by Hugh Fraser
‘Yes,’ I say and hand it to her.
She looks it up and down and says, ‘Blimey.’ She turns to the second page. ‘What are bloomers?’
‘Big knickers.’
‘What do I need them for?’
‘Nice and warm in the winter.’
‘What’s a straw boater when it’s at home?’
‘It’s a hat, silly. Henley Regatta and all that.’
‘When are we going to the shop?’
‘This afternoon if you like.’
‘Ok.’
I see that the phone number for Perry’s Uniforms is on the clothes list. It’s a Knightsbridge number that’s easy to remember so I leave her reading the list while I go to the phone in the hall and dial it. A woman answers and when I explain that we want the uniform for Leavenden she says we can come in at three o’clock. I tell Georgie what time we’re going, then I close the kitchen door and dial Tony Farina’s number. When he answers I say, ‘I need to see you.’
‘Can you come now?’
‘Half an hour.’
I go into my room and take off my clothes. All I want to do is get into bed and sleep but the vision of that dead girl all got up for His Lordship’s pleasure keeps me on my feet. I put on clean underwear and nylons, a black skirt and jacket with a silk blouse and a pair of black heels. In the bathroom I splash my face with cold water and put on mascara and lipstick. Georgie’s back in her room reading. I tell her I’ll be back in time for lunch and head for the lift.
• • •
Two men in dark suits come out of Tony’s office and one of them nods at me as they pass. I know I’ve seen him somewhere but I don’t know where so I give him a quick smile and go on looking at the picture of the beautiful lake and wishing I was there. Tony opens his office door.
‘Rina. Sorry for keep you waiting. Please to come.’
I follow him into the office and sit in front of his desk. He goes to the cocktail cabinet and picks up a bottle.
‘For you?’
‘Not now thanks.’
He pours himself a drink, sits behind his desk and says,
‘Heinz.’
‘He’s killing your girls, taking them to the country for an old creeper to dress them up and fuck them cold.’
Tony swallows a mouthful of his drink and puts the glass down. ‘Who’s the creeper?’
I’m going to kill the German anyway and I may as well get Tony to pay me for it but I reckon it’s safer to keep him in the dark about whatever else I’ve lifted the lid on down at the old country seat.
‘Just some old fossil,’ I say.
‘Where’s the house?’
‘Somewhere out west in the sticks.’
‘You don’t have the address?’
‘It was dark and I was keeping my head down.’
He gets up, refills his glass and stands looking out of the window. I reckon he knows I’m not giving him everything but there’s not a lot he can do.
‘Ok. Enough with the girls anyway. You take care of Heinz for me?’
‘It’ll be two large. One now and one when I’ve done him.’
‘How soon?’
‘Soon as I find him.’
He comes and sits behind his desk, opens a drawer, takes out a bundle of fifties, counts off twenty and hands them to me. I fold them and put them in my bag. As I move to the door he says,
‘You keep in touch.’
On the way back to the flat I stop on Edgware Road and buy a couple of meat pies from a baker’s shop. It’s gone half past ten by the time I get home. I tell Georgie we’ll go shopping after lunch and to wake me up at one o’clock. I put the pies in the kitchen and the money behind the bath then I go into my bedroom, take my clothes off and slip between the sheets.
• • •
I’m in the red room again and the dead girl’s lying on the bed. She’s bruised black and blue all over and her skin’s peeling off her legs and her arms. I turn and try to open the door but it’s locked.
My hand goes to my pocket for my lock pick but I look down and I’m naked as well. I rattle the door and try to pull it open but I can’t shift it. I look round and the girl’s opening her eyes, getting up off the bed and coming towards me. There’s blood dripping off the ends of her fingers as she walks. Her eyes are black and wide open and she’s staring at me and grinning with bright red lips stretched over gleaming white teeth. As she comes near me I open my mouth to scream but I can’t make a sound. She reaches out for me but I slip past her, run through a gap in the red drapes and I’m in a field in moonlight and I’m trying to run but my legs are like lead and I can hardly get one in front of the other. I struggle forwards over the wet grass and my legs are getting heavier and heavier and I can hear the girl laughing behind me and she’s getting closer. I feel her clawing at my shoulders and I’m using all my strength to keep going and all at once there’s a big broad tree in front of me and the man with the shotgun is there. The girl screams and I stop in front of him. The girl’s standing beside me and the man’s giving me that slight smile and looking me slowly up and down. When he looks at the girl she lowers her head and starts trembling. He puts his hand under her chin, lifts her face up and looks into her eyes. She turns slowly and walks away from us and after a few steps she fades into darkness. I look back towards the man but he’s gone and the tree is moving and changing shape. The wood is becoming smooth and flat and shiny and then I recognise my wardrobe and Georgie’s knocking on the door.
