Chapter 17 Country Club Chaos
"Who does she think she is?” Catherine Medici interrupted Kelly mid sentence. Startled, Kelly who had been unusually demonstratively affectionate-snuggling up and stroking my arm- jolted my arm so hard I spilled some of my wine.
We had run into Catherine Medici and her husband Henri Valois in the interval of the final chamber music concert in the 2006 series. They invited us to supper at the Union League Club. Kelly accepted before I had a chance to open my mouth.
“Kelly, I’m tired, work was shitty and the concert isn’t really my thing. I like a lot of music- and yes that includes chamber music but not avant guarde. It sounds like cats wailing.” I protested as we went back in after interval.
“Humour me please Peter. These people are important. Please Peter.” She gripped my arm. “Please."
I nodded reluctantly. I’d seen Catherine Medici on the TV news from time to time. She was a forty- something trustee of a suburban township and the spokesperson for a group of suburban townships. This was much more than the official line- a buying group formed to- to give the townships more market power and leverage in the market. And it was more than what Medici admitted on TV. There she said it was a lobby for the townships, together they were more influential at both County Hall and in Springfield. It was in reality the old Cook County Democratic machine modernised for the twenty-first century. And Catherine Medici was the power behind it. Rumour had it that it was she who chose the state congressmen, or at least had the final word. Rumour also had it that she had but to phone a state congressman to ensure a particular policy would be carried out. Catherine Medici was probably politically the most powerful woman in Chicago.
Henri Valois was one of the richest men in Chicago. The family fortune had grown out of railways but was now in property, finance and communications. He was a partner in a private bank that had links with Brown Bros. and Harriman- and so with the President. Prescott Bush and Henri’s grandfather had been at Yale together. Between them Henri Valois and Catherine Medici could expect personal service from whoever was in the White House.
“Kelly, you've never sucked up to anyone before. Why these people?”
“Peter, I'm not."Kelly was indignant. "They serve on the boards of many of the charities I work for; they do a lot of good. And being social never hurt anyone. Anyway it won’t be just social, Henri’s bank is co-sponsoring and Catherine is helping organise a Lurie Hospital fund-raiser at the Beverley." She referred to the function at the country club where she played golf.
I shrugged. The subtext to Kelly’s social comment was -that she'd expect to trade favours. It wasn't just Vic who was Japanese in his attitude about mutual favours. And we were already going to the fund-raiser- Kelly was now one of the Lurie Hospital’s “Circle of Friends”- an officially recognised volunteer fund-raiser Kelly's firm was doing the publicity and the event management for the function as part of their pro bono commitment. Kelly herself would probably be using the fund raiser to network. Well the hospital was a good cause.
By the time we'd eaten most of the supper– in spite of my earlier thoughts- I had to admit that Henri and Catherine were not bad company- a decade or so older than us- I'd say Henry was about 45 and Catherine in her early 40's some different attitudes but still pleasant enough company. . And suddenly the night changed with Catherine's outburst. Like Kelly I turned as Catherine went on, “Look at her, she's so condescending, and people are fawning to her. Bah it’s as if she was royalty, not some mediocre actress.”
And I saw Kim Curzon walking towards the bar from the door of the supper room with Michael Tippett on her arm. We watched; it may have been an exaggeration to say Kim's walk around the room was a royal progress, but it wasn't much of one. Every few tables she'd stop, she'd greet the people, smile radiantly and say a few words. I couldn't hear what she said but from the peals of laughter from almost everyone she spoke to she was jesting, witty and putting everyone in a good mood.
Kelly whispered, “I thought Michael was the member here.”
“He is, I put him up.”
“But its Kim who is introducing him, she seems to know everyone.”
“No, only people who can help her with her career!” Catherine had clearly heard our whispered conversation.
“Kim's achieved everything herself." Kelly replied
"She certainly has, She came here from god knows where. She wheedled her way into the New Globe Company pretending to be ‘ever so humble’ until she got a few bit parts. I’ve no idea who the little tramp slept with- or how often- to get a few understudy parts. She fluked a success when the actress she understudied in some play got sick. Admittedly Kim was a success in that play." Catherine was angry. "But she's traded on that success ever since. And she’s showed us all the real Kim- arrogant, bitchy, aggressive. She's like ivy, pleasant enough- indeed useful if kept in its place but if you don't keep it down it takes over. Just like she’s doing right now. It’s as if she is honouring people with her notice. Someone should cut the little slut down to size.”
