Nasty Business

by Gillian Godden

  He looked up to the monitor and saw Sharon coming towards the office. She threw open the door and stood there, hand on hip. ‘Let’s not forget, Tony, that this was your idea in the first place. Now, this is only a few girls, so far, and it’s going to be a long afternoon. I don’t need you in my ear all of the time.’ With that, she walked out.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jake,’ now you’ve managed to piss her off. She’s going to nag me all evening because of you.’ Jake folded his arms and continued looking up at the monitors.

  Sharon had already got her assistant to give some of the women their cab fares home. Even she could see they were not suitable. Their mannerisms were enough to put her off. Some of them were pure divas. They had the reputation of being the best girls at some dead-end pubs and they had got used to this status. It almost felt to Sharon that they thought they were doing her a favour by turning up.

  One by one, Sharon let them go through their routines. Some, she stopped halfway through, as what they did was either far too explicit or just plain boring. Some didn’t smile, others just walked up and down, without any rhythm. They seemed oblivious to the music that was playing, they were on autopilot.

  More strippers came through the doors and Sharon was slightly relieved that they looked a little younger and they had made an effort; although some were overdressed, that was better than not caring. She had her assistant show them all to the dressing rooms to change, and waited. Each one had a number; she had done this so that Tony and Jake could easily remember which ones they thought were suitable.

  At last there were a few who showed promise, and who, with a little polish, could do well. They were good-looking and their figures seemed okay. It was difficult, because some were pretty but overweight and some were slender but not pretty. One by one, Sharon got her assistant to hand out cab fares.

  What had originally been about a hundred girls was quickly whittled down to approximately thirty. Each, in turn, did their routine and gave it their best, given the fact they were nervous and in unknown territory. This was a far cry from what they were used to.

  ‘You do realise we’ve wasted the afternoon,’ said Tony. He looked bored and his neck ached from looking up at the monitors. ‘How many more are there to go?’

  ‘Only four,’ said Jake, ‘we may as well see it through. I don’t think it’s been wasted, some of it has been funny, and I also see why we’re so busy. Men come in to see pretty women, not their old dinner ladies.’ He nudged Ashley in the ribs. He could see Tony wasn’t happy and was trying to make light of it.

  ‘Well, you can watch them; I’m going to the bathroom. Enough is enough, as far as I’m concerned.’ Tony got up and walked down the corridor to the bathroom. Once in there he washed his face with cold water and stretched his neck. What would have been most men’s fantasies, watching naked women all day, had been a nightmare for him and the others.

  By the time he got back, Sharon was seeing the last of them out. He looked up at the monitors and saw the doorman locking the doors behind them.

  Sharon came into the office. ‘Well, guys, these are my choices.’ She read off some numbers, accompanied by names, and waited for a response.

  Ashley was the first to speak up. ‘Personally, I liked the Jamaican one and her friend,’ he said. ‘The last two. Although I didn’t think her friend … what was her name again?’

  ‘Francesca,’ said Sharon. She looked down at her clipboard to make sure she had the right one. ‘Candy is the Jamaican. Men like the black girls, we all know that they are popular.’

  ‘Yes, well, that Francesca, I didn’t think she was going to bother doing her audition, but she’s definitely pretty and her boobs pointed upwards, unlike some of the others.’ He shook his head. ‘Cow’s udders and fried eggs. You’d think they’d do something about it.’

  ‘Yes, to be fair,’ Jake said, ‘it seems Sharon saved the best until last, Tony. Do you want to rewind the monitors and have a look? They weren’t bad at all.’ He looked up at Sharon; he didn’t want to sound too enthusiastic.

  ‘No, don’t bother, I’ve seen more than enough.’ Tony poured them all a well-earned drink. The others continued discussing the women. Tony finished his drink and left them to it – it was Sharon’s project and he’d had enough of it.

  Sharon had given a few of them jobs, and to start with they were doing the graveyard shift. There weren’t a lot of people there, but they were paid decent wages. A lot of the regular strippers and pole dancers also got the added bonus of tips. The men would beckon the strippers towards the end of the stage and pop a twenty or a fifty pound note down their cleavage or in their stocking top. As long as it was a quick exchange and no fondling, Sharon let it go.

  Mainly, when Sharon was there, the men would leave their tips on the side of the stage, like naughty schoolboys, waiting for Sharon’s frosty glare. The tips were not only a welcome extra, but boosted the women’s confidence and made them feel popular and sexy.

  ***

  Peace and quiet reigned and the months rolled by. Each and every one of Tony’s clubs was thriving. The money was rolling in, profits were being made and life was on the up. So why was Jake so concerned about Tony?

  ‘Oh, God. No, Jake, love, please don’t tell me things are too quiet and he needs to start another war or something to create a little excitement.’ Sharon was in the office with Jake, while he was having his usual bacon sandwich and coffee. Sharon was looking through the stock sheets of champagne, and working out her next order.

  ‘No, I don’t think so, Sharon, but you know he gets a bit restless at times, and I guess this is just one of those times.’

