Joan & Bill

a bit from my published novel

(Here's a random bit from my published novel THE JOAN CRAWFORD MURDERS, for fun)

The phone rang. She woke up. “Goddam! Why am I on the floor? That must have been some party. Oh, my head!” She picked up the phone but it had stopped ringing, so she washed her hands, popped some aspirin and fixed herself a drink. While she washed her hands again, the phone rang again. She grabbed it.

“You're speaking to a star!”

“Cranberry! You get to be Joan Crawford again! You get … ”

“Bill!” It was Joan’s oldest friend, the ex-star, Billy Haines, who helped her start out in the silent days. “Bill!” Joan shifted the heavy metal telephone to her other ear as she began to rub freesia glycerin on her elbows. “Is that you? Bless you! How dear of you to jingle-ling me, here! How's my favorite fairy dust? How's your hubby, Jimmy? How are my favorite Hollywood homosexuals?”

Bill Haines said, “Oh we're fine, we’re … ”

Joan cut him off. “WAIT a minute! What did you say? I get to be Joan Crawford again? Bill! You know I'm Joan Crawford - even when I sleep! What the hell are you trying to trick me up with, now. You should see me! I'm gorgeous! I lost ten pounds just for this picture! For my fans!”

Bill gasped. “Ten? From where? Where would you have ten pounds to lose?

Did you cut your legs off?”

“Everywhere - but here.” She grabbed one of the stiff jutting cones of her padded bra.

“You were a bit of a dumpling when you first came to town. With big beautiful peepers! And you weren’t Joan Crawford yet.”

“I'm always Joan Crawford!” She popped a mint and loudly crunched it between her great porcelain teeth.

Bill chuckled. “What I meant was, I remember when you were just called Miss MGM. And now you're back at that studio after all these years! So you get to be Joan Crawford again - MGM's creation. MGM'S … "

“Hold on, I want to change my ring. There. Are you still there? Oh look at this ring! It's just gorgeous! Bill? You there?”

“Yep.”

“Now what did you say?”

Bill attempted to continue, “You were … "

“MGM's creation? Damn you! You put it that way and you make me sound like Boris Karloff in somebody else's wig! Joan Crawford ran right out of these gates ten years ago like it was a prison break! I got away from those goons! I got away!”

“Oh, they love you at MGM,” Bill quickly injected. “I heard … "

Joan interrupted, “The henchmen were very sweet when I came back �" for this �" for this comeback. Idiot starlets were waving at me. The welcome back banner they put up was cheap, but it looked okay for the photos and I suppose that's all that counts. At least in Tinseltown.”

“I called the house and they said you've totally moved into your dressing room. What's going on?”

“I’m living here, now, and I’m not budging!” Joan sighed. “I need to concentrate to make a good picture. There's too many distractions at home. The last time I was there I was caught up on the roof in a fistfight with a lawyer.”

“Lawsuit?”

“No. It was midnight. He was a date.”

“How'd you manage a fist fight up on the roof?”

Joan explained, “Well, we started yelling on the balcony. I went up to the roof and he was nipping at my heels, the lousy b*****d.”

Bill gasped. “How do you get from your balcony to your roof? That's impossible!”

“Not when you're damn mad! So, I climbed up the wall, of course. What was impressive was that a fat lawyer could do it, too.”

Bill asked, “But - the roof! You could have fallen!”

“Oh pfff. If you start sliding there's always the gutters at the edge. Speaking of almost getting killed �" can you believe my life?