Читать книгу The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4 - Jessie Keane - Страница 51

It was dark by the time Annie got back to Limehouse, and the instant she walked in she knew there was trouble. Dolly was hovering in the front-room doorway looking fraught. Chris was missing. Aretha was leaning against the stairwell with a taut expression on her face. Darren, standing beside her, was chewing a hangnail, his eyes darting to and fro. Ellie was sitting halfway up the stairs.

The place was quiet. No music, no clink of glasses. No clients. Except Pat Delaney, Annie noted through the open doorway, sitting in the front room alone and clearly drunk. He raised his glass to her.

‘Trouble?’ she asked Dolly.

‘Not yet.’

‘What, has he been on the uppers again?’

‘Yeah. Bold as brass. He’s been popping Dexedrine tablets like Smarties.’

‘Where’s Chris?’

‘Somewhere well away from here,’ said Dolly unhappily. ‘He’s no fool. He don’t want to get into a fight with Pat. One of the clients nearly floored the bastard, but I stepped in.’

‘Given him plenty to drink?’

‘Yeah. He must have a lead-lined belly to take all that whisky and still be conscious.’

They looked gloomily in at Pat, who was still swigging it back. He raised his glass to them again. Both Annie and Dolly pasted smiles on their faces, which dropped the instant they turned away.

‘He’s a horrible, fat, Irish turd,’ said Darren with a shudder.

‘Just keep pouring the drink down him,’ advised Annie. ‘I’m off upstairs to clean up, okay?’

They nodded. Annie stepped past Ellie and at last reached the sanctuary of her room. She felt drained. Seeing Ruthie again had done nothing for her self-esteem. Too much had happened, too much time had gone by for her to even begin to set things straight again. She had to just keep away from Max. That was a start. And she had to keep trying with Ruthie. No matter how many knock-backs she got, she just had to keep slogging away; whether she would admit it or not, Ruthie needed her. And Annie still loved her. She was her blood, her kin. She meant the world to her.

Nice to be Catholic like the Delaneys, thought Annie. Nice to go to a priest and be absolved from sin. To confess, do penance, to have the whole thing over and done. Protestants – even lapsed ones like her and her family – didn’t have that luxury.

She kicked off her shoes with a sigh and unzipped her dress, then froze. There were shouts and heavy footfalls on the stairs. She hardly had time to turn before the door banged wide open. The picture behind the door fell from the wall and the glass shattered. Pat Delaney was there, a bull-like presence in the doorway, swaying and leering.

‘So here we are, Annie Bailey!’ he said jovially, although his eyes glittered with malice. ‘Not very polite, is it, to come in and not say a proper hello to a Delaney boy.’

Annie held her dress together and looked at him. ‘Hello, Mr Delaney,’ she said. ‘Now please leave my room.’

‘Eeewww! Hoity-toity, aren’t we, Annie Bailey?’ Pat mocked. ‘Not so stuck up around the Carter boys now, are you?’

Annie saw Dolly, Darren and Aretha pile up into the doorway, their faces anxious. Ellie appeared too, half-hiding behind Darren.

‘I asked you to leave, Mr Delaney,’ said Annie. Her heart was beating out a sickening tattoo. ‘Let’s all go downstairs and have a drink, yes?’

‘No,’ said Pat, lurching forward. Annie stepped sharply back. Fuck Chris, clearing off like that – looking after number one, the selfish bastard.

Dolly stepped up behind Pat. ‘I think Annie’s right,’ she said firmly. ‘We’ll all go downstairs together and have some fun, how about it, Mr Delaney?’

She placed a hand on Pat’s arm. Pat shook it off, spun around and slapped her hard across the face. She flew backward, knocking into Darren, who caught her with a shout of dismay and put her back on her feet. Dolly touched a shaking hand to her mouth and it came away bloody.

‘Get away from me, you filthy tart,’ said Pat. ‘I’m not interested in your scuzzy arse, it’s this one I want to have a go at. Max Carter’s own personal whore. And good at it too, I’m told.’

‘Hey, you don’t come in here treatin’ people like that,’ said Aretha as she cradled Dolly.

Pat put his face up close to hers. ‘You want to do something about it, girl? You tired of having limbs or something? You want to end up like the other one, without anything to scratch your black arse with?’

Annie blinked. Surely he wasn’t talking about Celia? But there wasn’t time for thinking. He was coming at her again, ignoring the others crowding into the doorway. Dolly winced and spat out a tooth.

‘Come here to Daddy, darlin’,’ he oozed. ‘Let’s see what makes you so special.’

‘Get out,’ said Annie, backing away. She’d had enough.

‘You won’t be saying that when I’m in,’ laughed Pat.

To her horror he started fiddling with his fly. He lunged at her, grabbing the front of her dress and pulling hard. It came away, ripping loudly in the stunned silence. Annie staggered and fell to her knees, then Pat was clawing at her, bruising her arms, snatching at her breasts. Then Darren jumped on to his back, and Pat reeled sideways under the weight.

‘Go on, Darren,’ yelled Aretha.

