Bringing Heather down

Isabelle rocked the new dress. Specially selected, it was a touch business yet still held heaps of after-five sizzle she desired- hot, dangerous. It made Issy feel fine, spectacular actually. It wasn't like her to be so totally confident to pull off such a get-up but these days she wasn't quite the same woman as she was before. She drove down from the lake for him, worked hard to get this plan into action for him. She, she surmised, would move mountains for him.

And he treated her like a goddess, over and over again, and always showed her he wanted to be with her. She should embrace it, she would embrace it.

All the tea in china couldn't stop her now, no two-bit piece of cheap trailer trash was gonna get her hands on his fine arse, no way in hell. Issy felt bullet proof. And today, with a few tools of the trade, she pulled off tycoon sexy bitch like no other.

But her teeth still chattered.

And Cyn's did too.

They were still just two mums taking on the unknown. Doing something foreign, something so unlike them;
To an outsider, they would be questioned as to their motive,..... then locked up in a mental asylum.

"You're absolutely sure?"

"If you say are you sure one more time Cyn!" Issy smiled though, it was great she was having an adventure with Cynthia, even if it was to save Johns butt. Cyn straightened her own cocktail dress around her knees as the chauffeur driven limo pulled into the parking lot of the Inn John had booked the room at.

"The Red Roof Inn? Are you mad. This place is like a flea-bitten garbage can" Cyn pulled her sunglasses down her nose, sniffed a little then turned a puzzled face toward Issy. Her look so obviously questioning Issy's sanity... again.

"We've been over  this..." Issy rolled her eyes "John's 'broke' remember"

"Oh yeah"

"Come on.. let's start this showdown"

"Ok pardnner, shall I tie Trigger to the tree overrr yonnnder"

"Please don't do Liverpool Western again this afternoon" Issy nudged Cyn as they giggled and teetered their way toward the office reception, on heels too high and legs not quite used to them.

Key handed over and assured the other key had been collected, the girls giggled a little more as they tripped over nothing on the level ground. "God I really need some more N.Y. nights out to get used to heels again"

"Flats all the way for me, or socks if allowed"

"Barefoot..."

"Ohhhhh yeahhhhh" They groaned in lovely unison thinking of their feet being free of god awful stiletto's.

"Right it's that door in the corner. Sober up Watson. How do I look?"

"Like John won the lottery twice, Sherlock"

"Twice?"

"Well me... then you... haha"

"Behave!" Issy held the key in shaky fingers. They would burst into the room super quickly, scare the crapola out of the lady, belt her about for a few minutes then disappear back into the limo.

Nahhh, they wanted to do that but they thought they wouldn't be able to run away in heels so Issy came up with a different plan.

"Who the hell are you" was yelled as Issy quickly made heel tracks into the small motel room. Cyn was half right. It was flea bitten, but there was no trash can.

"He didn't tell her Cyn..." Issy casually strolled in the room throwing her sunglasses and scarf on the bed, she then casually dropped her clutch onto the small round table and leaned over Heather as she sat in stunned silence staring at the two women. Brilliant blue eyes bugged out of her head "I've come to make you see sense"

"Where's John? I'm having his baby you know" she grinned trying to cover the worry of this surprise face to face, with the old bat.

She knew John, knew what ticked him off and what to do if she wanted to make him horny. But this old woman.... she would probably break a hip entertaining the singer.

"Oh, I know what you told John. He tells me everything you see. No secrets him and I.."

"Would you two old bags get out of Johns room"

"Johns room" Issy snorted a laugh out "She thinks it's Johns room Cynthia" Issy troubled her lip as she sighed sadly at Heathers lack of knowledge of John's current 'situation'. She turned a tad to address Cyn in the process.

"Can I break the news to her Isabelle? It's like Christmas this is" Cyn gushed eagerly, drawing on the power of not being in the immediate spotlight. She was just a little supporting role in Issy's play.

Yes she was support, backup and an echo basically, to anything Issy said, as was their deviously wonderful plan (cue evil villain laughter Ahahahaha)..... She didn't mind this undercover soirée, it was a little out of left field, but already it was looking to be great fun.  So much more fun than waiting tables at her and her new fellas' newly opened restaurant like she'd being doing as recently as Sunday evening... Just before they left England to attend Julian's wedding.

"Settle down, we can't just drop this all on the poor thing. She has plans, don't you darling..." Issy straightened and checked her lipstick in a mirror above the small table. Cyn pulled a nail file out, acting bored and began filing her nails in the only semi comfortable chair in the room.

