She watched the blood-red sun slowly drown in the distant water, and darkness fell. She wished that David would hurry.
An hour passed, then two, and the air became chilled. She sat in the car, still and quiet. She watched the huge dead-white moon float into the sky. She listened to the night sounds all around her and she said to herself, David is coming.
Jill sat there all night and, in the morning, when the sun began to stain the horizon, she started the car and drove home to Hollywood.
24
Jill sat in front of her dressing table and studied her face in the mirror. She saw a barely perceptible wrinkle at the corner of her eye and frowned. It’s unfair, she thought. A man can completely let himself go. He can have gray hair, a pot-belly and a face like a road map, and no one thinks anything of it. But let a woman get one tiny wrinkle… She began to apply her makeup. Bob Schiffer, Hollywood’s top makeup artist had taught her some of his techniques. Jill put on a pan-stick base instead of the powder base that she had once used. Powder dried the skin, while the pan stick kept it moist. Next, she concentrated on her eyes, the makeup under the lower lids three or four shades lighter than her other makeup, so that the shadows were softened. She rubbed in a small amount of eye shadow to give her eyes more color, then carefully applied false eyelashes over her own lashes, tilting them at the outer edges at a forty-five-degree angle. She brushed some Duo adhesive on her own outer lashes and joined them with the false lashes, making the eyes look larger. To give the lashes a fuller look, she drew fine dots on her lower eyelid beneath her own lashes. After that, Jill applied her lipstick, then powdered her lips before applying a second coat of lipstick. She applied a blusher to her cheeks and dusted her face with powder, avoiding the areas around her eyes where the powder would accentuate the faint wrinkles.
Jill sat back in her chair and studied the effect in the mirror. She looked beautiful. Someday, she would have to resort to the tape trick, but thank God that was still years away. Jill knew of older actresses who used the trick. They fastened tiny pieces of Scotch tape to their skin just below the hairline. Attached to these tapes were threads which they tied around their heads and concealed beneath their hair. The result was to pull the slackened skin of their faces taut, giving the effect of a face lift without the expense and pain of surgery. A variation was also used to disguise their sagging breasts. A piece of tape attached to the breast on one end and to the firmer flesh higher on the chest on the other provided a simple temporary solution to the problem. Jill’s breasts were still firm.
She finished combing her soft, black hair, took one final look in the mirror, glanced at her watch and realized that she would have to hurry.
She had an interview for “The Toby Temple Show.”
25
Eddie Berrigan, the casting director for Toby’s show, was a married man. He had made arrangements to use a friend’s apartment three afternoons a week. One of the afternoons was reserved for Berrigan’s mistress and the other two afternoons were reserved for what he called “old talent” and “new talent.”
Jill Castle was new talent. Several buddies had told Eddie that Jill gave a fantastic “trip around the world” and wonderful head. Eddie had been eager to try her. Now, a part in a sketch had come up that was right for her. All the character had to do was look sexy, say a few lines and exit.
Jill read for Eddie and he was satisfied. She was no Kate Hepburn, but the role didn’t call for one. “You’re in,” he said.
“Thank you, Eddie.”
“Here’s your script. Rehearsal starts tomorrow morning, ten o’clock sharp. Be on time, and know your lines.”
“Of course.” She waited.
“Er—how about meeting me this afternoon for a cup of coffee?”
Jill nodded.
“A friend of mine has an apartment at ninety-five thirteen Argyle. The Allerton.”
“I know where it is,” Jill said.
“Apartment Six D. Three o’clock.”
Rehearsals went smoothly. It was going to be a good show. That week’s talent included a spectacular dance team from Argentina, a popular rock and roll group, a magician who made everything in sight disappear and a top vocalist. The only one missing was Toby Temple. Jill asked Eddie Berrigan about Toby’s absence. “Is he sick?”
Eddie snorted. “He’s sick like a fox. The peasants rehearse while old Toby has himself a ball. He’ll show up Saturday to tape the show, and then split.”
Toby Temple appeared on Saturday morning, breezing into the studio like a king. From a corner of the stage, Jill watched him make his entrance, followed by his three stooges, Clifton Lawrence and a couple of old-time comics. The spectacle filled Jill with contempt. She knew all about Toby Temple. He was an egomaniac who, according to rumor, bragged that he had been to bed with every pretty actress in Hollywood. No one ever said no to him. Oh, yes, Jill knew about the Great Toby Temple.
The director, a short, nervous man named Harry Durkin, introduced the cast to Toby. Toby had worked with most of them. Hollywood was a small village, and the faces soon became familiar. Toby had not met Jill Castle before. She looked beautiful in a beige linen dress, cool and elegant.
“What are you doing, honey?” Toby asked.
“I’m in the astronaut sketch, Mr. Temple.”
He gave her a warm smile and said, “My friends call me Toby.”
The cast started to work. The rehearsal went unusually well, and Durkin quickly realized why. Toby was showing off for Jill. He had laid every other girl in the show, and Jill was a new challenge.