The Invitation(88)

As they make their way back toward the yacht, leaving the centre of town for the quieter streets that lead to the marina, they see an odd triptych of figures before them, stumbling in the same direction. Cast in darkness, their appearance is sinister, but as Hal, Stella and Gaspari draw closer they reveal themselves in the weak light of a streetlamp. It is, Hal sees, Earl Morgan – supporting or perhaps supported by two women, his arms about their shoulders, his head hanging down in front. His companions have that peculiar synthetic beauty common to women of a certain trade, or at least to those that prosper from it. Tight, glittery gowns and high shoes. From an angle, if one squinted slightly, they could be film stars or fashion models. But there is a hardness to them that speaks of rougher experience.

One of the girls, hearing the approaching footfalls behind them, starts and turns about. When she sees them she gives a little exclamation. Morgan and the other girl follow her lead. Morgan blinks at them, stupidly. Then recognition dawns and he smiles widely, slurring a greeting to them. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asks, sounding genuinely bemused.

‘We’re going back to the boat.’ Hal tells him, stepping forward. ‘Same as you, I’m sure.’

‘Oh no,’ Morgan shakes his head, grins. ‘No, no. I’m going to a party with my friends here. You could come if you’d like.’

‘No thank you.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Morgan shrugs. ‘But let me introduce you. This is …’ He gestures to the first woman, stops, and giggles. ‘I’ve forgotten.’

‘Federica,’ she supplies.

‘And …’ He turns to the other.

‘Bianca.’

‘We met in the Casino,’ Morgan says earnestly. ‘Lemme tell you, these ladies know a bit about baccarat.’ He slings an arm around the one called Federica, who insinuates herself against him. Then the other girl makes a little pantomime of being left out, and with a laugh he wraps his other arm about her.

‘Hal,’ Stella says quietly, turning to him.

‘Yes?’

‘I think that we should try to get him back to the boat. Without any fuss.’

‘Indeed,’ Gaspari murmurs. ‘If a photographer gets hold of this it will be a great scandal.’ He looks behind them at the dark, empty street. ‘Thank goodness this is not Cannes – that is one thing to be grateful for. But it won’t take them long.’

‘All right.’ Hal walks up to the trio. The girls eye him.

‘Who is he?’ the one called Bianca asks. ‘He is a famous actor, too?’

‘I’m nobody,’ he tells her, baldly. ‘I’m poor.’

‘Oh.’ Her gaze slides away, disinterested.

‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ Hal says to them both, ‘I’d like to have a quick word with my friend here, in private.’

A lopsided grin from Morgan. And then in a childlike, wheedling tone, he says: ‘But right now? We’re having a good time, you see …’

‘Please,’ Hal says, with a smile. ‘It’s about something important. I—’ he improvises. ‘I need to ask your advice on something.’

‘Oh.’ He can see that Morgan, despite his stupefaction, is flattered by this appeal to his wisdom. ‘Well, all right … but for a few seconds. I don’t want to let these two get away.’

They aren’t going anywhere, Hal thinks. And that is part of the problem.

He draws Morgan to one side. The man smells terrible: stale sweat and alcohol, very possibly sex. Hal takes an involuntary step back.

‘Well,’ Morgan says, impatiently, ‘what is it then?’

‘I’d like some advice …’ Hal thinks, quickly. ‘About … acting.’

‘Acting?’ Morgan looks bemused. ‘I thought you were …’ he appears to search through the fug of alcohol for anything he knows about Hal. ‘A writer, something like that.’

‘Well, yes … but that’s only because I haven’t been able to make it as an actor yet.’

‘Ah.’ Morgan nods sagely. ‘It’s hard for me, though …’

‘Why?’

‘I’ve always been famous – since I was a boy. Almost sixty films.’ As he speaks, Hal glances over and sees that Gaspari is talking to the two girls. There is a bit of gesturing, something that looks like an intense negotiation, and then, with a reluctant look back at their drunken date, the girls sidle away.

‘Did you hear me?’

Hal turns quickly back to Morgan. ‘Oh, I’m sorry – no.’

‘I was saying that Crawford robbed me of the Oscar, in 1950. Everyone thinks it was some sort of fix.’

‘Oh,’ Hal says. And then, unable to resist. ‘I didn’t realize you were nominated.’

Morgan frowns. ‘No – I wasn’t. But that was a fix too, of course.’

‘Of course,’ Hal says, quickly, soothingly. Stella and Gaspari have approached, without the two girls, and he turns to them. ‘Shall we go back to the yacht?’

For the first time, Morgan realizes that the girls have disappeared. ‘Where have they gone?’ he asks, forlornly. ‘My friends?’

‘Oh,’ Gaspari says. ‘Unfortunately they were called to another engagement.’