by Unknown
‘Seen with me where?’ Larry asked, pouring himself a large shot and Doug a smaller one.
‘We’re taking you out to dinner,’ Georgie told him. ‘So drink that and let’s get you cleaned up. And I sincerely hope you’ve got a shaver in the bathroom, because that stubble has got to go.’
‘It’s prison chic,’ Larry quipped, glad to see that she obviously had no intention of pussyfooting around him.
‘Yes, well, you should have left it in the prison where it belongs,’ Georgie chided, stirring a sweetener into her coffee. ‘I’ve had to look at that miserable face through the glass for long enough without comment, but you’re out now, and we want the old Larry back.’
The doorbell rang just then. Tutting softly, sensing that this was just the start of an endless round of visitors coming for a gawk at the returning hero, Georgie flapped her hand to tell Larry to stay put and, wiping her hands on a tea towel, bustled out to answer it.
Her smile slipped when she saw who it was.
Stepping out into the corridor, she pulled the door almost to behind her so that Larry wouldn’t hear who she was talking to, and said, ‘What do you want?’
Embarrassed, Gaynor dipped her gaze, and said, ‘I know I shouldn’t be here, but I need to see Larry.’
‘Why?’ Georgie peered at her incredulously. ‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? That man did nothing but love and respect you, and you damn near destroyed him.’
‘I know,’ Gaynor admitted, sighing heavily. ‘And I want to say I’m sorry.’
‘Bit late for that,’ Georgie huffed, folding her arms.
Looking her in the eye now, Gaynor sighed again. The older woman had every right to be angry with her, but this was between her and Larry.
Fortunately, Larry himself came to the door just then, curious to know what was keeping Georgie. As shocked to see Gaynor as Georgie had been angry, he just stood and looked at her.
Saying, ‘Hello, Larry, you’re looking well,’ Gaynor put her hands in her pockets and gave him a nervous smile.
Murmuring ‘Stephanie,’ Larry gave a tight half-smile of his own, confused that he was neither furious nor filled with hatred as he looked at her. She’d betrayed him in the worst possible way, yet there was still a spark of something preventing him from telling her to get lost.
‘Can we talk?’ she asked now, trying to ignore Georgie who was glaring at her.
Inhaling deeply, then exhaling resignedly, Larry nodded and stepped back into the hallway.
Raising her eyebrows incredulously, Georgie had no choice but to step aside and let Gaynor enter. Going in after her, she closed the door, then went back to the kitchen, waving her hands in a what-can-you-do? gesture to Doug as Larry and Gaynor went off into the bedroom.
Standing behind the door when he’d closed it, Larry didn’t even look around despite the fact that he hadn’t been into this room yet since arriving home. Folding his arms as if to defend himself from his own mixed emotions, he looked at the only woman who had ever claimed any part of his heart and said, ‘So, talk, then.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Gaynor said calmly, determined not to let her nerves get the better of her and make her forget what she had to say. ‘And I know you probably don’t believe me, but it’s true.’
‘Why?’ Larry asked, his eyes dull with disappointment. ‘I thought you’d achieved your objective, so why regret it now?’
‘I did achieve what I set out to achieve,’ Gaynor admitted. ‘And I didn’t regret it at the time, because I was doing it for the man I loved. But I don’t expect you to understand that.’ Pausing, she gave him a tiny, sad smile. ‘Believe it or not, I started out hating you and thought you were getting exactly what you deserved. But then I got to know you, and—’
‘Oh, please!’ Larry interrupted, frowning cynically.‘And then you fell in love with me, I suppose?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Gaynor replied truthfully. ‘I still love Dex – stupid as that sounds. But I’m under no illusions any more, and I realised that what he and I did was wrong. That’s why I went to see your friend Inspector Keeton.’
Sighing, Larry ran a hand through his hair, which was in desperate need of conditioning and a good cut. ‘Well, I guess I’ve got to be grateful to you for that, haven’t I?’ he said. ‘So, thanks. At least it proves you’re not all bad, I suppose.’
Shaking her head as she felt a sting of tears behind her eyes, Gaynor said, ‘Please don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it.’
‘Listen, Stephanie,’ Larry said, immediately correcting himself. ‘Sorry, Gaynor . . . ’
Interrupting him before he could go on, she said, ‘Actually, I prefer it when you call me Stephanie. Sounds stupid, I know, but that’s who I was when I was with you. Anyway,’ she went on, smiling shyly, ‘I always did like the way you said it.’
‘So, that part of it wasn’t a lie, then?’ Larry said softly. ‘And the other stuff?’
Gaynor shook her head.
Frowning, Larry said,‘I’m sure there were times when you enjoyed it as much as I did. It couldn’t all have been an act.’
‘No, and I hated myself for that,’ Gaynor admitted. ‘But can we not talk about it, please, because I’m not exactly proud of myself.’
