The teasing began the moment I walked into the bar on my own.
Vic Hely-Hutchinson started it. " Well hello stranger, we haven’t seen you in months. Kelly out with the girls?"
Ivor Gurney joined in. “Got a night off the leash, Peter?"
“Hey you fellows are just jealous, as am I." Michael Tippett had his say." Who wouldn’t be when your girlfriend looks like a goddess, behaves like a tigress, whose family owns a brewery and ah, so I'm told, is more than a little bit kinky? Doesn’t she have a few fetishes - like cat fighting?"
I looked at Mike, wondering how did he know? Had he heard gossip? Had he seen the pictures Kelly posted on the net? She made sure she was anonymous but liked to name and display her enemies, so perhaps Mike or someone else had seen the pictures and identified the pixelated victress. Had he perhaps even seen one of Kelly’s fights? I’d warned Kelly that she’d gone too far. She’d ignored me. Now it seemed I’d been proved right.
I grunted. "Guys, leave it out" I sipped my drink.
Mike realised he had overstepped the mark, and weighed in on my side – kind of. "Why would Peter want to hang out with us, when he can mix it with the rich and famous at the yacht club?”
"Peter's always gone to the yacht club. He just used to come here after work more often,” Ivor added again.
"And now, like some of you guys, I have a lovely lady and I want to see her every day. That's all. Let me be." I tried to hose them down.
Malcolm Sargent turned to me, “You’re one lucky man, Pete! Don’t listen to them, they’re just jealous.” He glanced around the lot of them. “Guys, we’ve teased him enough. Let’s knock it off, hey?”
“Do you feel lucky...Pete? Well do you..Pete? Reach for your wallet...Pete...it’s your turn to buy the drinks!” Vic the mimic had to get that one in.
I smiled at my friends and bought a round. I sat down and we began to talk about the latest Cubs game.
After a while I noticed a hot, generously proportioned and scantily clad woman walk past. Her blonde mane was gathered with a clip at the back of her neck but still cascaded down to her waist. She stopped. “Hey Malcolm, long time no see!"
Malcolm waved sketchily to the blonde. “Hey, Elena!”
She came over. “How are you, Malcolm?” She put her hand on his shoulder.
“I'm well thanks. How are you?”
“Ok.” She shrugged. “Not doing much. Drifting.”
“That’s a surprise. I’ve never seen you here before.”
“No, its the first time I’ve been to this bar.”
One didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to realize that. Elena looked out of place. While the men wore jackets and ties, all the other women were in conservative, professional attire; a blouse and skirt and perhaps a jacket, or a dark colored dress, with minimal makeup. Elena’s flat belly was bare as she wore a low cut halter which emphasized her generous breasts and tight, wet look knee length leggings stretched over her shapely thighs. I’d noticed her blood red nail polish when she'd stroked Malcolm's shoulder. Now I saw that her toes – visible through her open high heels – matched her fingers. Her big green eyes were enhanced by a dark eye shadow and she had hot pink lipstick.
Vic nudged me and whispered, “Hot trash.” That about summed up my first impressions.
"Are these your friends?" Elena asked Malcolm.
"Yes, some of them." Malcolm turned to us. “Elena's a friend of some friends. We met at a Cubs game last month.”
"Hey there," Elena said to us all. She didn’t seem too interested in the rest of us though. She stood looking at Malcolm.
After a moment Malcolm said, “Come and join us.”
She smiled, sat down next to him and said, “I haven't seen you since the Cubs game. Where have you been hiding? I was hoping you'd come and see us play volleyball. I did ask you to.”
“Yeah, I'm sorry, Elena. I was so busy.”
“Too busy to see us, even when I invited you?” Elena looked glum.
“We work such stupid hours. There's been so much going on, I've hardly been out of the office.” He was trying not to sound defensive, but he wasn’t succeeding.
“Except to go to the film noir festival,” Vic chipped in with a malicious grin.
Malcolm glared at him. “Elena, I was committed to that. The firm was one of the sponsors. I had to go.” Malcolm tried to placate the pouting blonde
“Every night the festival was on?” Vic twisted the knife.
“I was on the organizing committee.” Malcolm sounded embarrassed. Any man would be, trying to explain to a girl why he stood her up.
“Malcolm you just about are the organising committee. I’m sure you’d have been able to get more tickets if you’d tried.” Vic was relentless. “You could have gotten one for – I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” Vic was being total prick. Malcolm had said her name at least a half dozen times.
