Chapter 18 Appearance and Reality
“Who the fuck does she think she is?” Wendy snapped, her face taut with anger.
“What's up, Wendy?” Kelly asked, none too cordially.
“That Curzon bitch!” Wendy gestured at the back of Kim Curzon as the actress walked past our little group at the bar. “She thinks she's better than us.”
“Oh?” Fiona smiled slightly. “Maybe she is,” she continued smugly, her voice smooth as cream. “Many people would think that a professional actress, who often appears on TV, is a better…and certainly better paid…occupation than an office clerk.”
Wendy seethed. She muttered something, though under her breath so none of the rest of us could hear.
Kelly also smiled. “Fiona Burke! Are you judging? That’s a
very bad habit. ‘I who tend to judge many may criticize.” As the Bible says, ‘I should remove the beam in my own eye before removing the speck in my neighbours.’” I raised an eyebrow. Biblical quotes were the last thing I expected from my Kelly. She never ceased to surprise me.
She smiled again, having disarmed her foes, and then joined in Wendy's character assassination. “Maybe we're being snobbish, Fiona. Someone’s career, the school and college they went to…those are advantages you and I have over Wendy here, but they shouldn't matter when you’re considering the person. No, it's character that matters. But my dear,” she turned to Wendy, “you don't do yourself any favours with your dress sense. Yes this is a fancy dress party…and that skin tight black latex catsuit of yours is
definitely fancy, but it does come across as rather trashy.” Her smile broadened and she glanced sideways at me. “I had to tell Peter to restrain himself.”
I reddened. She had said no such thing. I had whistled softly when I first saw Wendy that night. Who wouldn’t have? She looked spectacular. Kelly had slapped my wrist and giggled. “Keep your eyes above your navel, dear.”
“I am, “ I had replied with a perfectly straight face. “They’re fixed firmly on her bust. That cat suit is so tight you can see her nipples. She certainly doesn't have a bra on underneath.” I broke into a grin. “But now that you mention the navel area, I think I can see the outline of her thong too.”
Kelly had giggled again and squeezed my hand. “Oh she’s a hottie, I know. Just the kind the guys would line up to fuck , but wouldn't take her home to meet the folks.” That just about summed up my view of Wendy too – hot trash – though I hoped I was more restrained than Kelly was in commenting on it.
“And Wendy dear,” Kelly resumed her commentary, her voice sweet yet dripping with malice, “you
do let your temper flare a little at times. There was that incident at the cove where I first met you…remember?” As if Wendy would forget. “You really did provoke Harriet Stowe. Peter even tells me that you and Elena Savoy fought some other girls at Wrigley Field! I've seen the photos Peter took. You were convincing winners.”
Fiona cut in. “But victory wasn't enough for you, was it Wendy?” She surreptitiously winked at Kelly, “No…after you and Elena finished those girls, you had to take a trophy each. I believe that was your idea.”
Kelly took over again. “Kim, on the other hand showed remarkable forbearance. Not only did she – successfully for a while – calm you down, but she almost stopped the whole thing before it happened. Then she had the grace to stay and help your victims while you two went off to celebrate.” She wasn't openly attacking Wendy, but praising Kim in a way that gave the same result. Wendy was livid, her face scarlet. I knew, just as Kelly and Fiona knew, that their cutting remarks would incite Wendy to lash out. For a moment I wondered if Kelly was baiting her. Kelly changed my mind about that however by continuing, “Maybe Kim
is better…at least she shows more restraint than you do.” She fixed Wendy with a steely gaze, as though daring the blonde beauty to prove her wrong.
“Why thank you for the compliments, Kelly!” Kim smiled as she suddenly appeared at Kelly’s elbow. I had no idea how much she had heard – perhaps everything from Wendy's first comment onward. I decided that I'd soon find out, given the look in Kim’s eye as she went on, “I hope I am a little more restrained than you, Wendy. I didn't have to fight my way out of trouble. But then I didn't let my big mouth get me into trouble to begin with.” The petite redhead smiled sardonically – or was that triumph? The semi darkness of the Halloween party, hosted by Ivor and Connie Gurney in their large Victorian house, made it hard to see anyone's face clearly.
