Читать книгу The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4 - Jessie Keane - Страница 24

When Annie pitched up at her mother’s door a week later, Connie tried to shut it in her face, but Annie was quick and shoved her foot in the gap. She pushed hard, forcing her mother out of the way, and strode in.

‘You’re not welcome here,’ snarled Connie.

Annie was looking around her with distaste. She hadn’t been back to this place in months. The room stank of booze and cabbage and urine, there was dust everywhere and the carpets were stained. It was the middle of the day and Connie was still in her dressing gown. It was obvious that without Ruthie’s sobering influence, Connie was sinking further into her dependency on booze.

Annie looked at her mother. Her eyes were puffy, her skin yellower than ever. There was a fag in her hand, as usual, and a vodka bottle not far away, if Annie was any judge.

‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to roll out the red carpet,’ said Annie. ‘I just want to know what’s going on, that’s all.’

‘What do you mean?’ Connie took a deep drag, squinting her pale eyes against the smoke.

‘You’ve been putting the phone down every time I’ve called. So now I’m asking you straight. How’s Eddie?’

‘Eddie Carter’s none of your fucking business.’

‘No, you’re wrong. Celia is worried sick, that makes it my business.’

‘Talk about like taking to like,’ Connie sneered. ‘She’s a tart and so are you.’

Annie gritted her teeth. ‘Just tell me about Eddie, you rotten old cow!’

In her worst nightmares Annie often revisited that awful night. Eddie bleeding like a stuck pig, Darren hysterical, Celia catatonic with shock.

But a calmness had settled over her and somehow she had taken charge. Called the ambulance, got them organized. But the minute she’d phoned Connie, other things had started to happen. Before the ambulance arrived, Gary and Steve, two of Max’s boys, had come and taken Eddie away, bundled him into the back of a car. She would never forget Eddie’s white, tortured face. The ambulance men had arrived six minutes later and so Darren took advantage of the facilities.

‘They told us two casualties,’ said the men, eyeing the bloodied empty bed with suspicion.

‘My mate legged it,’ said Darren, holding a towel to his battered face. ‘We had a fight, it was nothing.’

‘Come on then,’ said one of the men. ‘Let’s get you seen to.’

‘What the fuck did you have to go and tell Connie for?’ Celia asked when they’d gone. She still sat at the kitchen table, her hands shaking, her face blank.

‘They had to know. They’re his family.’

‘He was targeted in my house.’

‘Darren said there was another man with him. Man with a deaf aid.’

‘One of his own?’

‘Seems so.’

‘I hope for his sake he’s a long way away by now,’ said Celia. ‘That’s what I should do. Just take off.’

‘You’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘It happened in my house.’

‘Don’t keep saying that!’

‘Not saying it won’t make it go away. I’m responsible. Me. No one else. Just me.’

After that night things had gone ominously quiet and Celia had seemed to shrink into herself, become smaller somehow.

So here she was, Annie thought bitterly. Back at her dear old mum’s. Who was being a bitch – as usual.

‘Coming round here pretending you give a shit,’ she was yelling. ‘Who do you think you’re kidding?’

And maybe that was justified. Annie knew she should have called before, seen how her mother was getting on. She knew she should have contacted Ruthie long before now, too, and begged her forgiveness – grovelled if necessary – but every time she felt the impulse to get in touch the guilt kicked in and she just couldn’t face it.

‘Is he okay, that’s all I’m asking.’

‘Oh, he’s okay. Half dead, but doing just fine. She must let some scum in there, for a thing like that to happen. But what am I saying? Of course she does, the cheap whore. She let you in.’

Annie raised her hand to hit her mother as hard as she could. She wanted to wipe that pathetic, malicious smile off that drunken, shrivelled face. But she held back.

‘Go on – hit me. Is that what that whore teaches you in that place?’

Annie swallowed her anger and ignored Connie’s taunts.

‘Is he recovered?’ She let her arm drop.

‘He’s dying, you silly cow,’ spat Connie.

‘What?’

‘I’ve got nothing more to say to you.’ She grabbed Annie’s arm and started bundling her back out the door.

‘And Ruthie?’

Annie had to ask the question, much as she really didn’t want to. She was on the step trying to take in what Connie had said about Eddie. If it was true – and why would Connie lie? – Max must be devastated. And when she thought of Max, she thought also of Ruthie. Ruthie must be in the thick of it all, the poor cow.

But Connie didn’t answer.

The door slammed shut. Annie heard the bolt go across.

‘What about Ruthie?’ she asked the closed door. She kicked it once, hard. ‘What about poor bloody Ruthie?’ she repeated hopelessly.