The chair, positioned by the door, was convenient to Iss and Cyn's needs, it was right next to the only way in, or out, of the room.

"Plans for John to dump your saggy arse and marry me. Did I mention.... I'm pregnant"

"You told me, you poor thing...."

"He'll marry me and dump you like he dumped McCartney at an Apple meeting"

Oh this was so much better than Issy expected, clear admission of the bitch knowing about The Beatles and even knowing about John and the boys falling out at Apple.

"I'm going to have to just tell her Cyn, rip the band-aid off so to speak" Issy made damn sure Heather was listening and moved a little closer, crowding the woman. She was standing so close Heather had nowhere to look but at her. Issy held eye contact and set her mouth in a grim completely artificial,  'so sad for Heather', line.

She counted to ten.... to heighten the suspense. 

Then, and only then, did Issy speak.

".....You know he's broke don't you... Why do you think you've had to come to this grotty run down flea ridden motel?" Issy moved away, strolling casually over to the television, running a finger over it's surface collecting dust as she went. She turned about, re-approaching the table and dusted her hand, letting the thin layer of dust she had collected, trail over Heathers hand.

Heather was still trying to compute what Issy had just said.

She wasn't the brightest bird in the tree, Issy could see that, and that would work to Issy's advantage. She reiterated the news and held back a grin. "....Broke Heather. Everything's tied up in a multitude of counter-suits and legal warfare with the other three Beatles"

"That ended years ago you dumb bitch" Heather finally stood and growled her words out at Isabelle.
She felt the winnings of this particular war of words wash over her and grinned in triumph.

Heather knew the legal side of John. Knew The Beatles suing and counter-suing of each other. It had been front page news for years. Their personal and business lives slung across headlines almost daily in the past, then it was over, finalised and everyone got on with their lives. "He has the Dakota"

"Oh he has the Dakota does he.... How many mortgages hanging over that piece of real estate now Cynnie?"

"Three" Cynthia never looked up, just continued filing her nails, holding them up for perusal every now and then to see if they needed more attention, blowing the files work away with nary a bother.

"Three Heather and I gave him an allowance for coming into town this week"

Leaning in closer, Iss whispered rather loudly like she was gossiping a juicy secret "Don't tell anyone, but this kind of power, over John, is really quite... heady...."

Issy stepped back, giving room, letting everything sink in to Heathers thoughts. She continued on, weaving the charade, crowding the woman's mind with falsehoods and smokescreens. Like she was sticking more and more fictitious knives in "Sorry, I'm being mean, aren't I"

Iss grinned like she did indeed enjoy keeping John, kept.

Cyn snorted then faked a sneeze.

"Bless you Cynthia!"

He'd kill her if he knew what Issy was saying.

But there you go, desperate times call for desperate measures...

"You're a lying cow you old hag..."

Heather stepped nearer as Issy unfurled the newspaper that had sat unassuming, under her arm. With Heather circling the table Issy stood firm, pretending to be unconcerned as she read the headlines to herself.

"John is loaded. The Beatles have finished and are long done with the legal shit. It's all over... He took me all over the place when I was with him."

Now that little nugget stung. She pretended to be absorbed in the newspaper. All Issy had got was a small stack of vinyl and a night out at a gala function he had to attend because he was the benefactor. Oh, and the little letter 'G'... She struggled to shake herself free from pettiness. It wasn't important was it. John took her mind. She didn't need trinkets and trips, though it would be nic-

"Show her the Times Isabelle" Cyn was beside her squeezing Issy's shoulder rather firmly, an offering of moral support and a firm reminder of where Iss was. What they were doing. Issy smiled again, a little brighter, remembering why she was there.

Slapping the British Newspaper on the table, Heather turned and scanned the headlines.

Beatles In Turmoil Again.

'Hey Jude Boys- You will need more than love this time round...

Maybe All You Need is your Bulldogs pet mince to survive this legal mess lads...'

Cyn covered her mouth to stifle the laughter, maybe Issy should have shown Cyn the headline before she slapped it down on the table. They would have a good laugh about this afterwards, for sure.

Publishers, that love their writers, can get their writers anything....

And anything that Issy asked for, she got.

Loreile had managed to get a six-page copycat wrapper made for a standard London Times newspaper bought at the local newsagent.

Page one of course mocked up authentically with the headline of the meaty business between John, Paul, George and Richy. The band supposedly going hammer and tong over the Beatles coffers all over again. But this time the legal stoush was bandaged together with more complex legal suits against the music publishers and Capitol/ EMI combined.

