‘Wardrobe! Wig!’ With every fresh outfit she projected through her facial expressions and the placement of limbs a new story, a new mood. She altered the light in her eyes, acting out the part of the girl she wanted to be. The girls she read about in books, sewing magazines. Pretty, carefree girls, free without burdens. The girl she might have been before she knew pain. The girl her father would have loved if he had stayed alive. The girl that her parents wanted her to be. The girl her mother thought she would create with the help of a loving stepfather.
In front of the camera Annie was no longer a prisoner of the beauty that had inspired the savage love of a dangerous man. This was a new beauty, defined by Alex’s camera and her kind friend’s skilful makeup. This was a beauty that she was in control of. Annie would dictate the effect that her looks had on the world around her, not the other way around.
She modelled as if her life depended on it. In that moment, it felt as if it did.
Alex and Lara watched as the transformation came over shy, reticent Annie. From mousy beauty to powerful supermodel.
They knew they were watching something extraordinary. The special quality that Alex had seen in the earliest photographs, with her reluctant moves and her barely made-up face, were hugely exaggerated, not just with Lara’s clothes and wigs and makeup, but, more importantly, in Annie’s willingness to be there. Her hunger for the camera was insatiable as she moved, in small, confidant flicks of limb and hand. Placing her body in awkward, interesting shapes, throwing Alex sly side-glances one minute, then shocked seductive looks the next. He started off by guiding her, but after a few minutes, Annie was in charge and she was loving every moment.
After two hours Alex called it a day. Annie threw herself down on a large, round plastic chair, legs akimbo. She was utterly exhausted and, yet, felt calmer and happier than she had felt in a long time. If she had to put a word to it she would have said she felt – reborn.
Lara and Alex stood and looked at each other for a short moment. They both suspected they had unearthed something extraordinary, but neither felt able to put words to it. Certainly not until the pictures were developed. Alex went straight into his friend’s darkroom and began processing. Lara, saying nothing, went across and peeled the wig from Annie’s head then began to massage Ponds cold cream into her skin, removing it, and the makeup, with tissues. Annie’s face yielded to her friend’s touch and she smiled gently in a kind of peaceful reverie. It felt right to be pampering her in this way. Annie had cast herself in the role of house servant to Lara since they had met, and Lara had not objected as much as she should have. In the past few hours something changed. It was as if Annie herself knew she was a star.
The half hour that they spent waiting for the photographs to develop was the longest of Lara’s life.
Eventually, when Alex emerged from the darkroom, he looked more shocked than happy as he handed the printed sheets over to Lara.
She had been expecting a set of great pictures but nothing like this. She had never seen such breathtakingly beautiful images. Comparable to Shrimpton but with an even wilder, untamed energy. Alex looked at Lara’s face as she studied the pictures. He could see from her eyes, eagerly scanning the images, that he had been right. She saw what he saw. Annie was not simply beautiful or different – she was extraordinary. They had, in their hands, a revolutionary new look.
The naming of Lara’s clothes line had been a random idea, but Annie brought it to life. She was That Girl. Not just a dress, a handbag or a cute short plastic mac – but a live woman. A way of life. Penelope Podmore was now, they knew, merely a given. Alex and Lara had a Harper’s cover girl on their hands.
In the meantime, Annie had not joined them. She lay snoozing peacefully in the big yellow chair. Sated. Happy. Deep in the dreamless sleep of the innocent.
21
‘The boss wants to see you,’ Ironing Board said to Brian as he arrived at work the next afternoon. Brian didn’t bother answering him but as he was taking off his coat Arthur added, ‘Don’t bother with that. He wants to see you straight away.’
‘Jesus,’ he snapped, and gave Coleman’s idiot lackey a savage look. Coleman probably wanted to talk to him about that new Irish girl again. He hoped he had got rid of her like he told him to. The last thing he needed was that nosy cow sniffing around behind his bar. Especially with Shirley away, he couldn’t be sure his back was being covered. Coleman was going soft, especially on the girls these days. As Brian walked into Coleman’s office he noticed the moron had followed him in.