“That is a dreadful libel.” Kelly's face paled. “What you mean is Kim has made the utmost of all her chances. She was willing to scrub tables and sell tickets for the New Globe, indeed she volunteered for that. That's how she got the understudy's role. Hard work and humility paid off. She excelled in all her roles. Her talents have taken her to where she is today. She has had no help from her family,” she paused, “and not much help from mine.”
“Perhaps, but look at her dress.”
“What of it?” Kelly retorted. “It’s very sophisticated.” Indeed it was the sophistication that comes from simplicity. A almost knee length ivory dress which both showed and masked Kim's cleavage by lace which ended in a high neck and extended to her elbows was complimented by a string of pearls. In a way it was almost too sophisticated, it would have been more suitable for a young matron, someone of Catherine's age. Nevertheless it looked stunning. A fact which a smiling Michael was clearly well aware. He looked like the proverbial cat that had swallowed the canary as he walked round the room arm in arm with the actress.
“Yes but that sophistication comes at a high price. God only knows how much she paid for that dress.” Catherine was not appeased. “How could the trollop afford that on her wages; perhaps she inveigled that man” she pointed to Michael, “to buy it. I wonder what she had to do to persuade him? “
“Not now dear, she's coming this way,” Henri interrupted his wife. He and I stood up; it was good to be with another man who knew his manners.
“Hello Kim, hello Michael.” I greeted my friends, shaking hands with Michael and kissing Kim’s cheek.
“Hey Peter, hello Kelly.”Kim turned, “Hello Catherine, you should be very proud of your niece. Lucia is a great Eileen Tanqueray. Playing opposite her I can feel the hostility, the resentment she has for Paula. It’s abrasive, gritty. I know the audience can see her making me as Paula ashamed, fearful of my past. She’s pushing me to be a better Paula.”
"I thought you didn’t like
The Second Mrs Tanqueray,” Kelly said
"I don’t, it’s a dated play, but Lucia Mirabella –Catherine’s niece- and I are making the best of it. Tension sparks every time she’s on stage with me.” Kim turned back to Catherine and Henri, “It’s great playing against your niece.”
“Thank you Kim,” Catherine said shortly.
“Sit down and join us Kim. “Kelly invited her. “We were talking about the Lurie Hospital dinner – I hope you’ll come to that.”
“Kim’s already supporting the hospital; a group of New Globe actors do performances for the patients every week.”Michael said proudly. He patted Kim’s hand. “You’ve been doing it for ages haven’t you?”
Kim blushed modestly, “Yes but it’s just one of the things you do, you have a talent you want to share it with people. And anyway its good training, the kids get involved, you have to ad lib a lot, it keeps you on your toes. “
“Don’t be so humble, you do it to help others, not yourself.” Michael hugged her. “It’s supper time do you want an open sandwich?”
“No thanks I’ll have some soup-I’m still cold.”
“I’ll come with you Michael, I was going to get some coffee and cake just before you arrived,” I said.
We walked over to the bar. “Peter I’m so glad you introduced me to Kim. She’s a lovely lady. Look at her tonight, effervescent, bright, chatting to everyone. Apart from anything else she’s a great networker. I was so out of touch, so ...yes I’ll admit it- lonely, even with Rotary I had few social contacts my age and few business contacts any age. Kim’s helped me meet so many people. She’s a great example. She’s like me, she’s not from Chicago but she’s made her way here. And she’s helping me do the same.”
I smiled. Inwardly though I doubted whether Michael had seen Kim’s flip side. She was almost bi polar, one week bright and happy as she was tonight, another week she’d be sullen, morose. And I wondered had he seen her flirt with other men. Still that was Michael’s concern not mine.
We made our way back. Kim was chatting brightly about the Victorian artist Alma Tadema- apparently some of his paintings had been used in designing interiors of the
Chronicles of Narnia a film that had been released the year before. “That wasn’t the first film to use his designs, D W Griffiths used them in
Intolerance de Mille used them in
The Ten Commandments” Kim again showed her wide interests. Her apartment had prints of paintings by Alma Tadema, Burnes-Jones and Edward Leighton; once neglected painters who were now back in favour.
Michael whispered to me, “That’s one smart girlfriend!”
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” I nudged him in the ribs. “And say thank you to me for introducing you two.”