“Elena.”
Malcolm caved in. “I should've done. I wasn't thinking. I had so much going on. I'll make it up to you though, starting with a drink. Let me buy you one.”
Elena perked up immediately. “Thank you, Malcolm. I’d love a bourbon and pepsi.” Malcolm got up and went to the bar to fetch her order.
Vic nudged me again, whispering. “Malcolm not only could have got more tickets, he did. He took Margot to the festival. But the bimbo doesn’t need to know that.”
I muttered back “Don't be such a snob, Vic.”
“It's not that – okay it is, but not just that, though it’s true. She’s hot trash, like I said. Look at her – the way she’s dressed, the makeup, the whole package. It screams trash. Malcolm would never be happy with her for long. He’s got a lovely girlfriend in Margot if he – no, they – would just be a bit more direct. They’re both so shy with each other.”
“He hasn't been too shy with that one,” I pointed out with a glance at Elena.
“Elena picked him up. She came looking for him, not the other way round. C’mon - what has she got in common with Malcolm? Okay, baseball – anything else? You heard her, she had to come find Malcolm. Why? Is she knocked up? She’s just the sort of hot trash who’d get herself pregnant to trap a guy like Malcolm. In her terms he’d be a good catch. He looked at Elena and raised his voice. “You said you’d never been here before. What brings you here now?”
“I hoped I’d find Malcolm here. My friends told me he usually comes here on Friday nights.”
“Your friends were right. Where did you meet him?” Malcolm had already told us, but Vic was fishing.
“At the Cubs game. One of my friends is a secretary where Malcolm works. She introduced us. We had a hot dog and a beer and a chat.”
I coughed quietly into my drink. International law firms like the one Malcolm worked for didn’t have secretaries. They had P A’s. Either Elena didn’t know the ‘secretary’ too well or the secretary didn’t know Malcolm too well. Maybe both. The secretary didn’t know Malcolm had a – sort of – girlfriend. Still, there was probably some truth to it. Malcolm was a rabid Cubs fan. I’d had many a beer and a hot dog at Wrigley Field with him.
“What’s your job, Elena?” Ivor asked, speaking for the first time since Elena had appeared.
“I’m a secretary too.”
“And when was this Cubs game, when you met Malcolm? He plays his cards pretty close to his chest, you know, otherwise I'm sure he would have mentioned you.” I never could resist pulling the pin on a grenade when it was handed to me - and giving it a hefty throw.
“About three weeks ago.” She giggled, apparently more than a little tipsy. "I only met him that one time but he's such a nice guy.” She giggled again. “I really had to find him again.”
Malcolm came back. He started to chat about baseball and whether the Cubs were right to have traded Sammy Sosa at the end of the previous season. Everyone had an opinion, of course. Everyone, that is, except Elena. She was quiet, but she broke her silence when the conversation lagged. "Maddux was great. They did well to get him back from Atlanta. He’s broken a record this year - seventeen consecutive seasons with 15 or more wins.” As she put her drink down, she brushed Malcolm’s shoulder with her own. A few moments later, she picked the glass up and brushed his shoulder again, this time leaving her shoulder and upper arm pressed against his for a few seconds.
Again, everyone had a view on Maddux – generally favourable – and we talked till Laurie got up and bought another round of drinks. Elena was stroking Malcolm’s arm now. He turned and looked at her. She batted her eyes at him, then looked away blushing, saying, “They were unlucky. I thought they'd be above the Wild Card team and make it into the playoffs on their stats.
Again, she got people talking. Everyone had a view on the playoffs. She stroked Malcolm’s arm again and again he turned and looked at her. Again she batted her eyes then looking away with another blush. I tried not to roll my eyes.
We talked about baseball for a good fifteen minutes or more. Elena only asked the occasional question or made a brief comment but she kept the conversation going and the guys talking. She squeezed Malcolm's hand and brushed her body against his. I caught him flashing a private smile at her. He seemed to be falling for her flirts.
“How did the film festival go?” Vic ended a lull in the conversation.
