Lime Street Blues (39 page)

Jeannie was getting Ace ready for bed and combing the pale gold hair that had grown in magnificent abundance when he was six months old, when her mother rang.

‘Put the television on. BBC1,’ she said tersely and rang off straight away.

‘Lachlan!’ Jeannie yelled a few minutes later.

‘What’s the matter?’ Lachlan rushed in. He’d just stepped out of the shower, and was clad only in a towel.

‘It’s Kevin McDowd.’ She gestured at the television. ‘His affairs were in a terrible mess. He’s left behind a load of debts. Did he owe you any money?’

‘No, I’ve been paid completely up to date. So have Fly and the Cobb, or they would have mentioned it.’ Lachlan looked stunned. ‘I wonder what will happen to Sadie?’

‘Well, she won’t be setting up the Kevin McDowd Trust Fund, that’s for sure.’

Kevin had borrowed off a French bank to buy the flat in Paris, and was well behind with repayments. The bank had now started proceedings to claim the flat in lieu. The manor house in Ireland had been bought for cash, but it had been seriously run down and there was a long list of tradesmen still waiting for their money. The mews house in Knightsbridge had a mortgage, also in default, though it was in Sadie’s name, something of which she was unaware. Several months’ rent was owed on the Mayfair
office. Wine merchants, tailors, florists, jewellers; Kevin McDowd was indebted to them all. He’d paid off a bit here, a bit there, so no one had been particularly worried. Kevin had always been an honourable man and, even now, no one doubted they would eventually have been paid in full.

The racehorse and the plane, his most precious possessions, were the only things for which Kevin didn’t owe a penny.

‘Apparently,’ Lachlan reported, ‘Kevin had a massive life insurance policy, and the plane was insured. Sadie thinks that should wipe out at least half the debts.’

But the insurance company refused to pay. The insured, Kevin McDowd, had insisted on taking the plane up, despite advice from experts on the ground that the weather conditions made it unsafe. According to the small print, the circumstances were such they weren’t liable to compensate for any subsequent loss of life or for the loss of the plane.

The wife of the pilot, Jimmy, sued Kevin’s estate, demanding compensation for herself and her two small children.

‘I always thought we were living way beyond our means,’ Sadie wept. ‘ “Where’s all the money coming from?” I’d ask, but you know Kevin. He just brushed me off with a wink and a smile. If he was here now, I’d kill the bloody eejit, so I would.’

The simple fact was that Kevin had over-reached himself. He was still the same person everyone had spoken so highly of at his funeral – generous, kind, bighearted – but he’d been living in a dream world, spending money like water when the money wasn’t there to spend.

The Survivors soon acquired another manager, Donald Weston, a quiet, business-like man with none of Kevin’s flamboyance. Kevin had been dead for six months when the group were offered a tour of Canada and the States. Jeannie insisted that Lachlan should go.

‘I’ll be perfectly all right on my own,’ she told him. ‘It’s not fair on Fly and the Cobb to turn another tour down. Neither of them are as well off as you are.’

‘If you’re sure you don’t mind, babe.’ He was obviously quite keen on going.

Lachlan was in Montreal when a letter arrived for Jeannie from Perriman & Rowe, chartered accountants, announcing there would be a preliminary meeting of Kevin McDowd’s creditors in two weeks’ time in their office in the Strand. She had no idea she was a creditor, but apparently she was owed the grand sum of twenty-four pounds in royalties, which had arrived after Kevin’s death.

Sadie confirmed she would be attending the meeting when Jeannie rang. ‘I’d feel like a coward, staying away. This is Kevin’s mess. As his wife, I feel I should do all I can to help. I’ve already sold all me furs and jewellery and the Knightsbridge house is on the market.’

Jeannie asked her mother if she would look after Ace for the day. ‘I don’t give a damn about the twenty-four pounds, but I’d like to be there for Sadie’s sake.’

About a dozen creditors were sitting around a long table when Jeannie entered Perriman & Rowe’s conference room. With its ceiling-high glass-fronted bookcases and dark oil paintings, the room looked as if it hadn’t changed since the firm was established in the last century. Two dark-suited, accountant-like figures were seated at
the head of the table. At the far end, a drawn and red-eyed Sadie sat alone. Jeannie went and sat beside her.

‘I’m glad you’ve come, luv,’ Sadie said. ‘You’re the only person here I know, apart from our Sean.’

