Scarlet Women (32 page)

Finally opening night at the club had arrived. The club—
her
club—was throwing open its doors at last. There were limos all up and down the street, offloading a glittering array of celebs, and the general public were out in their masses, rubbernecking to see who they could catch a glimpse of.

The press were there, flashbulbs popping.

Annie was centre stage in a long black halter-neck dress, her dark hair swept up in a chignon, diamonds twinkling at her ears and throat as they caught the light of the strobes, the music pounding out a happy beat, champagne flowing freely. The place was buzzing.
She’d done it. Annie Carter had created a place to be seen in.

‘Well, you made it,’ said Constantine at her side. His heavies were there, about six feet away. Close enough to watch; not close enough to be intrusive.
Her
heavies were there too; they were out
in force. Squat Steve and lanky Gary were to be seen everywhere in their DJs and bow ties, moving among the crowds, checking invites and making sure everyone behaved themselves. Tony was a few feet away, keeping an eye on Annie.

‘I never thought I would,’ Annie admitted to him, having to lean in close to him to make herself heard over Thunderclap Newman’s
Something In The Air.

Annie looked around, flushed with pleasure and success. The bar was heaving, the kitchen doors were swinging crazily from all the back-and-forth of the waiters and waitresses ferrying food and drinks out. The go-go dancers were gyrating wildly on their gilded platforms. The dance floor was a writhing sea of bodies.

Half of England’s victorious 1966 World Cup squad were in. She spotted Geoff Hurst and Jackie Charlton. And film stars too: Donald Sinden was in; she was
sure
that fabulous-looking man over there was Dirk Bogarde; and wasn’t that the beautiful Bond girl who had been painted gold…?

‘Yeah, that’s her. Shirley Eaton,’ said Constantine.

‘Friend of yours?’

‘Friend of a friend. Sean’s coming by later.’

‘Sean
Connery?’

He’d drafted in a truckload of famous faces and young aspiring stunners to give the place some fizz tonight.

Constantine clinked his champagne flute against hers and smiled. ‘To
Annie’s.
’

Annie’s heart did a back-flip when he smiled liked that. Yeah, there were gorgeous people here, glossy and polished and elegant, but none of the men measured up to Constantine Barolli. She saw many of the women giving him interested looks and thought:
Hands off, ladies—he’s mine.

‘Thought any more about my offer?’ he asked, his eyes holding hers.

‘Yeah. I have.’

‘And?’ He was gazing at her intently.

Slowly, she nodded. ‘Yeah, okay. I’ll marry you.’

Constantine grabbed her and twirled her around. Annie laughed and clung to him.

‘You sure?’ he said against her mouth when he settled her back on to the floor. ‘Not still hung up on Max?’

Annie shook her head. She’d loved Max and would cherish his memory forever—he was the father of her daughter. But he was gone. And now she was in love, absolutely and completely, with Constantine Barolli.

‘Yeah. Very sure,’ she said, and reached up and kissed him. Then she drew back. ‘You’re sure too?’

‘Oh yeah.’ He pulled her in closer and his answering kiss made her go limp. ‘Now relax and have fun. Enjoy the night: you’ve earned it. That’s an order.’

‘I’m not good at taking orders,’ she said against his mouth. ‘And I’m still hopping bloody mad that Redmond Delaney got away.’

She had the word out. He and that twisted bitch sister of his
had
to be found.

‘Yeah, I noticed,’ he said, and kissed her more deeply. ‘But come on. Let it go.’

Annie drew back and stared into his blue, mesmerizing eyes. ‘I love you,’ she said, stifling a pang of irritation.

How could he be so damned
casual
about it? She wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn’t. He was right, anyway. She had to enjoy this night; she’d worked hard enough to bring it about, after all.

‘Hey, Annie!’ It was Ellie, pushing through the crowds, all glammed up and carrying Layla in her party dress.

Layla looked a picture. Her dress was turquoise, all frills and flounces. She’d been trying it on for days. Her dark hair was tied up in bunches with matching ribbons. She had new shoes. Annie felt overwhelming pride and love when she looked at Layla. She’d invited Ruthie tonight, of course she had, but Ruthie had declined. Ruthie wasn’t a party person—she never had been—and Annie respected that.

‘Hey, who’s this little beauty?’ said Constantine, handing Annie his glass and sweeping Layla up
into his arms. Layla laughed excitedly; from the first minute she had set eyes on Constantine, she had decided she loved him.

