by Edie Baylis
She smiled at the waitress who took her order for a nice bottle of house wine. She was going to treat herself even though she realised she’d shot herself in the foot somewhat.
Barry had clearly clocked she’d recognised Charlie, but hadn’t yet asked her why and how she knew him. She knew it was unlikely she’d get out of here without being interrogated and she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that yet. If they knew she’d been involved with Ernie - and how else was she going to explain how she’d met Charlie - then the chances of her getting a job here was ruined. Bollocks.
As for Charlie, if he questioned why she was at the Glint, well she didn’t give a flying fuck. It was more likely he hadn’t even noticed her and if he had, well she’d think of a suitable blag. She wasn’t ready to fuck him off yet without screwing his life up.
Eliza poured herself a glass of wine and sighed contentedly as the ice cold liquid ran down her throat. She took in the luxurious décor of the Glint and smiled. There was no way she was going to miss out on working in a gaff like this for anyone.
Seeing Chantal confidently strut onto centre stage, Eliza smiled. She’d work out what she was going to do next whilst she enjoyed the show.
TWENTY NINE
BILL LEANED BACK IN his office chair and ran his hand through his silver-streaked hair. A soft smile played in the corner of his mouth.
The meeting he’d had with his brief had been interesting, but nothing he hadn’t expected. He’d known to get rid of his wife he’d have to give her a substantial payoff, but that was before he’d had the foresight to put a trail on her and he’d been genuinely surprised at how quickly it had turned up the goods.
If he hadn’t been able to dish some dirt on the thick bimbo he’d have to give her a shed load. Not that he was particularly fazed about that, as any amount of money would have been worth it if it meant he could have Sheila to himself, all above board and out in the open, but he knew Teresa would be pushing for at least fifty percent of his assets. He didn’t have anywhere near enough capital to give her a payoff of that amount, so he’d have to finance against his clubs, of which he wasn’t over enamoured about doing.
She would have had a field day when he told her he was leaving her and even more so when she found out he’d got Sheila lined up. She’d take him for fucking everything and he wasn’t having it. She didn’t even deserve a tenth of what he was willing to sling her way, let alone what she’d want when she found out about Sheila.
Bill chuckled out loud as he removed the glass stopper from the top of his decanter. It couldn’t have turned out any better and he’d enjoy watching Teresa’s face when he hit her with what he’d got.
He pulled the photographs from the brown envelope once more and smiled widely. There was his wife, legs splayed and her arms around the neck of a nubile young man conveniently positioned between her thighs.
She was the one fucking behind his back, so now he could divorce her on that preface alone. He couldn’t have set it up more perfectly himself.
Bill poured a large shot of brandy into his glass and downed it, smacking his lips together in appreciation. He was taking Teresa to dinner tonight and there he’d serve her with the divorce papers along with the photographic evidence. He’d enjoy watching the expressions pass over her plastic face.
Pouring himself another measure, he smiled once again. He wasn’t angry about the stupid bitch’s infidelity. Not even slightly because to everyone else, he’d be the wronged party and fully justified in getting rid of her.
It also meant Teresa would be entitled to a much reduced part of his assets. To all and sundry the amount he’d be giving her would be deemed as generous and show only what a nice bloke he was. He’d get the silly slag to sign the papers tonight. That would be his condition if she wanted even one penny out of him.
Flicking through his contacts on the desk-top organiser, Bill stopped at the number for an out of town hotel. He picked up the receiver. He’d book a room for Teresa and make sure after dinner tonight she’d be getting the fuck out of his house. He’d pick up the tab for the room, but after that she was well and truly on her own.
SHEILA SMILED AT MARIE as she poured her a glass of wine. She really had clicked with this woman and felt like she’d known her for years. She was also happy Bill had agreed to finally bring her up to speed.
Jane laughed and flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “Oh Sheila, you never remember do you! I hate bloody wine!”
“Oh bugger!” Sheila smiled. “Brain like a sieve.” She necked the wine and poured a large measure of vodka into a tumbler. “You wait till you get to my age, love – you’ll understand what I mean then!”
“Don’t give me that! What’s going on, Sheila?” Jane cocked her eyebrow inquisitively.
Sheila smiled shyly. She’d tell Marie the whole story. She’d kept it under wraps for so long and now it was all finally happening. Her smile fell. But was it? Would Bill actually go through with it and leave Teresa? She knew he stood to lose a shed load and she didn’t want to be the reason for him losing half of his empire.
Her eyebrows knitted together. She’d never trusted a man to deliver before, which had been a good job because they never did. Apart from Bill. He’d always done what he’d said. He was different and she knew in her heart he was speaking the truth. Therefore she’d finally decided she owed it to herself to be happy, truly happy for once and Bill was the only one her heart had ever belonged to.
Jane listened carefully whilst Sheila told her the long and complicated story. She couldn’t say she was surprised. In the short time she’d known them both the chemistry between them was obvious. She just hadn’t realised their story had spanned so many years.
“So your grandkids are also Bill’s?” Jane asked and smiled seeing Sheila nod, her face alight with excitement. Against her will a lump formed in the back of her throat. Why couldn’t it have been like that for her?
The smile fell from Sheila’s face. “What’s wrong? Do you think badly of me, Marie?”
Jane shook her head quickly, trying to maintain her composure. “God, no! Of course I don’t! I’m really pleased for you. It’s a lovely story.”
Sheila wasn’t convinced. “Then what’s wrong? You might as well tell me.”
Jane stared at her hands, noticing her fingers were trembling slightly. She wanted to tell Sheila. Wanted to tell her everything. Perhaps even needed to. But she couldn’t could she? She’d kept it all to herself for far too long. Besides if she knew the full story it would ruin everything.
