David And His Housekeeper. A Short Story

I've received a few emails asking me to write more short stories. 

It's very flattering, that in my self-taught English, and being myself dyslexic, I've managed to write stories which some David Cassidy's fans have liked. However it's not easy to write something not banal, cheesy or in poor taste. 

So I have nothing new, but only yesterday while throwing away old papers and calendars I found something I completely forgotten about. It's because it was written during the worst holiday I've ever had. Actually at the time I had a nervous breakdown.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F__G0U8GmrM

It was in December of 2021, and being in a really bad condition physically and mentally, on the spur of the moment, I decided for 2 week holiday in Egypt, just before Christmas. Already when we landed I didn't want to leave the plane, I felt I had made a horrible mistake. And it was a nightmare. 

First of all it was still very hot, even the sea was too warm for my liking, a hotel in the middle of nowhere, impossible to go anywhere, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't concentrate on reading, and what's more 98% of other guests were Russians. It was just several weeks before the war started. I have nothing against Russian people, I even had some Russian friends in the past..but when in a group..I was certain I was going to die in Egypt, and would never leave that hotel (btw it was very grand) and see my family again.

David Cassidy has saved me. First I translated 'Billy and Blaze' for my grandson. I've been listening to DC reading those wonderful stories, and not only translated them into Polish but also I made a real book with my own drawings. It took me two days and one night.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLi1YI1ORno&t=3s

Still 12 or 11 days left. And suddenly while sitting on the beach surrounded by those Russian holidaymakers I had an idea. It was originally an idea for a script. A film about DC. Narrated by someone who knew him very well but who wasn't known or had a real relationship with him. Someone who witnessed his struggles, his fights with his teen idol image. His housekeeper. I think I shouted 'bingo!' when I had this idea and some Russians looked at me in amazement. 

I couldn't remember anything about her, her name or age, when exactly she worked for him and in which of his houses, nothing. I just remembered reading once something what DC had said about her. How she cared about him, his meals etc, that she was a friend and they never had sex. 

So I had to invent everything myself, and of course it was just for me, something to help me getting  to the end of that awful holiday. You can now read what I wrote on the beach in Egypt, in December of 2021. I wanted to write more after returning home, but I've just completely forgotten about it.

So the day is September 2, 1972. Convention Hall, Atlantic City, NJ. The pic, Mona Fowler. The David Cassidy Official Website.

Katherine had enough. She couldn't stand another minute in the crowd of screaming, shouting, jumping teenage girls and watching him perform in those insane conditions. It was his second concert that day, and she knew he played concerts nearly non stop this summer. She couldn’t stand the stuffy hall any longer. Noise, the sound systems problems. The breaks during which his stage manager ordered girls to sit down. Even David himself asked girls to sit..and listen.That was the worst..that they didn’t. They talked with each other and laughed when they didn’t know the song. It was like being at the school ball or a sports event, the music wasn’t important. Just excitement

The concert was coming nearly to the end, when he sat at the piano and started playing and singing..’There’s an aching in my head..She wanted to hit the girls sitting next to her who were yelling for whatever reason. Instead she stood up, and started to squeeze into the exit. 

The hall wasn’t full and at the back there was quite a lot of space, the noise not so hard to endure, and a more mature audience, paramedics, police officers, parents..they looked in amazement on the scene and a very slim boy in a skin tight silver suit singing about his heartbreak.. 

When she was almost at the exit she noticed that her blouse was unbuttoned at the front and that a man who was standing by the door was staring at her black bra. What a nightmare. She was sweaty, tousled and she realized that actually  had lost two buttons while jostling in the crowd. ‘Just wonderful’ she thought.

The man, in his 40s, looked like a fat Humphrey Bogart. He was leaning against the wall and watched with interest at a tall, attractive dark blond young woman as she walked towards the door, her head held high, not paying attention to her unbuttoned blouse.

When he grabbed her arm she was surprised, but just said :

‘Please let me go immediately.’

Now he was surprised by her strong, non-objectionable voice, and did what was told.

He couldn’t let her go.

‘Wait, I have a proposition for you”

‘Oh really. I don’t think so’.

He walked out after her, outside it was quite dark,

not windy, chilly.

The woman stood for a moment to take off her bag

a packet of cigarettes.

She was searching for a lighter in vain and he

handed her his own.

For a few minutes they stood together in silence,

just smoking and looking at the parking lot full of cars.

‘Say it. I’m grateful for the lighter, so go on..’

“Oh really..Just tell me why you are here.’

‘What do you mean, why? I’ve wanted to hear

him singing ..live.’

“And?”

“You are a fan? Or an uncle or something?”

He really looked like Bogie in need of losing

a little weight. The same sad stare.

“Just tell me.”

“He was..amazing. Better than anything

I’ve imagined. Captivating.

Great stage presence. Satisfied?”