“Best yet,” replied Malcolm. “Three nights a week for both weeks, two films a night, total of twelve films. We even covered expenses. We really didn’t need any sponsorship. This year we featured independent productions, I think you saw “Detour” which was made by a tiny company, PRC – they were always broke. We showed both Fritz Lang’s films starring Edward G Robinson – “Scarlett Street” and “The Woman in the Window” Lang produced that one himself but had a distributorship deal with Universal,. Did you know “Scarlett Street” was banned in New York? It was banned in the south too but I always thought New York was pretty broad minded."
I had to ask. “Why was it banned anyway? Sex?”
Malcolm started to warm up to his subject. “I think it was the first Hollywood film where the criminal isn’t punished for his crimes – not directly anyway. Edward G’s character ends up penniless, unable to get the credit for his paintings, but he doesn’t get any criminal punishment for embezzlement or murder.” He took a sip of his drink.
Elena started tapping her fingers on his arm, raising first one and tapping it down, then a second, and so on. She would run her fingers up and down his bare arm, then start tapping again. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. They smiled at each other for a moment, then he went on.
The conversation flowed for a while, everyone talking about the fims; that is everyone except Elena who sat glumly looking at Malcolm who was too engrossed in his favourite subject to notice.
He turned to me. “It was good to see you and Kelly and your friends there a few nights. It was especially good to meet Kim Curzon. Not often we get a professional actress gracing our festival. She was a bit quiet the first few nights but really opened up towards the end.”
“We enjoyed it. It was a good festival. That’s why we came several times.”
I sat back in my chair, remembering. Kelly had seen the advertising flyer at my apartment where she’d left her auto when we went to the beach. We’d walked back and I’d made a coffee for us both. “What’s this about, Peter?” I told her about the festival, that a friend was on the organizing committee.
"Hmm – big name sponsors. Do lots of people go? Regular people, I mean – not just actors and film critics.”
“Uh huh,” I answered off hand, still reading the mail; I got a lot. The weekend was the only time I caught up on it. “It’s a pretty big event. I usually go to one or two nights.”
Kelly’s response was anything but off hand. “Not any more! We’re going to get a group together. We’re going to go to as many nights as we can. Where’s my diary?” Within a few minutes she was on the phone. “Kim – it’s Kelly here. Yes dear, don’t sound so surprised. Peter and I are going to a film festival. We’d like you to come too.” She gave the dates. “You are coming aren’t you? Oh you’re performing? Okay – what nights are you free? Good. We’ll pick you up at your place, those nights.”
She hung up and turned to me. “Why are you looking so surprised? Surely you know by now, Kim does what I tell her. I want Kim to come.”
“I gathered that.”
She made a few more, somewhat less intense calls to other friends. She soon got a party together. I wondered why she was so enthusiastic but even then when we’d been dating only a few weeks and weren’t living together, I knew better than to ask directly. I’d wait and watch.
Vic’s voice brought me back to the present. “Ï suppose you must find this a bit boring,” he said to the silent Elena, “All this talk about movies made 50 or 60 years ago – but these old films are one of Malcolm’s main hobbies. His law firm sponsors the festival and he’s one of the organizers.”
“Oh no, that’s cool.” Elena said quickly – too quickly really, and a bit nervously, I thought. “I like some of the femme fatale stars – like Marlene Dietrich.”
“She wasn’t a film noir actress,” said Malcolm. “Some people say she wasn’t really an actress at all – she was just Marlene Dietrich in every role she ever played. In a way, that’s to her credit. Femme fatale she may have been – film noir actress she was not.”
“Errr…well, which femme fatale actress do you like best in film noir?” Elena asked.
“Veronica Lake,” replied Malcolm without hesitation. Elena's puzzled expression showed she'd never heard of the gorgeous little blonde.
The conversation continued, the guys talking and Elena sitting silent, glumly, fidgeting with her handbag, her hair, her top. I reflected on how cunningly Vic had set Elena up. First he steered the conversation to the subject of film noir and then, by what seemed to be an apology to her, he exposed how little, if anything, she knew about Malcolm’s abiding interest.
Perhaps five minutes later, Elena pushed back her chair. “I need to go. Goodbye, Malcolm.” She stood up, turned, walked a couple of paces, all but fell over a chair, straightened herself and walked towards the door.
“Elena…” Malcolm began.