It was particularly hard to see Kim's facial expression because of her makeup. I looked more closely. She was dressed in a black leather-look halter top and matching skirt but the outfit didn’t do much to flatter her. While it emphasised her bust, it also made her bare stomach seem larger than it was. Kim was an attractive woman, far slimmer than she looked in that get-up. Then again, I supposed it wasn't meant to do flatter her. It was Halloween and I was sure the outfit, together with her whitened face and eyebrows reddened, enhanced and turned up – yes, the whole package - was meant to make her look cruel, barbaric and powerful. It certainly succeeded. As Kelly had said when she first saw Kim that night “Peter, look at Kim! She's a young, sexy witch in that outfit! She's channelling Morgan Le Fay.”
I had smiled. “I thought you didn't like Arthurian legends.” I had kissed her nose. “But yes, you're right. Kim would make a great evil sorceress, just like Morgan. I can see her imprisoning and seducing some modern day Knights of the Round Table. Though personally I pictured her more as a young Lady MacBeth…equally sinister, equally powerful.”
“Shhh! Kim won't thank you for referring to ‘the Scottish play’ as they call it. And Lady MacBeth comes to a sticky end.” she giggled. “ Kim rather spoils the effect with a glass of whiskey and a cigarette in her hands.”
Kim brought me back to the present. “Oh…did I hear you rightly?” she asked, arching her darkly highlighted eyebrows. “Sometimes…often…it’s more courageous
not to resort to physical fighting than it is to brawl. Think of Gandhi… Bohnhoffer…no one says they were gutless…that was the word you used, wasn't it? But maybe you don’t know any other way. Such a pity…it’s not like you can even say you're a successful fighter. Kelly tells me Harriet Stowe had little trouble demolishing you.”
Kelly gripped my hand tightly beneath the table, and smiled. She, Fiona, Kim, Alison – most of the women in our circle – in their hearts despised Wendy – and Elena too – as gold diggers. It was only when Kelly was alone with me however, that she would vent her feelings as she had done when I told her how Wendy had beaten Lauren Fisker. “Typical trash! Thanks to Vic…who thinks with his prick…Wendy’s managed to crawl out of the gutter where she belongs. No! Don't misunderstand me! I’ve got nothing against small towns. Some of the nicest people come from them, and you find lowlife trash like Wendy everywhere. But now that she has a smattering of culture, she thinks she's sophisticated. You and I know better. She's a dumb slut.”
Right now, I could tell that Kelly relished the imperious Kim's conclusive put down of the speechless, simmering Wendy. When it came to cutting words, few were Kim’s equal.
Kim wasn’t done. She drew on her cigarette and went on, “And I know…remember, I was there…that Elena Savoy had to rescue you…twice…from those nasty bitches after the Cubs game at Wrigley Field. Both Ashley and Julie had you on the ground. If Elena hadn't helped you, they'd have owned you. You need to learn that drinking and fighting don't mix that well.”
She shrugged expressively. “But hey…maybe I'm being too critical. As I think Kelly said, we shouldn't expect as much of you as we do of those who have the advantages you lack.” She exhaled smoke dismissively in Wendy's direction and turned away. “Yes Michael…coming now.” She strutted off, knowing she'd scored heavily at Wendy's expense.
I watched the slim, elfin actress stub out her cigarette, slip her hand through Michael Tippet's arm and put her face up, inviting a kiss. Kelly squeezed my elbow gently. "Kim's flirting again. Michael’s the only unattached man in 'our set' here tonight. Kim's had her claws into him for a while. Looks like she's making progress.” Michael obliged Kim with a kiss. She averted her face and spoke, something that I didn’t hear but it made Michael smile broadly. He patted her butt. She turned, giggled and kissed him again. I turned to listen to Kelly and Fiona engage Wendy's friend Michelle in sailing club talk, effectively freezing Wendy out of the conversation. Michelle sailed socially rather than competitively, but that was more than Wendy did.