She shouldn’t have come. She’d wrecked everything, why couldn’t she just accept that and leave it alone? Hating herself, she turned and walked away.

When she got back to Celia’s Kieron was there, sitting at the kitchen table talking to Ellie. He looked up as she came in, his eyes laughing.

‘You forgot, didn’t you,’ he said to Annie.

Annie stood dumbstruck. ‘What?’

Ellie got up and left the room, smiling at Annie in passing and mouthing: ‘He’s gorgeous.’

‘You said you were going to sit for me today, at my place. Eleven o’clock. I phoned when you didn’t show up, but Ellie said you’d gone out. I thought I’d come over and wait.’

‘Oh.’ God, how had she forgotten? Her mind was whirling. And Celia had always stressed that she should keep the Delaneys sweet. What a fool she was. ‘I’m sorry. I completely forgot.’

‘Not very flattering,’ said Kieron.

‘Sorry,’ Annie said again.

Kieron looked at her as she sat down. He said: ‘I’m not like the rest of them, you know.’

‘The rest of who?’

‘The Delaneys. I’m not part of that world.’

‘Oh.’

‘So there’s no need to be walking on eggshells trying not to upset me. I won’t take offence. There’ll be no nasty comebacks. Just say if you’ve changed your mind about the sitting.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘Well, good.’

‘I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.’

‘I’ll try to help with that,’ smiled Kieron. ‘You can talk while you sit.’

‘Talk to a Delaney about Carter trouble? I don’t think so,’ said Annie.

‘I told you. I’m not into all that. I’m like a priest, I hear confessions. And the confessional is confidential.’

Annie found herself looking at him properly for the first time. Ellie was right, he was easy on the eye – and so friendly. He stood up. He was tall and gangly, with big bony hands. His jacket was tweed with leather elbow patches. There was a long, unravelling, purple scarf around his neck.

‘You’re staring,’ he said.

‘Sorry.’ Annie stood up, flushing.

‘You think you like the cut of me, do you?’

Annie had to smile too now. ‘I’ll let you know.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘When I’m ready.’

‘I was jealous of my sister, Ruthie,’ Annie said as she sat in Kieron’s flat. It was way up in the top of a house in Shepherd’s Bush, with cold north light streaming through big windows. It was piled high with canvases and stank of paint and linseed and turps. There was a bed and a little kitchenette in one corner, and a Bobby Darin LP was playing on the turntable on the floor. There was a one-bar electric fire at Annie’s feet. It was a workplace rather than a home, but it was kept well.

‘Keep the fuck still, won’t you?’ said Kieron lightly, busy sketching away. ‘Why? Is she prettier than you?’ He stood back from the canvas and looked her over. ‘That’s hard to believe, at the risk of getting you a big head.’

‘She’s not prettier than me,’ said Annie.

‘What then?’

Annie shrugged. ‘Dad left. I was a daddy’s girl. Mum loved Ruthie, not me. I reminded her of Dad.’

‘Ah, that must be the handsome side of the family.’ Kieron was back at the sketching.

‘Are all your family as stunning as your sister Orla?’

‘Redmond is, they’re twins after all. But we’re not talking about my family, remember.’

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay. Keep still, you.’

‘For how long, exactly?’ Annie was squirming on the stool. She couldn’t feel her lower half at all any more, she’d been on this damned stool for an hour. She was cold, despite being wrapped up in cardigan and skirt. ‘And we’re talking about the Carters, let me remind you. My sister’s one of them now.’

‘And happy to be so, I would imagine. Living the high life and enjoying it.’

‘I’ve heard different.’

‘She’s unhappy?’

‘I don’t know. Mum won’t talk to me. She thinks I’m the world’s worst whore because I set out to get my sister’s man.’

‘You can see she’d be peeved.’

‘I was jealous! How many times do I have to say it, I was wild with jealousy. Years and years of it. She had everything I wanted, just the thought of him and her together made me want to rip her eyes out. I was going mental with it, I had to do something.’

‘Well you did that – and now I guess you’re sorry?’

Annie pulled a face. ‘It’s too late for that. Mum won’t listen. I can’t get in touch with Ruthie, she’s buried down in the country somewhere so I don’t know what’s happening with her.’

‘You’re in a mess.’

‘You can say that again.’

‘Your mother threw you out, that’s the story? No, don’t move that arm.’

Annie nodded and got the arm back into position. ‘So I went to Celia’s. I had nowhere else. Lost my job as well.’

Kieron paused. ‘The Carters have influence.’

‘You’d know all about that, being a Delaney.’