“Let her go,” said Vic. “She’s not your sort of girl. Look at her.” He waved an arm around him. “Look at every other woman in the bar. Yeah, they might wear something like that on Saturday, but not after work. She’s trash. And she’s got no conversation. Do you want a girl friend whose sole topic is baseball? She’s ignorant. Unless you want a four F girl – you know, find her, feed her, fuck her, forget her – then then don’t go there.” He paused, then continued. “Compare her with Margot. Elena’s a secretary, probably just got a high school diploma at best. Margot’s a market analyst, college degree with double major –economics and statistics.”
“Margot Tennant is so standoffish,” Malcolm argued, getting to his feet, fumbling for his cell phone. “She’s…cold!”
“Damn it, she’s shy, just like you are!” Vic snapped. “Margot’s the woman for you, not that trash.”
“I don’t need your advice, Victor Hely-Hutchinson!” Malcolm retorted. He walked off, punching his cell’s buttons
“He’ll regret this,” Vic shook his head.
"Oh really" I raised my eyebrows. "Shes' a hottie. "
"Shes' a cheap slut" Vic snapped
"Yeah but you wouldn't throw her out of bed, would you?" Michael probed.
"Oh, hell no! I'd do her in a New York minute! But I sure wouldn't bring the slut home to meet my mother!" Ivor replied, summing up what my thoughts about Elena well.
“Unless he really is after a four F girl, and that’s not like Malcolm." Vic added " Oh well, he’ll learn not to date a slut. “He broke off and chuckled. “That reminds me, my brother knows how to deal with a slut. He was walking down Chamberlain Street with two friends after a night out. Mike, you know one of them– Alan Lobsey.”
Mike nodded. “Yeah I know him.”
Vic continued. “They were going to catch the L home, when they met up with this fat drunk slut. She’d apparently lost some sort of fight – badly. She had bruises all over her body, she’d lost half her clothes too. All she had on was some sort of long jacket and boots. The guys got her to suck them off.” He saw the looks on our faces and added, “No, not like that. No force, or almost none – just sheer will power. The slut knew who was boss. She did what she was told.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Lobsey,” said Mike. “He’s got some strange magnetism in him. Something’s got to explain why he’s a captain in the National Guard, even though he dropped out of ROTC after the basic course.” He clearly didn’t like Lobsey. “And he’s a thug.”
Vic chuckled again. “You know, maybe I was wrong – maybe Elena would suit Malcolm. Deep down, he’s a bit shallow. Peter, do you remember introducing him to your Kelly’s friend, Kim Curzon?”
I nodded. Kelly had not been satisfied with my conventional, “Malcolm Sergeant, meet our friend Kim Curzon.”
Kelly cut in. “Peter! You forgot to mention that Kim’s a professional actress. She’s currently starring as Ruth – the young wife – in Coward's “Blythe Spirit.”
"How very interesting" Malcolm said after a second or so. He turned to Kim. “I'm pleased to meet you, Kim. I hope you enjoy our festival.”
“I’m sure I will. Thank you Malcolm, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Kim was subdued; not the slightest flirtatious glance. Kelly talked on about films, about drama.
Again Vic’s voice brought me back to the present as he continued. “Then I’m sure you’ll remember Malcolm’s pregnant pause when Kelly told him Kim was acting in Coward’s comedy. It – the pause, I mean – showed Malcolm had no idea what she was talking about.” Vic Hely-Hutchinson was malicious but he was darn perceptive too. “And your Kelly was a bit forward in pressing on, talking about stage shows, drama and the like. Never heard her do that before. Had she cribbed up on some theatrical website or something?”
“She’s a clever lady. She likes the theatre. How do you think she met Kim to begin with?”
“Just so, just so,” he replied, clearly disbelieving me.
I admitted to myself that Kelly’s knowledge had surprised me too. Perhaps Vic was right, perhaps Kelly had taken a crash course. And it was then that I thought back to Kelly’s enthusiasm for the festival and to her determination that Kim should come.
I was wondering about this man Lobsey, so to change the subject, I leaned across and asked, “Mike, you were talking about Lobsey – what kind of magnetism?"
“Can’t really say. I don’t know him well enough – but people follow him.”
Further conversation halted as Malcolm returned with a still pouting and upset Elena. He bought her another drink and they sat down for a moment or two, not saying much, then got up to dance.
I watched them. “When I came in tonight Malcolm said I was lucky. I think Malcolm might be the lucky one.” Elena was dirty dancing with him, her arms holding him close. They were kissing deeply.
Vic said, “Looks to me as if he’s not so much lucky as about to get lucky.” He chuckled at his own joke.
