by Jacqui Rose
‘It’s nothing really, I met a girl in a pub and she said she might be able to get me some work.’
Lola frowned, not really liking the sound of it. ‘And what exactly will you be doing? You know you can’t trust people.’
Chloe-Jane smiled. ‘It’s all above board.’
‘So what is it, ’cos as far as I can see jobs don’t grow on trees? Maybe I can find you a few shifts at the café, once Fran has calmed down of course. It ain’t a bad gig, Casey worked for me and she had no complaints.’
At any other stage in her life, Chloe-Jane would’ve leapt at the chance of working at Lola’s caff, a few shifts here and there, but after what had happened with Franny, the idea of getting close to someone again frightened her. She’d get a job on her own, that way no one could take it away from her.
‘Thanks for the offer, but I think this is a sure thing. And don’t worry, it’s just a marketing job, you know, promoting clubs and bars.’
Lola nodded cautiously. ‘Are you sure, ’cos it’s not good trying to pull the wool over my eyes because I am the bleedin’ wool. I see everything love, and I’ve been everywhere.’
‘I know Lola, but it’s fine. Really … but thank you, thank you for everything.’
Lola wafted Chloe away. ‘You soft cow. Christ knows what you’d be like if I’d made you some of me scotch eggs.’
‘I better go, I’m meeting my friend at two.’
‘Well like I say, there’s no problem with you staying here tonight; I always like a bit of company, but as I said …’
Chloe-Jane smiled at Lola. ‘I know, Franny can’t find out.’
‘That’s my girl. I think you and me will get on just fine, Chloe-Jo.’
Half past two came and went and there was still no sign of Jodie. Chloe-Jane was about to start to despair when an unmistakable voice was heard coming from the other side of the bar.
‘Chloe-Jane, Chloe-Jane, Christ almighty you’d never believe the trouble I had getting here. You look tired, are you alright? How’s that uncle of yours? Did you see the news yesterday? They showed Soho; I thought of you. Oh that’s a nice shirt, me friend had one like that, not as nice as yours though, think she got hers from Primark. Have you had anything to eat, I’m starving. Do you know anywhere round here to eat?’
Chloe-Jane burst into laughter so hard she had to hold her sides. Since the last time she’d seen Jodie so much had happened and she’d been sucked into things she certainly didn’t want to be a part of. So it was good to see Jodie; really good.
Instead of answering any of the questions, Chloe-Jane just hugged her friend. ‘It’s great to see you. For a moment there, I thought …’
‘What? You thought I wasn’t coming? I’m as good as me word I am, unless of course me word is bullshit.’
‘So when are we meeting him?’
Jodie winked. ‘You’re eager, he’ll like that. He always likes girls that are.’
A slight cold worry ran through Chloe-Jane, but she pushed it away, trying to ignore it.
‘What do you mean?’
Jodie grabbed Chloe-Jane by the arm, pulling her towards the exit. ‘Oh don’t worry. I’m just being silly. Come on then if you’re coming. He don’t like to be kept waiting.’
Although it was only four o’clock, the dark basement of the tall six-storey building in Gerrard Street they were in made it seem much later. Chloe-Jane could smell something that made her want to be sick. She wondered if it was coming from the restaurant she’d seen on the ground floor of the building, with its array of powerful smells. Crispy belly pork, duck and what looked like a squashed deep-fried goose had hung from hooks in the window and Chloe had decided nothing could’ve looked less appetising.
‘Are you sure it’s down here?’
Jodie answered from the darkness, and Chloe could imagine her smiling. ‘Of course I’m sure, I’m not taking you on a tour of the London dungeons you know.’
Chloe didn’t say anything, mainly because it was exactly how it felt. Damp, cold walls and eerie sounds reminding her of the day one of her foster parents had taken her for a day out at the popular tourist attraction. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve certainly said that they were there, rather than underneath one of the buildings in Chinatown.
‘Are we there yet Jodie, I’ve never been keen on the dark.’
‘Baby!’