‘Sure,’ Larry said, shrugging off the last remnants of hope. ‘Anyway, I am thanking you, because you’ve taught me a lesson. And I know I should hate you for what you did, but I don’t. I feel sorry for you. I just hope you don’t stay with Lewis, because you’re way better than him.’
A tear escaped now, and Gaynor swiped it away with her finger and blinked rapidly. He was being kind, and she couldn’t handle it, because he should be calling her all the bitches under the sun.
Sniffing softly, she shrugged and said, ‘Well, that’s all I wanted to say, so I’ll get out of your way. Oh, and please don’t worry about your accounts and the apartment, by the way, because I won’t be trying to lay claim to anything. Same with your name – that’s all yours again, and I won’t contest whatever you say to get a quick divorce. Which,’ she added sadly, ‘is my real punishment, as it happens, because I’m Catholic and it’s a sin. But oh, well . . .’ Another shrug. ‘My family disowned me years ago over Dex, so what difference will it make if I don’t make it into heaven with them?’
Tapping softly on the door just then, Georgie popped her head around it and said, ‘Sorry for interrupting, Larry, but Craig’s on the phone.’ Casting a hooded glance in Gaynor’s direction, wanting to let her know that she hadn’t destroyed Larry after all, she added, ‘He wants to come to dinner with us tonight . . . to discuss your new series.’
‘Sorry?’ Larry frowned.
‘New series,’ Georgie repeated, grinning broadly. ‘Of The Larry Logan Show!’
Thanking the doorman for looking after her suitcase a few minutes later, Gaynor walked out of the building, leaving Larry and his real friends to their celebrations in his apartment above.
She was glad that things looked like they were going to work out for him, because he was a lot nicer than anyone had ever given him credit for. And she should know, because even after everything she’d done to him he’d still offered her money to help her out when she’d told him she was moving away to start over in a place where Dex and his family couldn’t find her.
The men of the family were in for the long haul, but the police wouldn’t be able to hold Nora, Molly and Jane for too long on the assault charge she’d brought against them once their solicitor got things moving. Gaynor had to be gone by the time they got out and came looking for her, or she’d be dead.
But she hadn’t needed Larry’s money anyway, because she had every penny Dex owned in her bag. And why not? He was never getting out again, and Nora and Molly certainly didn’t deserve it. And don’t even get me started about Jane getting her hands on it, she thought bitterly.
Anyway, it was hers, not Dex’s, considering that she’d earned the bulk of it while he’d been inside. Whatever he’d had before he went
in had long ago been gobbled up by his greedy family.
Heading out towards the kerb now to look for a cab, Gaynor noticed a figure huddled in the darkened shop doorway across the road. Doing a double take when she caught a glimpse of blonde hair beneath the hoodie, she narrowed her eyes, thinking, Surely not?
A black cab came by just then and idled to a stop beside her. Shaking her head, Gaynor waved him on his way and made her way over to the girl.
Squatting down in front of her, she said, ‘Hello, Tania.’
Not recognising her as the woman in the picture that she had of Larry getting married, and wondering how she knew her name, Tania drew her knees up to her chest, terrified that she’d been sent by the Lewises to get her.
‘I’m sorry . . .’ she whimpered. ‘I did what I was told, but they knew I was lying.’
‘Hey, it’s all right, sweetheart,’ Gaynor said softly, sensing that she was every bit as much a victim of the Lewises as she and Larry had been. ‘You only did what you had to . . . same as me.’
Reaching out to give Tania a reassuring touch on the knee, she frowned when she noticed the rucksack in the shadows behind her, on top of a dirty folded blanket.
‘Have you been sleeping here?’
‘I can’t go back to my flat,’ Tania muttered, clasping her knees still more tightly. ‘And my mum and dad don’t want to know me ’cos of what I did.’
‘Isn’t there a hostel you could go to?’ Gaynor suggested, concerned for the girl’s safety. She might be eighteen, but she was obviously still a child.
Shaking her head, Tania said, ‘No. But I’m all right. Soon as the social stop messing me about with my money I’ll get somewhere else to live.’
Sighing, Gaynor reached into her bag and took out her purse. Taking out two twenty-pound notes, she pushed them into Tania’s pocket. She could have given her much more, but she had a feeling that it wouldn’t really make any difference; that the girl would probably stay right here no matter how much she gave her, because it was as close as she could get to Larry.
Glancing down at her hands now, Gaynor gazed at the ring Larry had refused to take back and bit her lip thoughtfully. Slipping it off her finger on an impulse, she held it out to Tania.
‘What’s this for?’ Tania asked, taking it and gazing at it as if it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
‘To remind you that it’s not good to love people too much,’ Gaynor told her softly. ‘Because you only end up hurting them – and yourself.’
Getting up then, she turned and walked away.
About the author
Mandasue Heller was born in Cheshire and moved to Manchester in 1982. There, she has found the inspiration for her novels: she spent ten years living in the infamous Hulme Crescents and has sung in cabaret and rock groups, seventies soul cover bands and blues jam bands. She still lives in the Manchester area with her musician partner.