  ‘Why?’ said Sharon. ‘He’s a man with everything. Women fall at his feet, he’s handsome …’ Sharon saw the look on Jake’s face. ‘He’s not my type, of course. What I mean is, he’s rich, successful, feared and loved; what more could anyone want?’ Sharon heaved a deep sigh; it seemed ridiculous to her.

  ‘Well, he’s still hankering after that meeting with Ralph Gold and, to be fair, this year has whizzed by and we’ve heard nothing, yet. We’ll just have to wait and see if he does have a slot in his diary, maybe that is what is on Tony’s mind.’

  ‘So, it’s up to you to convince Tony that this is the calm before the storm, and he should enjoy the break before all the new challenges he’s desperate for are put before him.’ Sharon gave Jake a kiss on the cheek and left. Jake picked up his coffee mug and took the last gulp. Maybe Sharon was right. Time to recharge the batteries. Tony hadn’t had a holiday since their trip to Italy, last year. All he had done was work.

  Even Jake and Sharon had been away; they’d needed some time together. It felt like his marriage was a little strained, these days. Apart from Sharon working at the clubs and going out with Ashley, he felt another man’s name kept popping up in conversation, and whenever Sharon did the banking, she seemed to come back smiling. He didn’t want to say anything; after the fuss he’d made about Ashley, he thought he might just be being paranoid.

  In one way, Sharon was right. Tony and Jake had reached the top of their game. They were well-established, successful and wealthy. But, while Jake was worried about Tony, he also felt a pang of his own, deep inside. What was missing in both of their lives?

  Christmas was looming again; it seemed like only yesterday the Christmas trees were being ordered for all of the clubs, and arrangements were being made for the staff bonuses and parties.

  Elle was taking on the role of dealing with the Christmas card lists and main presents, while organizing her own festive Christmas lunch for Tony, Jake and Sharon.

  Every now and again, she went to Tony’s large mansion house. The house had CCTV monitors and lots of alarmed security installed, but Elle still thought there was nothing like the personal touch, and so would call in now and again just to check things over. She knew it was a waste of time, because nothing had changed, but she still felt like a part of Tony’s support network.

  The decorators had done an excellent
job, and the designers had filled it with beautiful furniture and ornaments. It was a dream home. The only problem was that Tony didn’t live in it. She felt it was a waste, really, but from his point of view, she supposed it was a good investment.

  He had stayed there maybe five times during the year. He had created a study and filled it with old account books and personal documents, and had then bolted it and put a padlock on it. Only Elle knew that, inside that study of his, was the blue folder from the social services, containing information about his childhood. She presumed he wanted that kind of information miles away from anyone. This was the other side of Tony Lambrianu. This was Antonias, the man the newspapers and the starlets never saw.

  So, the house was decorated and furnished but all the furniture was covered in dust sheets; the place was just waiting for life to be breathed into it.

  Elle had been surprised that he hadn’t used it as a weekend getaway or a large party palace for his lady friends, but no. No woman apart from herself and Sharon ever set foot in the place. When Roxy had found out about his house, she naturally assumed she would be invited to go and see it, probably hoping and crossing her fingers that Tony had at last had come to his senses and decided he loved her. This would be their home, and this was his way of telling her, she was sure.

  The worst part of all this was Tony was showing preference to another ‘love’; his favourite at the moment seemed to be the lovely Linda. She was a well-known model, who took Tony to all the right parties to meet all of the right people. She also felt she was in the running to become Mrs Lambrianu. Linda was showcasing him to her friends; the only problem with that was now Tony had been introduced to these love-struck models, he was also sleeping with most of them!

  He knew Roxy used cocaine and he never questioned her about it. He knew a lot of the other models used similar drugs, like speed, to keep their weight down. It speeded up their metabolism and helped them get through the twelve-, sometimes fourteen-hour days, sitting in front of a camera and changing costumes. It seemed obvious to Elle that these women were nothing more than Tony’s playthings, and definitely not the sort of woman he would settle down with.

  She was surprised one afternoon when he had turned up at her bungalow, out of the blue. During their catch-up he had mentioned a woman he had met at a party, last Christmas. His tone was different, and he seemed remorseful about not knowing who she was. Then, suddenly, he had snapped out of it and left. She felt he had needed to get it off his chest and needed to speak to ‘mum’, or someone closely related to that word.

  ***

  ‘Will you two be showing your faces at the party tonight?’ said Sharon. ‘These dancers do work for you, you know, maybe you should put in an appearance.’

  Tonight was the club’s Christmas party for the strippers. None of them had ever met Tony; he had always given the revue nights a wide berth. He concentrated more on the casino in the early part of the week, but was still the host of the weekend party nights at the club.

  ‘Why do you need me there? You’re in charge. You’re their boss, Sharon,’ said Tony. It was becoming the busiest time of the year again and if last year was anything to go by, it was going to be hectic.

  ‘Because, you poor tired old men, I’m their boss but they work at Lambrianu’s.’ Sharon was adamant they should attend. If nothing else, it was good manners.

  Tony wasn’t keen. The thought of smiling and standing around his employees didn’t exactly excite him, even though he could see Sharon’s point. He looked at Jake. ‘What do you think? Shall we make the effort and show our faces?’