I had to smile. It wasn’t just a good joke, it looked like the truth. But then, Bernard Shaw did say “The truth is the funniest joke in the world.” Malcolm did look as if he would soon get lucky with Elena. She was groping him, her hands roaming all over his back, as she ground herself into his crotch.
Vic started again on Kelly. “As I was saying, your Kelly was very clued up on drama. She seemed to know more than the professional actress herself. At least she answered all the questions. Kim was very quiet.”
I nodded remembering Kim had been noticeably reticent, speaking only in monosyllables and even then, not very often. Vic continued, “Kim seemed in awe of Kelly.”
I tried to deflect the conversation with a laugh, “She’s not the only one. I’m in awe of her too. Kelly’s totally awesome. I’m blessed to have such a lovely lady.”
The band finished its set and the music stopped. We watched as Malcolm and Elena walked back, his arm round her shoulder, her arm round his waist. They sat down and briefly tried to join in the conversation but their minds – and their bodies – were elsewhere, too wrapped up in each other to talk to anyone else.
Malcolm got a drink, returned and again the two chatted. Elena’s hand disappeared under the table. I heard a rustle and put two and two together – at the very least, she was stroking Malcolm’s leg under the table. She kissed him again. I was about to say “You two should get a room” when Elena excused herself and went to the bathroom.
Elena had been gone for perhaps five minutes when Margot Tennant walked up. “Hey Malcolm,” she said, bending to kiss him. I looked at Margot. She was almost the model of a successful career woman, her strawberry blonde hair tied back, her pale skin aglow. She wore glasses that improved her looks, setting off deep blue eyes. She wore a cream blouse and a dark blue pinstriped suit with a tailored jacket and knee length skirt, and matching colored heels.
Malcolm reddened, “Err, hi Margot. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Aren’t you glad you did?” She sounded put out, and with good reason. As Vic had said, Malcolm and Margot had been almost but not quite an item for ages. I'd seen them together at parties, at Cubs games when Kelly and I were there. They had even been to my apartment for dinner in pre-Kelly days.. But they weren't living together and they weren't always together. Kelly had told me she thought Margot wasn't really committed to Malcolm, that she was just keeping him around in case something better didn't come along. Then again, Kelly didn’t like Margot or any other girl I’d ever dated in the past. Kelly said Margot was a bit too full of herself. In fact we had discussed – usually in bed – the tantalizing prospect of her taking Margot apart in a catfight.
I thought Kelly was more than a bit jealous of Margot; more jealous than she usually was of my old flames. Margot was stylish, very clever and cultured. She also liked old films, which was one reason why she and Malcolm had hit it off. Vic was right, even if he was a snob – Margot and Malcolm did have many things in common. Elena and Malcolm probably did not.
Margot was also an opera buff and knew a lot about art. In short, she showed Kelly up in many things. – and Kelly loathed being shown up. That was another reason why Kelly had been so keen to go to the film festival and why she had studied up before hand. She wanted to show another facet of her superiority.
That reminded me of another conversation. One night we were at the film festival and Kelly had run into some college friends. “Meet my new man, Peter Balfour, and meet our friend Kim Curzon, who’s appearing in the leading role in Coward’s “Blythe Spirit”. Have any of you seen it?”
It seemed that one of the friends had. She was suitably impressed that Kelly knew the leading lady. We talked about the play for a few moments. “Peter, Kim, we have some catching up to do. Will you excuse us?” Kelly turned to her friends. “Let’s get some drinks and a table.” They walked off.
“Sometimes I think I’m on show.” Kim sighed quietly. She walked off in the opposite direction.
About twenty minutes later I saw her again, sitting with Margot, who beckoned me over. “Peter! Are your ears burning? We were just talking about you. I was telling Kim you were quite civilized.”
“Peter, its just that most of Kelly’s men have been – I don’t know – unsuitable for her,” added Kim in response to my raised eyebrow. “All too often they’re just trophies from a fight.” She lit up another cigarette. “She decides to fight some woman, she wins, and she takes the woman’s boyfriend. Usually the fight isn’t even over the boyfriend. In fact it’s hard to say why she fights.”
“Sometimes I wonder if she’s just a complete bitch who wants to beat up any woman she thinks might be a threat to her,” offered Margot.
“Or maybe she just likes the thought that she can kick somebody’s ass and take her man – any man she wants.”
