The Trouble Girls

by E. R. Fallon

  “I can handle it. She needs to know what she did was wrong,” Camille replied.

  The phone rang a few times before Violet answered.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “It’s Camille.”

  There was a pause on the other end. “Why are you calling me? I’m not getting rid of Max, if that’s what you wanted to ask. I’m sure you know what your boyfriend and his friends did to my pub.”

  “Johnny had nothing to do with that. And my offer is off the table. I don’t disagree that it’s a shame about McBurney’s, and I’m sorry it happened.”

  “You’re apologizing to me? What changed?”

  “Nothing’s changed between you and me. The pub was a symbol in the neighborhood, that’s all, and I recognize that.”

  “Tell that to your boyfriend.”

  “I already said Johnny didn’t participate in what happened.”

  “But he must have known about it.”

  Camille didn’t want to agree so she stayed silent. “What you did to Pedro was wrong. I knew him, and he was a good kid.”

  “Pedro—who is that?”

  “You know who he is, he’s the kid you ordered your man Jake to kill to avenge what happened to your pub.”

  “No, the guys beat up some other guy—I don’t know his name—and I had nothing to do with it. They were drunk and saw him alone outside a restaurant. I never ordered them to do anything, and they didn’t kill anyone, they just beat him. I’ve already had a word with them because they’re not supposed to be drinking and they do senseless things when they drink.”

  “They killed someone tonight, his name was Pedro. He died at the hospital. I knew him. He was just a kid. You’ve done a terrible thing.”

  “Wait, who killed him?”

  “Jake killed him,” Camille said in exasperation. “Because you told him to.”

  “I never did such a thing.”

  “Yes, you did, you asked him to kill Pedro because it was your pub that was torched.”

  “No, I didn’t. I never asked him to do anything. If he did something, then it was his own fault, I had nothing to do with it. I’m just as shocked as you are.”

  “You’re lying,” Camille stated firmly.

  “No, I’m telling you the truth. I had nothing to do with what you’re talking about. Unlike your boyfriend and his friends, I can control myself.”

  “Your men beat up Rafael, that’s why Johnny’s guys torched your pub. Then one of your guys killed Pedro. Of course, I think that what happened to your pub is a shame, despite our hatred for each other. Your pub has been a part of the neighborhood for a long time, and you know how I care about the neighborhood. Don’t forget, your men started it.”

  “I didn’t ask them to do any of it,” Violet replied.

  Camille didn’t know whether she believed her. “You need to control your crew better,” she said, because she knew her words would hurt Violet.

  “Are you done here?” Violet said quietly. “Because I am. Goodbye, Camille.” She hung up.

  Camille turned around to find Johnny staring at her.

  “Did you overhear?” she asked him with the phone still in her hand and the sound of the dial tone droning in the kitchen.

  “Parts of it, yeah.” Johnny leaned in the doorway and smiled at her, and he had such a beautiful smile.

  “She denies ordering her men to kill Pedro. I’m not sure if I believe her. But hurting Rafael seems to have been their own decision. They started this whole thing.”

  “Still, I’m sorry about what my guys did to the pub, I know that place meant something special to you.”

  “Not to me in particular,” Camille clarified. “To the neighborhood. It’s been here forever. It’s symbolic. It’s hard to explain,” she said quietly, feeling silly. She put the phone on the receiver.

  Johnny approached her and rubbed her shoulders and she relaxed into his touch. “It’s not silly,” he said. “I don’t think anything you believe is silly. I love you.”

  Camille looked back at him and smiled. “I love you, too.” But the words pricked her like a little needle, for she felt that the vast secret she kept from him could unravel everything. “You’re a good man, Johnny Garcia.”

  “And you’re a good woman, Camille.”

  She felt as though she couldn’t accept the compliment, because she wondered, would he say that if he knew the secret she kept from him?

  Camille went to Pedro’s funeral with Johnny. She gave Pedro’s family her condolences and wondered if Fiona knew what had happened to him. She met Rafael while she was there, and he was quiet but polite to her, and she sensed that Johnny had asked him to be gentle.

  The day afterwards she decided to stop by Johnny’s apartment to surprise him. She had never been to his place and was curious about where he lived. Her heart was still heavy with the secret she kept, and she didn’t plan to reveal it to him anytime soon because she knew that doing so would be the end of them and she couldn’t bear that yet—or probably ever.

  The day was gorgeous, and the sidewalks quiet with everyone at work, so she decided to walk to his apartment. Johnny had mentioned he would be home that morning. Camille herself wondered if she’d have to get a day job. Being a gangster wasn’t paying the bills just yet.

  Keeping the secret from Johnny made her feel guilty, so she wanted to do something special for him and decided to bring him breakfast. She stopped at the bagel shop and bought bagels and coffee for them and walked the rest of the way to Johnny’s place.

  Camille discovered that she could enter the hallway of Johnny’s apartment building without him letting her in, so she walked straight on through and went up the stairs. She knew he lived on the upper floor, in apartment twelve. She balanced the warm bag of bagels and the tray of coffee as she walked.