“Thank you again Peter, from the moment I met her Kim’s been a real charmer.”
I remembered that night at the film festival. Kim had been sullen as Kelly admonished during interval “You shouldn’t be so ungrateful. Paula Tanqueray is the lead in the play. “
“I’m type cast; I want to do more modern theatre."
Kelly didn’t let her finish her sentence, snapping, “You should be thankful for what you get Missy.”
I glanced around for a distraction and saw Michael- with that shock of white hair he stood out. “Kim I want you to meet a friend of ours. Michael Tippett, meet Kim Curzon, one of our brightest young actresses- she’s to be the leading lady in the New Globe Theatre’s next production.”
Kim looked up. She started chatting with Michael. Within a few moments she’d invited him to sit next to her; she was looking at him, then glancing away again, brushing her hand or arm against his. Kelly and I were forgotten “What a change in Kim!” I whispered.
“She’s just a flirt.” Kelly answered.
I’d not been convinced at the time that Kim was just flirting and now not quite two months later at the Union Club I was still not convinced.
But I was convinced Kim was more than smart, she was indeed charming. She'd found a common interest with Henri who was an avid art collector and was charming him. She was also impressing Michael, who even if he didn’t know the painters she discussed with Henri was proud of his clever girlfriend.
So was Kelly but for a different reason. “Kim’s gaming Catherine." She whispered as we watched. “Somehow- and it’s not by luck- she’s found a topic of conversation Henri’s passionate about and she knows more about it than Catherine. She’s playing it for all its worth. Oh I could kiss her! Look how angry Catherine is.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh I had no idea how late it was,” she said more loudly. “Peter, remember you have an early start tomorrow. We’d better go.”
I made my excuses, I had to be at the factory at seven in the morning and it was already past midnight. I’d not be getting much sleep. “We’ll see you all at the Country Club next week.”
We left Michael and Catherine observing the animated conversation between Kim and Henri. But what a difference in the observers. Michael was clearly proud of his clever girlfriend. Catherine was simmering at being shown up by Kim’s greater knowledge.
On the way home I asked “Kelly, why did you spring to Kim’s defence? In the past you’ve run her down- you’ve said she’s just an adequate actress, you say she came from nowhere and she got one lucky break which made her career. Heck you’ve said worse things about her than Catherine did.”
"Peter you don’t understand. It’s loyalty. Like Harry Truman said of Somoza, “he may be a son of a bitch but he’s our son of a bitch.” So Kim may be a bitch but she’s our bitch. So I’ll stand by her. And who were running her down? Henri Valois. His family have been Americans for generations but he still thinks he’s French. Why else does he spell his name in the French way? He’s a phoney! And Catherine Medici, the only difference between the Medici and Tony Soprano is that the Medici’s have been here longer. They are old money mobsters.
“And she’s malicious, yes so is Kim” Kelly anticipated my protest. “But Catherine is different. She’s old money; she’s supposed to be above petty malice. She isn’t. She didn’t have to run Kim down. She’s just a nasty piece. And she’s got a foul temper too. Even worse than Kim’s. And she’s not a red head.
"So why were they doing it? Because my brother is a trustee and they think I have influence. I don’t. And because Lucia Mirabella is Catherine’s niece. My brother Richard tells me Pretty Lucia has her nose out of joint because she didn’t get the female lead in the play. She’s suited to an ingénue’s role. Paula Tanqueray is a kept woman. A role just made for Kim; she’s experienced- and not just as an actress. And it shows."
"Peter, Kim and Michael let me introduce you all to Heather West, my guest at the function tonight.” It was a week later; we were at the Beverley Country Club. Once again Kelly had surprised me. She’d told me to pick up Kim and Michael and that she’d make her own way to the function. That alone was a little odd, but understandable given that Michael worked in an accountant’s office near Balfour Industries’ plant. In fact that was how I’d met him. The accountant he worked for was our family’s accountant and Michael headed the audit team.
The surprise was her guest. Heather “Wild” West was a journalist She’d grown up in some beach side town in California where her Mom had been the managing editor for the local paper. Heather had to be pushing middle age- she had teenage children.