Chloe was about to protest but Jodie opened a door into a large room, which was also dark, but certainly nothing like the labyrinth of corridors they’d just come along.
‘Jodie, it’s good to see you, and who have we here?’ A man’s voice came out of the darkness making Chloe-Jane grab hold of Jodie in fright.
‘It’s the girl I told you about, Chloe-Jane.’
‘Bring her nearer.’ Mr Lee spoke out from behind the two-way mirror. It was important for him at this stage not to be seen.
Chloe was pushed forward by Jodie into the middle of the room where she stood feeling more exposed and self-conscious than she had done in a very long time. The eeriness of talking to someone she couldn’t see made her feel nervous
‘Jodie tells me you’re interested in working for me.’
‘Yes, I need to get meself a job.’
‘Then why haven’t you?’
‘I’ve tried, but things haven’t been so easy …’
‘And how do I know you’re a good worker?’
‘I am, I’ll work really hard. I don’t care what I do. I’ll do anything.’
‘Really? That’s a huge statement to make.’
For some reason, Chloe found herself blushing. She shrugged, not quite sure what she was supposed to say. ‘I dunno.’
‘Take your clothes off, Chloe.’
Chloe’s head whipped round to stare at Jodie, who looked away. ‘I … I …’
‘Right, well I can see you’re wasting my time, Chloe. I don’t think there’s anything more to say. Jodie will show you out; thanks for coming.’
‘No, wait! Wait! I need this job.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Please, I’m a good worker.’
Mr Lee’s tone was full of scorn. ‘So you say, Chloe, but as we’ve all just witnessed, what you say and what you actually do are two different things.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What I mean is you’ve just told us that you’re willing to do anything, yet when I tell you to do the simple task of taking off your clothes, you can’t manage to do that. How am I supposed to employ you now?’
There was a desperation in Chloe’s voice. ‘It was just a shock, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting it.’
Mr Lee laughed. ‘What were you expecting, Chloe? A job in a hotel?’
‘No … No.’
‘Do you really think you can earn the sort of money that Jodie’s earning by waiting tables?’
‘No, of course not, it’s just …’
‘Just what, Chloe? Wouldn’t you like to earn enough money to be able to rent your own flat, even buy one?’
Chloe-Jane listened, both intrigued and apprehensive. Having her own place was something she dreamed of, something that she’d thought of since she was a kid. A place of her own; somewhere where no one could throw her out, somewhere where no one could sneak into her bedroom at night and hurt her, somewhere where no one could take away the keys.
So as Chloe-Jane stood in the darkness, unable to see more than three feet in front of her, she decided whatever it took, whatever this man told her to do, it was worth it. Worth it to be safe. Worth it to have a place called home.
Slowly, but determinedly, Chloe spoke.
‘Let me start again … Give me another chance. I won’t let you down …’ And without another word, she began to undress.
29
Alfie Jennings looked across the park, watching the royal keeper’s car being driven carefully across the bumpy ground towards him. With his head banging from the scotch and the dry hot air which had pumped out all night from his car heater
, the last thing he wanted or needed was to have an encounter with some official telling him he needed to move on. He just wanted to be left alone and continue feeling sorry for himself.
He’d slept in his car and had turned off his phone, not that anyone was going to contact him. Not now anyway. How things had got this far, he didn’t know.
Alfie rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble. It was probably best if he went to the store to pick up a razor and have a shave in the gents before he faced the world; it was one thing feeling rough but looking rough was an entirely different matter; he still had an image to keep up.
Standing outside his Range Rover for a moment to stretch his legs, he looked out across Richmond Park, thinking about Franny and how not so long ago he’d have been waking up next to her; and making love to her, instead of waking up in his car miles from home.
Shit. He wanted to talk to her. He really did, but he couldn’t quite take the rejection if she didn’t want to know him anymore. His thumb for a moment hovered over the speed dial button, but the idea of listening to her hostile voice was too much, especially with a painful hangover. Perhaps he’d call her later.