I couldn't help thinking Kelly, Fiona and Kim had gone too far in humiliating Wendy. I waved Malcolm Sergeant and Elena Savoy over. Again Elena rescued Wendy, not from losing a fight as she had at Wrigley Field, but from Kelly’s and Fiona's barbed tongues. Kelly may have despised Elena as much as she did Wendy, but she knew that she needed a different way to prise Malcolm and Elena apart. She had already discovered that belittling Elena, as she had just belittled Wendy, only made Malcolm protective. She had also found – as we all had – that Elena was a quick learner; that she quickly picked up a smattering of Malcolm's interests. Elena was far removed from the overawed girl whose ignorance of films and theatre had been exposed by Vic a few months ago. Mind you, I still wouldn’t have wanted to introduce Elena to my parents.
Elena certainly proved she knew her theatre. Kim returned with Michael – Malcolm and Michael were old friends and Elena engaged Kim in a discussion of Oscar Wilde's plays. Kim had been a leading lady in a season of Wilde's comedies of manners –
The Ideal Husband,
A Woman of No Importance and
The Importance of Being Earnest. Like all actresses, Kim liked to talk about the stage and her own roles. To our surprise, Wendy joined in, to Kim’s obvious displeasure.
“It's as though Wendy knows about these plays,” Kelly whispered an aside to me. “Vic's theatre going has obviously brushed off on his mistress.”
“She can thank Elena for bringing her into the conversation.” I tried to be neutral, I didn't want to condemn Wendy, but praising her would only bring down Kelly's wrath.
“No, there's no love lost there,” continued Kelly. “Elena’s using Wendy to show she's a better person, that she has tact and consideration. She wants Wendy's support when she'll need it in the future. They’re not friends. Those women don't have friends…they only have allies.”
A few moments later, Kelly waved to some newcomers. “Peter! It’s Kate and James! Come and say hello.” We walked off to meet Kelly's friends.
And so the evening went for the next half hour or so, much like most parties – eating, drinking and small talk. I went back to the bar to get a round of drinks. . The Gurneys had built their bar at one end of what had once been the ‘morning room’. Marjorie Hely-Hutchinson had said this type of room had been common in bigger homes in the period. It was designed as a less formal entertaining room with big windows to trap as much sun as possible in winter, but which could be shuttered to keep out the cold at night. Carefully planted deciduous trees kept the heat out in summer. Ivor had knocked out the wall separating the morning room from the main ‘sitting’ room, replacing it with an archway. It still partly divided the two rooms but allowed a large party like this to mingle in a bigger space.
I was stunned to see Violet Tennant talking with Wendy in a nook behind the archway, since Violet still mouthed vengeance on Wendy's only real friend – which I still took Elena to be, despite Kelly’s words to the contrary – for 'stealing' Malcolm from Violet's sister Margot and then fighting Margot. Violet held grudges.
I detoured and loitered nearby to listen to them. If they glanced in my direction, my excuse would be that I wanted to greet Violet, to whom I hadn’t spoken that evening. I heard Violet say, “Don't take that crap from them! Just because they’re paid more than you, doesn’t make them better! Look at Malcolm…Elena's boyfriend. He’s a lawyer, but not the traditional family lawyer who does your wills and your real estate. I suppose corporate law is better than ambulance chasing, but it’s still just advising companies on how to get away with cheating on their taxes so you and I have to pay more. Then there’s Kelly Haldane, whose occupation is to persuade people to buy stuff they don't need and can't afford and which is largely imported and doing people out of work. 'Marketing'…crap!” She suddenly spotted me. “Oh hello, Peter! I'm sorry, I shouldn't bad mouth Kelly…she’s your girlfriend… but at least your business makes something useful.”