Despite her age she still tried to look like a California beach bunny. And she succeeded! She was lean and fit looking- I’d say she frequented the gym often, her long blonde hair looked natural but her wrinkle free face had to owe something to Botox or a skilled plastic surgeon or both. She looked a lot like Heather Locklear and her love life was as convoluted as that soap actress. According to the gossip columns she was currently ‘consoling’ Martin Kelly, a recently widowed property developer. She’d already seen off a couple of husbands and several partners.
Still it wasn’t her romances that made her newsworthy. It was her reporting skills. Whether she inherited those from her mother or learned them some other way she’d broken many big stories. Her last exposes were currently serving time for mail fraud. She’d discovered some collusive tendering in the construction industry and had been a star witness for the DA. That triumph had catapulted her to the lead reporter on some sordid TV night-time news magazine. She’d beaten all the other publicity-seeking, muckraking, troublemaking female versions of Geraldo Rivera. Like them she had the head turning looks and voice for it. But unlike them she had a solid series of successes. She was that oxymoron a celebrity that deserved her fame.
I was not that surprised Kelly knew her; I was astonished that she’d invited her to this event. Rumour had it that West’s current project was investigating the so called buying group formed by suburban townships and headed by Catherine Medici. The advance leaks were that the patronage the group controlled was something that ran close to that of Mayor Daley in the 1960’s at the height of the Cook County Democratic Party. And it was the patronage that gave Medici her political power. Any expose of the patronage was likely to topple Medici.
Kelly introduced us and let us talk for a while.
Heather was boisterous. She was also fun, making us laugh as she told us tall stories about her trips overseas. Well I thought they were tall, but checking up later I found they were true. But who’d have thought any American journalist would be smuggled into a Solidarity meeting in April 1989 and interview some of the workers in a Polish steel mill dressed as a nun with another reporter- a Polish one dressed as a nurse. – “Well it was the only way we could get past the security. Heck Republic Steel doesn’t let the public into their mills in Pittsburgh. Do you think the Polish mills are different? But they let nuns and nurses in –when people tell the guards there’s been an accident. Maria was a cracker. Totally fun bad ass woman. A lot like me, too much drinking, and too many boys in her life but a great reporter. She filed breaking stories. And she spoke English and my Polish was very limited.
mogę piwo proszę – can I have a beer please and
nie chcę cię do tej pory no I do not want to date you was about it." She laughed, we all laughed, she was a born storyteller.
And then who’d believe any American reporter would mount the Berlin Wall as it was being demolished and sing the Star Spangled Banner and The Internationale before asking a uniformed East German border guard for a date? Her personal website had the photos to prove it –including one of her and the border guard on a date. As she said “Ah Hans. He was a good screw too! Pity his mind was so twisted with all that Communist crap.”
“And I had to get to Prague to cover the protests there. So Hans and I were pretty much a one night stand. Catching the train to Prague was great. So many guys, so many people wanted to be on American news. Great- that is till I got to the border. I had way too much illegal stuff, heck even my camera and cassette recorder and tapes were contraband. Czechoslovakia was behind the East Germans, they didn't really start the Velvet Revolution for a fortnight. That doesn't sound long but if a week is a long time in politics a fortnight is an eternity in a revolution. The Czech guards were jumpy, scared and I thought -trigger happy. And I was an American reporter trying to cross a crumbling Iron Curtain. . Not a good combination. They marched me off the train and into a blockhouse.”
“Is that the time you gave the guard a blow job so he'd let you go?” Lucia Mirabella broke into the conversation, repeating one of the stories that clung to Heather West's reputation.
“No, not that time. I did that to get an interview with Alexander Dubček. Honestly, I’d probably have done it anyway, his guard was a stud! ” Heather laughed “That's the crap women get. No male reporter would get that shit. But I don’t suppose you have to worry about that do you Lucia. You must bless your family and especially your dear Aunt Catherine. But one day you might choke on the silver spoon”
I was surprised at Heather's knowledge. Lucia Mirabella was not exactly famous- she didn't have as big a name as Kim Curzon. Kim herself - for all her striving to know the right people - was no household name.
Lucia replied angrily, "You got help too, your mother was a newspaper editor!"
"Oh my mom! I'm still not sure whether she was a help or a hindrance. She got into a lot of hot water back in Sandbridge. I could tell you some tales...but well she’s still my mom and I guess she deserves a daughter’s respect. Let’s just say she taught me a lot of things the UCLA journalist course didn’t. “Heather threw back her head and peeled with laughter.
