The Life and Opinions of Maf the Dog, and of His Friend Marilyn Monroe by Andrew O’Hagan Read Free Book Online

upstairs. All the while Natasha grew more outrageous, more sexy, more Natalie.
    Seeking a part for herself in Frank’s current preoccupations, she decided to ask him about the Kennedy campaign. Natalie had an instinctive adoration of the high-ranking. ‘Well, we got him elected,’ Frank said. ‘We did the fundraisers. We got him elected. Let’s see if TP can’t keep his promises.’
    ‘TP?’ said Mrs Gurdin.
    ‘The President, Mama.’ Natalie swung round with a little too much energy. ‘They’re the Jack Pack,’ she said.
‘You’re cute,’ said Frank. She giggled in the way that girls always giggled around Sinatra, loading every chime with a sonorous appeal for approval. Frank loved it. Frank beamed. ‘As the man said, he’s the nation’s favourite guy.’
‘He cares for the underdog,’ said Natalie.
‘That’s right, sister,’ said Frank. ‘That’s my bag, too. I believe in the Bill of Rights. That’s why I wanted to hire one of the blacklisted guys to write that war picture. And you know what the Hearst papers did? They murdered me, honey. The bums mugged me. I’m talking about the Hearst papers. John Wayne. General Motors. Cardinal Spellman. It was a high-end lynch mob, honey, and I’ll never forgive them. Maybe Kennedy can make a difference in this country. I’ve been fighting against lynch mobs all my life. But I had to lose the writer.’
‘Wayne’s a fink,’ said Natalie.
‘Jesus,’ said Frank. ‘The guy’s been out of line for thirty years. He’s a nut.’ He made as if to wave the subject out of the way, but he had more to add. ‘I tell you, princess. That fella would throw a thousand better fellas in prison, just to show he’s the big tough marshal in town. He’d burn a thousand books to avoid reading one. That’s a fact, Mrs Gurdin. Well, what can I tell you? John Wayne is a shmuck. He’s a loser. And there’s no part for losers in the new game.’
‘Kennedy!’ said Natalie, like a groupie.
‘That’s right, princess.’
A shadow flickered in the hall and then I heard a thump on the stairs and a door closing. ‘That election was in the bag, made in the shade,’ said Frank. ‘Success guaranteed. It might have been close, but to me it was always a cert. We did a lot of campaigning in Hawaii.’ He tilted his glass to the barman, as if re-settling a score. ‘But there’s a lot to fix in this country. Some Charlies want to hold the world back and I’m talking Democrats, too. You know Sammy got booed by those sons-of-bitches from Mississippi when we were singing “The Star-spangled Banner”? Right there at the Convention when Jack got the nomination.’
‘Well,’ said Natalie, a flush coming into her cheeks. Pleasure, I thought. She had the clever pupil’s delight at finding herself ready with an answer. ‘Dr King’s father was ready to vote Republican. He said he would be voting for Mr Lincoln’s party.’
‘Jack was on to that,’ said Sinatra. ‘When they arrested King and put him up there in Reidsville prison, Jack called his wife. The wife’s pregnant. Jack calls her to say he’s thinking about her. Is that classy, or what?’
Frank was so jumpy he couldn’t really sit down, and he nearly tripped over me several times before we were introduced. Talking about Kennedy seemed to make him worse. ‘Maria,’ he said to Mrs Gurdin, pacing back from the windows, ‘I brought you a little smile-maker. All pretty girls should have presents.’ Mrs Gurdin touched her throat and behaved as if her pleasure had caught her by surprise. She stripped the ribbon and the paper from the package he handed her and found inside a blue Fabergé box. I lay on the floor and put my head between my front paws.
‘Oh, Mr Sinatra,’ she said, tears coming into her eyes, ‘this is absolutely beautiful.’ She spread her hands over me and lifted me up to his face. ‘This little one is your dog,’ she said. You got the feeling his blue eyes were able to watch