Glamorama

Glamorama Page 129

Another long pause on Bentley's part, during which he tosses back what's left of the chilled rum and gathers his thoughts. "Well, then," he asks, "can I... watch?"

"Er, no."

"He was looking through your purse, Jamie," Bentley says, immediately sober, pointing a finger at me.

"Hey, I was looking for the coke," I say.

"Jesus, Victor," she says, reaching into a jacket pocket. "Here. You don't need to go through my things." But the annoyance lasts only a millisecond because she's waving back at Iris Palmer and Honor Fraser, while Bentley bows his head, raising his empty glass.

"Iris looks fabulous," Jamie murmurs.

"How do you and Mr. Ward know each other, Jamie?" Bentley asks, leaning over. "And I'll leave him alone-I promise. It's just that I was flirting with Harry Nuttall all evening and then I had my sights set on Robbie but it's all just been intolerably arid-" And then, squinting into the crowd, "Oh my god, who invited Zandra Rhodes?"

"We went to Camden College together, Bentley," Jamie says. "However, I graduated." She turns to me. "Did you?"

"Oh, that's right," Bentley says. "Bobby told me that."

"Who's Bobby, baby?" I'm asking, trying to get her attention.

Bentley suddenly pretends to be looking around, "busying himself," his eyes widening exaggeratedly, and over his shoulder the Japanese guy keeps staring in such a strange way that it's starting to cause me major discomfort and maybe Jamie notices this too because she leans in, blocking the view, and kisses me softly on the lips and maybe that's an answer to the Bobby inquiry. While I'm staring into Jamie's face-her expression saying basically "hey, it's okay"-Bentley dramatically clears his throat and Jamie pulls back, almost shamefully. Again I'm left staring at the Japanese guy.

"So Victor," Bentley says, staring at me with all the subtlety of a raven, "what do you think of London?"

"Phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust, I see."

"How tongue-in-chic."

"Hey Joaquin, hey man," I call out, waving Joaquin Phoenix over, and he's dressed in a brown Prada suit and has his hair swept back and he shakes my hand and, recognizing Jamie, kisses her on the cheek and nods briefly at Bentley.

"Hey, how's this party, man?" I'm asking. "Wild, huh?"

"It's very... unstuffy," Joaquin says, giving the party behind him a cursory look. "I kind of like it. Better than last night, huh?"

"Yeah man," I'm saying. "So what are you doing in town, man?" Joaquin flinches, pretends he didn't hear me.

"What?"

"What are you doing in town, man?" I ask, staring up into his face.

"Uh, Victor, man," Joaquin says. "I told you last night I'm shooting that John Hughes movie in Hampstead."

"Oh," I say. "Yeah, yeah, that's right."

"Did you two see each other last night?" Bentley asks, suddenly paying close attention, emphasis on all the wrong places.

"We were at Annabel's," Joaquin sighs, scratching at a sideburns "It was a party for Jarvis Cocker that Catrina Skepper threw." He takes a sip from a bottle of Tsingtao.

"Man, I guess I'm just like, um, really... jet-lagged," I say, forcing a casual grin. "Yeah, that was such a fun party."

"It was okay." Joaquin shrugs.

He doesn't stay long because Iris Palmer and Bella Freud whisk him away and Bentley lights another cigarette for Jamie, who's just staring on a continuous basis in a very hard, weird way at me, as if she's trying to figure something out. I play along by cocking my head, looking confused, grinning dumbly, fooling around with my own cigarette that Bentley insists on trying to light, shrugging my shoulders guy-like.

"I think Joaquin's harelip is fabulous," Bentley intones dramatically.

"Why did you tell him you were at Annabel's last night?" Jamie asks me.

"Because, baby, I was," I say. "Yeah, Jarvis and I hung out and then Joaquin and I, er, hung out some more and... it was just like clowns to the left of us, jokers to the right, y'know, baby?"

Jamie nods, inhales on the cigarette, then says, "But you weren't there, Victor."

"Hey, how do you know, baby?" I'm asking.

"Because I was there, Victor," she says.

A long pause and then, feigning outrage, I ask, "And you didn't say hello? Jesus, baby."