“That’s another thing.” Lucia was like a dog with a bone, she just wouldn’t let go. “You tell people you went to Europe straight after high school and set yourself up as a freelance stringer and covered the collapse of communism.”
“Yes I was lucky; I was in the right place at the right time. And yeah Mom did help me, she gave me some contacts.”
“But in fact you’d already graduated from UCLA. You’d made things too hot in Sandbridge –all you did there was chase boys get into fights and stay in trouble. So after college your Mom packed you off to Europe and that’s when you got your breaks. You’d have been 23 by then. You’re a lot older than you let on.”
Heather reddened. “You should remember what Oscar Wilde said’” One should never trust a woman who tells one her real age” Who brought you anyway? I'm going to get a drink.”
"I’ll get you one” Kelly said. I Heather was cagey; she didn't want to give too much away too soon. Kelly kept probing and throwing in suggestions for contracts and snippets of information which might help Heather's enquiries. I wondered why- Kelly was up to something but what? She soon had Heather talking freely about her investigations- though not so much about the results. Still there were enough salacious titbits to let us all know West was onto some big scandals.
“Muckraker, how dare you spew forth such shit! “Catherine Medici’s voice boomed over the conversation. “How did you get invited to this- it’s supposed to be for professional people- not for scandal mongers like you!”
"Just a minute, gang. I hear an abrasive screeching somewhere. Well look! It's one of those harpies of Greek mythology! I thought Jason and the Argonauts had dealt with those bitches years ago! I suppose there are two options. Either I'll have to slay this one tonight – or at least beat the crap out of it right here and now –physically. Or I‘ll have to do it later- in print. Or perhaps I might do both" West spun round, pulled out a piece of paper from her Gucci bag and read in measured tones- written up in advance, probably after a meeting with her attorney, “I have said nothing that cannot be substantiated by documents currently in my possession and verified by witnesses as accurate or by sworn statements of witnesses. While my investigations remain incomplete I prefer not to discuss them in detail.” She turned winked at us, and then smiled evilly at Catherine. "So there, Ms Medici!"
The quiet legalese seemed to inflame Catherine more- perhaps it was meant to. “You muckraking tart, you should watch a little closer to home. Martin Kelly isn’t exactly squeaky clean.”
“You leave my man out of it. No one has accused him of anything. For that matter no one is saying you’ve done anything wrong.”Heather West paused and looked Catherine in the eye before adding just one word. “Yet.”
“Bitch!”Catherine hissed.
Heather seized Catherine’s swinging wrist before it landed on the blonde’s face. “Not here Medici but I believe they have a gym which would be empty just now.”
The small group – Henri, Catherine, Heather, Kim and Michael and Kelly and I made our way down.
I overheard Kim whispering to Michael, “I wish Kelly Haldane would leave well alone. She set this up to score off Medici. She got West here, she primed West up so she’d tell us about her investigation She knew Medici would be here. She knew she’d hear West. Kelly wanted this, she made it happen.”
Michael said something – I didn’t catch it.
“Why darling? Because Kelly thinks she owns me. She didn’t like what Medici said about me last week. In exactly the same way as she wouldn’t like Medici saying something about that new apartment Peter and Kelly moved into. She thinks she owns me and she resents criticism. She wants to punish Medici for criticising “her actress.”As if I can’t stand on my own feet. But Kelly doesn't want me to. She wants me to keep begging for favours. She must know West’s reputation- yes West’s an arrogant bitch she fights more than me. So she set them up to fight. She should let me fight my own battles. I’d put Medici in her place if I wanted to.”
We got to the gym where the two contestants kicked their shoes off, removed their jewellery and squared up.
At first sight the two were an ill matched pair even though they were about the same height. Heather West was lean, she looked fit. Her two children one of them was to her first husband, the other were the result of what she called a casual affair hadn't made much impact on her body. Despite the cold, she wore a scarlet lightweight, tight sheath dress. From the high neckline to just above her 36C bust, it was filmy, creamy lace, as were the three quarter sleeves. It was a revealing dress, and what it revealed was a very taut body. And like every California beach bunny she had long hair- her blonde tresses reached down to below her shoulders. Or they had done, for she spent a few moments tying them up in a bun.
Catherine Medici was much heavier indeed, facing Heather she looked overweight even flabby though she was still trimmer than most middle aged women .She wore what my mother would have called ‘sensible’ or comfortable’ clothes. Her knee length dress had full sleeves. It was gathered around the bust and waist but loose fitting elsewhere.