I smiled. “It's ok, Vi. Sometimes I feel the same way,” I encouraged her, wanting to see where this ended.
“And Wendy…don't think that just because they say they’re more 'cultured' than you, that they’re better either. At least popular music – whether it’s rock, country and western or whatever. – doesn’t need subsidies from the government. Not that I mind my taxes going there,” Violet raised her voice a few octaves, “but Kim Curzon…for example…shouldn’t think she’s any better than any clerk in a government office! She’s a public servant! She couldn't hold a real acting job…I mean, one that’s not on the public teat! She's not good enough! The theatre trust is always appealing for government and corporate sponsorship, always having fund-raisers.”
I looked round to see why Violet had raised her voice when speaking about Kim. I stifled a smile when I saw Kim and Michael holding hands, just a few feet away. In his other hand Michael held a tray of empty glasses. He had had the same idea as me, to get some refills. But Violet's comments had stopped them. Violet had some scheme in mind, but what?
Violent continued to Wendy, “So she shouldn't think she's any better than you. She has no right to insult you.”
“But she does!” Wendy was furious. Vi had wound her up well. “Behind our backs, she says we're trailer trash. Hell, not even behind our backs if you want to read between the lines a little!”
Kim whirled, eyeballing Wendy. “I heard that! You're wrong! I don't say it behind your back, and you don’t need to read between the lines to understand this!” She thrust her face toward Wendy though she still stood by Michael. “I'll make it very clear. You…and all your kind…are trailer trash! Nothing less, and sure as hell nothing more! You and Elena were disgusting at Wrigley Field, fighting those two women. They didn’t do you any harm…just asked you to be quieter. You were both drunk and you went out of your way to pick a fight with them, and then to humiliate them!” Michael slid his hand round Kim's waist. I was right, she was quite slim. The outfit really didn't do her justice. He squeezed her and whispered something in her ear.
“And you're no different, Kim Curzon,” Violet shot back. “You picked a fight with me! Yes, Wendy,” Vi turned to the blonde, “this ‘sophisticated lady’ couldn't control her 'Irish temper' so we had a brawl at a garden party. I'll be honest, she beat me. But she's no better than you and don’t let her tell you she is!”
Kim glared at Violet without speaking. She didn't have to say anything to remind Violet of how comprehensively she had beaten her at the garden party, with Kelly and me watching. Kim snuggled briefly into Michael's side. Again Michael whispered something to her. She kissed him.
Wendy looked at Kim, her face even redder.. “And you call me trailer trash! Didn't I hear Kelly Haldane and Fiona Burke sing your praises? How restrained and how well mannered you are? You're a damn hypocrite, that’s what you are! How dare you call me trailer trash!” She glared at the smaller redhead.
“I’m telling it like it is! You
are trash! You were drunk…you fought in public! At least when I beat Vi, I did it in private.” Kim slipped away from Michael and stepped closer to Wendy. “And I
did beat her…beat her badly…so you better watch out! It’s not because I'm gutless that I don't fight. It’s because…yes, as Kelly said…I know how control my temper.” Her nose curled as though she was smelling something vile. “Trash like you turns my stomach!”
“You stuck up bitch!” Wendy hissed. I was surprised she hadn’t slapped Kim already.
“You should learn some manners!” To my further surprise, and making a lie out of her remark of only a moment ago, Kim's hand lashed out, striking Wendy's cheek hard, so hard her hair whipped into her eyes. Kim, swinging her body from her hips, sent another slap with her other hand that struck Wendy's other cheek. Wendy stumbled back. The diminutive actress stepped up her attack with strong swinging slaps that sent the blonde reeling backward before her. Despite her small size – at five feet three and maybe a hundred fifteen pounds, she was two inches shorter and at least ten pounds lighter than Wendy – Kim’s slaps were powerful. She had learned to put her whole body behind the blows. She reminded me of Isabella Beaverbrook – Bethany’s sister – in the way she fought, and just like Isabella in her fight against Kelly, her tactics worked. Wendy retreated and Kim chased her, firing slaps that, despite Wendy's best efforts, broke through again and again.