  She walked down the hall to Johnny’s apartment and when she arrived at his apartment, she found the door open and a woman leaving holding the hand of a young girl. Camille bumped into the woman in the hallway and apologized. The woman smiled at her then went on her way with the child. Johnny appeared in the doorway, calling goodbye to the woman. But who was she? A relative of his?

  When Johnny saw her his face looked ashen. “Camille,” he said, unsmiling. “What are you doing here?”

  She showed him the breakfast she carried. “I wanted to bring you breakfast.” She glanced back and could see the woman and child walking down the stairs. “Who were they?” she asked Johnny, although straightaway she could sense that he was uncomfortable.

  “Camille,” he started to say to her, and she sensed she wouldn’t like what he was about to tell her. Johnny stood in the doorway, with her still out in the hall, and he hadn’t invited her inside yet. “She’s my ex-wife, and that’s my daughter with her.”

  Camille was so startled she didn’t know what to say so she said nothing. “How come you never told me about them? You kept them a secret from me.” Camille had kept her own secrets from him, and guilt plagued her as she spoke the words, but she still spoke them loudly.

  “I didn’t want to scare you away,” he told her, and his answer sounded honest. “I didn’t want you to think I had too much baggage.”

  He invited her inside, but she wasn’t ready to go in just yet. She didn’t know whether she liked his answer.

  “Here, take this.” Camille shoved the bagels and coffee towards Johnny, and he took them from her.

  Johnny looked at the food and drinks and thanked her.

  “I wanted to do something nice for you,” she told him. “I didn’t mean to drop by unannounced. Sorry I ruined your secret,” she said, not unsarcastically.

  “No, it’s my fault. I should have told you. I’m sorry, Camille. I didn’t want to scare you away.” He sounded sincere.

  “I’m not scared,” she said. “It doesn’t scare me.”

  Johnny seemed relieved, but Camille was still hurt by what he’d done, although she knew it was hypocritical of her, considering the secret she kept
from him.

  “Your daughter looks like you,” she said to break the tension, though she wasn’t ready to tell him she forgave him. “I’m just disappointed you felt the need to hide her from me. Does your ex-wife know about us?”

  Johnny nodded. “She didn’t know it was you in the hallway, though. Otherwise, she would have said hello and introduced you to my daughter. I was just seeing them out. My daughter visits me every week.”

  “What’s your daughter’s name?”

  “Phoebe,” he said.

  Camille felt funny standing out in the hallway, speaking to him in the doorway, but she didn’t feel comfortable entering. “How long were you and your wife married?” she asked.

  “Not for very long. Two years. It was when we were young, too young. We were just teenagers when we got married.”

  “What’s your ex’s name?” Camille asked.

  “Irene,” he said. He paused, then said, “Would you like to come inside? I can’t wait to try what you brought with you.” He nodded at the food in his hands.

  “Johnny, I’d like to meet Phoebe someday, when she’s ready to meet me. But I don’t want to have breakfast with you this morning.”

  “You’re angry with me?” He gave her a wistful look.

  She nodded. “I am, but I’ll forgive you, eventually.”

  “I understand,” Johnny said quietly, but there was devastation in his eyes.

  Camille left Johnny’s apartment building that day and didn’t see or speak to him for days, even though he rang her many times and left messages on her answering machine. She sensed that he knew she was upset with him and so he didn’t stop by her apartment. Part of her felt that it was for the best because of what she knew about their fathers, what she could never tell Johnny without him despising her. But she knew she had to forgive him because she loved him, even if that meant, eventually, they couldn’t be together because of her secret. Even if they were only together for a short while longer, it would be worth it because she received so much comfort from loving Johnny.

  So, one day she answered the phone when he called and spoke to him, and the next thing she knew, Johnny was at her apartment and they were in bed together, and together again.

  23

  Then a couple of days later when Camille was alone, she received a surprising phone call.

  She answered and heard Vito’s voice.

  “Camille?”

  “Yeah. What do you want? You better have some good news for me,” she told him.

  “Actually, I do. That’s why I’m calling.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Joe Alfonsi wants to help you,” he said.

  Camille couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and she could barely stand. She wanted to scream for joy, instead she said, “You aren’t kidding, me, are you?”

  “Of course not, Camille.”

  “The Alfonsis are ditching the McCarthys for me?” she said, wanting to hear him say it again. She had the phone cord wrapped around her hand and toyed with it.

  “Yeah, Camille.”

  “Does that mean they’ll let me run the neighborhood if I get control or that they’ll actually help me take over the neighborhood?” She remembered what had been said at the meeting, but she wanted to see if Vito had gotten them to change their minds, after all, a lot was at stake for him.

  “No, they’ll help you. They don’t want a full out war with the McCarthys, but Joe wants to start bringing you into our fold and pushing them out. For instance, there’s a gambling ring that, currently, Violet and Catherine run for us in your neighborhood, and now Joe wants you to run it. He’s going to send them packing. The McCarthys will get the message they’re not wanted.”

  “They’re not going to just go away,” Camille said.

  “We’ll take care of that if the time comes. But for now, I think they’ll listen. Nobody wants to make a guy like Joe angry.”