Heather darted forward, then as Catherine too closed, skidded to a stop a couple of feet outside Catherine’s range. She sidestepped. Catherine committed to her attack blundered on. Heather sent both her fists into the brunette’s side and then as Catherine turned, into her midriff as well. ” So glad you could come!”Heather sneered. Catherine gagged, she doubled up wheezing. She staggered forward as if to head butt Heather. Heather sidestepped and punched hard at Catherine’s side. The punch hit. Catherine gagged, her face whitened momentarily. Then as the still gasping brunette began to stand again Heather started to smack. Swinging from her hips, she sent blow after blow at the brunette’s face. Some Catherine deflected but most hit home.
Kelly nudged me, I looked where she was looking: at Kim and Michael. Kim clutched Michael’s arm tightly, her eyes shone with excitement, she seemed to be trying to suppress a smirk. She was all but cheering for Heather.
Spluttering and cursing under her breath Catherine backed off quickly. She brought her fists up defensively. Heather followed her successful attacks with another punch to Catherine’s stomach. The brunette groaned and grunted “Shit!”. She proved she’d been a fighter before when she stepped forward and ducked below a stiff right punch. She fired a couple of left hooks into Heather’s ribcage. Heather grunted from the hard punches delivered with all the brunette’s weight behind them . Heather turned sideways, dropping an arm to protect her flank. Catherine powered her right fist into Heather’s cheek. Heather grunted and backed away.
The two women closed again. Once again at the last moment possible Heather sidestepped. More prepared this time Catherine turned with her but was still slugged with a left right combo to her middle which left her staggering. She regrouped quickly and slugged away herself with a straight jab that snapped the blonde’s chin back and up just as Heather was stepping forward , her fists lowered to hammer the reeling brunette. Surprised Heather had no defence for a moment and Catherine hammered away at the blonde’s sides. She smirked at the groans and grunts.
Kim stood tapping her feet, arms crossed. “West should have tried something different! You can’t expect the same trick to work twice in a row.” She glared across the room at Henri who seemed from his nonplussed look to be wondering what exactly his wife had got herself into.
Heather closed and clinched, seizing hold of Catherine’s waist to steady herself . Catherine’s hands reached behind her foe’s head to grasp two handful of hair, pulling them loose from the bun. She jerked Heather’s head bending it back. A cursing Heather followed, grabbing fistfuls of brunette hair. The two women danced around the room, their hands buried deep in each other’s hair, tugging, twisting. Heather took the advantage, hauling hard on Catherine, making the brunette squeal and groan more than her enemy made her squeal. It seemed Heather had a higher pain threshold. She kept pulling and tugging- every so often yanking a complete clump of brunette hair from her foe's scalp. Catherine's attempted fight back stalled as Heather yanked her down bending her double. Heather kept shaking Catherine's head, as she dragged the squealing brunette around , still bent double. She tried to force her to her knees but Catherine stayed at least partly upright.
Heather cussed “get down bitch!” then tried to kick . Instead she stumbled as her leg rose and as Catherine shoved hard.
It's that sheath dress, it's too tight for her to kick.” Kim gripped Michael's arm anxiously.
“Stupid woman. She had Medici.” Kelly stared at Kim, “All she needed was patience.”
Kim knowing the jibe was meant for her seemed to huddle into Michael’s side.
Instead of staying down as Heather commanded, Catherine twisted and yanked Heather's hair. She shoved her head into the blonde's stomach. Heather yelped. Catherine stood upright. They remained locked together, neither willing to let go.
“Catherine’s' too arrogant to break away.” Kelly sneered. “She should have taken the chance to regroup.
Kim stage whispered- a soft comment apparently to Michael but meant for all to hear. “Catherine’s arrogant, Heather’s stupid, I’m impatient. What a pity we can’t be as perfect as Kelly.”
Kelly flushed. She pretended to watch the fight. It was worth watching.
Catherine stepped back half a pace to put a bit of distance between her and heather as the blonde continued to ravage and tear the brunette's scalp.