She threw the cigarette butt on the pavement.

Suddenly the door opened, they heard the concert was still going on, and the tall man sighed in relief seeing ‘Bogie’.”Frank! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Hurry up!”

‘Bogie’  grabbed her arm.

“Again..!’

‘'I will be waiting for you in an hour at The Claridge’s lobby’

And he disappeared inside the building.

What the..Who was that guy? And why he was needed..She was sitting in her old Ford Mustang for at least 20 minutes. She couldn’t find a safety pin in a glove compartment, so just put on her Burberry trench, fastened all the buttons and squeezed tightly with her belt. She did her hair and  makeup and at last left with a firm resolve to return home.

But as she passed The Claridge she slowed down, something suddenly occurred to her..’It can’t be..But if..Is it possible?’. She had nothing to lose, it was Saturday, no work tomorrow and John was away visiting his parents.

She found a parking place and  slowly walked towards the hotel. There was still some time left. Groups of girls were standing outside the hotel talking and laughing loudly. Suddenly she felt old and out of place.’What I’m doing here..I’m not an average fan..Why..Oh you stupid girl, so naive..My bra and that stare..’ Now she remembered the article in Rolling Stone. She didn’t buy it, but one of her friends had a copy and she showed her..The pics.. and they gossiped about a teen idol who liked sex..For a moment she wanted to turn back..but..it was too tempting.

In the lobby despite the late hour were a lot of people, they were talking and you could feel the excitement and anticipation. She stood aside, ‘Bogie’ was nowhere to be seen, but suddenly someone grabbed her arm.

"Come with me’

‘This is the third time you are doing this. How am I to explain those bruises to my boyfriend?’

“A boyfriend? You don’t mind that we use the stairs?’

“No, I don’t, but I can walk on my own”

They climbed five floors in silence and didn’t meet anyone on their way.

The corridor was empty, this time he didn’t grab her arm, she just followed him, and ‘Bogie’ knocked the door at the end. It was opened by the same tall man. Behind the door was a suite. From behind the closed door on the left came laughter and the buzz of the conversation, nothing was heard behind the closed door on the right.

‘Sorry’, ‘Bogie’ grabbed her arm again and pulled her in the direction of the second room.. He opened the door carefully and quietly, pushed her inside and very quickly shut the door behind her. Everything happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to protest or even say anything.

Only one table lamp was lit in the room, it was standing on the bed table, and on the bed..

she tiptoed..David Cassidy was laying there, naked. Or nearly naked, covered to the half of the body with a sheet..or nearly half of the body..His eyes were closed. She stood motionless, just couldn’t believe her eyes. A man child..so slim..so beautiful..how long eyelashes he had..and his hair. He looked so young, Peter Pan..

Slowly she began to turn around when suddenly strong, long fingers tighten on her wrist. She turned her head and they watched each other in silence. His eyes looked dark in the dim light. Huge and bottomless, very serious and very tired.

‘Can you fetch me a glass of water. The jug is on the table’ he spoke very quietly in a hoarse voice’. ‘Oh sorry’, he let her hand.

When she returned with two glasses he sat leaning against the pillows, the sheet stopped at the hip line. They were drinking in silence, she was still standing by the bed.

‘That’s better, it’s always like that after the concert.’ his voice was a little bit stronger ‘Why are you in a coat?’

“You don’t ask who or why I’m here?’

“An attractive woman who visits me in my bedroom late at night’

In spite of herself she smiled. He smiled too, she never saw such a captivating smile in her life.

‘So why? The coat.’

‘I’ve lost some buttons from my blouse..during your concert’

‘Wow, that’s something. So you have been at my concert? Do you like it?’

‘Do I like it? I love it!”

Without an invitation she just sat on the bed and started talking. She never told  anyone how she loved his voice, his music, how she became a fan, how nearly a year ago she bought his first solo album, she didn’t know why, it was just an impulse.

And later she bought everything that he ever recorded. How listening to his songs made her happy. And that she started playing the guitar again, because of him.

She became so excited that in one moment she stood up and while talking she started walking around the room and unbuttoning her coat, it was very warm. Only when she stood by the bed again and saw his smile..

‘Oh sorry, I’ve been carried away and forgotten about those buttons.’

‘No, no, that’s ok’ he grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit next to him on the bed.’You look great! ' They laughed. 

Someone knocked violently on the door. ‘David!!”

He grimaced terribly’

‘It’s ‘Bogie’ she whispered.

He laughed again “Frank..I’ll call him that’

‘David!! The mayor is waiting for you! I’m coming in”

“No! Just 2 minutes”. He put her face in both hands and gently kissed her on the lips.

“What’s your name? You know mine, so it’s not fair.’

She smiled again ‘Yes, even your middle one…Katherine’

‘Katherine, my own fan. Thank you, you have no idea what it means to me. Please leave Bogie your telephone number, will you?”