Getting back in his car, Alfie felt the heat hit him, making him feel weary again. He looked in the driver’s mirror and saw his bloodshot eyes staring back at him. His skin looked pallid and dehydrated.
Lately he’d noticed how his face had started to show lines and the surprised comments had stopped when he told people his age, but no one could mistake his age today; looking at himself now, he looked like he was ready for his bus pass.
Women; they’d a lot to answer for. That was the cause of his problems, or any man’s for that matter. Scientists blamed men’s early heart attacks, strokes, premature ageing and even death on poor diet, smoking and excess drinking, when the root of the problem, Alfie was convinced, always went back to a woman.
He’d had a lot of friends and lost a lot of friends over the years, all from different backgrounds and different cultures, but the one thing in common, the one thing that pissed them all off, the one thing that had them tearing their hair out and ailed them, was women. Somewhere at the heart of every transgression was a woman; whether it was to do with money, sex or someone’s downfall, it always seemed to be the female of the species who was at the root of the cause.
Still deep in thought, Alfie Jennings put his Range Rover into gear and sped off out of the park, not noticing the small blue car begin to follow him.
30
‘Would you listen to this crap?’ Franny sat on the edge of the table in Lola’s café, looking at the newspaper, addressing no one in particular. ‘Gemini; today a mysterious stranger brings you good news and with the moon in Jupiter your worries will be eased … Could you spout any more rubbish to me?’
‘I take it you don’t believe in star signs.’ Lola raised an eyebrow.
‘Well let’s put it this way, if it read, Gemini; today you’ll wake up to the familiar sound of the road works, get stuck on the Euston Road behind an HGV lorry, followed by a row with a traffic warden for wanting to park near my own house, then Lola, I might say there’s something in it.’
Lola laughed, gathering up the plates on the table as Franny continued to look at the paper.
‘Okay, how about a crossword, Lola? You any good at them?’
‘Try me.’
‘Okay, here you go; one down. An error of judgement; eight letters.’
Lola fell silent as she became a picture of concentration, before a wide smile crept on her face. ‘An error of judgement … That’s easy … Marriage!’
Franny laughed. Lola was the perfect tonic. ‘What is it about us, hey Lola? Why do we make men our downfall? You’d think we’d learn, but we never do. We’re strong, independent, intelligent women, yet each and every time, we let men ruin our lives. Behind every problem there’s a man.’
Lola looked at Franny. ‘Oh I wouldn’t say that, Fran … I’d say in front of it, to the side of it and bleedin’ on top of it.’ She grinned at her friend before sitting back down next to her.
‘Look love, it’ll be fine, you and …’
‘Don’t say it. Don’t say, me and Alfie will work it out because we won’t. We just won’t. He lied to me and I don’t do lies. He knows that.’
‘But …’
‘No, no I don’t want to talk about him … I don’t suppose you’ve see any sign of Chloe-Jane, have you?’
Lola shifted in her seat. ‘No, why would I?’
Franny shrugged. ‘I dunno … I was just hoping. Put my mind at ease I suppose. I feel bad about what happened. If I knew she was okay, then …’
‘She’s fine.’
Franny sat up straight, narrowing her eyes as she looked at Lola. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I … I just mean she’s a survivor, ain’t she.’
‘Do you know something?’
‘No … no; I’m just saying, girls like Chloe-Jo will find a way to get through.’
‘It’s Jane.’
Lola turned round, looking annoyed. ‘Where? Because I want a word with that cheeky cow. She’s been going round saying me and Doc have something going on, plus she still owes me a score.’
‘No, not Jane from the sauna. I mean, it’s Chloe-Jane.’
‘Where?’
‘No, I mean. You said … Actually, forget it.’
Lola shook her head. ‘You need to get some rest, love, you ain’t making sense.’
Franny smiled, getting up to go. ‘You would tell me if you heard anything? She caused a lot of bother but I’d hate it if anything happened to her.’
‘Nothing will. She’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.’
Franny Doyle stood watching the machine breathe for Casey. There’d been no change, which she couldn’t tell if it was a bad thing or a good thing. The doctors and the ICU nurses hadn’t been forthcoming with any information either.