“Ooohf” Heather groaned, spittle bursting from her mouth. Catherine had kneed her in the stomach. The brunette, grasping the blonde's hair tightly repeated the blow . Heather gagged, her grip weakened, she stood puffing. Catherine tried to push away. Heather tightened her grip, she yanked. It lacked the force she'd exerted a few seconds before. Catherine swung her knee up again. Heather turned to the side, the knee thudded into her ribs. From Heather's groan it clearly hurt. The blonde mastered that pain, yanking Catherine as the brunette tried to knee her a third time. Catherine's grasp of Heather's hair saved her from falling. She stumbled, dragging Heather down as well. The two women, unwilling to give way swayed locked together by their hands in each other’s hair. Heather’s mouth hung open as she gulped air. She’d been nearly winded by Catherine’s kneeing. She tried to drive the brunette down again , dragging her head. She succeeded in forcing Catherine to bend at the waist. The brunette struggled as Heather forced her lower, her head down to the blonde’s boobs, then down further. Heather’s success was short lived as Catherine’s foot lashed out , pounding Heather’s stomach. Again spittle and air rushed from Heather’s mouth as she groaned. Catherine forced herself upright. Heather’s eyes rolled back when Catherine’s knee again pounded the blonde’s belly. Heather let go of Catherine's hair , clapped her hands on the brunettes' shoulders and shoved. She managed to break away despite Catherine’s attempt to hold her in place for another kneeing.
Catherine came after the gasping almost winded blonde. She began with light jabbing punches, mixing them up -one to the face, another to the upper body, another to the gut then one to the head again. She was testing the blonde's defences. Satisfied Heather was still out of puff, Catherine fired a barrage of much harder punches, some Heather deflected, some she dodged. The first to break through hit the blonde's cheek,; it might have broken her nose had Heather not swung her face at the last moment. It was enough to rock her head . Catherine followed that with some that Heather deflected till Catherine's fist pounded the blonde's gut, Heather gagged. She tried to respond with a looping right fist which Catherine avoided by swinging to her side. She pivoted forward and fired a quick jab to Heather's chest. Heather parried that but not Catherine's kick to the belly. Once more air and spittle whooshed from Heather's mouth. She stumbled back her hands up defensively.
“Another mistake.”Kelly sneered. “West trips over her ego again.”
I looked around, Kim stood, her hand wrapped around Michael’s waist, breathing heavily, her bosom heaving. She looked relieved – I guessed that Heather had survived that round. “She’s doing ok, “she raised her voice. “Take it to her Heather, Medici started this.”
“I thought you said they’d both been manipulated into this fight” Michael said.
“Catherine was the aggressor, anyway West can only be a muckraker if there is muck to rake.”
“Cougars are as aggressive as any other cat.”Kelly smirked.
“But they are solitary, there is never an alpha Cougar, my love.”I replied. “She-wolves on the other hand,” I thought, looking at Kelly.
Both fighting cougars had taken a battering, Catherine’s scalp was visible where patches of her hair had been torn, her face was beet red from where Heather had smacked it and bruises were forming from where Heather had punched. The blonde was no better, her face marked and cut- with blood oozing from the worst of those cuts. Catherine used her wedding and engagement rings –the only jewellery she hadn’t taken off as weapons, and they had scored the deeper cuts. Both women were wheezing.
Catherine, apparently fresher than the blonde strode forward and fired a couple of stiff jabs . The first Heather parried, the second struck the blonde’s jaw. Heather countered with a right to Catherine’s face. The brunette was too slow in evading. The blow struck her eye as she turned away. She hissed and turned back, stepping inside Heather’s reach and firing some punches at the blonde’s ribs. Heather dropped her arm to protect herself. Catherine’s smirk told us all how she enjoyed Heather’s gasps and increased defensiveness as the brunette took the attack to the now stumbling blonde- punching her chin, then kicking her thigh. Each blow elicited a groan.
“Take it to her!” Kim cried.
Again Heather dropped back to recover and collect her defence. Catherine maintained pressure, kicking at the blonde’s thigh which Heather just avoided by half diving, half leaping to her side. She was not so lucky when Catherine darted the same way, seizing a fist full of blonde hair as it swirled in the air. She yanked hard, pulling Heather sideways, swinging her by her hair as she herself got almost behind the blonde. Certainly the blonde couldn’t see where the brunette’s roundhouse punch hammered into her head. Heather gasped and staggered. Catherine shot out her left arm pushing Heather's shoulder so hard, the blonde all but lost her footing. Catherine yanked on her hair, this time dragging her back towards her. She slammed her knee into Heather's side. Heather lashed out wildly. She struck Catherine's neck. She clawed it, her sharp nails scoring deep gashes. Beads of blood coalesced into trickles. Catherine squealed and let Heather go.