  “What made them change their minds?” Camille asked him, wondering if there was a catch and what it might be. She didn’t think he’d dare lie to her, but if he was desperate enough, who knew what he’d do?

  “They’re still loyal to Kevin, but his death changed things. He’s no longer present so he’s become more diminished in our minds. That sometimes happens over time.”

  “It didn’t take long. I thought that Joe Alfonsi was loyal to the McCarthys because of their connection to Kevin. What did you do to convince him?”

  “Joe just changed his mind. He does that sometimes. Consider yourself lucky. I didn’t do anything that great.”

  “You should consider yourself lucky,” Camille said.

  “So, are we even, then?”

  “Do you mean, am I going to tell my mother what you did? Where are you calling me from, anyway?” She pictured him at a payphone near the apartment he shared with her mother.

  “I’m at a payphone.”

  She’d guessed right.

  “You’re not going to say anything to her, right?” Vito asked.

  “Don’t worry, your dirty little secret is safe.” But Camille still planned to tell her mother about Vito someday, which would be a very unpleasant surprise for him.

  “Thanks, Camille,” Vito said, and sighed with relief. He waited for her to say something, and she didn’t know what more he expected from her. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

  “No,” Camille said, and hung up the phone.

  There was a knock on her door. She’d been getting dressed for the day and pulled her bathrobe tightly around her when she went to answer it. First, she checked through the eyehole, and saw Billy standing outside. What did he want? Had he come to tell her the news Vito already had told her, and had that news angered him? Camille didn’t know what kind of a reaction he would have, so she said through the door, “Why are you here, Billy?”

  “Did Vito tell you about Joe’s decision?” Billy asked her through the door.

  “He did.”

  “Can I come in?” Billy asked after a pause.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  He seemed harmless, so Camille opened the door. As soon as Billy saw her slinky bathrobe he stared at the shape of her figure and she wished she’d put on something more concealing. Standing in front of her, he looked as tall, fresh, and handsome as ever. He reached for her hand and she let him hold hers, and for a second it felt like the old times again.

  “I’ve brought the Russians over to my side, too, did you know that?” she told him with pride.

  “I didn’t, but that’s great.”

  Then something disturbing occurred to her, something she hadn’t thought of until then. “Do you think that will be all right with Joe?”

  “Yeah, sure. We work with them also.”

  Camille exhaled in relief.

  “I know the name of the guy you’re seeing,” Billy said casually.

  Camille let go of his hand because he suddenly seemed dangerous. “You leave him alone.”

  “His name’s Johnny Garcia, and he’s the gang leader of the Cubans. Rumor has it he’s in love with you and that you love him. Is this true?”

  Camille looked up into his eyes. “Yes, it is. Why are you here, Billy?”

  “I came to say congratulations. I heard about the old man’s decision to help you. You must be thrilled.”

  “I am.”

  “It did surprise me to hear he’d agreed. I did think he’d remain loyal to the McCarthys because of Tommy being Kevin’s son. But Vito tried very hard to convince him, and he did. You must have had something big to hold over Vito to get him to work so hard on your behalf.”

  “It’s none of your business,” Camille replied, and nearly closed the door in his face, but he stuck his foot out and prevented her.

  “I think it is, actually, as I am part of the Alfonsi crew.”

  “You don’t need to know everything.”

  “Tell me what it is, Camille.”

  “I know something about him that he do
esn’t want anyone else to know,” Camille told Billy because she felt it would be the only way to get him to go away.

  Billy looked a little surprised and very intrigued. “It must be something big because it made him try so hard to convince Joe.”

  She’d met Billy when they both were in high school, and he’d been the only man she’d ever been with up until they separated, so she loved him like family. But Billy didn’t know her secret about Vito.

  “Tell me, Camille. You can trust me,” he said when she gave him a look like she didn’t.

  “Come inside first,” she said, which was something she had been avoiding.

  Billy entered and she shut the door behind him. Standing close to him, he smelled of leather and expensive cologne and cigarette smoke, although he didn’t smoke—he spent a lot of time in pubs with his friends, although he didn’t drink much either.

  “Are you going to see him today?” Billy asked her.

  “Vito?”

  “No, this Johnny Garcia guy?”

  “Maybe. It’s none of your business.”

  “I hate it when you say that, Camille.”

  “Why? We aren’t together anymore. What I do is none of your concern.”

  “We were together for a long time, and I still care about you.”

  “If I tell you about Vito, you can’t tell anyone else. Is that clear?” she said, to get him to stop.

  Billy nodded and suddenly looked worried. She sat on the couch and he followed. She’d had the television on, with the news playing, and she used the remote to turn it off.

  “As you know, Vito married my mother when I was in high school.”

  “Yeah,” Billy said. “What are you about to tell me?”

  Camille motioned for him to be patient. Then she had a few misgivings. If she told Billy what Vito did, would Billy confront Vito? Would he try to harm him? After all, Billy could be quite unpredictable. So, she said, “If I tell you, you have to promise me that you won’t go crazy. Do you promise? Otherwise, I’m not telling you.”

  “I’m not sure if I can do that, Camille. What are you going to tell me? I’m getting concerned.”