Bunny looked round the room. In the corner, she saw her new and very expensive gold lamp. With a sigh of resignation, she ran across to grab it.
Running back and with only a small hint of a pause at the thought of her beautiful lamp, Bunny swung it with all her might, bringing it crashing down on the man’s head.
Immediately he dropped to his knees, falling forward with a cry of pain. ‘What the fuck!’ The man turned round, his handsome face contorted with rage and his brown eyes full of surprise as Bunny stood panting above him, holding the remaining piece of the lamp. ‘Hello Bun, how’s tricks?’
‘Don’t give me hello Bun, and don’t try to be funny! Look what you’ve made me do to me bleedin’ lamp.’
Del Williams sat on the floor and rubbed his head. He grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders as he stared up intensely with his dark brown eyes. His voice was gravelled and deep. ‘I’ll get you another one.’
Pouting, Bunny crossed her arms. ‘I don’t want another one, I wanted this one.’
‘Don’t be angry, babe; have a heart. What’s a man supposed to do?’
‘Stay out of me business, that’s what. Why do you always have to do this?’
‘Do what?’
‘This. How many times have you come in here steaming like a bleedin’ bull at a rodeo? I won’t have any punters left at this rate. You’re lucky Claudia isn’t here, she would’ve had your guts.’
Del smiled as he pictured Claudia. Over the past few years he’d had more barneys with her than he’d care to remember after the countless, and sometimes elaborate, attempts to barge his way in to see Bunny unannounced.
‘Well, I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d give it up like I asked. Like I keep asking.’
Bunny rolled her blue eyes and spoke gently. ‘I told you how it’s got to be Del. I know you …’ Before Bunny was able to finish her sentence, a loud pained groan was heard from across the room. Del and Bunny looked over, grinning and catching each other’s eyes as they realised they’d forgotten about the bewildered punter who still lay curled up on the floor.
Hurrying over and grabbing her grey silk robe to cover herself, Bunny bent down, helping the man sit up. She spoke with genuine warmth and concern. ‘Are you okay? I am so sorry Peter, and so is my friend. Actually darlin’, he’s that sorry, he wants to apologise.’ Bunny turned to Del, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Don’t you?’
Del looked down, wanting to avoid Bunny’s eyes and definitely wanting to avoid having to apologise to some toffee-nosed geezer, who no doubt had a blissfully unaware missus and children waiting at home for him. But then, who was he to talk?
Continuing to avoid Bunny’s eyes, Del thought about his wife, Edith. Spoilt, overweight and luxuriating in Marbella with a sour look on her face. He’d met her through a friend when she was barely twenty and she’d clung onto him like a leech, refusing to disappear when he tried to give her the elbow, until eventually he’d given up and she’d just become part of the furniture, placing her feet firmly under the table.
When he looked back on it, he couldn’t even say she’d really been any different. Maybe not overweight, but the spoilt, sour expressions and the demanding ungrateful personality had always been there. Even when he’d lifted up her veil on their wedding day, instead of a smiling bride it was a pursed-lipped, angry woman who was never satisfied with anything he did. His friends had often asked him why he’d married Edith and his reply was always the same. Fuck knows.
He’d lost count of how many years he’d been married, like he’d lost count of how many years it’d been since he’d been able to look into Edith’s eyes and feel anything but disgust and loathing for her. He’d tried not to. He really had. But however hard he tried, it didn’t make one bit of difference.
He’d built his drugs and money laundering empire, working his ass off to provide for Edith and make a name for himself but it’d kept him away from her, and when he had gone back home laden with presents and enthusiasm, all he’d got in return was a long face and complaints. So gradually his visits had become less and less, until they were virtually non-existent, though the presents had continued and the money. Edith had made sure of that – Fedexed to whichever luxury holiday destination she was at.
And then, one Christmas, lonely and tired, he’d decided to go home. Wanting to spend some quality time with her out in his luxury villa in Marbella. But the person who’d greeted him wasn’t his wife. She was a stranger. A greedy, selfish and ungrateful one – and in that moment he’d known he hated her.
He’d often laid in bed wondering why he hadn’t left Edith. He wanted to. God, did he just. But when it came down to it, he couldn’t.
Not leaving her was for one reason and one reason only. She could and would make his life very difficult indeed. She knew everything about him and everything about his businesses and when it boiled down to it, no matter how much money or how many houses he gave her he just couldn’t do the one thing that would’ve freed him from her. He just couldn’t trust his wife.
‘Well?’ Bunny’s voice broke into his thoughts. He stared at her incredulously. She was seriously expecting him, one of the biggest faces in the country and certainly one of the biggest faces in the Costa, to apologise to some skank? But then, he guessed, that was love for you. It melted the toughest of hard men, and from the first time he’d laid eyes on Bunny as she stood on the corner of Greek Street touting for business, he’d been hooked, lined and bleedin’ sinkered.
Winking at Bunny, Del Williams opened his mouth, not quite believing what he was doing as he began to apologise to the guy who’d been about to shag the only woman he’d ever loved in his life. The woman who completed him.
2
Teddy Davies put his head back and felt the burn of the coke up his nose and the bitter taste at the back of his mouth. It was good shit. Quiver, as he called it. Though it was almost the last of it, which meant he’d have to go back to the crap that was floating around Soho. Watered-down charlie with enough amphetamines in it to keep an elephant up all night.
He sighed as he tapped out the final line of the white powder on the top of the toilet cistern. Not a day had gone by in the past couple of years when he hadn’t taken any quiver, but then he didn’t actually need it. He only liked it.
Rolling up a twenty-pound note, Teddy Davies leant forward and hoovered up the cocaine expertly off the porcelain toilet top. He snorted hard, taking down the remnants of the quiver into his throat. As he closed his eyes, embracing the high, the cubicle door banged, making him jump. Angry at the broken sensation, Teddy snarled. ‘What the fuck’s wrong?’
‘Sorry boss, we’ve got to go.’
‘All right. All-fucking-right. I’m coming.’ Teddy shouted an irritated reply as he grabbed the empty wrap, disposing of it down the grimy stained toilet. He opened the cubicle door and studied the bald-headed man who was standing nervously waiting for him.
Teddy nodded his head in recognition, straightening his clothes and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Taking out a comb from the inside of his jacket he looked in the cracked men’s room mirror, brushing his wavy brown hair back. Detective Constable Teddy Davies was ready for duty.
Crossing over Regent Street, Teddy ignored the scream of the taxi horn. He strolled across, smiling sardonically as he cut his eye at the cabbie who was angrily waving his arms and mouthing unheard swear words behind the muddied windscreen. If it’d been dark, he would’ve been happy to wave his badge to pull the taxi driver over before giving him a slap. Still, he could always take down his carriage number and cause some aggro for him.
Whistling and loosening his tie as he mentally remembered the cabbie’s number, Teddy turned off the heaving West End street, cutting through