Coleman was standing with his back to the door and didn’t move.
‘What the hell is Ironing Board doing in here?’ Brian said, flicking his head behind him.
He turned and saw Arthur locking the door behind him, then popping the key in his handkerchief pocket before walking across the room and standing, legs apart, arms behind his back, next to Coleman. He adjusted his neck in his collar. Loosening himself up.
Brian felt sick.
‘I’ll tell you what Arthur is doing in here,’ said Coleman, turning around. ‘He is here looking out for an old friend. Isn’t that right Arthur?’
Coleman never called him anything but Arthur.
‘That’s right, boss.’
Arthur didn’t look like such an idiot now. His eyes were narrowed, like he had business in mind. Arthur looked hard and mean, like a man who could beat another man close to death with a prison-issue ironing board.
‘Arthur and I have known each other for a long time, haven’t we?’
Arthur nodded.
‘Arthur is a man who understands the value of friendship.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Arthur nodded.
‘And loyalty.’
‘Loyalty is very important,’ Arthur agreed, casually picking up a paperweight from Coleman’s desk and testing it in his hands for weight before placing it back down, ever so gently, as if afraid of scraping the leather.
‘And respect.’
‘Respect is very important,’ said Arthur before turning to Coleman and saying, ‘I respect you, boss.’
‘Thank you. And I respect you too, Arthur.’
Arthur closed his eyes in deferential thanks then the two men looked across at Brian.
He was hanging tough, keeping his mouth shut, inwardly praying that this banter was perhaps, just banter. Waiting, hoping against hope. However, both Coleman and Arthur could see from his saucer-like eyes and slack, slightly shivering jaw that he was not in good shape.
‘Coleman?’ Arthur said.
‘Yes?’ said Coleman.
‘Have you by any chance seen my cricket bat?’
‘Is that it there by the filing cabinet?’
‘Why, I do believe you’re right.’
Neither men took their eyes off Brian. As Arthur moved towards the filing cabinet Brian shouted out in a high, terrified voice.
‘It was Shirley! It was all her idea!’
Coleman felt disgusted that Brian had snitched Shirley out so willingly and so quickly.
Coleman, unlike his friend Arthur and boss Chevron, rarely laid a hand on anyone. Certainly never gratuitously. He worked with the truth that there was nothing to fear but fear itself. Once you started hurting a man you had lost him. Mostly though, if a man gave in to those urges, he lost himself. Coleman’s suave suggestion of violence was usually enough to get the truth out of people. If a man was sufficiently frightened, he would make himself disappear with no need for bloodshed. However, there were times that Coleman had to hold Arthur back. This, he knew, was going to be one of those times.
Arthur was shifting from side to side, his hands opening and closing in angry fists.
‘She put me up to it! Fixed everything up with the suppliers, everything. I didn’t mean to. I—’
Arthur was furious. ‘How dare you say that about Shirley. Blaming a woman? Shirley wouldn’t never do nothing like that. Shirley’s a lady…’
Brian let out a laugh. He couldn’t help it. Then, Arthur lost it
.
‘You fucking scumbag! I’ll rip your fucking head off.’ As Arthur lunged across the room, Coleman pulled him back, wrapping both arms around his friend’s chest. Arthur’s weight was strained against him. He was furious and strong.
‘He’s not worth it,’ he said through gritted teeth. Then he whispered in his ear, ‘Come on mate, pull it together.’ These histrionics would get them nowhere. This was turning into a bloody shambles. ‘You OK?’ Coleman asked. Arthur nodded. Coleman loosened his grip, patted him on the back and said, ‘You go out and get the doors open. I’ll deal with this scumbag.’
Arthur’s outburst had frightened Brian, but the fact that Coleman had protected him gave him pause. When Arthur had gone, Coleman looked Brian in the eye and said, ‘To be honest, I’m not interested in what Shirley did or didn’t do and I’m not interested in you either. I just want you out of my club, today.’
