Nasty Business

by Gillian Godden

  Tony rolled his eyes. ‘If gossip was an Olympic sport, she’d have a string of gold medals.’

  ‘It amazes me how she gets away with it. Everyone who works for you has to sign a confidentiality contract and be police checked, so how did Lydia get the job?’ Jake looked up innocently.

  ‘Your Sharon, listening to her sob stories, that’s how,’ he said, then he burst out laughing. ‘Christ, her wig’ll fall off when she sees this lot. She’ll have enough material for a month!’

  FESTIVITIES

  Christmas came and went in a blur. The accounts showed that it had been a profitable one.

  On Christmas day itself, they were all relieved to be able to forget things for a while and go to Elle’s for dinner. She had laid out the fatted calf. Everything looked splendid.

  Christmas at Elle’s gave them all a chance to unwind for the day. The clubs weren’t open until the evening, and Mathers had even suggested that the men’s club not open at all, because most of their members would be at home with their families. It was a fair point; many of the members worked in the City, and as the big offices and stock exchange were closed, there was no need for them to come into town.

  It was business as usual for the casino and the club, although there were no strippers or pole dancers on at the club – it was party night only. A lot of their customers would be a young crowd and it would be a noisy, profitable one. They had spent their dutiful few hours with their families on Christmas day and the evening was their chance to escape.

  The next main event would be New Year’s Eve. It seemed everyone felt that Christmas was for the children and New Year was for the adults. Tony personally didn’t see the difference, as he had never been in that position it didn’t mean anything to him.

  ‘What did you end up getting Mathers for Christmas, Elle?’ asked Jake. He knew Tony had wanted to get him something special but he hadn’t heard what it was.

  ‘Well, that one was a little strange, I grant you,’ said Elle. She paused, waiting for them to look up at her. ‘He hinted that he liked the look of those walnut walking sticks that are exclusively made with whatever handle you choose, to make him look more distinguished. Mathers like the silver handled one, and so that was the order I put in for him. Of course, it won’t be ready for another couple of months, yet; as I say, they are all made exclusively for each customer, but he is satisfied with that.’ Elle waited; she knew there would be a few comments about this, as she herself had questioned it.

  ‘He hasn’t got a limp; why does he need a walking stick?’ Jake was looking around at everyone, amazed.

  ‘Because, you moron, it’s a status symbol,’ said Sharon. ‘A fancy cane like that confers prestige.’ Sharon began explaining about how British gentlemen of his years often had a walking stick. You didn’t just have one because you had a limp. It was tradition. ‘Anyway, Mathers probably fought in the army and beat them all single-handed, God knows, he has everybody else under control.’

  ‘Sounds crazy to me, but if that’s what he wanted, I suppose, it’s up to him.’ Jake pushed his drumstick into his mouth, bit a chunk off and started chewing, ignoring the fact that Sharon was watching him intently.

  ‘That’s because, Jake Sinclair, you have no bloody class.’ She yanked the drumstick from his hand and put it on the plate. ‘Look at you. Will you take a breath before you take another bite? It looks like you haven’t been fed in years.’ Sharon looked apologetically at the others.

  Tony reached across and picked up Jake’s drumstick. ‘Well, I definitely haven’t got any class, either,’ he said, and he stuffed it into his mouth as far as he could, nearly gagging on it as he was laughing and trying hard not to choke.

  They were all laughing now. It felt good to be able to let their hair down after all of their hard work. Nothing had changed, as far as Elle was concerned. It had been the four of them for years and, apart from the distance, which made it harder for them to see each other as often, everything was exactly as it had always been.

  ‘Well,’ said Sharon, ‘Ashley decided on us both going on a spa weekend for his Christmas present. That will be nice, won’t it, Elle? I’m looking forward to it, but it’s not a special present for him, so I got him a designer leather wallet, as well.’

  ‘You never bought me a designer wallet, and you haven’t suggested a weekend away with me,’ Jake said, his mouth full of delicious food. ‘You’ll have a weekend away with another man, but not with your husband?’