“I didn't think Kim would have much trouble with Wendy,” Fiona smiled at me as we watched the fight unfold.
“Don't write the blonde off just yet.” Kelly appeared beside me. “She has some real animal cunning,” she added, condemning Wendy with faint praise.
“She'll show you she can fight.” Elena joined us, supporting her friend.
Kim drove Wendy back slowly. Some blows Wendy deflected, blocking them with her arms but if she blocked one slap, Kim's other arm seemed to strike even harder. Wendy winced and groaned as the slaps thudded home. She needed a circuit breaker, but Kim wasn't giving her one. After a moment however, Wendy seized her own. She ducked and when Kim swung her arm down to strike, it hit the top of Wendy's head in a glancing blow that skidded off Wendy’s skull. Seizing her chance, Wendy fired an uppercut into the pit of Kim's tummy.
Kim gasped as the air was forced out of her lungs, then groaned as the pain registered. She staggered back, breathing hard. Wendy counterattacked with light, well aimed jabs at Kim's sides and midriff. Kim retreated, defending grimly. She blocked few of Wendy's punches at first, gasping when the blonde hit her again and again. Wendy pressed her attack with a harder left right combo. Kim avoided the left but the right slammed into her side. She staggered, coughing, spluttering up saliva. She broke away.
“What did I say?” Elena looked hard at Fiona.
Wendy attacked again with another flurry of punches, Kim deflected most this time, but those that broke through thudded home and each elicited a gasp or a groan. It looked like Wendy was taking the advantage. Perhaps Kim realised this, because she suddenly changed her tactics and kicked out at Wendy's thigh, hitting it hard. Wendy stumbled and again Kim broke away.
The blonde didn’t let up however. Limping, she closed on her foe. Kim was lighter on her feet and she moved more quickly as she traded space for time. She began to regroup and avoided more of Wendy's punches, retaliating with a few of her own. Wendy ducked and weaved, dodging and parrying, firing her own fists at the redhead. Again her punches broke through Kim's defenses and again Kim groaned and gasped. Kim kicked again, hitting Wendy's thigh in much the same spot. It seemed to slow Wendy or at least spoil her rhythm and within seconds, the two girls were trading punches.
Till now the fight had been even, with one girl then the other taking a brief advantage, but neither had been able to maintain that advantage for long. Now the two seemed to settle down to trading blows. I looked at each of them. Kim's face was flushed. She was breathing heavily. She had been hit and her leather halter was askew but she still moved well, more freely, dodging or deflecting more of Wendy's punches than Wendy was able to dodge of hers. Kim's blows thudded home more often and, it seemed from Wendy's groans, landed harder.
Breathing even more heavily – her breath rasped loudly enough for us all to hear – Wendy began to defend more. Her face was more than flushed, it was beet red from the beating she had suffered. She was on defensive, concentrating on blocking or deflecting Kim's heavy punches. She was starting to succeed – fewer of Kim’s blows hit – but at the cost of almost abandoning her own attack. Kim kept up the pressure, sending a barrage of hard punches at Wendy’s body. Wendy avoided most of them but the few that broke through hammered her middle. It looked like Kim had recovered faster and with it had regained the imitative.
It was Wendy's turn to back away. Getting some distance between herself and her enemy, making use of her slightly longer reach, she again fired punches which hit – and hit hard to judge by Kim's groans – but failed to stem Kim's steady slogging attack. Rather, she was shepherding the blonde back into a corner formed by some tables and chairs.
Wendy gasped when her butt hit a table. She glanced round, taking her eyes off Kim to see where she was. She whitened visibly, even with her cheeks reddened by the dozen or more slaps that had punished her face, I could see the colour drain when she realised Kim had her trapped. She hadn't quite turned back to face Kim again when the smaller woman slugged her hard in her lower stomach. Wendy clutched her gut and folded over, groaning.
