Даниэла Стил - Finding Ashley [calibre]

—

Michaela slept for a few hours and then wandered around the suite like a ghost, but she didn’t want to leave the hotel. Fans were already gathering outside. Someone had leaked to the press that Marla’s daughter was there.

The Scottish authorities signed the death certificate by six o’clock that night, and the paperwork to allow them to remove the body and leave the country with it. There had been no foul play, so they released it. And at nine o’clock, a chartered Boeing 737 was waiting at the Edinburgh Airport, ready to take her home. Michaela left the hotel by a back door with Melissa. The producer was staying in Edinburgh to deal with the families of the two male stars. They were sending their bodies home on commercial flights, which was more complicated. They had bent all the rules and cut through all the red tape to release Marla’s remains as fast as possible, but they weren’t able to do it for all three.

The plane took off at ten o’clock as soon as their flight plan was approved. It was going to be a twelve-hour flight, due to land at LAX at two a.m. local time. A police escort was waiting to accompany Marla’s body in the casket to the funeral home, where she was to be cremated. A separate motorcade was waiting to take Michaela to her home with Melissa. Crowds were already gathering in the street and at the airport, to get a glimpse of Michaela, or the casket. The street where Marla lived had been closed since that morning, with thousands of people laying flowers in the street outside her home, and just standing there crying. There was a candlelight vigil that night, which the police made no attempt to stop, although it tied up the whole neighborhood for blocks, and residents who drove in had to leave their cars blocks from their homes. In her death she was being treated like royalty, and Melissa wondered what Marla would have thought of it, since she seemed like a sensible person. But she was a Hollywood legend, the last of the great, glamorous stars. Other movie stars had been interviewed all day, paying tribute to her, which they did lavishly.

Michaela was so overwrought that she slept for most of the flight, and only woke up for the last hour. She washed her face and brushed her hair, changed to a black blouse and a blazer, and her looks made Melissa think of Jackie Kennedy’s return from Dallas after JFK was shot. Michaela looked a little like her, minus the pink bloodstained suit.

—

When they landed, police were standing on the runway, and escorted Michaela into a waiting black van, and spirited her away with Melissa beside her. The casket was removed separately into another unmarked van, and it proved to be complicated to get it to the funeral home, but they managed it with the help of the Los Angeles police.

David was waiting for them at home, and Michaela nearly collapsed in his arms, and then they sat in the living room and talked for a while. Michaela thanked Melissa for everything she’d done in the last twenty-four hours.

“The city has gone insane,” David told Michaela. “Streets are closed, people are crying in the street, they estimate a hundred thousand at the vigil tonight. You can’t get within five blocks of her house. To tell you the truth, I think she would have loved it,” he said, and Michaela laughed and thought about it.

“I think she would have too.”

“This is like mourning royalty. The queen of England or something. The funeral is going to be complicated,” he said. “We had three hundred people on the list. Her assistants called and sent emails and texts, requesting an immediate response. They all accepted. We can accommodate them in the church, and they’re closing the highway to the cemetery so the paparazzi can’t get to us.” David put Michaela to bed then. The kids were sound asleep and hadn’t been able to go out all day. He took Melissa to the guest room after she said good night to her daughter. Michaela was still looking dazed but a little better than before.

In the morning when Melissa woke up, feeling like someone had battered her body with a lead pipe, after all the stress and travel of the day before, Andrew was standing next to her bed in the guest room, staring down at her, and Alexandra was next to him.

“Our Gigi Marla died,” he told her solemnly. “She was our grandma, but we weren’t supposed to say it. She didn’t like that word. Now we have you,” Andy said practically, summing up the situation, to explain it to Melissa. “You’re our grandma too,” Alexandra informed her. “She fell down in an airplane. It fell down in a storm. It was a helipopter. And God took her out of the helipopter and took her straight up to Heaven. She’s there now,” she said. “I miss her. Can we play Barbies now on my iPad?”

“Sure,” Melissa said, and Alexandra climbed into bed with her in her nightgown. Andrew was wearing his Superman pajamas. Alexandra had brought the iPad with her and turned it on. They were supposed to dress Barbie dolls on the screen in a multitude of costumes. Being a grandmother, especially to a little girl, was new to Melissa, but she’d had fun with them when they’d visited her in the Berkshires.

“You know, your snowman was still there yesterday. He’s a little lopsided, but he’s still there,” Melissa told them.

“I want to visit you again,” Andrew said, climbing onto the bed too, and he made a face when he saw the Barbies. Michaela found the three of them there, intent over the iPad, when she came to look for the children a few minutes later. She looked much better, and more human.

“Did they wake you up?” she asked Melissa.

“No, I was awake,” Melissa said, grinning.

“We’re dressing Barbie,” Alexandra told her mother.

“Barbie is stupid,” Andrew said.

“So is Superman,” Alexandra shot back at him.

“That’s enough. Go eat your breakfast,” Michaela told them, and they scampered off.

“Sorry if they woke you,” Michaela apologized.

“They’re adorable.”

Michaela had explained about her mother, but she didn’t want them at the funeral. They were too young and it would be too upsetting.

There was supposed to be a rosary that night, but the police said it would be too difficult to contain, so they were having Marla’s closest friends to Michaela and David’s house instead, about fifty of them, for champagne. She would have liked that better. And the number had grown to a hundred by noon.

The funeral was going to be the next day, and the burial immediately following, with a reception for Marla’s friends and colleagues at her home afterward. It was a major production. Her three assistants were handling it. They were camped out in Michaela’s dining room, and checked with her every five minutes about some detail, wanting her approval.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Michaela said as they sat in the kitchen, and David joined them.

“Of course it was going to be like this. She was the biggest, most glamorous star in the world. She was a legend. This is Old Hollywood, and she would have loved every minute of it. I’m sure she’s watching and beaming from ear to ear,” he said, and Michaela laughed.

“If you need to get away, you can come and stay with me,” Melissa offered.

“I think it will die down pretty fast,” Michaela said.

“It may take a while,” David said more realistically.

“Thank you for letting me stay here,” Melissa said. She didn’t want to be intrusive, or let Michaela down either, but she was looking better, with her kids and David around, which added an element of normalcy and comfort for her. With all the intense media attention, they were trying to keep it under control, as small as possible, and on a tight schedule so it didn’t turn into a circus. They wanted it to be as quiet and dignified as possible in the circumstances.