Pat fell against the wall, dislodging more pictures. Annie was aware that she was kneeling in debris, blood on the floor, she’d cut her knee. She felt deathly cold and her head was humming. She was afraid she might faint. Christ knew what would happen then.

But Darren was out of his depth. Pat rammed back against the wall, trapping him with his greater weight against the solid surface. Darren screamed and fell away whilst Pat turned on him as he lay on the floor, a foot raised ready to kick. Suddenly Aretha piled in and caught Pat a double-fisted blow on the chin.

He staggered, then straightened. His face registered dumb surprise. Then he swung at her. She dodged, and fell over Annie. Dolly came charging in then, and hit him over the head with a bit of shattered picture frame she’d plucked from the floor. He went down like a sack of shit. Then he crawled up again.

‘Oh fuck,’ gasped Dolly.

Blood was running down over his face where he had been cut by the sharp edge of the frame. They all watched in horror as he grinned around at them. Annie could remember Max telling her about men who got drunk and drugged and then into fights. You could hit them with a house brick, he said, and they’d just keep coming. They couldn’t feel a thing. They were dangerous because they could feel no pain.

Jesus, she thought. We’re in big trouble here.

There was no going back from this. They had attacked Pat Delaney. He would neither forgive nor forget it. He would make them pay in blood.

Suddenly he charged at Dolly. Darren came up again and so did Aretha. Ellie was backed up against the banister on the landing, screaming the bloody place down. Aretha jumped on him, her hands locked around his throat. Darren started hammering at his massive head with his fists. Pat was still moving. He collided with Dolly and she went down under his weight with a screech of pain. Annie hauled herself up on to the bed and staggered to her feet. She locked eyes with Ellie, who looked frantic. Then Annie grabbed a sliver of glass from the floor and plunged it into Pat Delaney’s back.

He let out a howl, more animal than human. Annie thought that she would never forget that sound. She tried to yank the shard out again. Her hands were slippery with blood, whether hers or Pat’s she didn’t know. She felt numb. Dolly scrambled out from under his bulk and incredibly he came up again, rounding on them with the glass still in him, roaring out his rage and hate.

Annie looked at him. There was murder in his vile, pig-like eyes. He was going to kill them. She knew it. First her, then the others. He lurched towards her and she scuttled back, hobbling. Her leg was wet from the knee down.

‘Bastard stinking whore!’ Pat’s arms pin-wheeled as he fought to keep his balance. He was losing blood from several places, yet he was still going. Annie rolled back across the bed to get away, and she saw Ellie dash into the room holding the cuffs from the Punishment Chair. Aretha grabbed them and got one on to Pat’s wrist before he twisted on the bed and punched her away. She fell stunned to the floor.

Dolly and Darren leapt on to him on the bed. The cuff was dangling, if they could get it fastened at least his arms would be pinned. Dolly almost had it, but he knocked her away.

Annie piled back into the fray. They were all panting and grunting with exertion, like dogs on a bear. She poured all the hatred she felt for this foul bastard into one huge roundhouse punch to the jaw. Pat’s head snapped back. Annie saw that his shirt was soaked with blood. She hit him again. At last, she got the other cuff closed. She was sobbing and could smell her own sour sweat. He had reduced her to the level of an animal, fighting for survival.

‘Rope,’ gasped Dolly. ‘Ellie, fetch it!’

Ellie was gone again. All four of them were on Pat, trying to hold him where he was. He was too strong. He was throwing them off, one by one. Darren went flying, then Aretha. Dolly was clawing grimly at Pat’s ankles while Annie sat on his chest, her hands locked around his throat. He was going puce with lack of air, but he was still struggling and cursing.

Ellie was back. Dolly grabbed the rope and started trying to get it around Pat’s ankles, but he was kicking and lunging too much. She couldn’t do it. Pat threw Annie off and got back to his feet. Annie was slumped on the floor, Dolly in a tangle with the rope. Darren and Aretha were exhausted. Ellie was clutching at the doorframe and still screaming at the top of her lungs.

We’re dead, thought Annie. This is it. We’re dead.

Pat Delaney lurched towards her. He no longer looked even human. Blood was pouring down over his head, more blood oozed from his chest. He was making gurgling sounds and was cuffed but even so it was no good. It wasn’t enough. Annie looked up at him, he seemed to fill her entire world. She waited for death. The others were finished. Done for. No fight left. Pat came closer and leaned down towards her. She shrank back against the side of the bed, nowhere left to go, nothing left to do.

Then there was a movement behind him and a screaming Ellie jumped on to his back. Annie saw the kitchen knife in her small hand, saw it come arcing round. It opened up Pat’s throat from ear to ear. Blood sprayed, soaking Annie, sluicing over the bed.

Pat collapsed, taking Ellie with him. The hot metallic stench of blood filled the room. Annie felt herself starting to gag on the smell. He rolled. Ellie jumped aside, throwing the knife down with a cry of disgust. Pat lay on his back, gurgling. Then more blood came out of his mouth and his eyes went blank; they stared up at the ceiling and saw nothing.