I tell her to turn the oven on and I get out of bed, go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face to shoo the dream away. I put on the black suit I was wearing earlier and go through to the kitchen. I put the pies in the oven and open a tin of beans to have with them. I put the beans in a pan on the stove, light the gas, stir them with a wooden spoon and hope I’m not going to dream about what was in the last saucepan I looked in. When it’s ready I call Georgie and we eat at the kitchen table. She’s asking me questions about the school and that and I can tell she’s worried about going but I’m glad to see that she’s excited. I really hope she’s going to be happy there. I know she’ll do well with the work, as she always has, but I’m hoping she’ll make some friends and start enjoying life.
I wash up the plates and Georgie dries them. I pick up the list from the table and we put our coats on, go down in the lift and walk over to where the car’s parked in Hall Road. I check under the wheel arch and find a message from Nick to meet in the Warrington at ten o’clock tonight. I screw up the paper and put it in my pocket then I drive us to Knightsbridge. Georgie finds the Third Programme on the radio and we listen to an orchestra playing. It finishes when we get to Hyde Park Corner and while they’re clapping the announcer says it’s from the Wigmore Hall and the soloist is a woman called Jacqueline du Pré. Georgie says she’s brilliant because she’s only sixteen and she’s a prodigy. I don’t know what a prodigy is but I don’t let on.
I park the car in Beauchamp Place and we walk past the expensive clothes and jewellery shops. Perry Uniforms is near the corner of Old Brompton Road next to a hairdresser’s. As I open the door a tall woman and a little girl are on their way out with a young bloke with very blond hair, who looks like a shop assistant, following behind them carrying two big carrier bags and a hat box. We stand back to let them pass and the woman nods to us as they head for a Bentley parked at the kerb. The chauffeur sees them and scoots round the back of the car to open the door for them. When they’re seated inside he opens the boot and helps the assistant put the bags in. The assistant waits until they drive off and then he opens the door to the shop, ushers us inside, stands to attention, flicks his hair back and says, ‘Can I help you madam?’
‘I made an appointment for three o’clock. We want a uniform for my sister who’s going to Leavenden School,’ I say, indicating Georgie.
He looks doubtful for a second as he registers my accent so I take the list out of my pocket and say, ‘She’s going to be in Richmond House.’
He clears his throat and says, ‘Certainly madam. Allow me to fetch someone for you.’
He minces off to the back of the shop swinging his bum and comes back with an older woman with grey lacquered hair, wire rimmed glasses and a disapproving look on her face. Our man puts his hand on his hip and says, ‘This is Miss Stewart. She’ll be looking after you.’
By the look of Miss Stewart I think I’d rather have blondie looking after us but I tell her our names and she spares us a tight smile. I show her the list and she asks us to follow her upstairs.
We walk past rows of clothes rails to a fitting room at the far end of the shop. Miss Stewart shows us in and writes down Georgie’s name and takes her measurements, then she tells us she’ll be back in a moment and disappears. The room’s got mirrors all round and Georgie can see herself from angles she’s never seen before. While I sit down she turns around and looks at herself and then she puts her arms out and then up over her head, then she stands on one leg and slides her other foot up to her knee and I can tell she’s thinking about the ballet lessons she’ll be having and I’m hoping it’s all going to be all right for her.
Miss Stewart comes back in with an armful of clothes, followed by a girl carrying more.
They hang up various coats and dresses and lay out blouses and skirts and underwear and stockings and shoes on various chairs. Georgie’s asked to take her clothes off and try things on. They begin with the underwear, including the bloomers and work their way to the skirts and blouses and coats. The things that fit go on one pile and the things that don’t on another while the girl is sent off to get replacements. Georgie puts on a uniform of a grey pleated skirt with a white Clydella blouse and I show her how to tie the house tie that goes with it. She tries on a dark blue blazer that Miss Stewart says is for weekdays and then a crêpe dress that’s for Sundays and evenings. Georgie says the crêpe dress is scratchy and uncomfortable and I can see she doesn’t like it, but I tell her it suits her and she does look really good in it. Then there’s the straw boater and a blue woollen cloak with a hood that’s also for Sundays. It looks like it’s from the olden days but Georgie seems to like it and she swirls it round herself and looks at it in the mirror. Miss Stewart takes a note of her being in Richmond House so that they can put the right colours on the hat band of the boater and then she disappears and comes back with singlets and shorts and plimsolls and white socks for sports.
When Georgie’s been fitted with all the sports clothes Miss Stewart asks me if I want name tapes put in the clothes. I say that I do and she says she’ll send some extra ones to the school for the clothes Georgie’s travelling in and that she’s to give them to the matron to have them sewn in. She leaves us again and comes back with a strange looking wooden thing that looks like a fishing net.
She says it’s a lacrosse stick and tells Georgie to try it. Georgie looks confused and Miss Stewart, looking even more irritated than she has so far, tells her to pick it up and see if it’s too heavy.
Georgie swings it about a bit and says it’s all right and Miss Stewart puts it on the pile, then she has a look at the list and tells us that will be all.