“I don’t think it’s that,” I argued, sitting down. “Kelly’s just the dominant type – the alpha female, I guess. She fights anyone she thinks might give her a good fight – or anybody she thinks deserves to be taken down a peg or two. If she happens to get a guy’s attention as a result of that, then that’s just a side benefit.”
“Is that what happened with you?” Margot asked archly. “Were you a side benefit?”
“Yes, in a way. It all happened on the beach. Kelly had picked out her target – a brunette, I guess you’d call her voluptuous – before she even set eyes on me. The brunette had just thrashed a young mom. You could see the brunette thought she was Queen Bitch. I thought so too and to be honest, I was daydreaming about her.
Kelly came up to me we had a brief conversation – then she moved on. I’d almost forgotten about them both till I saw the brunette come up out from the water. Kelly set her up, crashing into her, spilling a drink. They had a – ” I smiled at Kim. “ – I think you, Kim, once called it a ‘full and frank exchange of viewpoints’. It blossomed into a fight. Kelly won. I bought her dinner. We have been together ever since.”
“Kelly knew you were daydreaming about the brunette.” Kim wasn’t asking. She knew. She took another draw on her cigarette.
“Uh huh.” I blushed. “So what is it with Kelly’s previous men?”
“They’re basically dumb. Kelly soon finds out that they have no conversation, no culture and no taste, so she dumps them.” Kim puffed again. “But Margot assures me, you’re not like that.” Margot said nothing. I recalled that she had been too quiet for me. She really did suit Malcolm much better. He was pretty quiet and shy himself.
A flash of movement brought me back to the present once more. Margot had taken off her jacket and slung it over the side of the chair that Elena had recently vacated. She sat down and nestled up to him, giving him a warm kiss on the lips, though not the red hot kind Elena had been giving him a few minutes before. I tried to make myself as small and unobtrusive as I could. This was going to get nasty.
It didn’t take long. Behind me there was a clatter of glasses and crockery. I turned to see Elena had shoved aside a table that had been laid for dinner and the whole lot had crashed to the floor. She strode right up to our table "Why are you kissing my man?”
Margot half rose from her chair' What do you mean your man?"
"Who the fuck are you?” Elena spat. “You pallid over dressed clothes rack!"
“Malcolm who's this slut, she looks like a hooker?" Margot fired back.
Elena pushed forward and slapped Margot's face.
Stunned, Margot looked at Malcolm who stuttered something meaningless. He already knew he was in deep trouble. She rubbed her cheek and looked at Elena. . What the…?” Her sentence was cut off when Elena slapped her face again. We all heard the crack of the slap as Margot rocked , then gasped as Elena slapped her again, this time with both hands – one on each cheek. Margot managed to parry Elena’s fourth slap, pushing Elena’s arm down and to the side. She tried to slap Elena’s face but Elena shoved her backwards, then clapped both her hands on Margot’s shoulders and pushed hard.
Margot’s face darkened as she staggered and almost fell back into her chair. She slapped back at Elena and for the first time her blow connected, leaving a red welt on the blonde’s face. Elena stepped back, perhaps surprised that the redhead could fight back. Margot stepped to the side and away from the restricting table and chairs. She stepped forward, slapping Elena on both cheeks this time.
Her hands up to protect her face, Elena responded by kicking Margot’s right thigh, just above knee level. Margot staggered again, retreating a few paces before attacking once more with her hands clawed, raking Elena’s face. “You blonde slut! What did I do to you? I hate blondes!” Drops of blood appeared in the furrows Margot had scratched in Elena’s cheek. Elena tried to brush Margot’s hands away. She succeeded, only to have Margot switch her target to the blonde’s neck. Elena gasped as Margot’s nails dug deep. Elena retreated. She seemed stunned.
“Stop it! Stop it at once! You can’t fight here like this.” Ivor was the first to state the obvious. For almost a minute, he and the rest of us had sat or stood, stupefied. I had never seen a fight at the bar. It didn’t have bouncers, because it didn’t need them. There was a doorman to keep the riff raff out, and the uncharitable thought crossed my mind that he might have been asleep on the job when Elena came in.
Ivor ’s words seemed to wake Malcolm. He stepped between the two women. “Stop! Stop it now!”
The doorman and the bar manager arrived. “Okay! Out you go!” the manager ordered Elena. “No – not the front door. Use the back door through the loading bay. That way!” He pointed.
