kitchen.
This time Jimmy was breathing fire. She’d rattled his cage good and proper, and Annie was perversely glad to see him riled. At least he was engaging with her now, not being snide and laughing her off as a ‘bit of skirt’.
‘What the fuck have you been up to?’ he demanded when they were alone in the kitchen.
‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Annie icily.
‘You heard me.’ Jimmy leaned his gloved hands on the table and loomed over her as she sat there, all innocence. ‘You’ve closed up the clubs. You’ve had the fucking locks changed. You’ve fired the staff. You crazy?’
‘Nope.’ Annie stood up and leaned her fists on the table, too. They were glaring nose to nose. ‘And watch your mouth, Jimmy. I told you. I’m taking over.’
‘Yeah, sure you are. You know about running clubs, do you?’
‘I’ve run businesses.’
‘You’ve run a high-class whorehouse, and you nearly did time for that, which wasn’t very clever, was it?’
Annie bit back an angry reply. She had to get him onside. Somehow.
‘Who was in overall charge of the clubs? Who collected the takings from the managers?’ she asked.
‘I did.’
‘Then you know how bad they’ve got.’
‘I know they’re making good money,’ he retorted.
‘How good?’
‘Better than they were as nightclubs.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘The books don’t lie.’
‘I want to see them. Who keeps them?’
‘I do. You got a problem with that?’
Convenient , thought Annie.
Jimmy took a breath. ‘Those acts Max used to hire, they cost a fortune. Strippers are cheap.’
‘Jonjo had no right to make these changes without consulting Max.’
‘Max must have known.’
‘Do you really believe that Max would approve a low-tone operation like that?’
‘Who knows what the fuck Max would do? He took off for the sun and left Jonjo in charge of the manor. What did he care?’
Annie heard the resentment in his voice. She looked at him and he dropped his eyes first. ‘I want those books here this afternoon,’ she said. ‘And Jimmy—don’t come in here again with half a fucking army, for God’s sake. I’m here on sufferance. Redmond Delaney’ll only take so much.’
Max had trusted Jimmy, so she had to. Simple logic. She hoped her logic was sound this time. Whatever, she wanted to see those books.
‘And do you know the combination on the safe at the Palermo?’ she asked him.
There was just the one safe, she had discovered. Nothing at the Blue Parrot and the Shalimar except small cash boxes with bugger all inside.
Jimmy gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Jonjo trusted me with a lot of things, but not with that,’ he said.
Fuck it , thought Annie.
‘We’ll need the locksmith,’ she said.
16
Annie awoke with Layla’s little body snuggling in against hers. She could feel Layla’s silky-soft hair and buried her nose in the back of Layla’s neck, where the baby-smell of her was strongest—talc and sweetness. She turned, smiling to herself, and came up against Max’s skin—hard, hot, reassuring.
‘Annie?’
A female voice.
Max was gone. And that wasn’t Inez talking. This voice was pure East End of London. A bit roughened by fags and booze and hard times, but familiar.
Annie opened her eyes and this time came properly awake. Dim light in Dolly’s bedroom. Dolly there, smiling down at her like a fond mother, putting a mug of tea on the bedside table. Then it came back to her again, all of it. The pain; the anguish. But instead of howling and screaming with the agony of loss that she was feeling, she sat up. Dolly pulled back the curtains to let in the cold grey English light. The Majorcan villa was a world away.
And— oh fuck —it was Friday.
She’d slept very late. What was it with her, all this sleeping? Escaping from reality , Annie thought. Funny how she always woke up feeling exhausted, though. All these dreams. Max, falling…her reaching for him, but it was too late, far too late. Layla
This time Jimmy was breathing fire. She’d rattled his cage good and proper, and Annie was perversely glad to see him riled. At least he was engaging with her now, not being snide and laughing her off as a ‘bit of skirt’.
‘What the fuck have you been up to?’ he demanded when they were alone in the kitchen.
‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Annie icily.
‘You heard me.’ Jimmy leaned his gloved hands on the table and loomed over her as she sat there, all innocence. ‘You’ve closed up the clubs. You’ve had the fucking locks changed. You’ve fired the staff. You crazy?’
‘Nope.’ Annie stood up and leaned her fists on the table, too. They were glaring nose to nose. ‘And watch your mouth, Jimmy. I told you. I’m taking over.’
‘Yeah, sure you are. You know about running clubs, do you?’
‘I’ve run businesses.’
‘You’ve run a high-class whorehouse, and you nearly did time for that, which wasn’t very clever, was it?’
Annie bit back an angry reply. She had to get him onside. Somehow.
‘Who was in overall charge of the clubs? Who collected the takings from the managers?’ she asked.
‘I did.’
‘Then you know how bad they’ve got.’
‘I know they’re making good money,’ he retorted.
‘How good?’
‘Better than they were as nightclubs.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘The books don’t lie.’
‘I want to see them. Who keeps them?’
‘I do. You got a problem with that?’
Convenient , thought Annie.
Jimmy took a breath. ‘Those acts Max used to hire, they cost a fortune. Strippers are cheap.’
‘Jonjo had no right to make these changes without consulting Max.’
‘Max must have known.’
‘Do you really believe that Max would approve a low-tone operation like that?’
‘Who knows what the fuck Max would do? He took off for the sun and left Jonjo in charge of the manor. What did he care?’
Annie heard the resentment in his voice. She looked at him and he dropped his eyes first. ‘I want those books here this afternoon,’ she said. ‘And Jimmy—don’t come in here again with half a fucking army, for God’s sake. I’m here on sufferance. Redmond Delaney’ll only take so much.’
Max had trusted Jimmy, so she had to. Simple logic. She hoped her logic was sound this time. Whatever, she wanted to see those books.
‘And do you know the combination on the safe at the Palermo?’ she asked him.
There was just the one safe, she had discovered. Nothing at the Blue Parrot and the Shalimar except small cash boxes with bugger all inside.
Jimmy gave her an old-fashioned look. ‘Jonjo trusted me with a lot of things, but not with that,’ he said.
Fuck it , thought Annie.
‘We’ll need the locksmith,’ she said.
16
Annie awoke with Layla’s little body snuggling in against hers. She could feel Layla’s silky-soft hair and buried her nose in the back of Layla’s neck, where the baby-smell of her was strongest—talc and sweetness. She turned, smiling to herself, and came up against Max’s skin—hard, hot, reassuring.
‘Annie?’
A female voice.
Max was gone. And that wasn’t Inez talking. This voice was pure East End of London. A bit roughened by fags and booze and hard times, but familiar.
Annie opened her eyes and this time came properly awake. Dim light in Dolly’s bedroom. Dolly there, smiling down at her like a fond mother, putting a mug of tea on the bedside table. Then it came back to her again, all of it. The pain; the anguish. But instead of howling and screaming with the agony of loss that she was feeling, she sat up. Dolly pulled back the curtains to let in the cold grey English light. The Majorcan villa was a world away.
And— oh fuck —it was Friday.
She’d slept very late. What was it with her, all this sleeping? Escaping from reality , Annie thought. Funny how she always woke up feeling exhausted, though. All these dreams. Max, falling…her reaching for him, but it was too late, far too late. Layla
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