‘Sean’s here?’

‘Yes, he’s just gone to find me a cup of tea from somewhere. He’s flown all the way from America specially. He’s a good lad, our Sean, always looked after his mam. Rita too. Her and Mavis have been staying with me on and off since Kevin died.’ Sadie sniffed and, for a moment, Jeannie saw the pathetic wreck of a woman who used to live at the other end of Disraeli Terrace. But then Sadie put her hand over the younger woman’s. ‘I’m still holding meself together, Jeannie,’ she said. ‘I’m determined Jimmy’s wife won’t be left destitute, like I was, with two little kids to support. Once everything’s been sorted, Sean’s going to make sure no one’s left out of pocket, even though it’s not his job to clear up after his father.’

Sean appeared with a tray containing a small teapot, a jug of milk, a bowl of sugar, and a fancy mug. ‘The woman in reception was dead helpful,’ he said. ‘She apologised for not having a saucer.’

Jeannie wasn’t surprised the woman had been helpful. She was unlikely to have been asked for tea before by a world famous singer who sent shivers of desire up most female spines. She felt a little shiver herself at the sight of the tall, dour figure with the dark, smoky eyes and almost animal sex appeal. She gave him the briefest of smiles, then settled down to ignore him as the proceedings began.

They didn’t last long. One of the accountants explained that the situation was dire. When everything had been sold that could be sold, it was possible creditors
would receive as little as fivepence in the pound. The exact figure would be confirmed at another meeting in six months’ time. There was a horrified gasp from around the table. Then Sean announced there would be no need for another meeting. He intended to clear every one of his father’s debts. At that point Sadie burst into tears.

Afterwards, they went to the Savoy for a drink. ‘Thank you, son. Oh, but I still felt dead ashamed,’ Sadie wept. ‘We shouldn’t have come to a posh place like this. Under the circumstances, it seems awful ostentatious.’

Sean ordered her not to be so daft. ‘You can’t live like a nun for the rest of your life just because of what me dad did. Anyroad, it’s me that’s paying. What do you want to drink?’ he asked when a waiter arrived to take their order.

‘Gin and It, a double.’

Jeannie said she’d like a glass of white white. ‘Medium, please.’ She wasn’t sure why she was still there, having promised her mother she’d catch the train back to Liverpool the minute the meeting was over. Sadie probably appreciated having another woman’s company at such an upsetting time, or so Jeannie told herself. The presence of Sean McDowd had nothing to do with delaying her journey home. ‘How long are you staying?’ she asked him.

‘A couple of days. How about you?’ He looked at her through half-closed eyes, his face expressionless.

‘I’m not sure,’ Jeannie answered. ‘A day or two. There’s a few things I have to do in London.’

‘You can stay with us, luv,’ Sadie said instantly. ‘The house is on the market, but it hasn’t been sold yet.’

‘Actually, I’m booked in here, at the Savoy. Excuse
me a minute.’ She got up suddenly, hurried to the ladies, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were pools of vivid blue and her face was white. Black always made her look pale and she was wearing the suit she’d bought for Kevin’s funeral; grosgrain with a pleated satin collar and cuffs, very tight-fitting, and showing off her slim figure to perfection. She renewed her coral lipstick, dabbed blusher on her cheeks, and brushed her hair away from her face until it was smooth, then took a step back and stared at herself again. It wasn’t often Jeannie thought about her looks other than to thank the Lord she hadn’t been born plain. Today, though, she was glad that she was beautiful.

She left the ladies and swiftly made her way to reception, where she booked a room for that night. ‘No, make it two nights,’ she said to the clerk behind the desk.

‘Double or single, madam?’

‘Er, double. I don’t want the key just yet. I have to collect my luggage.’ She’d buy a toothbrush, nightdress, and a change of underclothes later.

‘You’re in room twenty-five on the second floor, madam.’

‘Thank you.’

Her mother was perfectly happy to continue looking after Ace when Jeannie phoned to explain a couple of things had come up in London.

‘You know I love having him, and the girls are off for half-term and they adore their little nephew.’

All done! Jeannie took a deep breath. Her legs were trembling when she returned to the bar. Sean was autographing the bar tariff for a flushed, star-struck young woman whose gratitude was almost embarrassing to behold.

‘Thank you,’ she stuttered. ‘Oh, thank you. I’ll keep it for always.’