Heather was battered. Her body showed the damage Catherine had inflicted on her in the last few moments. She gagged and spluttered. She rallied, turned towards her attacker and started to circle her foe, her fists up. Catherine responded, attacking and landing a few shots. Heather though pulled her shots. Each fell short of Catherine. Then she let go with a fist to Catherine's face. Catherine swung to avoid the blow that would have hammered her face. She brought her fists up, realising that Heather had been foxing.
“Oh yes!”Kim encouraged.
Heather dropped her right shoulder, ducking she drove her fist into Catherine’s unprotected midsection. Catherine reeled, her pale face and wide eyes showing the shock of the blow. She stepped back but was unable to dodge Heather’s follow up punch that socked her jaw. Her eyes seemed to roll back, she emitted a long “Ooh” and all but fell.
Heather seemed too tired to fully take advantage. She slapped hard, she stepped up to Catherine but the brunette was able to escape, to retreat and regroup. For perhaps thirty seconds she dodged Heather, firing a few punches to keep the blonde at bay. A dogged Heather kept applying pressure and was rewarded when she stepped inside the brunette’s range. She accepted a looping punch to her ribs. She winced. She fired a punch to Catherine’s chin. Too late Catherine turned her head to avoid the punch. It hammered her cheek, snapping her head back . She grunted and stumbled, her hands windmilling. Heather took her time, feinting with her left at Catherine’s face again. Slowly Catherine brought her fists up defensively, just as Heather dropped her shoulder again and fired her right into Catherine’s midriff. The brunette folded over the blonde’s fist. Heather bobbed down; she fired another punch, an uppercut that slammed into Catherine’s chin, driving the brunette up again. Heather sent her right into Catherine’s stomach. Catherine fell to the floor. She lay there gasping groaning. Heather took her back, locked her legs around her trunk and her right arm under her chin, With her left arm behind Catherine's head, she grasped her right bicep and tightened up. Heather rolled over onto her back, bringing Catherine with her and stretched her out into a perfect rear naked choke. Catherine passed out in seconds.
“Well, well, well. The hadaka jime is your favourite move, just as I was told.”Kelly smiled.
Kim raced over, from somewhere she’d got some water and towels. She helped Catherine wake up and cleaned her wounds. Then with Henri she helped Catherine stand. Michael looked at her. “Yes Michael, Catherine needs some help. “
.
“Well, shit! That was fun! This won’t appear in my expose.” Heather said. “But you will none the less. And remember you got your tits handed to you by Heather-by God-West!"” She panted , bent over and supported herself by grasping her knees. She shook her head slowly. She stretched and winced. Clearly just about every muscle hurt. She turned to Henri. “I may be malicious, but there’ll be no actual malice –not in the legal sense- in anything I write about your wife. “.
Catherine glowered, Henri muttered something.
“Don't be foolish” Kim was the voice of reason, “I'll help you to your car. I'll be back.”
Then with Henri and Kim's help Catherine tottered from the room.
Heather smiled. “I got her ass! One more for the collection.”
A few minutes later Kim returned with a bottle of champagne and a tray of cheese and crackers. She put the drink and tray down, embraced Heather then ducked over to kiss and hug Michael, wrapping her arm round his waist as if she was afraid he’d run away .“ Michael I may not like the bitch but I went to help her. I’m compassionate.”
“You!”Kelly snapped. “Rubbish. I think you know a bit of your Bible. And even if you don’t you apply part of it very well. As St Paul wrote “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” You did that very well to Catherine, you made her squirm. Well done Kim.” She raised her glass.”
Kim reddened. She turned away . “Forget that. Let's celebrate,”
And we did. Kelly proposed a toast “To the victrix of the Country Club Clash”
Heather smiled. "You know, this reminds me of the time years ago at a swanky party when I was twentyone. My mom and I fought these two bitches at the Sandbridge Country Club back in Cali. We got our asses kicked. Redemption, baby!" She raised her wine glass. "This one's for you, Mom ..."
With special thanks to the wonderful Braveheart for allowing me to use his character Heather (Wild Wild) West and for his suggestions that have made this into what I hope is an entertaining story and to the delightful Kimberlythesp for her encouragement. 
