey, enthusiastically. ‘I shall look forward to it.’

Molly
was in the garden, smoking, where Lilia joined her after she had seen Geoffrey
out, Heathcliff at her heels. ‘You are going to be a great singer. I am already
very proud of you.’

Molly
tipped her head back and closed her eyes, blowing smoke up towards the sky.
‘Oh, I hope so. I can begin to feel it.’

‘Your
destiny,’ whispered Lilia, ‘awaits you.’

Molly
opened her eyes and straightened her head to look affectionately at the old
lady. She smiled, raised her shoulders towards her ears, then dropped them down
again. ‘I’m so excited,’ she said. ‘I’ve suddenly got a purpose in life. It’s a
wonderful feeling.’

They
gave each other a warm hug. Heathcliff collected his ball from the lawn and
dropped it at their feet.

‘Tonight is special,
Molly!’

They
were sitting in the lounge. Lilia and Molly had not long finished their salad
and were watching the news headlines.

‘Really?
What’s happening? Am I going out?’

‘In a
manner of speaking. I’ve arranged for a delivery of drugs. You are going to try
some, just as we discussed.’

‘Lilia,
what are you doing to me?’ asked Molly, as if she was being tempted with
chocolates.

‘You
cannot sing the blues if you are pure. You need to experience a few unnatural
highs and lows to be convincing. You took to drugs after your lover betrayed
you. You were trying to blot out the pain. You had nothing to live for. You
were at an all-time low. Drugs were your only escape.’

‘I get
the general idea,’ said Molly, considering the prospect.

‘It
will be good for your biography. Your singing talent sprang forth when you were
in the very depths, and so on.’

Molly
laughed. ‘I can’t believe all this. You really are recreating me, aren’t you?
You’re like Henry Higgins!’

She was
amazed by the thoroughness of Lilia’s vision. She seemed to have thought of
everything.

At that
moment, the doorbell rang.

‘Ah!’ said
Lilia. ‘The delivery. You stay here while I deal with Marcus in the kitchen.
You must know nothing of it — he may try to sell his story to the press one
day. Bastard.’ And she left the room.

Molly
heard the front door open and Marcus’s monosyllabic tones as he and Lilia went
down the hallway to the kitchen. Five minutes later Lilia opened the lounge
door and announced, ‘Marcus has come to see you.’ Then she added significantly,
‘I think I will have an early night.’

She
retreated through the door and Marcus shuffled in. He hung his head as if he
was embarrassed to see Molly, his hands dug deep in his pockets. His tousled
hair had gone, replaced with a crew-cut and a few days’ stubble. He didn’t look
at her until Lilia had closed the door behind him, but when he finally raised
his eyes he did a double-take.

‘Molly,
is that you?’

‘Hiya,
Marcus. Yes, it’s me.’

‘What
happened to the curls?’

Molly
smiled nervously. ‘Oh, I had it straightened. What happened to yours?’

Marcus
stroked the top of his head as if he was only now aware of his new severe
hairstyle. ‘I let a mate cut it one night when I was pissed. How come you’re
still here? I thought you went back to your boyfriend.’

‘I
did,’ said Molly, suddenly embarrassed at the memory of their night together.
She felt a guilty twinge deep inside her. ‘It ended rather messily so I came
back to Lilia’s.’

He
nodded as though this made perfect sense, then stared at her again. ‘You’re a
bit thin, aren’t you?’

‘I’ve
been dieting.’

There
was an uncomfortable silence. ‘Perhaps I’d better go,’ said Marcus. ‘Would you
like a drink, maybe?’

‘I’m on
the bike. Better not.’

Molly
sipped her brandy. How could someone she had known so intimately seem such a
stranger? She had devoured this boy a few months before, and he had twisted her
body into all manner of shapes, but now there seemed to be nothing between them
except mutual mortification. Despite Lilia’s blessing there seemed little desire
on either side to repeat their night of lust.

Marcus
mumbled, “Bye, then,’ and left the room with unseemly haste.

Molly
sat alone with her brandy and contemplated the feeling of emptiness she was
experiencing. Seeing Marcus again and receiving the confirmation that sex with
him had been a drunken fling, a physical release and nothing more left her
vulnerable.

Was
this what Simon went through after each of his many one-night stands? How
desolate and lonely it must be. How damaging. All that was left was the memory
of the moment. And because she had been drunk, that memory was all mashed up in
her brain: she had flashes of moaning, tongue-stretching French kisses, the
urgent uncovering and tasting of genitals and other animalistic acts. She and
Marcus had been possessed and overcome, unthinking to the point of
mindlessness. Maybe sensual pleasure alone was the point. It was foolish to try
to analyse it in a rational way. Perhaps giving in to it, seeking out that
liberating second of sexual ecstasy, was a life-affirming instinct — a
self-contained triumph for nature to claim over rational, developed human
analysis.

Her
thoughts were interrupted by Lilia coming into the lounge, now wearing her
nightie and slippers. ‘I heard Marcus leave,’ she said, pouring herself a
brandy and refilling Molly’s glass. ‘Rather lost his charm, I think. It can be
so fleeting in young-men, I find.’ She sat down in her usual chair.

‘We
didn’t really know what to say to each other,’ said Molly.

‘You
were ships that passed out in the night,’ concluded Lilia.

‘I
guess we were,’ agreed Molly.

‘How do
you feel about that?’

‘Confused,’
said Molly, ‘that something so intense can also be so meaningless.’

Lilia
nodded knowingly. ‘Ah, yes, indeed. There is a song called “Is That All There
Is?” by Leiber and Stoller. I think you will perform it very well. Do you know
it?’

‘Was it
sung by Peggy Lee?’

‘After
she stole it from me, yes.’ Lilia closed her eyes and began to sing in her high
vibrato: “‘Break out the booze and have a ball — if that’s all there is.”‘

‘Yes!
I’ve heard it before,’ said Molly. ‘I’d love to sing that!’

‘You
will do it wonderfully,’ said Lilia. ‘Hang on to your feelings of confusion
about Marcus. File them away. They will be very useful. It is a song about
disappointment. Even death will fail to live up to expectations.’

‘I
can’t wait, said Molly.

‘I
shall call Geoffrey in the morning and tell him to bring the music with him
tomorrow afternoon. It could be your encore, maybe.’ Lilia got out of her chair
and stood in front of Molly. ‘Now put out your hand.’

Molly
did as she was told.

‘Here,’
said Lilia, placing her clenched fist on top of Molly’s hand and unfurling it.

Molly
felt something small drop on to her palm. ‘What is this?’ she asked, examining
a small, purple, diamond-shaped pill.

‘Something
to help you drift off to sleep,’ said Lilia, soothingly. ‘Judy’s favourite.’

‘Oh, I
don’t think I need it,’ said Molly, resisting. ‘No, thank you.’ She tried to
return it to Lilia, who put both hands behind her back.