  ‘We could have one drink, Tony; wish them all merry Christmas, then leave. That way, they’ll have all met the man behind the myth.’

  That was it settled, then, and Sharon seemed content with that. She went off to check the arrangements for the party.

  ‘I have to go, boss,’ said Jake.

  ‘Anywhere interesting?’

  ‘I have a meeting with a jeweller for Sharon’s Christmas present. I’m hoping this will pacify her so I don’t have to go to another one of her sister’s parties. God, I remember last year; it was painful and my digestive system suffered for days.’

  Tony laughed. ‘Price of love, eh?’

  Jake rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll be back in half an hour or so.’

  Tony watched Jake leave, and then something occurred to him. The last time Jake had to go to Sharon’s sister’s party was the night he had gone to Stan’s pub to collect some money. Was it really a year since then? A smile crossed his face, ‘Cinderella’, that’s what Jake had called his mystery woman from the beer garden. He found himself thinking back to that night and wondering what she was doing now.

  He wondered if she had ever thought about him; there had never been any kind of feedback from that night, so maybe Jake was right. She didn’t know who he was or she was married.

  Tony frowned, maybe she was married and he had been a bit of drunken fun. He knew how that felt; he had done it many times himself. It felt different being on the other end of things, for a change.

  Christmas, although people looked forward to it and scrimped and saved all year around to make it a day to remember, seemed like a sad, lonely time, as well; maybe that was why people made such an effort.

  Tony picked up his pen and continued making his lists for how much cheap champagne he would need to substitute for the good stuff. People were always drunk at Christmas and after a couple of bottles never realised what they were drinking. They were so thirsty from all that dancing they seemed to pick up their glasses and swill back whatever was in them.

  After a while he put his pen down again and poured himself a whisky. As he nursed his drink, his thoughts wandered back to last year and his encounter with the beautiful stranger in the beer garden. For the first time in a long time, he had felt like a man. He wasn’t famous Tony Lambrianu. He was just some random guy with a woman who wanted him, just him. Not for who or what he was, but just for being a man who had taken her fancy and with whom the chemistry was right.

  Well, that was one Christmas memory to cherish. He wondered to himself if he would ever have any more to look back on as fondly.

  As he pondered, the telephone rang.

  He picked it up. ‘Lambrianu’s.’

  ‘Tony, is that you, son? Ralph Gold. I have a free appointment in my diary. Let’s talk.’

  'Of course, Ralph, I’ll just get my diary and make sure I’m available.’ Tony's hands were shaking; he had waited so long for this call.

  'I'll give you that one, son, nice try. Don’t bother looking in your diary, this is a one-off opportunity. I’ll send you the date, time and place of the meeting. If you turn up, you do and if not … well, you go to the back of the queue.’ Ralph hung up.

  Tony put the telephone down. He was still shaking, but bursting with excitement. Jeez, what a Christmas present.

  Just then, Jake pushed the office door open. ‘Mission accomplished,’ he said. ‘I guarantee my wife will love her Christmas present.’

  ‘Never mind that,’ said Tony.

  Jake looked at Tony and took in the excitement on his face. ‘What’s up with you? What's happened?'

  ‘Ralph Gold has just got off the telephone. He's arranging a meeting. For fuck’s sake, Jake, we've done it! We have bloody done it!’ Tony was shouting at the top of his voice. Jake laughed and they hugged. This was a dream come true.

  'Tonight is my lucky night. We’re going to the casino.’

  'What about the party? We have to show our faces there, first.' Jake was grinning broadly.

  'Oh, God, yes, I forgot about that.’ Tony looked deflated.

  'It's your lucky night, Tony. One drink with the troops and we’re gone. You never know, you might even meet a lucky lady!'

  Tony nodded. 'You’re right, Jake. I don’t care, let’s have a drink, have some fun. The next year is going to be fantastic.’ Tony put his hand up to give Jake a high five. They were grinning at each other like two schoolboy
s. ‘Mind you,’ he said, ‘not a word to anyone else about this meeting, not until we get all the details, just in case something goes wrong.’

  ‘What’s going to go wrong? It's fantastic news.’

  'It's our fantastic news and I couldn’t have done it without you, brother.’

  Jake refilled Tony’s glass and poured a whisky for himself. He held his glass up in salute. ‘Here’s to you,’ he said, ‘the luckiest bastard that ever lived!’

  ‘Tony laughed and they clinked glasses. ‘To us!’ he said, and they each took a drink.

  Jake shook his head. ‘Christ, you did it. You actually pulled it off.’

  ‘Tonight, I feel like the world is my oyster and I could rule the world. I'm Tony Lambrianu, the luckiest man alive, and tonight is my lucky night!’

  ###

  Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review. It doesn’t have to be long and it helps other readers find books they like.

  Books by Gillian Godden

  Francesca

  Dangerous Games

  Nasty Business

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Gillian Godden is a Northern-born medical secretary for NHS England. She spent thirty years of her life in the East End of London, hearing stories about the local striptease pubs. Now in Yorkshire, she is an avid reader who lives with her dog, Susie.

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