“That was effective…if a tad vicious,” Michael smiled. His new girl – if that was what Kim was – was doing well. What was more, she knew it. Her face was flushed with excitement, her eyes flashed brightly, her posture and her decisive movements spoke of confidence. I'd summed her up right. Tonight she was a cruel, barbaric, powerful sorceress. She seemed to have already ensnared a willing Michael and now she had trapped a still struggling Wendy too. It wouldn't be long before her clutches would close on the blonde. I relished the thought of a begging, pleading Wendy.
Kim returned to slapping Wendy's face – it was an easy target. Wendy yelped as the slaps rained down. She gave up trying to deflect or dodge them. Instead she stood at her full height, trying to punch it out. She couldn't. Boxed by the tables, she couldn’t stand back and make use of her longer reach. Moreover, trapped in a confined space, she was unable to weave and avoid Kim's heavy punches. She deflected some of them, but many more blows thudded into her body than she was able to score on the actress.
Again Kim slugged Wendy hard in the stomach. Again Wendy folded, gasping, this time. She held her gut. Kim returned to slapping at Wendy's face. Wendy lunged forward, her head still down, but Kim sidestepped neatly to avoid the head butt. The move allowed Wendy too to sidestep the other way and escape from Kim’s trap, but Kim still had the advantage which she proved by dancing round Wendy, firing punches.
“She's softening Wendy up,” Michael added, rather unnecessarily. He was clearly enjoying himself.
“And doing it so well too.” Fiona smiled. “See…Wendy has no answers. She's outclassed.”
It seemed Fiona was right. Again I wondered how long it would be before Wendy would grovel for mercy at Kim's feet.
Wendy could still defend though, and she did so. She dodged, she weaved, she parried, but she didn't seem to be able to attack. Kim stepped forward, launching a big blow, clearly wanting to finish the blonde off. Wendy dodged. Kim hissed in frustration and lashed out with another punch, this time with her left. Wendy ducked it and as the redhead’s fist sailed over her head, stretching Kim out, the blonde fired a blow to Kim's midriff. That one hit – hard. Kim, completely surprised, staggered backwards, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
Wendy followed her success with several more punches. The first couple thudded home. Kim gagged and coughed but she quickly regrouped and blocked or parried Wendy's next few blows. She tried to counter attack but Wendy frustrated her by standing back, just out of range. She fired another punch or two of her own, keeping Kim at bay, forcing her back.
Kim tried another angle, endeavoring to duck under Wendy's punches and close to get within reach of Wendy but again she failed. Wendy stepped back and fired jabs at Kim’s head. At first the punches merely kept Kim back but then Wendy stepped forward and now her blows began to hit home on Kim’s shoulders and chest. Kim too stepped in and slipped inside Wendy's reach. She kicked out. Wendy turned and the kick just kissed her side without doing any damage.
The missed kick off-balanced Kim for a moment and Wendy used that opportunity to send an uppercut to Kim's midsection. It thudded home. Kim staggered. She groaned and her body went slack for a moment. Her eyes wide, her face even paler than normal, Kim showed pain, and perhaps fear, for the first time. She tried to regroup and for a moment she succeeded, deflecting the next punch and dodging a third, but then Wendy’s fourth blow slammed home into her stomach again. A spray of spittle erupted from her open mouth and she stumbled backwards, gagging, a look of horrified surprise on her face.
Wendy didn't give her any time. She was onto Kim, jabbing punches at the actress’s sides and stomach. Kim defended doggedly but less effectively with each passing moment. She was tired and hurt, gasping for breath even when she avoided Wendy's attacks. The blows to her belly made it painful to breathe, and lack of breath was slowing her movements, making more vulnerable as Wendy’s blows slammed home more and more often.