That was true. Coleman already knew all he needed to know. Shirley had betrayed him, but she was angry with him, and although he would never have assumed that she was in love with him, he understood that she was a woman scorned. Brian, on the other hand, was a gambling, cheating, ill-mannered, lazy and – now it turned out – robbing scumbag. He had already wasted enough time on him. The best thing Coleman could do now was make sure that the club was run tight to try to make up the money they had lost, and keep this incident from Bobby Chevron. God knows what he would do to Brian, but more especially Shirley if he found out he’d been betrayed in this way. Coleman didn’t think it was worth anyone getting hurt over.
‘That it?’ Brian said. This was a lot easier than he had thought it would be.
‘That’s it,’ said Coleman. ‘Make yourself scarce, keep your mouth shut, and never come back. Ever.’
Woah, Brian thought, Coleman really has gone soft. No wonder Shirley was able to scam him. No comeback.
‘Keep my mouth shut, eh?’
‘That’s right,’ Coleman said. ‘Get out, stay out, keep your mouth shut about all of this and you’ll be safe.’
Brian looked over at him, a sly expression crossing his flabby features.
‘I suppose Bobby would be very upset if he found out what Shirley’s been up to.’
Coleman’s stomach tightened. The stupid idiot. He had really hoped he wouldn’t have to do this.
Coleman leaned across his desk and opened the top drawer. He could hear his own heart pumping as he reached in and slid out the Webley shotgun, sawn down to the size of a large handgun.
‘Jesus Christ!’ Brian shouted as Coleman lifted the weapon, pointed it directly at his face and began to walk towards him. Coleman’s face was as calm as it had been at the beginning of their encounter, before Arthur lost his rag.
‘Coleman, I – Jesus – don’t shoot me!’
Coleman kept walking until Brian’s back hit the door of his office then slid down the oak panelling until he was lying on the floor in a snivelling ball.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please. I won’t tell anyone.’
Coleman knelt down beside him and gently placed the cold barrel of the gun under Brian’s chin, then pulled it around, forcing him to look into his face.
‘I can’t trust you, Brian. I can’t trust you to keep your mouth shut, can I?’
‘You can trust me, Coleman, I swear. Please don’t kill me.’
‘Do you think I’m a fool?’
‘No, no, of course I don’t.’
‘If you think there will be any comeback on me for this, Brian, you’d be very wrong about that.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘If, IF, I decide not to shoot you, Brian, do you know what I am going to do?’
‘Please, Coleman, please don’t shoot me I—’
‘I’m going to call Bobby Chevron and tell him what you did – on your own – and tell him you tried to blame his old friend Shirley. Do you understand?’
‘Jesus, Coleman, don’t tell Bobby.’
‘Then, I’m going to get word out to Handsome Devers and tell him that you were banging his ex-wife, while they were still married. You understand?’
Brian wished, in that moment, that Coleman would shoot him.
‘I don’t like getting angry, Brian, but Handsome and Chevron, well, they’re men who enjoy getting angry. You understand?’
Then, Coleman stood up and brushed down the front of his jacket with the gun.
‘I like this suit and I don’t want it messed up today.’ He gave Brian a small kick to the leg to indicate it was safe for him to stand up.
‘I’ll give you a twenty-four hour start before I make those calls, Brian. Now make yourself scarce. And I mean invisible. Like you never existed.’
Which, Coleman thought to himself, I really wish you never had.
When Brian was gone, Coleman put the shotgun back in his office drawer. He smiled to himself. It was unloaded. A man was only as dangerous as he was convincing.
Nonetheless the encounter had pumped him up. Coleman could almost feel his veins harden with the surge of adrenalin and testosterone running through them. He still felt angry. He put his feet on the desk, leant back and took a few deep breaths to try to slow the beating of his adrenalin-fuelled heart, but it didn’t work. His limbs were fizzing. He was tight, agitated – all wound up. He needed to wind himself down, relax. So he decided to take a shower.