‘No change?’ A voice came from behind Franny. She turned round to see Detective Spencer’s smug expression.
‘You tell me, detective, after all that’s your job. Why are you here anyway?’
‘The same reason as you.’
‘We both know that’s not true.’
Spencer shrugged. ‘You’re right.’
Franny walked away, she didn’t have anything to say to this man. He was a vulture. Yes, he had his job to do but the enjoyment the man got from seeing others’ misery was hard to stomach.
‘We’re going to throw the book at him you know.’ Spencer talked in a monotone manner as Franny stared through the glass of the intensive care ward.
‘It was an accident.’
‘Really? I thought you weren’t there. Because according to Mr Sadler, he and Casey were the only ones there. Which does seem strange, especially as the club is owned by Mr Jennings, but then you’d know that, wouldn’t you?’
‘Everyone knows that.’
Spencer joined Franny at the window. ‘The thing I don’t understand, Ms Doyle, is why Mr Sadler was there in the first place.’
‘Why wouldn’t he be? It’s a bar after all.’
‘But why that bar, Ms Doyle? Especially as Mr Sadler and Mr Jennings didn’t get on, yet he finds himself in that bar with Ms Edwards.’
‘I don’t know. You’d better ask him.’
‘I have, and now I’m asking you. Why would a man go to a bar which is owned by a man he detested? An empty bar. No clients. No owner. Yet there’s Mr Sadler upstairs in the flat of Whispers. Who let him in? And why was the place like the Marie Celeste? None of it makes sense, Ms Doyle, none of it.’
‘You’re the detective.’
‘You know what I think? I think there were other people there. I think it wasn’t as simple as Mr Sadler’s saying it was. I think he’s covering for someone, Ms Doyle; after all where did the gun go to? That’s the thing about guns, they don’t have legs.’
Franny shrugged. ‘Who knows, stranger things have happened.’
‘I’m going to find out who and
what really happened, Ms Doyle, and when I do …’
Franny interrupted. ‘Don’t tell me, when you do, you’re going to throw the book at them as well.’
Spencer sneered. ‘Jennings, Williams, Taylor, all lying low, all at the same time? All out of British jurisdiction or un-contactable. Don’t you think that odd?’
‘Haven’t you ever heard of coincidence, detective?’
‘When you’ve been in the game as long as I have, you get to realise there isn’t such a thing as coincidence. So if you do speak to them, tell them I’ll be catching up with them for a little chat, and when I do, if they’ve got anything to hide, then …’
Franny turned to walk towards the exit. ‘… That book’s going to come flying. That’s an awful lot of books you’ll be throwing, detective, but if I were you, I’d hold off with the Waterstone’s vouchers … Oh, and I’d be careful who you go round accusing, otherwise you might wake up one day to find that gun has walked right into your room.’
31
The gates of Belmarsh prison opened and slammed behind Franny, making her shudder. Of all the prisons in and around London, she found Belmarsh to be the worst. Not because of the actual building but rather it was the sense of overwhelming hopelessness coupled with the almost visible tension amongst the prisoners. And it was here Franny found herself waiting to see Vaughn.
She wasn’t sure if he’d see her; after all she was certain he’d blame her for everything that had happened, as well as being part of the reason why he was sitting in a cell.
Franny watched the other prisoners’ wives. A group of women who made the journey come what may to sit for two hours opposite the man they’d chosen to be with, for better or for worse.
Franny always divided them into categories. There were the ones who were done up to the nines; head to toe in designer gear, and there were the frazzled ones, elbow-high in kids and debt as they took on all the worries of the outside world on their own. Those who took it in their stride; this was their life and it’d never change; visiting their banged-up partners was as familiar as going to the supermarket. And then finally, there were the ones – if you looked carefully enough – who had the look of relief on their faces; finally their old man was behind bars, unable to cause any more grief, pain or hurt, and whether it was for one month or ten years, the day their partner had been imprisoned and started their sentence was the day theirs had finished.