Beneath her, New York City looked like a carpet of dancing lights. She landed at Kennedy, went through customs, and saw her immediately. There she stood, her dear mother, waiting for her at the gate. Val had to admit she looked quite good. Her mother had a limo waiting for them and once they were settled in the back, she opened a split of champagne and made a toast.
“Here’s to your return and to getting on with your career. I’ve made an appointment for you with a new agent and a lawyer friend of mine is going to manage our financial affairs. You still have some money from the film don’t you?”
Val nodded. She still had some money; it wasn’t much, but it had let her feel for the first time in her life that she hadn’t had to ask anyone for anything. Oh well, she could forget that. Welcome home, Valerie Rhodes. She smiled as she sipped her champagne and got off on the dazzling skyline of the city. The silence between them only lasted a minute or two.
“I can’t believe what you are wearing. And your hair! Joe has to come over tomorrow and do something before you see anyone. What do you call the way you’ve made up your eyes for goodness’ sakes? You look like death warmed over,” Anne was warmed up by then. “You are much too thin. You have absolutely no curves whatsoever, and I can see you haven’t been taking care of yourself properly,” she huffed. “Well Mummy’s here now, so not to worry.”
Val let this all go in one ear and out the other. Surprisingly enough, she found a certain amount of comfort in the familiar rhetoric.
The apartment looked beautiful and seemed so spacious after England. One of her mother’s beaux had sent an enormous bouquet of fresh flowers. Another had sent an appetizing tray of dainty sandwiches, pastries, and a bottle of Perrier Jouet. Her mother looked pleased with herself as she carried on about her beaux. At least the change of subject eased the mounting tension between them.
The piercing sounds of police sirens and the blaring of fire engine horns were overwhelming after being away from the city for so long. The doorman appeared with Val’s luggage and took it to her room. She followed him, and when she stepped through the doorway she gasped.
Her mother had framed every eight by ten glossy of her from the beginning of her career, as well as the programs, posters, and even ticket stubs from the Broadway show. Her publicity shots with Nicky covered another wall. There they were in Rome. How young they looked. She didn’t know where her mother had found half of them. It seemed like she’d found pictures of her with every celebrity she might have said hello to. Val had no idea who half of these people were or where the pictures were taken, but there was the proof looking down at her. It was as if she were visiting a shrine…looking at someone else’s life. It was cruel.
She needed something to take the edge off. She was on the verge of a meltdown and had to get through the night somehow. Frantically rummaging through her bags, she knew Kenny had hidden some Darvons and ludes somewhere to avoid getting busted by customs. Now she just had to remember where he’d put them!
She saw the Tampax container and it dawned on her—that’s where they were. Sure enough, when she pulled the container apart there were her precious pills wrapped in tin foil by Kenny himself. Relieved, she swallowed a Darvon.