‘Off limits. So that’s why you agreed to sit for me? You needed the cash?’

‘Why else?’

‘I was thinking you loved my Irish blarney.’

Annie laughed. ‘You’ve got plenty of that.’

‘Although Orla did warn me against you.’

‘What for?’

‘She thought you were trouble. Didn’t like your connections.’

‘I don’t bloody have any. They’ve all buggered off.’

‘Ah, you poor thing. Would you consider taking your clothes off next time you sit for me?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Oh, go on.’

Annie’s eyes opened wide at his audacity. She had to laugh. ‘Are you taking the piss or what?’

‘The pay’s better.’

‘I don’t care.’ Annie paused. ‘How much better?’

‘Double.’

‘Never.’

‘It’s true, I’m telling you. So will you?’

‘No.’ But she was smiling. Kieron was easy to talk to, she liked that about him. But she had the feeling she could have been a bowl of fruit or a landscape or any damned thing, he was looking at her as an object, not as a woman. Which she felt sort of relieved about, and annoyed about at the same time. Granted, he was trying to get her clothes off, but not with any lustful intention. Which was a bit bloody insulting in a way. She was used to men slavering over her, and his approach threw her off balance.

‘I didn’t expect this,’ she said.

‘What?’ He was busy, absorbed.

‘That you’re a real artist. That you really do it.’

Kieron paused.

‘I thought you were just playing at all this,’ said Annie. ‘You’re a Delaney, for God’s sake. Delaneys don’t usually arse about painting pictures, do they? They …’ Annie hesitated.

‘Yeah, what do “they” do?’ asked Kieron.

‘They run their manor,’ said Annie. ‘People respect them.’

‘And fear them.’

‘That goes with the turf.’

Annie hesitated again. She thought of the Delaneys, and how they had bided their time, lulled the Carters into a false sense of security after Tory was knocked off, then suddenly gone for Eddie. These were dangerous people, cunning and cold.

Kieron paused. ‘Come on then, spit it out.’

‘Will they protect Celia? She’s afraid the Carters are going to get her.’

‘I told you, I don’t discuss the family.’

‘You could put in a word. If you wanted to.’

‘No, Annie.’ Kieron drew back from the drawing. ‘I told you, I don’t get involved.’

Annie looked at him. ‘Do you sell your work?’

‘What?’ Now it was Kieron’s turn to be off balance.

‘You heard me. You sell it, don’t you?’

‘Of course I sell it.’

‘In London galleries?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ah.’

‘What do you mean, “ah”?’

‘Doesn’t the fact that you’re a member of the Delaney family work in your favour when it comes to getting gallery-owners to display your stuff?’

Kieron stared at her.

‘Or am I wrong? Do those gallery-owners kiss the Delaneys’ arseholes rather than risk the consequences?’

‘You’re a cheeky little mare, ain’t ya?’ said Kieron.

Annie shrugged. ‘All I’m saying is, you’re a Delaney when it suits you.’

Kieron threw aside his nub of charcoal. ‘Go on, get out. Get out before I kick your audacious arse down those stairs.’

‘The truth hurts, doesn’t it?’

‘Out!’

Something flared in his eyes, something Annie hadn’t seen before. She frowned as she left.

He’d noticed her now, all right. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But as she hit the street she was smiling again.

When she got back to Celia’s place, she found Darren, Aretha, Ellie and Dolly sitting around the kitchen table sunk in gloom.

‘What?’ she asked, feeling high because she’d managed to get one over on a Delaney without getting herself killed in the process.

Darren looked up at her. He still had two fabulous shiners from where Eddie’s attacker had punched him in the nose. He didn’t look good at all.

‘Celia’s gone,’ he said.

Annie sat down. ‘What?’

‘She went overnight,’ said Aretha. ‘All her clothes are gone, and her suitcase, she’s scarpered.’

‘Did she say anything before she left?’ asked Annie. This didn’t seem feasible. This place would be lost without Celia.

‘She left this for you,’ said Ellie. She gave Dolly a scathing look. ‘Dolly was going to rip it up.’

‘Grass,’ spat Dolly.

‘Open the thing, we’ve been dying to know what she says,’ said Aretha.

‘I was going to steam it open,’ confessed Darren.

‘What stopped you?’ asked Annie.

‘Ellie said she’d tell.’

Annie nodded. Ellie would always tell. Dolly would always be stroppy, and Darren would always be sweetly reasonable. As for Aretha … Annie thought she wanted watching. Aretha was the expert on supplying the needs of their kinkier clients, there was a dark side to her temperament. All these things she had learned. She tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. It said:

Annie love,

I’m going away for a bit, I can’t say where. Take over here, sorry I can’t say for how long. You know the ropes, and if you get stuck Darren will help, he’s a good boy.