Elena paused for a moment, obviously wondering if she could refuse to leave.
“Where does the back door exit to?” Margot interjected.
“The alley behind the bar – why?” replied the manager. He suddenly whipped his head around and looked at Margot. “No – you can’t be serious!”
“I am, and I’m going to thrash this bimbo!” She turned to Elena. “You started this, slut! I’ll end it and I’ll end you!. You’ll never come inside a place like this again.”
“Oh you think, do you – you stuck up bitch?” snapped Elena. Her face was dark with anger. “I’ll fuck you up so bad, you’ll never be able to show your snooty face in here again! Gonna make an example of you, bitch!”
Margot turned to Malcolm. “Come on! Come and see me take the trash out. Yes – all of you!” She walked briskly towards the back of the bar. Still stupefied, we followed her –and Elena - to where the back entrance opened onto a narrow alley, lined either side with trash cans.
Margot and Elena didn’t waste any time. They began to circle, each looking for an opening. Margot struck first with a couple of slaps aimed at Elena’s boobs as Elena tried vainly to bat Margot’s arms away and then to land her own slaps. Margot – her blows landing just above Elena’s breasts – pushed her away. For the first time Margot had an advantage. It didn’t last. Elena grabbed at Margot’s hair, yanking the redhead towards her. She tried to impale Margot on her knee but Margot twisted out of that trap and slapped hard. Elena spluttered but sent a hard punch aimed at Margot’s left kidney. Margot twisted again, avoiding the blow but she failed to avoid Elena’s upraised knee which struck her lower tummy.
“Elena’s a cunning bitch. She was bound to hit Margot with one or other prong of that pincer attack,” I said. I licked my lips.
“Poor Margot, I don’t think she’s ever fought before.” Malcolm said. He was wrong, but I didn’t think now was the time to correct his error.
“And now she's fighting for you!” added Vic. “You should be flattered!”
Margot groaned as Elena’s knee hit. Her arms dropped and she stumbled back, all but winded. Elena advanced. Elena seemed wary. Perhaps she was new to fighting too. She aimed some slaps at Margot’s breasts. Margot countered with some punches aimed at Elena’s tummy. Elena dodged the first and batted the second away but Margot had bought some time. She stepped sideways.
Elena came onto her, raising her hands to slap again. Margot tried to kick. Elena avoided the kick, reaching with her right hand, trying to scoop up Margot’s foot before it reached the ground again. She failed but in her haste to retreat, Margot stumbled, her hands in the air trying to defend against a further slap at her face from Elena’s left. She succeeded but Elena turned her failed scoop into a successful punch that struck Margot’s side.
Margot retreated, hurt. She pulled some trash cans out out, pushing them between herself and Elena. When Elena tried to attack again, Margot upended one of the cans, spilling the contents – empty bottles, jars, cans, food waste and genera garbage – to the pavement with a splendid crescendo of sound that sounded like a high speed train crash. Elena jumped back to avoid the avalanche of trash crashing into her. She stepped over the wreckage, closing on Margot who retreated again.
For maybe a minute, Margot dodged and retreated, avoiding the increasingly frustrated Elena, buying herself time. Elena abandoned caution and charged into Margot, who jumped to the side suddenly and swung up her knee. Elena couldn't swerve fast enough to avoid the impact. She groaned and staggered. Margot yelled, “Stop! Call it quits?”
“Never, bitch!” Elena spat, still stumbling back. “You’re not getting off that easy!”
Vic muttered sideways to me, not taking his eyes off the two women, “Margot might just beat her.”
Margot attacked. She slapped at Elena's face till Elena covered up with her hands out to defend. Margot simply switched her attack and slapped at Elena's boobs instead. Elena squealed as Margot buried her nails in her pert breasts and twisted. Elena shoved at Margot, her arms on the redhead's shoulders, trying to force her back. She succeeded. Margot stumbled but she steadied herself and sent a few punches to Elena's bare tummy. Elena gasped. She blocked the next two punches, sidestepped and Margot, trying to punch hard, found she was only punching air. She faltered.
Elena struck again, her fists hammering Margot’s side and belly. Margot gasped. I could see she was close to crying. Elena seized Margot’s blouse with her left hand, yanked it up and sent a right fist directly into Margot’s navel.
Margot backed up, her hands out, trying to defend. “No, no, no! Please no!” she begged.