The headline had a few introductory paragraphs and accompanying unflattering headshots of the band... then, as any good headline story should have, a line or two directing the reader to the whole juicy double paged sob story on pages three and four.

It was brilliantly done, right down to blurry misprint on another article. A thin inch wide ad right the way down one side which Issy had cheekily had added. The cheekiness going so far to be an ad ironically proclaiming 'Coming Soon'  Pauls McCartneys New Movie:  Give My Regards for Broad Street, (Advertising gold- everyone's going to read this article let's slap a related ad beside it!) Capping off the page, the latest seasonal offerings from Saks lay across the bottom of the article. Placed on the back few pages-sport. The England- Australia Ashes cricket game days' play was there, as was the NBL latest signings.

In depth, worded like a journalist with a vendetta against the Beatles themselves, it was full of legal babble, snarling analysis of the four mens' dwindling fortunes, and big decade time frames for the legal battles.

Issy had worded most of the article over the brick phone as she drove down and picked up the completed paper right before she met Cyn for a quick bite at Café Nicholson on East 58th Street. The lavish Greco-Roman interior was as sumptuous as the chocolate souffle the girls ate as they formed their plan of attack.

Heather stood stoic at first, a non-believer, and Issy felt flutterings of panic begin to rise in her tummy. Would her lie be found out, was Heather smarter and more shrewd than she gave her credit for. As Heather sat and turned to page three Issy finally let herself really look at the girl...

Heather was so pretty and slim, legs so long. Issy fought with herself as she imagined John touching the much younger woman.

His lips on her neck, her small breasts; being intimate with the blonde, perhaps even thinking he had loved her...

Isabelle sat too now, quiet and subdued as she battled inside. She watched Heather read. Clear blue eyes scanning the article trying to understand the story and ingest the dreaded poison Issy herself had laced throughout with carefully placed words and legal phrase. The ultimate mockery. The newspaper full of factless rubbish.

Cyn was close, another nudge to her shoulder was all that was needed to remind Issy why she was there, why she was doing all this. Who she was.

Standing, Isabelle surreptitiously looked over the woman in the mirror. Lifting her chin she stared down her own reflection. Glimpsing what John saw, what she should value.

Heather glanced up, biting her lip, then fled back to the newsprint. She was unsure what to think.

Isabelle revelled in the girls anxiousness. She grew strength from the troubled face that now second guessed herself and her own deceit.
Issy was buoyed, and almost... almost, bounced on her toes in delight.

"He can't raise your baby Heather, he's currently looking at going back to England. I'm hardly coping with all this... But I want to help, I do" Issy turned back from the mirror, eyes trying to make sincerity shine through, she should have been in the movies she thought as she sank back down into the seat opposite "I understand why you did it but.... it isn't his, is it?" The younger woman gulped as Issy leaned in, wrapping motherly fingers round Heathers hand solidarity style, trying to garner a foothold into the woman's trust.

Heather went to drag her hand away but Issy resisted, patting her hand instead. Heather struggled a miniscule amount more then deflated as Issy smiled gently. A mother calming the daughter in a way.
She could nearly be this girl's mother, ugh.

"Of course, it's his, you mad cow" Heather launched again, she was standing over Issy. A finger poking and jabbing at Issy's face.

Feeling like running but knowing she couldn't Issy smiled like a victorious athlete, who had just won a gold medal.

"Gee I'm getting all the names today- bitch, cow- and here I thought I could help"

"You can't help me. I don't believe you but I can read. I don't want to, but I believe that" Heather pointed shakily at the broadsheet laying open on the table. Her eyes flitting over the article. "He is still the daddy"

"Really?"

"Really"

"And you're willing to marry him, in near poverty and move to England" Issy leaned back and looked at Cynthia as she touched up her lipstick in the mirror. "I commend you, moving in with Aunt Mimi wouldn't be my choice of married life but I guess you will settle in. Do you think Mimi will go easy on her Cyn?"

"Whose.....Wait. Who is Mimi?"

"Oh just John's grumpy Auntie. He adores her. He's definitely not moving in with me!" Cynthia sat on the end of the bed, crossing her legs elegantly "He begged of course but I'm remarried you see. Can't have the ex moving in, lying around and cluttering up the house, can I" Cyn laughed at the idiocy of that little vision, no she definitely didn't want John any more.