Animals and kids
, thought Annie.
They know instinctively who they can trust.

‘I’m Layla,’ said the little girl, taking him literally.

‘I remember you,’ he told her.

‘I remember you too! I got new shoes, look.’

Constantine admired the shoes. ‘And a new dress too, uh?’

Layla nodded.

‘You look beautiful, honey,’ he told her. ‘You wanna dance?’

Constantine carried her on to the busy dance floor and swayed around to the beat with her, Annie and Ellie watching from the sidelines. Layla was laughing fit to bust a gut. Constantine was smiling and chatting to her.

‘He’s
gorgeous
,’ said Ellie in Annie’s ear.

Yep, he certainly is
, thought Annie. She looked at Ellie. ‘You look pretty good yourself, Ellie.’

Ellie blushed and smoothed her hands down over the long red mock-velvet dress she was wearing. The shade flattered her dark colouring to perfection. Ellie in her workaday overalls looked a mess, but this dress was the business. In this she was sumptuously curvy, and it nipped in and out in all the right places, the plunging neckline displaying her milky-white shoulders and ample
cleavage, the cunning cut displaying to perfection a surprisingly small waist.

‘Do you think they’ll let Chris out soon?’ she asked Annie anxiously.

Annie nodded. ‘They’re just going through the formalities. They’ve got the real culprits, Chris’ll be out in no time.’

‘Thank God,’ said Ellie, and waved to someone in the crowd and was off again.

Annie stood there and sipped champagne, her eyes scanning the crowds. They met up with another pair of eyes, calm dark ones,
also
scanning the crowds. She went over.

‘You came!’ she said in surprise, then shot him a teasing glance. ‘Looking for villains, DI Hunter?’

‘Yes, Mrs Carter,’ he said, still looking like the Grim Reaper with his long, handsome, sober face and immaculate suit, totally out of step with the party atmosphere in here. He was holding a glass of champagne as though it might explode on him. His eyes still skimmed over the throng, passing over Steve Taylor and Gary Tooley, over Tony, over several heads of neighbouring ‘firms’, and finally resting on Constantine. ‘Finding a few, too.’

‘Don’t you ever go off duty?’ asked Annie.

‘Don’t
you
?’ His lips twitched.

‘Hey, was that a smile? Or just wind?’

‘The manager of the Alley Cat gave me a full
confession to the murder of your friend Aretha Brown.’

Annie kept her face carefully blank. ‘Yeah? That’s good news,’ she said.

‘Isn’t it? Although when he came into the station he appeared to be in a bad way. He said he fell down a flight of stairs.’

‘That can hurt,’ said Annie.

‘Yes it can. It looked more as if he’d been beaten, but he insisted he hadn’t.’ He looked at her. ‘Nothing to say, Mrs Carter?’

‘
Should
I have?’

He sighed and gave up. ‘I’ve spoken to your friend’s aunt.’

‘Louella? How’d she take it?’

‘With shock. She was convinced Chris Brown was guilty.’

‘I nearly thought that myself, at times.’

‘We’ve released him.’

‘Now
that’s
good news,’ said Annie, happily clinking her champagne flute against his. ‘Let’s drink to it.’

He sipped the fine champagne as if it was arsenic. Annie smiled. Never thought she’d like a cop, but she’d taken to this one. She couldn’t forget the way he’d held on to her hand when she’d been stuck in that bloody car crusher, either. Here was a handsome man with staying power, a man who might look like he was sucking on
lemons, but who had
endurance.
She appreciated that. In another time, another place, she could have gone for him.

‘Help yourself to food, drink, anything,’ she said, then she hesitated, looked down at his left hand.
Still
wearing that wedding ring. ‘You talked to her? Your ex-wife? Since the divorce?’

He shook his head.

‘Maybe you should. Maybe things would be different now.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

Annie nodded slowly and smiled. ‘Well…I gotta mingle.’

And Annie was off again, shaking hands, smiling, schmoozing the celebs. Suddenly she found herself face to face with Dolly Farrell.

‘Oh!’ said Dolly.

Dolly was in flowing pink lace to complement her blonde bubble-perm. She looked terrific. But when she saw Annie standing in front of her, her eyes grew wary. ‘Hi,’ she said cautiously.

‘Hiya, Doll,’ said Annie.

‘I had the invite but I wasn’t sure I’d still be welcome. Well, after…after all that business with the Delaneys, and Mira…I wasn’t sure.’

