Authors: Jessie Keane
Dolly shrugged. ‘Takings ain’t dipped,’ she said. ‘That’s the main thing. I’d say, no change.’
‘Jesus, just look what the cat’s dragged in,’ said a male voice behind her.
Annie swivelled on her stool and looked round.
Squat, dark-haired Steve Taylor and gangly blond Gary Tooley stood there like a wall of mean muscle. Dusty was with them, scowling at her with her boot-black eyes.
‘Hi, Steve,’ said Annie. ‘And Gary. Always a pleasure.’
‘Smooth
cow
,’ muttered Dusty.
‘Hey!’ said Dolly to her. ‘I don’t want any trouble, you hear me?’
Dusty subsided.
Annie turned back to Dolly, rolling her eyes.
‘You know what?’ Gary was saying loudly enough to be heard over the roar of George Harrison’s guitar. ‘If she was
my
old lady, I’d have fucking well drowned her by now.’
Annie sat there. She was getting tired of this. At least Steve was sharp enough to keep his mouth shut, but Gary just always had to get a little poke in: he couldn’t resist it. She turned and stared at him.
‘And do you know what, Gary?’ she returned. ‘If I was your old lady, I’d drown
myself
.’
‘See? She’s full of it,’ said Dusty, glaring at her.
‘Not that I would ever have got myself tucked up with a long streak of piss like you in the first place,’ said Annie.
Gary’s lips tightened into a furious line.
‘Enough!’ said Dolly, slithering down from the bar stool and thumping the bar with one fist. ‘Now come on, boys and girls. If you can’t play nice, just fuck off out of it.’
Annie glanced back at her best mate and smiled. Now that was Dolly. Telling it exactly like it was, without fear or favour.
Gary gave both women a sneering look. ‘I wouldn’t fucking well lower myself,’ he said.
‘Good,’ shot back Dolly. She clicked her fingers at the barman and he hurried over. ‘Drinks and a meal on the house for Mr Taylor and Mr Tooley, okay?’
Gary didn’t even thank her. He just gave the barman their order, said ‘We’ll be over there,’ and went off with Steve into the crowds to find his usual banquette.
‘He’s a bloody fool,’ said Dolly, hoisting herself back up onto her stool with difficulty. ‘Steve’s the clever one. Daft not to see how the wind’s blowing before you start shooting your mouth off.’
‘Oh, I think they both know which way the wind’s blowing,’ said Annie sadly.
‘What, he still mad at you?’
‘In spades.’
Dolly nodded and sipped her G & T. ‘And he still hasn’t said anything about the club management . . .?’
‘Not a word.’
Annie wished she could reassure Dolly. She was her oldest friend; she was an absolute diamond, solid as a rock and generous to a fault. Ellie was right when she said that Dolly would happily give away her arse and shit out of her armpit. But there was nothing she could say; the last thing she wanted was to give Dolly false hope.
Dolly stared gloomily into her drink.
‘D’you know how Chris is getting on now?’ asked Annie. ‘I thought of phoning Ellie or popping over there, but I’m not her favourite person right now. She blames me for what happened to him. I think she’d lamp me.’
Dolly brightened. ‘I spoke to her this afternoon. He’s doing well, he’s home now. Been given the all-clear.’
Thank God for that.
Annie breathed a sigh of pure relief.
‘And I mentioned how sorry you were about what happened. Not that it was your fault. But I said it, and Ells sort of warmed up a bit, and the bottom line is, I don’t think she’ll lamp you if you want to go over there and make up.’
‘Snooty
cow
,’ she heard from behind her.
She turned a little. Dusty hadn’t followed Steve and Gary over to the banquette. She was leaning on the bar behind Annie, ears flapping as she listened in to their conversation.
‘Still here?’ Annie asked mildly.
‘Yeah,’ said Dusty. ‘And I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you in here any more.’
Annie glanced back at Dolly, whose eyes were wide with amazement at the sheer brass neck of the girl.
‘So you did,’ said Annie. ‘But this’ll be the last time, I promise.’
Dolly’s mouth dropped open.
Dusty eyed Annie suspiciously.
‘Yeah, I give up,’ said Annie. ‘I’m leaving tomorrow, and I won’t be back for a while.’
Dusty’s face was a picture of uncertainty. She’d had a ruck with Annie Carter last time, and come off worst. Was the bitch finally getting the message?