  ‘Where could I take you that table manners like that would be acceptable?’ said Sharon.

  Tony and Elle laughed and watched as Jake and Sharon bantered their way through her weekend away with Ashley.

  ‘You have got to be the most easy-going guy I know, Jake, letting your wife go on a dirty weekend with another man.’ Tony winked at Elle. He knew he was stirring things, but he enjoyed it.

  ‘It’s not another man, Tony, it’s Ashley, and she never told me about it.’ Jake pouted, and then gave a big smile. It would sound comical to anyone that overheard them, especially people that hadn’t met Ashley. Jake was letting his wife go to a spa weekend with another man. Now, that was what the gossips loved!

  Tony picked up his wine glass and took a sip. ’Ah, yes, Jake, but you have the lovely Lydia eyeing you up. I saw you give her a kiss the other morning. I bet you didn’t tell Sharon about that.’

  Everyone was enjoying themselves and laughing, the food was plentiful, the wine flowed and the banter between them was electric.

  Tony didn’t tell any of them that he had bought Miriam a vintage Bible. The pages were like tissue paper, and it dated back to the eighteenth century. It had cost a fortune, but he knew she would appreciate it. He had bought Rosanna some earrings. She liked big, dangly ones and so he had got the biggest pair he could find and sent them to her.

  Elle never wanted anything for herself. She wanted Tony and Jake to keep their money and always said she didn’t need anything. They had argued that was the whole point of Christmas – everyone got something they didn’t want or need, didn’t they? In the end they had decided to upgrade Elle’s car and then she couldn’t complain about it being a waste of money. It was something practical.

  Tony had actually gone out himself and bought Jake’s present. It was nothing big or expensive, they had everything they needed. Jake still loved his superhero comics that he used to read when he was a boy, growing up at Elle’s. Of course, this was a private piece of information that no one else knew. After all, it wouldn’t set a good example, gangland boss reads comic books!

  Tony had bought him a whole bunch of them and wrapped them up. Jake was still his little brother, in Tony’s eyes. Possibly, considering what they had been through together, they were closer than brothers.

  Sharon had bought her own present from Tony. He had thought it funny, one year, to buy her a load of cookery books and had even enlisted her on a cookery course. She had taken it all with good grace, but from then on, she vowed to buy her own gifts and charge them to him. It was usually perfume or make-up, Tony never knew.

  None of the presents mattered; what did matter was that they all had each other, and no matter what life threw at them, they could get through it as long as they did.

  They all spread out in the lounge after dinner. Jake was still finding more space for Elle’s homemade mince pies. Elle was amazed. ‘I’m surprised you don’t weigh twenty stone,’ she said. ‘How come you are so slim, Jake, with all that eating you do?’

  Elle liked the old movies and always said that Jake reminded her of the movie star, Tony Curtis, with his black hair and boyish grin.

  ‘I have a fast metabolism, Elle, it burns up all the fat.’ Jake reached out for another mince pie.

  ‘Well, don’t ask him how he burns up his fat, randy bugger,’ said Sharon, and pointed at Tony. She had her feet up and had loosened her waistband.

  Elle shook her head and laughed. ‘Believe me, Sharon, I won’t. I’ve seen all of the magazines, full of Tony’s l
ovely ladies and what they say about him.’

  Tony was lounging on the sofa with a cocky grin on his face, listening to them all mock him about his reputation. His vanity soared when they mocked him like this and so did his ego. As much as he cringed at times when the newspapers were full of weird and wonderful stories about him, he liked it, too.

  All in all, they had a great day. A real family day, which is what it was all about – not expensive presents. This was Christmas. Spending it with people who loved and trusted each other was worth more than gold.

  All too soon, it was time to go, and Elle was already filling small Tupperware boxes with mince pies and other Christmas snacks she had baked for Jake. He was always hungry.