I look at the amount of gear we’re buying and realise that I’ll never get it all in the back of the Mini. I ask her if they can deliver and she tells me that they can send everything to the school if we wish but that we will require a trunk. I ask her where we can get one and she says they have a luggage department in the basement. She tells the girl to make a list of all the clothes we’re buying, and leads us out of the fitting room and down the stairs. She asks us if we’d like to take one outfit with us now for Georgie to travel to school in and I say we would. She tells us to go to the basement and select a trunk and then to return to the ground floor so that she can prepare the account.
As we get to the bottom of the stairs the young bloke with the blond hair appears and says, ‘Did you get everything you need?’
‘I think so,’ I say.
‘So now you need a nice big trunk to stow it all in, eh?’ He winks at Georgie, turns on his heel and says, ‘This way ladies.’
He leads us past rows of suitcases to the back of the shop to where there’s a line of cabin trunks standing against the wall. He stops in front of a metal one, pats it on the top and says, ‘This is a Mossman in stucco aluminium. Nice and roomy with good chunky brass clasps and locks so you don’t rip your nails apart trying to open it, quite light too for the size and it comes in silver like this or a nice azure blue like the one over there in the corner.’ He swivels away from the Mossman, sits on the one next to it, crosses his legs and says, ‘Then you’ve got your Antler. More traditional but hard wearing in a brown Rexine fibre with wooden bracing. All a bit dowdy for my liking but it takes all sorts.’
As he moves on to his next exhibit and puts his arm round it I look at my watch and realise we’d better be getting on if we’re going to get to the ballet shop before closing time. As he opens his mouth to speak I point at the Mossman and say, ‘We’ll take that one thanks.’
He looks a bit crestfallen for a second then he sniffs, looks at Georgie and says, ‘Do you like the silver or the blue young lady?’
‘The blue, thanks,’ says Georgie.
‘Good taste as well as good looks, eh?’
Georgie looks embarrassed but I can tell she likes the compliment. As we move to the stairs I remember another thing that was on the list. I turn to the assistant and say, ‘We’ll need a tuck box as well.’
‘Of course you will. They’re just over here,’ he says.
He leads past more suitcases and shows us a row of wooden boxes with metal corners standing on a shelf at the far end of the room. They all look the same so he shows us the inside of one and finds a small padlock to go with it. I tell him we’ll have it and I decide to take it with us in the car so I can put some treats in it for her before she goes.
Miss Stewart looks a bit taken aback when I put three hundred and twenty notes on her desk after she’s handed me the bill. She gets all flustered when she can’t find change and she has to go into the back office to get it. I tell her that Georgie’s going to Leavenden on the four-fifteen from Victoria next Sunday and she makes a note of it and tells me the trunk will be put on the same train.
I put the tuck box and the bag with her travelling clothes on the back seat of the car and it’s over the river to the Royal Academy of Dance shop in Battersea Square for the ballet clothes. The girl serving us is really nice and not all that posh and Georgie seems to enjoy trying on the leotard and the little skirt and the ballet shoes. We buy what she needs and I take Georgie for a cream tea at Lyons Corner House at Marble Arch on the way home.
14
The Warrington’s well crowded and noisy when I get there just after ten and I press through the crush to the bar and wait to get served. A gent in a striped suit sitting on a bar stool offers to buy me a drink and I tell him I’m waiting for someone. When he starts slobbering and telling me how ravishing and gorgeous I am I remember why I don’t go to pubs any more and move away from him along the bar. I buy a large whisky and head for the back of the room where there’s a bit of breathing space. A couple get up from a small table and I sit down and put my handbag on the other seat. I’m beginning to wonder where Nick is when I see him come in. He looks around until he sees me then he gets a drink from the bar, makes his way over, turns the chair so that it’s facing away from me and sits. He opens a copy of The Times and starts reading. Without looking at me he says, ‘You were at Ringwood.’
‘I thought I could do what I wanted.’
‘As long as it doesn’t affect company business.’
‘If the company’s in that kind of business, I’m out.’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘How?’
‘It’s a question of the greater good.’
‘A greater good than young girls getting slaughtered?’
‘There are some situations that we can’t control as we’d wish.’
; ‘Oh yeah?’
‘There is a man at Ringwood who is in a position to compromise a vital aspect of the security of this country. If he were to do so, the consequences would be catastrophic.’
‘And he will if the company stops supplying him with dead women to fuck?’
‘I can assure you that we have no involvement in his private activities.’
‘Apart from protecting him.’
He turns the page of his paper and flicks it with his wrists as if he’s telling it to behave. After a bit he says, ‘This is not a situation you should be involved in.’
‘It’s a bit late for that.’
He folds up his paper, turns round, looks me in the eye.
‘If you honour your contract with Farina I shall name you as the murderer and place absolute proof of your culpability before the police.’
His tone is hard and I can see he means it. The amiable posh boy has turned into someone to be reckoned with. I’m wondering how he can know about the contract to kill Heinz.