Kim still tried to fight back but Wendy dismissed her attempted attacks contemptuously now, dodging or deflecting them with ease. I was amazed how the fight had suddenly turned around. Kim was running on empty and also running out of room. With each blow she dodged or avoided, she stepped back toward the wall at the side of the archway. She tried to escape to the sides but she was too slow and Wendy blocked her without difficulty.
Kim's face whitened, just as Wendy’s had done, when her back hit the wall. She gulped. Her anguished, horrified look told the world she knew that she was now where Wendy had been a few minutes earlier, but more tired, more hurt and more damaged than her foe had been. She looked as though she was panicking – her eyes wide, her movements shaky and twitchy as though she had no idea what to do.
Wendy allowed herself a smile. “Not so tough!” she sneered.
That seemed to shake Kim out of her stupor. She stepped forward and swung a sudden punch at Wendy. It hit – the blonde had obviously not anticipated another attack. Wendy staggered. For a moment, Kim brightened. She had driven Wendy back a step, opened a gap and now she could escape. She slipped to her side.
Wendy's fist slammed into her ribs. Kim gagged, stumbled back and hit the wall again. . Wendy's other fist thudded into her stomach. Kim groaned. She swayed on her feet. “Now I've got you, bitch!” Wendy smirked, but she didn’t drop her guard this time.
Kim's face was bone white, her eyes wide, her mouth open. It was clear the actress feared Wendy was right. Kim was all but consumed by panic. She deflected another punch, then doubled up as Wendy's knee slammed into her lower gut. She swayed again, more precariously. She shook, then when Wendy's fist powered deep into her stomach, her legs gave out. She slid to her knees, clutching both hands to her battered middle.
Kim knelt there groaning, her entire body shaking, her makeup streaked by runnels of tears. Her ruined outfit no longer spoke of barbaric power but of utter, painful defeat. She groaned again, and then again with every heave of her chest and every rasp of her throat as she tried to suck in air. She tried to speak, or at least her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Wendy stood back. “Get up bitch!” It took Kim a couple more painful breaths, but at last she managed to rise shakily to her feet. Wendy looked round. “Violet, go get me a double shot of vodka.” She glared at Kim. “You're not going anywhere.” Kim didn’t look like she intended to flee. She seemed grateful just to be able to stand, leaning heavily against the wall. Slowly she began to regain some of her colour.
I wondered what Wendy wanted – a celebratory drink? I thought she'd be more likely to ask for champagne. I didn't have to wait long however. Vi came back and passed the drink over. “Take it Kim!” Wendy ordered, holding it out to the still panting redhead.
Kim looked bemused, and shook her head weakly. Her wide eyes stared up at Wendy. “Please…” she managed to utter.
“Drink it, Kim!” Wendy hissed. “Drink it or I'll slam your gut so hard you'll never have kids! You bad mouth me…you look down on me because I'm a clerk…you condemn me for fighting…” She was working her herself up into a white hot anger again. “You have the
nerve to call me trailer trash, and all the time you fight just as much as I do!”
Kim's face lost what little colour it had regained. Still in fearful confusion, her fingers trembled as she reached for the glass. She looked at Wendy, as if seeking mercy. She found none. She tried to take the glass to her lips. “Drink it Kim!” commanded Wendy again. “Drink it, then give Vi the glass.”
Kim's fingers shook as she tried to sip. She spilt some of the vodka. It ran down her chin. “Drink it!” Wendy repeated.
Kim mewled piteously, “I'm…trying!” It was all she could do to raise her arm, let alone hold her hand steady.
Vi whispered something in Wendy's ear.
“Give me the glass!” the blonde scolded her. “You pathetic failure…you can't act, can't fight, can't even drink!” She snatched the still almost full glass out of Kim’s hand and, with her own free hand, grabbed Kim by the hair. The redhead whimpered as Wendy forced her head back. “Now drink it!” She held the glass up to Kim's lips. Kim obediently opened her mouth and Wendy poured the vodka in. When she was satisfied the actress had swallowed all the spirit, she handed Vi the empty glass. Then, turning back to Kim, she drove her right fist into Kim's stomach. It seemed to bury itself there.
