THERE is little doubt that Jack "The Lad" Thompson used his relationship with two sisters during the 1970s to boost his image as a sex symbol and loveable larrikin. In 1974, he was interviewed by a journalist for the first time about the unusual arrangement and the subsequent story was published in The Daily Telegraph with the headline, "Jack and his Jills".
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While the women weren't named, those in the close-knit film industry had been aware for some time that Jack's "two Jills" were sisters Leona, known as Le, and Bunkie King.
Thompson promoted the arrangement as mutually beneficial and built on a foundation of love and respect. It is clear he didn't mind the attention, either.
Bunkie King, who was 15 when she joined her older sister in the three-way relationship, has a very different perspective. In her revealing memoir, Somebody That I Used to Know, King lays bare the powerlessness of her position as the younger, naive lover - she emphasises that she never shared a bed with her sister - and exposes the long-lasting damage of the arrangement.
"The image of me being an amoral, sexually liberated woman could not be further from the reality," she writes. "I am the epitome of the unliberated housewives of the pre-1970s feminist era: no independence, no career, no financial equality."
When Thompson's career took off, King became his secretary while Le managed travel arrangements - even packing Thompson's bags - and kept house. Yes, they attended lavish opening night parties, travelled the world, and enjoyed days in a blissful drug haze at Thompson's northern NSW property, but everyday life was far from glamorous.
Thompson was an avowed philanderer and the women put up with his flings in the same way that they tolerated the presence of each another: it was far from ideal. Thompson is conveyed as a charming, self-absorbed manipulator.
While the dynamic between King and Thompson is pivotal to the narrative, the relationship between the sisters is much more difficult to understand. That Le accepted Thompson's proposal for King to move in with them is unusual enough, but they then live together for the next 15 years and never discuss the arrangement. They are far from bosom buddies: they seem equally trapped, but by what? Love? Infatuation? Lack of self esteem? Probably all of that and more.
There are clues in King's description of her childhood and the fallout of her parents' divorce. Her father starts a new family and seems to readily give up contact with King and her siblings while her mother embraces her rediscovered freedom. King, the youngest, grows up in a state of benign neglect. When the blond, charismatic Thompson shows interest in her after meeting at a party, she becomes besotted. He is almost twice her age, but she is lonely and eager for attention. Thompson soon starts a relationship with Le, but continues to visit King and woo her.
King does not suggest that she was in the relationship against her will, but she was 15 when it began and you sense her confusion and naivety. She stayed for 15 years, even after a dramatic break-up attempt in Spain that saw Thompson abandon her at the airport after ripping up her ticket home. It is often he who behaves like the child.
Somebody I Used to Know documents a complicated, emotionally abusive relationship and, sadly, some of the most heart-wrenching events happen after King eventually leaves and marries. While her husband is anything but a famous actor, he is just as manipulative and the relationship is just as messy.
The sisters have had little contact since King left the three-way relationship, though Le and Thompson remain together. I wonder what they would make of King's honest and unsettling account of their arrangement, which is far from the picture of bohemian bliss it was painted to be.
Somebody That I Used to Know: Love, Loss and Jack Thompson by Bunkie King is published by Five Mile Press, $32.95.