'I have something else... It's so hard you see, hard to show you. We have... you see.... ohhh. We have really been trying...John and I... For a while..." Issy wiped a stray tear, yep definitely going for an Oscar  "...For a while I. I.. Oh it's silly but I wanted another baby too Heather" Cyn snorted then coughed noisily into her fisted hand, Issy wanted to clobber her. It was hard enough keeping a straight face without Cyn snorting out pig laughs.

"Too old I guessing" Heather laughed unmercifully, rubbing in the age difference yet again. She then made a big show and stood up pressing a hand to the small of her back and pushed forward the tiny bump she had.

Avocado sized, my foot Lennon. It was a tiny 'if anything' bump.

"No I'm in perfect running order had all my scans and tests.. I just thought we couldn't you see.. He didn't say he couldn't.... Oh here, I'll just show you.. But once I do, this charade will stop, do you understand me" The mother in her chided Heather like a child. Heather crinkled her nose and rolled her eyes.

Issy pulled the envelope from her clutch.

"You're not far along are you?" Cyn nodded at the little tummy of Heathers, trying to draw the woman out again, trying to trip her up.

"Far enough along for John to be the daddy, grandma"

"Oh Heather, John can't be the daddy. I think you're lying. Actually, I know you're lying" Issy walked around the table, steeled once again. She had almost lost her mettle and Cyns words woke her up to keep this charade going. "Now if you sign just here. I will drop any and all charges my lawyer has drawn up on Johns behalf. Lying and slander of a celebrity, a well-loved-"

Cyn snorted again, making Issy glare at her

"..a well loved celebrity is risky and very costly..."

"It's his, god damn it. You thick old bitch"

"He's had the snip you idiot" Issy made scissor fingers and poked her hand, doing scissor actions, in Heathers face "Snip, snip, snip!"

"He didn't say that-"

"Say what?- Oh Heather I've had the chop " Issy smirked "What man's going to say that when faced with a woman, Heather. Come on, really"

"He.... But he ranted and raved when I told him"

"You sprang this surprise pregnancy on him Heather.  He completely forgot himself and jumped on the surprise baby band wagon. He feels bad he didn't tell you..." Liar Isabelle, liar.

"I... I thought. Oh. I.. He's sterile?!?"

"I don't think he would appreciate it stated in that particular fashion but technically yes. John had the snip while still with his late wife, and he is unable to bear children" Issy sank glumly into her seat. Heather, mirroring her movements, sank opposite.

Heather keenly watched Issy swipe some stray tears away "I always wanted another child and I really truly thought... oh you know, it's..." Cyn took Issy's hand and squeezed. Golden Oscar Statuette calling... "It's heartbreaking Heather. You're so, so lucky... Do you... do you have another candidate?.. Someone to help pay the bills. God knows they charge like the devil right- doctors and hospital trips, labour ward, ongoing expenses, school, university"

Heather softened then and there, and Cyn had to refrain from happy dancing around the room. Issy took a tissue to dab and add effect. She felt horrible still. The dying embers of what ifs flared dancing around her.

What if it really is Johns?
What if he did play up with her?

Issy found Cyn's hand and squeezed, Cyn sank down beside her friend and hugged her close, a hand comforting and rubbing her bac-

"Simon. Simon Hill or Hillson, I'm not entirely sure. He, he lives in my building. He's, he's the father ... What am I going to do?...." Heather whined and looked toward the two women seated opposite her, they slapped on the caring mother faces quickly.

Cyn and Issy both felt like high fiving but both held the euphoria in for a little while longer. Iss stood with a sincere smile in place and walked around to Heather, hugging her tightly. "I'm sure he'll do the decent thing"

"Hmmm, he.... He has tried to be nice. I've been a bit of a bitch to him, you know"

"Go home Heather, have a heart to heart with the baby's father, what was his name again? ...."

"Simon"

"Yes Simon".......

Heather stumbled with her purse, her own brick sized cell phone and a few of Issy's tissues, out the door.

Cyn stood guard watching her as she retreated down the hallway....

Heather made her way through the main entrance and the swinging doors softly closed behind her, their own room door swiftly closed and Cyn ran headlong at Issy who was lying on the bed, feeling completely drained.

"We did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We actually did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Cyn bounced on her knees getting Issy bouncing on her back, grinning at her silly girlish antics "I wanna hear it Iss! Come on! I want to hear it!!"

"Go on then...."

Cyn stopped herself mid bounce, bound off the bed and slipped her hand inside Issy's clutch. The small tape recorder was still recording.... The click was beautiful when it came and with hands trembling as much as Issy's had been when she pressed record, Cyn rewound the tape and pressed play....