22
Lara couldn’t wait to show the pictures of Annie to Coleman. Alex had taken them to Penelope at the Mail straight from the shoot, and Lara was surprised to note that the first person she herself wanted to share them with was Coleman. She told herself that his charming handling of Penelope on the night of the party had gone a long way towards cementing their relationship as business partners. He had proven himself to not simply be the money behind the shop by playing such a pivotal role in supporting her at the launch. Or, perhaps, now that she was working in the shop and not in the club, Lara needed an excuse to see Coleman. Perhaps, too, there was a frisson of wondering if the conversation she’d had with Noreen making a play for Coleman the night before had come to anything. She had not seen Noreen since she came in from her late shift.
Either way, Lara tripped down the stairs of the club and, knocking on her way in, opened the door and marched straight into Coleman’s office, just as he was coming out of the shower, a towel secured around his waist.
The shower had not done much to loosen Coleman’s mood or his muscles, so when he came back into his office and saw Lara standing there, the door open behind her, and a small amused smile on her face, he felt irritation more than surprise. The first time he had met her had been like this. Months ago. How many months was it? Six? Seven? Who was he kidding? Six months and five days. He’d been counting. What a fool! And just like that, Coleman decided that, today, he had had enough of being a fool. He brazenly looked Lara up and down. The long curve of her neck beneath the triangle of hair cut tight into her nape, her small breasts tapping at the front of her thin, white blouse, her brown eyes gazing across at him from a bare, pale face and those lips curved into that mocking smile. The disappearing curve of her thigh up into the micro-mini she was wearing made his decision for him. Coleman walked past her then closed and locked his office door. He grabbed both her elbows in his large hands and manoeuvred her across the room. Initially taken aback by the manhandling, Lara staggered along with him until she caught her breath, then pushed back at him until he fell onto the sofa and was seated in front of her. Towel miraculously in place, but otherwise, naked. She looked at him, looking at her. His eyes were drinking her in, as if she was the naked one. This wasn’t the fool in a towel she had first encountered six months ago. The cool, debonair club manager had disappeared too. Here was a savage, his eyes filled with defiant rage. Waiting. For her. By the weight of the fast, heavy breathing that was ripping across his broad chest he wouldn’t wait long.
This was not a good idea. Lara knew that. All the times she had not allowed this to happen in the past had been for very good re
asons. However, Lara’s reason had been hopelessly weakened by the desire that had systematically set fire to every sinew of her body the moment she had seen Coleman’s wet, naked body walk towards her with such intent.
Lara shook out her bob, unbuttoned her blouse and allowed herself to fall into him.
As his mouth opened in answer to her kiss, Coleman closed his eyes and became utterly lost.
❊
Noreen got all dressed up that morning in a sexy rig-out – a black skirt, high boots and a striped Bardot top. This meant she couldn’t wear a bra, which as she had quite large breasts wasn’t ideal, but then, she didn’t plan to be wearing it for long! Noreen had heard London was swinging and she was planning to swing it clean off its hinges – starting with heartthrob Coleman. She even played out some possible scenarios in her head. Noreen had seen the smutty seaside postcards and the Carry On films. She knew all the double entendres. You’ve done such a good job, Noreen – I think it’s time I gave you a bonus.
Noreen adjusted her bosom and smiled as she headed for Coleman’s office to report for duty and was just putting her hand on the heavy, soundproofed door when Arthur called out to her, ‘I wouldn’t go in there if I was you.’
He had seen Lara go in there just after Brian fled. The prick had lost his cocky edge alright. He was such a shaking mess, Arthur was pleased to note that he hadn’t even bothered to give his arse one last boot out the door. That had been just over two hours ago and Coleman hadn’t stuck his head out the door once. Arthur knew his friend. When a man was that hyped up and there as a woman on hand – there was only one thing to be done. It had only ever been a matter of time between him and Lara anyway. Still. In the middle of the day? It didn’t seem entirely right to Arthur. Especially as he now had to find a way of explaining it to Noreen.
‘Why not?’ Noreen turned around too quickly and her breasts, two loose cannons under the tight, striped top, followed her torso with an unseemly slap. Arthur’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as she shamelessly grabbed them in her hands to steady them.
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