Jessie Keane

Black Widow


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a shit.

      ‘Gordon Bennett, if it ain’t Annie Bailey!’ said Darren, getting to his feet and coming round to give her a hug of welcome. Christ, he looked as thin as a ghost!

      ‘Carter,’ said Annie automatically.

      ‘Gawd yes. I forgot you were playing with the big boys now.’ Darren rolled his eyes and kissed her cheek. Camp as a row of pink tents, that was Darren, and she’d always loved his quirky ways.

      Annie pulled back and looked at him. He was more than slim—she felt his ribs when she hugged him. And he looked strained.

      ‘Hello Annie,’ said Ellie, coming forward for a hug. Annie gave a faint smile, suppressing her amazement at seeing Ellie back here. Dolly had once kicked Ellie out for her backstabbing habits, but here she was again, feet firmly under the table.

      Annie hugged her, trying not to think that Darren and Ellie looked like Jack Sprat and his wife, one skinny, one fat, like a comedy double act.

      ‘You’re both looking good,’ she lied.

      She pulled out a spare chair and sat down. She saw a look pass between Darren and Dolly, and Ellie bit her lip as if stifling something.

      ‘Have some toast,’ said Dolly, pushing a plate towards her. She poured tea from the pot into a spare mug, and added milk. ‘You look like you need a feed-up.’

      Annie kept shtoom. If it had been just Darren and Dolly there, she might have spoken now about Layla and Max, but Ellie was sitting there with her ears flapping so it wasn’t a good idea. Ellie had always been totally in the pocket of the Delaneys, and this was their manor. There had never been any love lost between the Delaneys and the Carters. And now she was a Carter—maybe the only one left.

       Max.

       Layla.

      Her guts clenched with pain.

      Annie stifled her grief and fear and thought instead about the Delaneys. Redmond Delaney and his sister Orla had once been good to her. But she was convinced that all that came to an end the minute Max Carter put a wedding ring on her finger. So in front of Ellie she would keep it quiet. She looked down at her wedding ring now and felt the pain rising up again, nearly choking her.

      Max’s ring with its bright gold and its solid slab of lapis lazuli was still there on her thumb. It was loose. She’d have to be careful not to lose it. Better to put it on the gold chain Max had given her, along with the gold heart inscribed Love you forever, the one she always wore, the one she was wearing around her neck right now.

      She picked up a bit of soggy toast and gnawed at it. She had to eat. Couldn’t face the idea of food, but she had to eat. Had to stay strong. She was no use to Layla in a weakened state. She sipped her tea and forced down the toast, and Dolly nodded her approval.

      ‘I look like shit in that dress,’ said Dolly. ‘But on you, it’s good. I only keep it for funerals.’

      Annie’s eyes locked with Dolly’s as they both remembered when Annie had last seen Dolly wearing the dress. Connie’s funeral. Annie’s mum, dead of alcohol poisoning, being laid to rest.

      ‘Jesus,’ said Dolly, chastened. ‘Sorry, Annie. Me and me big gob.’

      ‘It’s okay,’ said Annie. ‘Where’s Aretha?’

      Aretha had been a star turn in Dolly’s whorehouse. A tall black girl with a damaged past, she had specialized in S & M, punishment chairs, whippings, tying naughty boys up and giving them the whacking they desired.

      ‘She left about a year back, maybe two—didn’t I say?’ said Dolly. She glanced at Ellie, who turned her full concentration on her breakfast. ‘Married Chris.’

      ‘Chris the bouncer?’ Annie’s jaw dropped. It was a match that stretched the imagination to its limits, big bald Chris and tall man-eater Aretha.

      But then Annie remembered Chris’s gentle ways with the ladies, and thought that maybe, after all her trials and tribulations, Aretha had finally found a man who deserved more than to be punished.

      She glanced across the table at Ellie. Ellie had had a crush on Chris, she knew. And even now it looked as if the mention of him hooking up with Aretha was causing her pain.

      ‘He’s got a job in security now, he’s a night guard at Heathrow,’ Dolly went on. ‘They got a place together, and Aretha still turns a few tricks from home to bring in the dosh.’

      Annie nodded. Of course, things moved on. It was a weird feeling to come back here, with everything feeling somehow the same but forever different. Sitting here felt unreal, like a dream. Or maybe a fucking nightmare. People had met, fallen in love, married…moved on. Changed. Her life had changed, too. For the worse. Her husband. Her daughter. Her life. All changed. All gone. The pain gripped her again and she put the toast down, afraid that she was going to throw up right here, right now.

      ‘Hey—that’s my chair,’ said a voice behind her.

       8

      Annie looked up. And up. The woman standing there glaring down at her was over six feet tall and looked like every punter’s idea of a dream dominatrix. She had white-blonde hair cut close to her head and weirdly pale, penetrating blue eyes. She had huge tits. She was dressed in a white PVC minidress with cutouts on either side of the waist and a buckle in the centre, teamed with white, thigh-high boots.

      She didn’t look friendly.

      Dolly said quickly: ‘Una, this is Annie. Annie—Una.’

      ‘Hi, Una,’ said Annie.

      ‘I said that’s my chair,’ said Una.

      Annie looked at her. Then she looked curiously at Dolly, who was suddenly faffing around the kitchen fetching another mug, clucking around the place like the Queen of Sheba had put in an appearance. Annie looked at Darren, who looked away. She looked at Ellie, who was watching as if something interesting was about to kick off.

      She looked again at Una.

      ‘There’s another chair right here,’ said Annie, indicating an empty one to her left.

      Dolly dropped the tea caddy; it hit the table with a clatter.

      ‘Tea, Una? Or coffee?’ she prattled.

      ‘Then you fucking well sit in it,’ said Una to Annie, ignoring Dolly.

      Annie looked at her. It was a long, appraising look. ‘Sure,’ she said, and moved along to the next seat.

      Darren and Ellie exchanged a glance.

      Una sat smugly down in the seat Annie had just vacated, sneering sideways at her as Dolly took her breakfast order.

      Annie sipped her tea while Dolly fussed around Una.

      Fuck it, thought Darren, that’s not the Annie Carter I know. He caught Ellie’s eye. She’s lost it, said Ellie’s look. Bloody hell. Who’d have thought?

      When breakfast was over, Dolly went off upstairs and Annie caught up with her in the bedroom.

      ‘Doll, can you phone my cousin Kath, tell her I need to see Jimmy Bond?’

      ‘Sure I can.’

      ‘But don’t phone from here. Go to the phone box, okay?’

      Dolly looked at her. ‘Our phone was making a funny noise this morning.’

      ‘What sort of noise?’ Annie froze. ‘A sort of jingling noise, do you mean?’

      ‘Yeah. That’s it.’

      ‘Doll, I think there could be a tap on your phone line. I think these people who’ve taken