"Go home Heather, have a heart to heart with the baby's father, what was his name again? ...."

"Simon"

"Yes Simo-

Cyn clicked the stop button.

"We did it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Issy then caught the elation bug, sat up on her knees and bounced on the bed like a three-year-old, hands held out for Cyn. Cyn whooped and swiftly yet carefully laid the small device aside and launched back onto the bed and they bounced about like three-year-olds til they finally stopped smiling and giggling and lay on their backs staring at the ceiling happy at their plan playing out exactly how Issy wanted....

They did it!!

~~~~

"Bye!! See you Saturday!" Issy waved Cynthia off in the limo and spun on the spot. Feeling like clicking her heels together a la Wizard of Oz, she refrained, and instead hustled back inside the motels reception office, a fabulous grin permanently in place.

"Hi, I'm supposed to pick up a room key for John Lyons, with a 'y', room; Oh, and here's the other key back. We won't be needing that room any longer thank-you. Change of plans."

Issy stood up on tiptoes then sank into her heels over and over again while waiting for the clerk, eager to fill John in, she was invigorated and extremely happy.

That was until....

"Oh, he checked out, said to give you this" Grahame, so the name tagged proclaimed, handed Issy a small envelope decked out in the motels insignia. Red trimmed and a little roof hovered over the business name in the corner of both the envelope and note paper. Issy drew the page out of the envelope as she stepped back outside into the light of the setting sun.

Hey Iss (still sounds like a Gnat)

Got desperate for a piano, headed back to the D

Grab the limo and I'll see you soon

Mister Lion
Raaawwww

Issy looked heavenward and rolled her eyes. Cyn was miles away by now, the limo threading swiftly away through the streets. Great. Thanks heaps Mister Lion. Issy traipsed back inside for directions.

The bus stop she found ok, Issy read through the routes to make her way back into town. Lucky to have enough change for the bus, she offered the driver the shrapnel and sat on the first available seat...

She then felt many eyes upon her and suddenly her ease of getting a bus became unease as she realised she was very overdressed. Instantly she reddened, a tad embarrassed; Make that a load embarrassed!... She had been picked up from outside a motel looking like a high class call girl leaving her afternoons' delight of hourly appointments!

But this was a new improved, blackmail smashing Issy, so with a little steel in her spine she lifted her chin and sat back as well as she could comfortably manage and watched the bus lurch, and stop and start, through the many, many city streets.

Heather had been her nemesis in her head for so long and had given her the worst case of self-loathing Issy had felt in her life... But she was also a little sorry for the woman. Like anyone, she wanted stability and she saw that in John, and John had had a relationship with her. Issy shifted, uncomfortable in the vinyl seat.

Am I just the same? Do I just want stability for my future?

Central park loomed then disappeared as they fled toward a new direction. Toward the terminus, Pennsylvania Station.

Disembarking at Penn Station Issy was propositioned not once, not twice but thrice, as she powered off toward the next bus departure point.

She was not pleased.

When did a woman in a nice dress become a target for seedy men and scarlet afternoons, oh always. You can't even walk by a building site without being wolf whistled at, it isn't right... Though it makes you feel a little bit better about yourself inside... She, herself, was certainly guilty of using those few whistles to feel good... even if it was bad.

Ugh, a ten minute or so walk in heels saw Issy resting twice.

Heels were the pits.

She winced, I am so having a foot soak when I manage to get back to the Dakota... Maybe I should go to Sallys her apartment would be a tad closer.. Then what? Sit and have to explain the afternoon to those two kids. Arhhh, No Thank-you!

Sally was all for Issy having adventures but conducting covert espionage with Jules' mother... Maybe that sort of afternoon activity would be classified as a tiny bit off the rails madness....!

Hopping on the 'C' Bus line Iss staggered to cling to a grab pole as the bus took off without a chance to find a seat. Is it too much to ask for a seat, apparently yes. But at this time of night everyone wanted to go home, wherever home is. So seating was at a premium and, as Issy clung on for dear life, she watched the streets slowly turn familiar. She would be there soon, thankfully.

Travelling slowly onwards, streets heaving, traffic crawling, the bus eventually passed by the 'Museum of Arts and Design', then lurched around Columbus Circle at great speed threatening to upend Iss onto the floor then pulled off in a burst toward the Dakota;Travelling straight along Central park West.

Finally, the corner she sought, loomed.

Central Park West and 72nd street now surrounded her like a beloved old friend and Issy very, very, gratefully, alighted the bus...