‘Well . . . good,’ said Dusty. ‘If you bloody mean it this time.’
‘I do. I’m leaving for the States tomorrow.’
‘Good.’ Dusty gave her one last derisory stare and started to walk away from the bar to join Gary and Steve.
‘Oh!’ Annie called after her. ‘Did I mention? Max is coming with me . . .’
‘Should I throw my hat in first?’ asked Annie.
She was standing on the doorstep of the knocking-shop in Limehouse. She was still half laughing to herself about Dusty getting carted out of the Palermo by the bouncers, still shrieking at the top of her voice:
I’ll get you, Annie Carter!
Dolly had nearly fallen off her bar stool she was laughing so hard. Max had come back to the club to find both of them in the flat upstairs in a state close to hysterics, and had driven Annie on over to Ellie’s place. Now he was waiting in the car.
Ellie had answered the door and now she stood there looking at Annie. Looking beyond her, Annie could see a couple of the girls – pretty little blonde Rosie and sharp-faced dark-haired Sharlene – clustered on the stairs ready to take in the action.
Ellie looked very stern. Then her face crumpled and she almost smiled.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ she muttered. ‘I s’pose you’d better come in.’
Annie stepped inside the door and flicked a smile at the two girls on the stairs. They retreated upstairs, cheated of a fight. Annie followed Ellie along the hall to the kitchen, and there was Chris sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea.
‘Hey!’ Annie was delighted to see him. ‘For God’s sakes! You’re not back at work already?’
He shrugged his massive shoulders and gave a sheepish smile.
‘It’s better than staying home with me old mum fussing around me,’ he grumbled.
His voice was still hoarse, she noted. But he was suited and booted, ready for the day’s activities. Above the line of his clean white collar and neatly tied navy-blue tie, there was yellowing bruising.
Annie sat down at the table. ‘You sure you’re well enough?’ she asked. Her eyes flickered from his – one eye still bloodshot, she noted – to his neck and then back again.
‘I feel okay,’ he said with a thin smile. ‘Fucking lucky to be alive, I reckon. I just
sound
bad now.’
Annie sat back as Ellie poured out tea for her and placed it in front of her on the table.
‘I’m so bloody sorry, Chris. To get you into a situation like that.’
‘Christ, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. Any rate, it was the most excitement I’ve had in a long time. Better than turfing out lairy old punters with their kecks round their ankles.’
‘So, what you been up to?’ asked Ellie stiffly. Annie could see she wasn’t completely forgiven, not yet. Ellie sat down, sipped her tea.
No biscuits
, thought Annie. That was a first.
‘Dolly told me you’re off to New York tomorrow,’ said Ellie. ‘That right?’
Annie nodded.
‘What about Mr Carter?’
‘He’s coming too.’ Again Annie got a flash of Dusty being bodily hauled out of the club door with her knickers on public display, and had to suppress a smile.
‘You two made it up?’ Chris asked.
‘I dunno. I can’t say. Not yet.’ The whole thing with her and Max was far too complex to start explaining to Chris and Ellie. She didn’t want to go there. She was going to have to fly by the seat of her pants on this one; she was going to have to wing it. And it could turn out bad, or good. She had no idea.
‘There was talk about him wanting to take Layla off you,’ said Ellie.
‘We haven’t discussed that,’ said Annie, drinking her tea.
But he was going to try it. One day soon, for sure. She was just going to have to get in first – and the club’s opening night would be the perfect time to do it. Lots of people about, plenty of confusion. She’d pack a bag beforehand, and they’d slip away. Just her and Layla. Forget Gerda. She was going to have to move fast, and she couldn’t carry any passengers this time.
‘But you’re taking Layla with you tomorrow?’ quizzed Ellie.
‘Yeah.
And
Max – he wants to stick close to her.’
‘See?’ Ellie gave Chris a look. ‘Told you. He’s going to just whip that kid away, first chance he gets.’
Annie finished her tea, very afraid that Ellie was right. He was just biding his time, waiting for the right moment. Well, so was she. She would beat him. She was determined on that. Tomorrow, New York. After that . . . who knew?
‘So what do you think?’ Ellie asked Chris after Annie had departed. ‘Maybe they’ll get back together.’
She sat across the table from him and thought,
I love you.