‘Look, Doll,’ said Annie seriously, ‘you were in a corner. You couldn’t go against the Delaneys, and I understand that. Forget it. Water under the bridge. Okay?’

Dolly looked more relaxed. ‘I’ve been hearing word on the streets that the Carter boys are moving into Limehouse and Battersea. There’s been violence, but not much.’

Annie nodded. The Delaney boys were leaderless and rootless without Redmond and Orla. And she had wasted no time in grabbing the moment. She had told Steve and Gary to start the push, take over. There had been small pockets of resistance, but nothing significant. There was no way the Delaneys were ever going to run that manor again. Now it would be part of the Carter empire, a lucrative extension of their security business.

The Delaneys—finally—were yesterday’s news. But still, they’d walked away. Police block or no police block, they’d legged it. It gnawed at her that they were still alive and well, when they had caused such mayhem.

‘You’ll be paying your wedge to the Carter boys soon,’ she said.

‘Well, I for one won’t be sorry,’ said Dolly with a sigh. ‘They scared us all shitless, that family. Weird lot. But what could you do? Talk about money with menaces.’

‘Let’s go upstairs, Doll. I need to talk to you, and we can’t do it down here.’

Up in the office it was quieter. Annie sat down behind the desk and indicated that Dolly should
sit too. Dolly sat down and looked at her, puzzled. ‘Well, what’s this about?’ she asked.

Annie got straight to the point. ‘It’s about you running this place, Doll. I want to put you in here, as manager.’

Dolly’s jaw dropped.

‘And in a year or so’s time, if it runs at a good profit, you’ll be opening the other two Carter clubs for me in the same style.’

Now Dolly’s lower jaw
really
hit the floor. ‘You’re
kidding?
’

‘Do I look like I’m kidding? I’m serious, Doll.’

‘But…for f…
You
run this place.’

‘I won’t be running it, Doll,’ said Annie, smiling at Dolly’s shock. ‘I’ll be owning it, that’s all. It was something I wanted to do, something I wanted to achieve. Now it’s done and my situation’s changed. Now I need a manager, a bloody good one, and the first—and the best—person that comes to mind is you.’

‘But I’ve never done anything like this!’ protested Dolly.

‘It’s a business, Doll. You’ve been running a bloody business for years. Just scale up a bit.’

‘A
bit
?’

‘Of course if you’re not interested, I can soon find someone who is,’ sighed Annie.

‘Who the fuck said I’m not interested?’ Dolly burst out. Then her face closed down. ‘What about wages?’

Annie named the figure she’d been turning over in her mind for days.

‘Jesus,’ said Dolly.

‘You’re supposed to say that’s not enough,’ suggested Annie.

‘All right. It’s not enough.’

‘Tough shit. That’s the deal. Accommodation’s included, the flat’s furnished.’

‘But where will you…?’

‘Car too. And driver.’

Annie had a brief, enjoyable vision of Tony driving Dolly around, Dolly being a big noise in the club scene, Dolly shouting happily at the staff, running the show, throwing her weight about, greeting the punters.

Scale up
, that was all she had to do.

Dolly was staring at her, dumbstruck. ‘I can’t believe this. What about the parlour?’

‘Put in a manager, Doll. Easy-peasy.’

‘Yeah, but
who
? Who could I trust to run the place right?’

‘Ellie.’

‘Holy shit!’ said Dolly, and started to laugh.

Later she had one of the boys send Tony up to the office. Annie told him all about her plans, and Tony sat there looking like he’d lost a pound and found a penny.

‘So I’m out of a job,’ he said.

‘Have you been listening to me? You got a job. You drive Dolly instead of me, that’s all.’

‘I’m not sure I’d
want
to be driving her,’ he said.

‘Hey, it’s a job,’ said Annie.

‘Dunno.’ He folded his arms over his barrel of a chest.

‘Well, it’d be a damned shame if you didn’t take it, because
someone
is going to have to drive Dolly around. She don’t drive and she needs transport on tap, plus a minder, and that should be you.’

‘Huh,’ said Tony, still looking put out.

Annie rolled her eyes. ‘And
someone
is going to have to get their arse down to the Jaguar showroom this week and pick out a brand-new motor, because I’m not sure I can
take
any more earache off you about that fucking Rover.’

‘New, uh?’ asked Tony grudgingly.

‘Brand new. Any colour so long as it’s black.’