  On the way home, as always, Tony stopped at Trafalgar Square. The Salvation Army band was there playing their Christmas carols. Tony always stopped by and gave a donation. He would look around at the crowds of people standing watching the band and clapping. It was like he could see himself, as a child, standing in that crowd. His mind wandered and was full of memories, most of them bad. He got back in the car beside Jake and Sharon and told John, his driver, to drive on.

  Even though John pulled away, Tony still stared out of the car windows, watching the people listening to the band in the darkness of the city with only the street lights illuminating them. Jake looked at him; he was never sure, but there were times like now and in recent years he could have sworn he saw tears in Tony’s eyes, but he never said a word and neither did Sharon.

  When they got to the club, there were people queuing outside, waiting to go in. Tony’s Rolls Royce parked at the kerb, and the light from the famous neon sign bearing his name bathed the car in a pink glow.

  ‘Tonight, Jake,’ Tony said, wrapping his coat around him, ‘we wear our tuxedos. Let’s go and change.’ Tony waved to the crowds, who were shouting to him, then walked into the club, where the party was in full swing.

  Later, Tony stood at the far corner of the bar, having drinks with a few of the celebrities he knew who were doing daytime pantomime at the theatres. He was playing host and everyone was lapping it up, as usual.

  Then he left and went on to the casino to see how things were there. Graham, as always, had everything under control. The casino was busy and, yet again, people were shaking Tony’s hand and wishing him a merry Christmas.

  This was how things were for the Christmas holidays, smiling and shaking hands. Playing host and buying champagne. It was good, but it was tiring.

  Tony and Jake had been to see Angus and had given him a huge bonus for all of his hard work. He had been a good choice as leader of the South London mob, and now everything was back under control. Jake had apologized for Tony’s earlier outburst and it seemed all Angus wanted to do was forget it, too.

  Joe, who had suffered the acid attack, was now back home. He would still have more hospital appointments to come, but he was on the mend.

  Then the New Year was upon them and thankfully, for the time being, that would signal the end of the party season. Everything could return to normal.

  Roxy had been to the club once or twice and she had even come with one of her gentlemen friends. He was a much older man, flattered by her attentions. She was showing off a diamond necklace that he had bought her and hanging on to his arm and laughing at his jokes. It was obvious she was trying to make Tony jealous, but it didn’t. Instead, Tony walked over and shook hands with Roxy and her companion. He ordered them champagne and then purposely left her there sitting on a bar stool, watching him leave.

  A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY

  January carried on as cold as December had been.

  The accountant was back from Italy, which is where he had spent Christmas, and was sitting in the far corner of the office, sorting out the two sets of books he kept. There were the club accounts, all ready for the audit and tax inspection, and then there were the money laundering books, which few people ever saw.

  None of the three amigos could understand why, now everything was set up and he could send any of the accountants that worked for him to the club to keep on top of things, he insisted on taking care of things himself. He seemed to enjoy life there with the three of them. Perhaps it was because they had all worked together for years and he was accepted for himself. They even supposed he enjoyed being in the thick of things – there was always some gossip to enjoy or a problem to deal with. Probably, from his point of view, not only was it interesting, but he was on the inside looking out.

  They were all in the office, having their usual early morning meeting. Sharon was checking the diary for future parties that had to be arranged.

  ‘I’ve been thinking, Tony,’ she said. ‘Your idea about bringing in some fresh blood from the East End Striptease Agencies isn’t such a bad idea. I’ve been doing some research and Ashley has been undercover as a punter, going into these pubs, checking out the girls.’

  That made Jake and Tony laugh; they nearly choked on their coffees. ’You have had Ashley, of all people, checking out female strippers?’ said Jake. Again, they laughed.

  ‘Who better to look at a load of naked women than a man who is not interested in women? His opinion is unbiased and true.’ Sharon looked at them both; yet again, she had got the better of them. She had thought the idea was interesting when Tony had suggested it, and then she had let it ferment in her brain. She had talked it over with Ashley and he agreed but, before wasting any time on auditions, he felt it would be best if he went and had a look, first.