‘Want a biscuit with that? Or I got some cake . . .?’ Her mum had fed her cake whenever she was low or ill.
‘Actually, no.’
Chris looked down at his cup of tea and then up at Ellie, all dolled up in her Madam’s uniform of neat burgundy-red skirt suit, her dark hair flicked up on her shoulders, her plump, pale-skinned face full of concern for him. She wasn’t anything like his late wife. Nothing at all. But she was a good woman, and pretty, and she cared about him, and she had said in the hospital that she loved him. He had been mulling it over ever since, thinking:
What should I do about that? Anything? Nothing?
‘Actually,’ he said at last, ‘I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Go on then.’ Ellie took a quick swig of tea.
‘Would you come out to dinner with me one night?’
Ellie choked. She spluttered, went puce in the face. Chris leaned over and patted her briskly on the back.
‘
What?
’ she wheezed when she could speak.
‘Dinner. You know. Two people sitting at a table in a restaurant, eating stuff.’
‘Oh.’ She was staring at him.
‘If you don’t want to . . .’ he said.
‘No! Yes! Of course I bloody well want to,’ she babbled. My God! He was asking her out on a date.
‘Well, good.’ Chris gave a slight smile and stood up. ‘I’d better get on the door.’
‘Yeah. Absolutely,’ she said, grinning like a fool.
She watched him walk along the hall and take up his usual position on his seat just inside the door. She clutched her empty mug and beamed with happiness.
Thank you, God,
she thought. And then the doorbell rang; the first punter of the day.
She stood up, straightened her attire, and walked out into the hall with her wide professional smile firmly in place as Chris answered the door.
‘So what do you think?’ asked Annie, coming out of the bedroom.
They had taken a suite at the Waldorf Astoria – she and Max, Layla and Gerda. They’d been touring the city, playing tourist, but now was the club’s opening night.
Max was standing at the window, staring out at New York by night, all lit up like a Christmas tree. ‘Did you know,’ he said, pointing to the shining Art Deco crown of the Chrysler building, ‘that’s over a thousand feet high and it’s got seventy-seven storeys. Ain’t that amazing?’
He turned and looked at her. Annie was wearing a floor-length, slim-fitting Givenchy gown made entirely of black sequins that winked and glittered as she moved. It exposed one bare shoulder in the Grecian style and had a long slit up one thigh.
‘Yeah, that is amazing,’ she said, gliding across the floor towards him. ‘And it’s got stainless-steel gargoyles, did you know
that
?’
‘Jesus.’ Max was staring at her.
‘What?’
‘That’s one hot dress.’
‘You like it?’
He reached for her. ‘I’d like you better out of it,’ he said. Annie skipped nervously out of reach. ‘No time for that.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘We have to go. Right now. I’ve tucked in Layla, Gerda’s right here, all’s well and we have to
go
.’
And it’s best I don’t let you touch me, not tonight. Because I’m all packed up and ready to leave.
‘I’m just going to say goodnight to her.’
Max walked off to Layla’s room. Reluctantly, Annie followed. Gerda was there, just finishing off a story, and their little girl was nodding off sleepily, her dark hair spread over the pillow, her rosebud lips parted as she drifted into dreamland.
‘Sweetheart?’ Max sat down on the bed.
Gerda left the room and Annie stood in the doorway, not wanting to look at this charming scene of father and daughter, but unable to tear herself away.
Layla’s eyes opened and lit up, tired though she was, at the sight of Max.
‘You sleep well now, okay?’ He leaned forward and kissed her soft brow. ‘I love you, baby.’
‘I love you too, Daddy,’ she murmured, her eyes flickering shut.
Max stood up and moved back to the door. Annie stepped back, watching him with troubled eyes as he closed it softly.
She had the plan in place. She’d packed a small bag for her and Layla and hidden it away well out of sight along with the internal air tickets that would take them west to California. Although Alberto, Lucco and Daniella had been invited tonight, and Alberto was almost certain to be there, she was only going to be able to see him briefly, amid the crush of crowds. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to check in with Alberto properly. As for Daniella, Lucco might not go and he might block her attendance tonight too. She would have liked to have been able to meet up for drinks and a proper chat with Daniella, and she was sad that she wouldn’t be able to, but this was what she had to do.
She was going to slip away during the opening party, shoot back here, collect Layla, and head for the airport.