Elena used short slaps to the redhead’s face and light jabbing punches to guide Margot’s retreat to a timber partition screening a loading bay. It was about five feet high and I suppose it might have blocked the wind blowing up the alley. Margot’s back hit the partition. She realized what had happened and tried to push forward, her hands groping for Elena’s face. She slapped hard, then dug her nails into Elena’s cheeks, scraping more furrows which beaded with blood.
Elena stepped back a pace or so to regroup, but not far enough for Margot to escape. Margot tried to press her attack. Again her nails gouged at Elena’s face. Elena pushed. Margot changed her target to Elena’s impressive cleavage. I swallowed hard. I looked at Malcolm who was staring glassy eyed.
Elena screamed as Margot’s nails dug deep. Margot twisted her hand. Elena squealed even louder, then Margot suddenly slumped to one knee, clutching her tummy. Elena had kneed her in the belly. Margot didn’t even try to rise. She was winded.
Elena grabbed a fistful of Margot’s hair with her left hand and hauled her up to her feet. She slapped Margot’s breasts and face with her right hand. Margot squealed. “No, no stop, please!” She tried to defend herself by pushing Elena’s hand away. Elena kneed her in the belly again.
Somehow Margot’s blouse caught on some hook on the partition. As Margot slumped to the pavement, the blouse ripped right away. Margot sobbed and tried covering her frilly bra with her hands. She tried to rise. Elena punched her in the bare spot between her skirt and her bra. She crumpled to her knees again.
Elena smirked. She was flushed from fighting and I recognized what I'd seen in Kelly and before her, in that girl Peccavi – the animal lust for victory. She ripped at Margot's bra; the strap broke, she twirled it in her hand. “Stay away from Malcolm, weak bitch!” she snarled. She turned on her heel and walked – no, strutted – over to Malcolm, rolling her hips as she walked. She hugged him round his neck, drawing his head down and kissed him deeply, rubbing her breasts against his chest.
Malcolm kissed her back. He groped her butt, squeezing her body against his. “I think I'd better take you home, Elena.”
While Elena got her bag, Malcolm walked over to us. “Can one of you guys take care of Margot? Please? Make sure she's ok, see her home please?” He was almost pleading. He obviously felt guilty. I would have, too. I agreed, and went over to where Margo lay curled up on the floor, sobbing heavily.
I texted Kelly – of course, I'd already taken a set of photos with my cell phone and sent them to her. She insisted I bring Margot back to her house, where she gently bathed her and dressed her wounds. The girls emerged from the bathroom in two of the silk kimonos Kelly loved to wear around the house. At Kelly's instruction I had lit the open fire which made the room very cozy. Kelly sat Margot on the sofa and went to the kitchen. I sat next to Margot and put my arm around her. She snuggled into my shoulder staring into the fire wordlessly.
Kelly emerged with three bowls of steaming soup and crackers. While I tended to the fire, Kelly gently fed Margot the soup. When we had finished eating and Kelly had cleared away, she sat next to Margot, hugged her gently and said softly, “Want to talk about it, sweets?” Margot burst into tears and clung to Kelly, sobbing her heart out as Kelly murmured softly in her ear.
Finally, Margot tearfully recounted what turned out to be her first serious catfight. She had indeed fought for Malcolm.
Then in answer to Kelly's question, she went on, "Yeah, I guess I held back with Malcolm. He's shy – so am I. I didn’t want to push him into anything. And now – ” She cried again. “Now that bimbo has got him. And we would have been so good for each other.”
Kelly glanced at me as the settled Margot on the couch. I followed her in to the kitchen. “We’ll take her home. And we’ll see about that bimbo.”
I was surprised. “I thought you didn’t like Margot.”
Kelly looked hard at me. “Things change, Peter. People change.”
I knew then that Kelly had won again, this time without lifting a finger, without even being at the fight. Margot was now dependent on her, one of the people who looked to her for help. In Kelly’s view, I knew, that was just where she belonged.
I had learned that Kelly viewed people as belonging to one of two classes. There were those like Margot who would come to her for help, and those like the big brunette on the beach or Alison at her home, who would beg for Kelly’s mercy – probably in vain. It was only time before Elena learned that lesson too.
***
My thanks to all my friends who helped make this a better story than I could have written especially BL the Scribbler and Laurie Breeze.
Please comment and tell me how I can improve