‘It’s a pleasure.’ Sean’s rare smile transformed his face. Jeannie wasn’t surprised that the young woman looked ready to faint when in receipt of its full power.

Sadie had drunk a second gin and It while she’d been away and asked for a third. Her voice was slurred.

‘One more, Mam, then I’m taking you home. I think you need to lie down for a while.’

‘All right, son,’ Sadie said obediently. ‘Will we be seeing you again before you go home, Jeannie? Since this business with Kevin, I’ve only got me old friends left. The new ones don’t want to know me any more.’

‘Perhaps we could have lunch tomorrow, but if you need me for anything in the meantime, give me a call.’ Jeannie looked directly at Sean. ‘I’m in room twenty-five.’

It was a minute past midnight when he came, knocking softly on the door. Her heart did a somersault when she went to answer it in a modest white nightdress, only slightly sheer. She’d contemplated buying something black and glamorous, but it might look too obvious and he might guess that she was deliberately trying to seduce him.

I can’t do this! she thought when she opened the door to the thin, sinister figure in a long black mackintosh with the collar turned up. She laughed shakily. ‘You look like a foreign spy.’

He came into the room, took off the mack, and flung it on to a chair. His eyes were burning into hers. He didn’t speak, and she realised the great Sean McDowd was stuck for words.

‘Come here,’ she whispered, throwing caution to the
wind. She reached for his hand and pulled him over to the bed.

When she woke, it was broad daylight and Sean was leaning on his elbow, staring moodily down at her. She blinked herself properly awake and smiled. ‘Good morning.’

He didn’t smile back. ‘Why are you doing this, Jeannie?’

‘Why?’ She stroked his neck, which was as taut as a rope. ‘Do I have to have a reason?’

‘There’s a reason for everything.’

‘I’m sorry, Sean, but I don’t know what it is.’ She pressed her breasts against him, feeling sensuous and wanton. ‘What I do know,’ she said softly, ‘is that I badly want you to do it again.’

It was midday when he left and they arranged to meet again that night and have dinner in her room. It was too risky for them to be seen dining together in public. He’d only been gone a minute when Sadie rang to say she hoped Jeannie wouldn’t mind if she cancelled the lunch date, but people were coming to view the house. Jeannie didn’t mind, having forgotten all about it.

The afternoon was spent in a flurry of guilt and confusion. She was using Sean, but did she really have to enjoy it quite so much? Back in Ailsham, she’d never been one of the girls who’d fallen under his spell, but now she felt in thrall to his urgent, passionate love-making. She didn’t love him. Her heart would only ever belong to Lachlan, but Sean awakened a dark side of her she’d never known existed. He made her more aware of how precious her body was. The touch of his hand, anywhere, could send her into a quiver of delight and anticipation.

She had a shower, languorously soaping herself, remembering the way Sean had touched this particular spot, and that, and how his lips had caressed the most intimate parts of her.

It was late, and the shops were almost closing, when she caught a taxi to Harrods and bought a dress. It was scarlet, of the very softest silk, with a low neck and shoe string straps. It revealed far more of her bosom than she was used to showing. The flared skirt contained yards and yards of material that rippled to and fro in tiny waves when she moved and felt as light as feathers against her legs.

Six o’clock, and the table in her room was set for two. She’d order the meal when Sean arrived. Champagne waited in a bucket of ice. Jeannie turned off the main light in favour of a cream-shaded lamp, then draped herself in the red dress seductively in an armchair. The door was unlatched and all she had to do was shout, ‘Come in,’ when he knocked.

Her stomach was churning pleasantly with anticipation, when it dawned on her that the room resembled a harlot’s parlour and she looked nothing less than a tart. She jumped to her feet, turned off the lamp, put on the light, changed into the black suit, and was pretending to read the evening paper when Sean came.

They looked at each other across the room, neither speaking. Jeannie got to her feet and the paper fell to the floor. Sean closed his eyes briefly and gave a deep sigh, like a man facing water after a long thirst. He walked across the room and took her in his arms.

‘I’ve thought of nothing else but you all day,’ he said in a muffled voice.

It was very late by the time they ordered dinner. While they waited for the food to arrive, Sean opened
the champagne. He clicked his glass against Jeannie’s. ‘To us,’ he said with a sweet smile.

‘To us.’ For some reason, she wanted to cry. All she’d wanted was another baby for Lachlan. She hadn’t dreamt things would get quite so out of hand.