  ‘Well, what did Ashley, the great womanizer, tell you?’ asked Tony. He was still laughing at the thought of Ashley being surrounded by all that female flesh. It was a wonder he didn’t pass out.

  Sharon sat back in a leather wingback chair and crossed her legs. She was always immaculately dressed and usually wore a black suit, either trousers or a skirt. It looked effective, with her blonde hair, and gave her that management appearance that was required. ‘He told me,’ she said, ‘that you weren’t a bad judge, Tony. Granted, he said some were as rough as a badger’s bum, but there were a handful worth considering. I’m going to set up some auditions, possibly for a Sunday; that way, no one has to take the day off.’

  Sharon picked up her clipboard with the daily rotas on, blew a kiss to them all and left.

  ***

  Over the next month Sharon and Ashley made themselves busy ringing around local striptease agencies and asking about which would be the best girls. This usually meant anyone without any stretch marks, preferably under thirty, unless they had one of those young faces, and definitely slim – nothing over a size fourteen, maximum, and that was pushing it. Large tattoos were not acceptable; the odd rose on the ankle or backside was passable, but that was about it.

  They let the agencies put the word out; that alone would create some gossip and the word would spread. Lambrianu’s open audition day became the talk of the town.

  Some of the regular punters that went in to see the strippers asked if they could be there, and as much as Tony wanted to say ‘yes’, and charge them for this novel event, Sharon put her foot firmly down.

  ‘They’ll see them in good time, Tony. They probably know half of them and we neither want our arms twisting into taking on someone they know by doing them a favour nor do we need them poking their noses in and turning it into a free-for-all. If they know them and want to see them, then they can go to the East End and watch them.’ Sharon was defiant. ‘If they get taken on here, they’ll be seen when they have learned a choreographed routine and are dressed the way we like our girls dressed.’ She also thought some of the girls might feel a little intimidated and nervous enough, coming into a club like theirs, without some celebrity audience watching them. That would come later.

  ‘We can check them out, though, can’t we, Sharon? Surely you want a real man’s opinion?’ asked Jake. He, himself, was curious. He had never been in those pubs in years and wondered what would be turning up through those famous doors.

  ‘You two, if necessary, c
an watch from the monitors in your office. I’ll come back in when they’ve done their routines and we’ll go through it together. Is that fair?’

  Tony and Jake nodded. They felt like naughty schoolboys being scolded by the head teacher. It all sounded like a bit of fun to them, but to Sharon it was anything but. She was taking it all very seriously.

  The time and date was set and, as Sharon had suggested, it was to be a Sunday. That way, no one would lose out on their day’s work.

  Tony, Jake, the accountant and even Ashley had been sent off to the office to watch the proceedings on the monitors, there. Their faces dropped as the doors opened and, one by one, the strippers walked in.

  They were a real mixed bunch. Some had tried making themselves look younger, by plastering on even heavier make-up than usual, and some hadn’t even bothered to have the roots done on their bleached hair.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Jake, voicing everyone’s opinion, ‘it looks more like Crufts dog show. They are horrible, no wonder you’re gay.’ He grinned at the accountant and Ashley, who took it all in good fun and smiled back at him.

  Tony was now secretly pleased that Sharon had put her foot down and made this a closed audition. The last thing he wanted to be was a laughing stock, letting all his regulars see this bunch of misfits.

  ‘Are you sure, Ashley, that you said to the agencies that you wanted their best girls and not just the ones they wanted to get rid of?’ Tony watched the monitors, there were girls from all walks of life. Some hadn’t even bothered to iron the clothes they were wearing. It was a disaster.

  Tony spoke into a microphone that went straight through to the earpiece Sharon was wearing. ‘Give them all their cab fares home, and say thank you for coming.’ He had seen enough. Here they were, being given a chance, and they weren’t prepared to take it. He even saw one put her chewing gum underneath one of his tables. Again, he spoke into his microphone and told Sharon to get her and her chewing gum out of there.