Love

Celia.

Annie read it twice, the breath catching in her throat, a thousand thoughts running through her head. Celia, gone. Celia who had taken her in and given her a home when the rest of the world had spat at her. It didn’t seem real somehow. And she didn’t want to even think about this place without her, it would be empty, soulless.

She passed the letter to Darren. He read it, and passed it to Aretha. She passed it to Ellie, then Dolly, who looked ready to explode.

‘I’m not taking fucking orders off you,’ she told Annie.

Annie felt bereft. She’d become so close to Celia, and her presence was going to be sorely missed. But she couldn’t blame her for putting some distance between herself and the Carters. Eddie sounded really bad, and what if the worst – God forbid – happened? Celia would be up shit creek, no doubt about it. Celia had done the wise thing. But Annie was going to miss her like a limb.

Annie took a deep, calming breath. All right, so Celia was gone and God knew for how long. But she owed her everything, and it was up to her to make sure that Celia could return to a going concern, not a washout.

‘You don’t have to take orders from me,’ said Annie.

Dolly looked at her. ‘I should bloody-well think not,’ she huffed.

‘You can fuck off out of here right now, if you want to.’

Dolly’s rosebud mouth fell open. Darren, Aretha and Ellie sat rigid with shock.

‘You what?’

Dolly stood up, knocking her chair over with a clatter.

‘Are you deaf as well as stupid?’ asked Annie, giving her a hard stare. ‘Celia’s put me in charge and I’m going to do the right thing by her. If that means losing your services, fair enough. Bugger off then. If you want to stay, you can put the kettle on and fucking-well button it, okay?’

Ellie would always squeal. Annie knew it. So she wasn’t surprised when Pat Delaney called in person a few days later. Ellie was the Delaneys’ inside source, she knew it. She handed him the usual wad, and he pocketed it thoughtfully.

‘I hear there’s been trouble,’ he said, making himself comfortable at the table.

Annie nodded coolly. As powerfully as she had taken to Kieron on first sight, his older brother Pat repulsed her. He had a big leery face and was busy looking her over, but he was a Delaney. Although she didn’t want to, she had to give him some respect. Of course the Delaneys were supposed to make sure there was no trouble, although you wouldn’t know it judging by what had happened to Eddie and Darren.

‘There has,’ she agreed, sitting down opposite so he’d take his eyes off her legs for a minute. Darren and Ellie and Dolly were upstairs; Aretha was out. I’m in charge here now, she thought, and tried to remember it.

‘A client was attacked here,’ said Annie.

‘That’s a shame,’ said Pat, obviously not meaning it.

‘Yeah, it is,’ agreed Annie. ‘He was an important one.’

‘I heard that shirt-lifter Carter got slit,’ said Pat with a grin.

‘Celia didn’t want any trouble with the Carters. Neither do I, and she left me in charge.’

‘And you are …?’

‘I’m Annie Bailey, Celia’s niece.’ Annie pushed Celia’s letter across the table to him. Her heart was thumping and her mouth was dry, but she kept up the cool front.

Pat read the note then looked up. ‘You think you can run this place?’ he asked, and his eyes said he found this funny.

‘I know I can. I’ve learned the ropes from Celia.’

‘I could put a manager in,’ said Pat.

‘Celia didn’t want that. She wanted me to take over.’

Pat eyed the girl carefully. Annie was a real beauty. And he was in a position of power here.

‘And you want to do that?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ She didn’t want to. But she owed Celia big-time. Okay, she hadn’t seen herself running a knocking shop, but if that’s what she had to do, then fuck it, she’d do it.

‘Well, I don’t know if you’ll be suitable,’ said Pat with a smile. ‘So shut the door and come and give me a nice blow job, and I’ll consider it.’

Annie’s heart nearly stopped in her chest. She’d been afraid of this. But she kept her voice steady and her gaze direct. ‘I’m not a working girl, Mr Delaney. Like my Aunt Celia I run the show, I don’t perform in it.’

They locked eyes.

‘Ellie or Dolly would be pleased to oblige. On the house, of course.’

Pat smiled and stood up. ‘No thanks, girly. I wouldn’t touch any of the scuzzy old whores in this cathouse. We’ll leave it at that for now. But if you fuck up, watch out.’

‘Understood,’ said Annie, feeling nauseous as he passed her chair and left the room. She didn’t relax until she heard the front door close behind him. Then she slumped on to the table, head in hands.