Kim shuddered all the way to her toes. She slumped back against the wall, her mouth open in a silent scream. Wendy took a second or two, as if to aim her best shot, before she sent her left crashing into Kim's stomach as well. The actress’s legs gave out again. She dropped to her knees. Her face showed her pain, her terror, then finally her disbelief as she curled over and suddenly vomited up not just the vodka, but everything she'd eaten and drunk at the party
Wendy stepped up again. “So much for you, Ms Kim. You can't hold your liquor!” she sneered, and prodded Kim's side as the actress knelt, hunched over and moaning in pain. Kim was shaking so much that she couldn't even kneel. She dropped to all fours. She vomited a little more, then shuddered. Sobbing, groaning, she hung her head.
Michael rushed over and crouched beside her. “Leave her! Leave her alone!” he yelled up at Wendy furiously. “You beat her fair and square but that…what you did…was beyond all limits. It was…,” he seemed lost for words, “…criminal!” He held the stricken redhead in his arms. “Kim, sweetie? Do you need a doctor? Let me take you to the ER.”
Kim groaned something. She couldn't even speak. She was clearly battling hideous pain, and fighting not to throw up yet again. She shook her head, then again when Michael repeated his suggestion.
Kelly walked off as others stared in disbelief. “How could she do that?” was one comment.
“Michael’s right!” Fiona Burke rounded on Wendy. “What you did was criminal! You’d already destroyed Kim! You didn't need that last disgusting thing. Look at her, humiliated.”
“Kim got what was coming to her,” Wendy snarled. “She started it! I finished it”
“What you did was totally savage!” another girl – I didn't know her name – replied.
Vi came to Wendy's defense. “Kim would be just as brutal if she'd won. I know.” She turned to Wendy. “Let me get you a drink.” She grinned nastily. “To drink this time.”
I went and got a chair from a few feet away. Michael helped Kim into it. Kelly came back with Connie Gurney. I'd forgotten she was a nurse. “Michael! Peter! Help Connie take Kim over to the couch." We did so. We left Connie feeling all Kim's ribs for breaks and checking her condition generally. Kim still couldn't speak, only wince and groan when Connie touched her.
I went back to the group. Wendy was still angrily defiant. “I don’t need to justify what I did and I’m sure as hell not going to apologize for it! The stuck up bitch got what was coming to her!” It struck me then, that Kim's outfit and makeup had made her appear cruel, barbaric and powerful but that was all it was- appearance. Wendy had proved just now that she really was cruel, barbaric – and powerful too.
I slipped my arm around Kelly. “Well, Vi got what she wanted. She can't beat Kim herself, so she set Wendy up to fight for her.”
Kelly smiled knowingly. “How long did it take you to work that out?” She kissed me. “Come with me. I want a quiet word with Michael.” We went over to where he was kneeling next to Kim and Connie. “Michael? A second please?” Kelly asked. He got up and came to stand a few feet away from Kim, obviously reluctant to leave her side.
“Michael, are you able to look after Kim tonight? Take her home? We can take her if you wish, but she'll need some care and reassurance...and not the sort most guys would give her either. Not the sort Wendy would want,” she added pointedly.
He nodded, “I know what you mean. We'll be ok. I'll take her to her apartment…and I'll sleep on the couch.”
“Good…and we'll be round in the morning, with some breakfast for you both.” Kelly ended the conversation.
As always my thanks to those who helped me, this time special thanks to the Scribbler and to Kimberleythesp ,the original of my character Kim who once again posted a photo of herself that inspired me . Again I must say the real Kim is a much nicer person than the character about whom I’ve written.
All rights reserved, no part of this publication may be reproduced stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic mechanical photocopying or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the writer. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages
