‘Annie’s father abused her. That’s why she changed her name. He’s dangerous. He did this to me. Help her.’
Matthew shut his eyes tight with the effort of speaking and Noreen watched, helpless, as tears poured out of the side of them.
He was helpless. Useless. He couldn’t even speak any more but he hoped his twin would know what to do. She usually did – even if it wasn’t always the right thing, Noreen always did something.
40
Lara was furious with Coleman for fobbing her off. She said it was important and yet heard real irritation in his voice when he asked her to come back in an hour. Who the hell did he think he was? After all that lovey-dovey stuff earlier.
The exchange through his closed door had just confirmed her worst fear – that Handsome had been telling the truth about Chevron. They were all liars and cheats in here. She thought Coleman was different, but it seemed he was worse than the lot of them put together. He had taken an independent, career-minded, creative woman and was trying to trick her into becoming his gangster’s moll. Indulge the little woman by telling her she owns a shop, wait for her to get fed up, then move her into a nice flat and wait for her to settle into a lifetime of cooking, cleaning and looking pretty.
Well, he had better think again.
In the meantime, she had to get Handsome off the premises.
‘Where’s Arthur?’ she said to Noreen as she was marching past the bar.
‘I think I saw him go into the office,’ Noreen said.
Lara’s fury rose to its full height. What on earth could Coleman be talking to Ironing Board about that was more important than her?
Noreen could see Lara was agitated. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Urgh. That useless article, Handsome. I tried to sack him and now he won’t get out of the shop. I need Arthur to remove him.’
Lara realised how pathetic it sounded but Noreen nodded. ‘I’ll go and get him.’
As she was going Lara realised that, actually, she did not want to take help from either Coleman or his sidekick. She headed for the stairs then dilly-dallied for a moment at the foot, remembering that Handsome was a nasty piece of work. She was about to go back when she heard a bang coming from the centre of the club. A fight breaking out or some kind of man-aggro and Lara did not want to get caught up in the frame – it made the decision for her. She had her own drama to contend with.
As she walked back to the shop, Lara gave herself a good talking to. These gangster types, all of them, were only bullying men. What they needed was a piece of her mind. There was no point in being cowed, especially if you were a woman. You had to stand up to them and show them they couldn’t walk all over you. She was going to start with that guttersnipe, Handsome, then work her way back to the other two ‘in an hour’, as Coleman had said. And what a going over she would give him! Move into a flat with him? Not a hope. And when she had finished she would approach Chevron herself and do some kind of deal with him on the shop. At the end of the day, Bobby Chevron was a businessman. She vaguely remembered promising Coleman to make Chevron’s wife some gear and as she reached the shop, she thought, maybe now was the time to make good on that promise.
When she put her hand on the door of the shop she found it locked. She was relieved. It meant that Handsome had left and locked up. Nonetheless, it meant he had a key, which she would have to get back off him. Also, it was a working day and, as she opened the door and stepped inside, she saw that the door still had its OPEN sign up. The idiot couldn’t even turn a sign. What the hell had she been afraid of? She reached over to turn on the lights at the door when he emerged from the shadows and put his hand over the light switch to stop her.
‘Hello, boss.’
Lara nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart thumped but she must not show him she was afraid. The key was still in her hand and the door open behind her.
‘What the hell are you still doing here? And why didn’t you turn the sign?’
She tried to keep her voice hard but her body felt weak and shaky. In the moment that it took her to get the words out, Handsome quickly snatched the key out of her hand and went to lock the door behind her. He had done this before.
She dropped her handbag and the edge of her scarf got caught in the door.
‘What the hell are you doing?’
This time the words came out high-pitched and afraid.
‘I thought we’d have some fun, boss. Take it nice and slow.’
‘Get out of my shop,’ she said in a terrified whisper.
But he was already moving towards her.
❊
It took Coleman no more than two minutes from running up the stairs of Chevrons to the door of That Girl, but it felt like an age. His brain had switched off as his body engaged. Lara might be in danger. And if she might be in danger, the need was as urgent as if it were a certainty. The possibility of her being hurt or upset by that creep Devers, in any way, was an anathema. It simply could not happen.
When he got to the shop, it was locked. A split second of relief turned when he noticed a piece of fabric halfway down the edge of the door. He pulled at it and the fine silk came easily towards him. It was the scarf Lara had been wearing earlier.
She was in there.
He began banging on the door furiously shouting, ‘Open the door.’ When nobody came immediately, he knew there was trouble.
He had to get in but there was no back door to this building. No delivery door, only high windows at the back. There was only one way. Brute force.
He had to stay calm. If he lost it he’d end up taking a run at it and dislocating a shoulder.
Coleman quickly looked to see which way the door opened by checking its hinges. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw that the door opened inwards, then gave a forceful and well placed kick to the side where the lock was mounted, near the keyhole. Using a long front kick, he drove the heel of his foot into the door, keeping his standing foot balanced by driving the heel of it into the ground. He was careful not to kick the lock itself and break his foot.
The wood began to splinter and Coleman kept repeating to himself, stay calm, keep on kicking. After half a dozen kicks, the door gave way and he ran in.
The shop was empty.
‘Hello?’ he shouted. Silence. There was nothing untoward, no fallen clothes racks, no sign of a fight. The shop was as neat as ever. Spotless. There was nobody here. Maybe he had knocked the door down for nothing. The beginnings of relief as he thought he might have acted rashly. He looked back towards the door and saw Lara’s handbag on the floor, the contents spilling out of it. The beginnings of a sick feeling as he reached into his pocket for the cartridge and loaded the gun. Then he heard a small muffled noise. Barely discernible, like a dog yelping in a neighbouring street.
He called out, ‘Lara? You in here?’
Another tiny yelp. It was coming from the direction of the changing room.
Slowly and with great care so that the cartridge did not make a snapping sound he loaded the Walther. Then he took off his shoes and began to walk towards the curtained area.
His heart was pounding; he was almost dizzy with adrenalin. If that creep had harmed a hair on Lara’s head – but he couldn’t think about that now. He went to the edge of the curtain and carefully snuck behind so as not to make any noise. Inside the dressing room there were four curtained areas, two of them with lavish, full-length curtains drawn across so that he could not see if anyone was behind them.
He put the gun to the edge of the first one and peeked in. Empty.
They were in the next one. Or not there at all.
But when Coleman quickly pushed back the curtain, he was ready for whatever was there.
At least he thought he was ready.
Lara was gagged, stripped down to her underwear with her hands tied behind her back. Her eyes looked at him, gargantuan and terrified. Handsome was behind her, naked. His eyes were darting with fear, indicating he was high, and he had a knife he
ld to the side of Lara’s neck.
‘I’ll cut her,’ he said. ‘I’ll cut her throat.’
‘Mate,’ Coleman said, ‘come on. How about sharing it around a bit?’
Lara’s eyes widened and she made a guttural noise.
‘She’s a pretty girl. I get it…’
‘You’re fucking with me…’
‘No, no, I’m not. I swear.’ Coleman lowered his right hand as if putting the gun on the ground.
Handsome smiled and relaxed his hand.
As he did Coleman shot him in the leg and Handsome fell screaming on his side to the ground. Then, before Lara could stop him, Coleman pointed the Walther at Handsome’s head and drilled two more into his skull.
41
Annie arranged the cheeseboard on the counter top and polished the six new Babycham glasses she bought as a sort of celebration for today. After their big day together, Annie and Matthew had agreed to leave it a few days before seeing each other again. Matthew wanted to get the whole priest thing sorted out before they moved forward. He did not want the deception to go on any longer than it already had.
‘The next time I see you, darling,’ he told her, ‘I will have rescinded my vocation. I’ll no longer be a priest.’
‘How do you know if I’ll still like you when you’re not a priest?’ she said teasingly. He looked slightly crestfallen so she leaned in and kissed him and said, ‘I can’t wait to have you all to myself.’
In the days since that glorious day together, Annie had tried to keep her feet on the ground. She had changed. Her life was changing. When Vogue went wild for Alex’s test picture in the park, Lara had, finally, persuaded Annie that modelling could be a lucrative career for her.
‘You’ll need plenty of money if you’re going to make a life with an artist,’ she cautioned.
Annie defended Matthew’s ability to make money as an artist but she thought Lara was probably right. Matthew wasn’t a rich man and it would take a while for him to get on his feet. She had not cared about having any more than the bare essentials up to now, but if she and Matthew were to be together, get married, do the things that ordinary people did, they would need money. So she told Alex to go about getting her an agent and already, she had three jobs booked for the following week.
She took three of the glasses and put them back in the press. She didn’t want Matthew to think she was having a party although, in her heart, she wanted her friends there to meet him. This would be a celebration of sorts and while she had not specifically arranged for Lara and Noreen to be there, they were in and out of the flat all day and Alex had said he might drop by to finalise some arrangements for next week. How wonderful it would be if they all turned up and met Matthew!
She checked the clock and it was twenty past four. Matthew was late. Her stomach shrivelled with fear that he might not come. Of course he would come. This was Matthew. Although, perhaps something had happened to him. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Or perhaps she had said half-past. Yes. That was it. There were ten more minutes before she should start worrying. To distract herself she checked the cheeseboard again. The big lump of orange cheddar looked unsightly so she decided to dress it properly. Annie took down her new cutter from its hook and began to meticulously cut it into thin slices. Repetitive, meticulous domestic work calmed her down, and sure enough – ding dong, there was Matthew at the door.
Annie threw aside her apron and the cheese cutter and ran down the stairs, then quickly opened the door and…
‘Hello, Hanna.’
She reeled backwards. Dorian wasted no time. With great speed he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. He cocked his head to one side and said, in a sudden quick voice, ‘Surprised to see me? Why Dorian you’re looking so well. You haven’t changed one bit!’
Annie was paralysed with shock. A ghoul, risen from the dead. Any pretence at handsome charm was gone and in its place was the physical embodiment of ugly anger. It was as if he had been turned inside out and now the world could see the monster he was. As he stood there now, Dorian was her worst nightmare made manifest. She had made him that way and now he was back to haunt her. Was he real or a ghost? Perhaps her love for a holy man had brought God’s wrath down on her and He had sent the devil, in person, to claim her.
But he was real, alright. Dorian grabbed her shoulders, spun her around and prodded her up the stairs. Weak with terror, she led him up to her flat. He quickly closed the door behind them, then secured the flimsy bolt lock and pressed a chair under the door handle, ‘Just in case,’ he said, and smiled at her. Annie felt a chill run through her. Again.
It was going to happen again.
‘There now,’ he said. ‘All cosy.’
He looked around him as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
‘This is nice,’ he said, as if he were her visiting stepfather, as if he still had his good looks and charm. ‘A very tidy arrangement. It’s Annie isn’t it? What do I call you now?’
As if she still belonged to him.
She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Annie couldn’t speak. Annie was gone.
‘Hanna,’ she said. She pushed the word out, forcing it up from her gut but it came out in a guttural cough.
‘Pardon? I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up my dear. My hearing is a little off since our little,’ and he coughed portentously, ‘accident.’
‘Hanna,’ she said, as clearly as she could.
He smiled. His eyes were as black and hard as granite.
‘That’s right. You’re Hanna – my stepdaughter and you have been a very naughty girl haven’t you?’
She felt sick. She could feel bile rise up from her stomach.
‘Answer me!’
‘Yes,’ she said.
As she held back the vomit, Annie’s shock began to subside and the reality of her situation started to sink in. Dorian was alive. Here, in the flesh. She had not killed him, after all. She was not a murderer. But – he was. He had cold-bloodedly stolen and destroyed the soul of a child. Her inner child. He had destroyed who she was as surely as if he had killed her.
Now, he was going to rape her and possibly kill her. Worse, he could take her back to Killa and they would carry on as before except this time there would be no escape. This life, Annie’s, all of it, would be gone. And Matthew? Love? It would all be no more than a distant dream.
‘Everyone had been very worried about you, dear Hanna. All the ladies of the village, Mrs Clarke and the like have been wondering where you were. They are very cross with you leaving your poor stepfather after he was so…’ then he drew his hand down suddenly and fiercely on the coffee table, ‘viciously attacked!’ The glass smashed in one long crack and she flinched.
Then, she remembered. Matthew. He was on his way. The relief subsided as she thought about what that meant. Would he rescue her? Would he be able to get in? If he did, what would Dorian say? He would tell Matthew that she had tried to kill him. That she had left him for dead. Dorian would play the poor cripple and manipulate everyone into his way of thinking. That was what he was good at. Matthew would believe she was lying about having been abused and people would believe Dorian. They would believe him even more now that he was crippled. She would be labelled a wicked murderess and Matthew would hate her. That would be worse than anything.
Her only hope was to stand up to Dorian. To show him that she was a strong woman. To let him see that Hanna had grown up into Annie. Annie was a strong, independent woman with friends and a job and a life of her own. Annie was beyond his reach. She drew herself up to her full height, raised her chin to give herself a haughty look that Alex had taught her, and said in the clearest voice that she could, ‘I want you to leave, now. Please get out of my flat.’
‘Really?’ he said, and laughed. ‘Is that the best you can do?’
‘My friends will be here soon and when I tell them what you’re like, what you’ve done—’
‘Ah, your friends. That skinny Jew that takes
those common pictures of you? I doubt he could do me much harm, even if he wanted to. And then there is the lovely Noreen…’
What was he saying?
‘Oh, didn’t you know? Noreen and I are great friends. In fact, she arranged to keep the flat clear this afternoon so that you and I could have our…’ and he sank his head in a dramatic gesture of humility, then looked up at her coyly, ‘emotional reunion.’
Annie was shocked but not surprised. Even him following her and all of this set up. She did not feel betrayed. This was how Dorian operated. If he was that determined to get her back, she had to be more so.
‘I’ve met somebody else.’
Even putting Matthew in the same context as Dorian felt wrong, but perhaps suggesting that he once meant something to her might appeal to some shred of normality in him.
Dorian looked at her for a moment and she could see the reference sinking in. Just not in the way she had hoped.
‘Ah, the boyfriend. Tall, slender chap. Not bad looking, I suppose. Rather serious though. And not much of a man by the look of him. Rather a lot of kissing and not much else.’
Annie felt the bile rise again. He had been watching them. The whole day she spent with Matthew. The day, which belonged only to them, had been witnessed by this vile man.
‘No, Hanna, I’m afraid you won’t be seeing that young man again.’
She looked at him and her eyes asked the question that her mouth couldn’t.
‘Yes, I’m afraid he met with an accident. He came close quarters with an iron bar. Repeatedly. Rather like myself.’
Annie ran behind the kitchen counter and vomited into the sink.
‘Oh dear, oh dear, what a terrible mess,’ Dorian said. ‘I thought you might be disappointed to hear that but you know, Hanna, in life you win some, you lose some. And those who live by the sword, I’m afraid…’
As he talked, Annie’s body emptied itself. And when she could feel her body was empty she kept the tap running and imagined she was purging her soul. Everything she had known being flushed down the sink. She did not want a shred of anything inside her. Without Matthew, Annie was as much a painful memory as Hanna was. It was all pointless. Without Matthew, there was no love. She had lived without it for so long, then found it here. Among these people and with Matthew she had started again. But women like her could never start again. If she couldn’t have Matthew, if she couldn’t have love, then she didn’t want anything inside her.
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