There was a sudden, shocking silence.

They had killed Pat Delaney.

And now the Delaneys would kill them.

Annie’s eyes caught Dolly’s. She saw the panic she felt reflected there. Dolly knew the score. You didn’t fuck with a member of the family firm you paid your dues to and then walk away from it. Pat might not have finished them, but his family would.

For a long while nobody moved. They were too exhausted from the fight, too fearful of what was to come. Ellie was sobbing gently. She crawled away from Pat’s body, and one of the cuffed hands twitched. Ellie started to shriek. Dolly scrabbled over to her, grabbed her and held on tight.

‘It’s all right, he’s dead,’ she said, her voice muffled by her swelling mouth. ‘It’s just a twitch, just the life leaving the body, he’s not going to hurt anyone any more.’

Ellie’s shrieks softened to tears.

Annie looked over at Aretha. She was drenched with sweat, but she looked okay. Darren had pulled himself up into a chair and was sitting with his head in his hands. Annie’s eyes drifted on and met Dolly’s again.

‘We’re finished,’ said Dolly.

Annie didn’t say a word.

‘We’ll have to get out of here,’ said Annie.

Dolly looked around at the wrecked room in growing panic. Her face was a picture of fear and sickness. This place had become her castle, her stronghold against the outside world. To leave it would be unbearable. She shook her head.

‘I’m not leaving here,’ she said.

‘We have to, Doll,’ said Annie. ‘The Delaneys are going to want our blood for this.’

‘I’m not leaving,’ repeated Dolly.

‘Dolly.’ Annie’s voice was desperate now. ‘We have no choice.’

‘Yes we do. We could get rid of the body.’

Annie snapped at this. ‘For fuck’s sake, Dolly, see sense. We couldn’t even lift him. He’s too bloody big for us to move. You know it, I know it.’

Dolly moved her eyes to the Irishman lying at her feet.

‘Jesus, it stinks in here,’ moaned Aretha.

She stood up and tottered off to the bathroom. They heard her retching. Annie had thought Aretha was tough, but this scene of carnage was too much even for her.

‘What are we going to do?’ moaned Darren. ‘Chris could come back at any minute. He won’t stand for this. He’ll tell Redmond Delaney. We’ll be fucked.’

‘Ellie,’ said Annie.

Ellie turned a tearstained face to her.

‘You’re going to have to keep Chris busy. Get yourself cleaned up. Go and wait for him in the hall, and when he comes back take him into the front room. Close the door. He likes you, he’ll take the bait. Make sure he does.’

‘I can’t,’ whined Ellie. She knew what was expected of her. If Chris wanted sex, she had to provide it. But after all this, she felt too shattered to take on anyone.

‘Just do as you’re bloody-well told, will you!’ shouted Annie. ‘Get going. Hurry.’

Ellie got to her feet like a weary old woman and staggered from the room. Dolly looked at Annie.

‘There is something else we can do,’ she said. ‘We don’t have to leave.’

‘Dolly!’ Annie said in exasperation. ‘See reason. We can’t stay here. We can’t move him. We’ve got to go.’

‘No,’ said Dolly. ‘It’s obvious. I know what we should do.’ She was babbling now, the idea in her mind putting a mad light into her eyes. ‘Who would help us get rid of a Delaney? A fucking Carter! Max Carter’s still hung up on you, Annie. Everyone says so. You could phone him. He’d help you.’

‘No. I can’t.’

‘You have to. He’ll know what to do. He’ll send the boys round and they’ll take care of this mess.’

Fuck it. The more she tried to extract herself from involvement with Max, the more she seemed to get sucked in. She felt like she was struggling in quicksand, sinking deeper by the minute. She knew what Dolly said made perfect sense. Max would help her. She knew he would help her. And this was his type of territory. He would know how to deal with this; she didn’t.

Into her mind came Pat’s words when he had threatened Aretha. He’d implied that he’d been responsible for what happened to Celia. So did that mean Max hadn’t done it? But Celia had been told it was a present from Max.

Annie clutched at her aching head. What did it matter, anyway? They were all violent bastards, intent on maiming any poor fucker who got in their way. She was best off out of it, and maybe she had always known deep down that she would have to let Max go if she was ever to stand a chance of getting Ruthie back.

‘Annie!’ Dolly’s voice was harsh, cutting into her thoughts. ‘For God’s sake, we’re in deep shit here. Get down there and phone the man before Chris comes back. Max Carter will work it out. He’ll know what to do.’ She looked at Darren and at Aretha, who had come back and was standing there in the doorway, her dark skin tinted grey with nausea. ‘Darren. Aretha. Get cleaned up and dressed, the pair of you. Quickly. Nothing’s happened here. Pat went home when all the other clients left. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Behave normally. Say nothing. Got that?’

Darren and Aretha nodded tiredly.

‘I don’t want to phone him,’ said Annie. Her mind was spinning. The cuts on her hands and legs were starting to hurt. She felt sick.

‘Do it,’ said Dolly. ‘Or I’ll do it for you.’