Sheila placed her hand gently over Marie’s. “Love, you can tell me you know. Whatever it is. You know anything you say is safe with me.”
Jane looked up, a trace of a smile on her lips. “I know Sheel.” It was true. She knew she could trust Sheila. She just didn’t know whether she could utter his name out loud.
Sheila topped up Marie’s glass, almost to the brim. “You’re not pregnant are you?”
Jane shook her head and laughed. “No!” There was no chance of that. She was always careful. No man would ever be more than a one-off again, or perhaps twice if she felt generous. She had no room, nor want for relationships because they were too dangerous. But then even one-offs could go wrong. Look at Ben.
She’d seen him in the club the other night scanning around, looking for her. She’d no idea how he’d found out she worked here, but wasn’t happy about it. Luckily when she checked later, he’d been kicked out for trying to paw the strippers. She’d have a word with Barry and make sure he didn’t get let in again. The last thing she wanted was him hassling her, or any of the girls.
Sheila nudged Marie. “Well?”
Jane necked her glass of vodka and held it out for a refill. “I don’t do relationships.”
Sheila raised an eyebrow. “Ok. Why’s that? Bad experience? You don’t look the sort of girl who’d be a doormat.”
Jane sighed. “What you were saying about Bill.” She stared into her glass. “I felt like that a
bout someone once. A long time ago. He was my everything, but things didn’t work out.”
Sheila sat back in her chair. “Why do I get the feeling it’s complicated? What happened?”
“Long story.... Let’s just say we were very similar. Too similar and things got, well shall we say, screwed up.”
Jane looked wistful. She could see Seth in her mind as clear as if it were yesterday. His face was indelibly ingrained in her memory and was the first and last thing she’d thought about every day since the first time she’d seen him. And it still was.
Mentally ridding herself of Seth’s image before it risked consuming her mind and cause her to lose her composure, Jane attempted to close the subject. “It was a long time ago, Sheila. Five years in fact.”
Five years, two months, nine hours, four minutes and thirty-three seconds to be precise.
“Together a long time?”
“Long enough...”
Sheila nodded. “No children obviously.”
Jane smiled and held up her glass. She needed to get off this subject. “I could do with a top up.”
“Steady on girl. You’ll be wasted at this rate.” Sheila laughed, grabbing the vodka. She sensed she wouldn’t get anything further. “Listen, five years apart isn’t that long. Look at me and Bill. Now that takes some beating! If it’s meant to be, he’ll find a way back to you.”
Jane glared at the vodka as it filled up the tumbler and swallowed down the anger building from deep inside. “He’ll have a job. He’s dead.”
ERNIE STILL HADN’T calmed down. His rage had been eating away at him like a festering sore since he’d taken the call from a hysterical tart at Crystals saying Brian was dead.
His body had been dumped on the stairs to the front of the club and left there in plain sight. No one had seen who’d dumped it, but it didn’t matter. There was only one person who it could have been.
Ernie had gone personally to Brian’s place to break the news to his wife. That meant of course he’d be paying her off for the foreseeable future, if not forever.
He scowled and lit a fat cigar. He’d also spent hours trying to get hold of Charlie to no avail. The only logical explanation was that he was being held somewhere against his will and tortured for information.
Ernie ground his teeth together. Charlie hadn’t been topped because there was no doubt he’d have heard about it. No, they still had him somewhere.
He’d already put his scouts out to dig in the most obvious places, but that had turned up jack shit. Oh, he knew the game Benson was playing. He’d wait a while and then one of his cronies would turn up demanding something for Charlie’s safe return.
Ernie was fucked if he’d wait for that though. He glanced at Matt and Pete eyeing him warily from the other side of his lounge. They’d be going out again tomorrow to look fucking harder.
Charlie however, was a good boy. In the short time he’d been on the firm he’d done well. In fact, he’d go as far as to say he was a rare diamond - going above and beyond to do things. He deserved their loyalty and Ernie was determined to make sure he got it.
THIRTY
ELIZA WAS FEELING MUCH more relaxed once she’d managed to drink several flutes of champagne. The lines of pure Columbian she and Chantal had hoovered up in the club’s toilets had gone down nicely too.
Her eyes wandered up Chantal’s shapely legs as she perched on the velvet stool next to her and winked teasingly. Eliza slightly blushed and smiled. She was feeling a lot better about everything and the prospect of seeing Charlie tonight was feeling a lot less stressful. Besides, what choice did she have?
She fingered the slip of paper in her pocket with the address on. At least Chantal had agreed to come with her. She didn’t even know where the place he was staying at was.
Picking up the thin-stemmed champagne flute, Eliza necked the remains and with a nod, summoned the waitress for another bottle on ice. Things hadn’t turned out too badly considering and if she pulled this off, she was guaranteed a job here which was definitely what she wanted.
After being spotted shouting Charlie’s name the other night, she’d known she’d have to think very quickly and carefully when the doorman called her out from the club. She’d scuttled after him and allowed him to usher her into a small quiet office off from the club’s lobby. When Barry had begun grilling her about Charlie, she figured she’d no choice but to come clean. These people were on a different level to Ernie Carter and his crew. This lot weren’t stupid and wouldn’t be lied to, that much was clear.
She’d been nervous whilst she’d explained how she’d been Ernie Carter’s missus. However, she’d done a superb job dramatizing her version of what Ernie had done to her, but slightly changing the reason he’d turned on her in the first place. Her story had been that once she’d discovered Ernie’s two-faced behaviour to Mr Benson, she’d found out Charlie was working for him to set Ernie up, so she’d made the decision to jump ship.
Ok, so that had nothing to do with it and she didn’t give a fuck who did what and to whom, but she wasn’t about to tell Barry that.
Confident in her ability to ramp up the yarn further, Eliza had continued, making sure she made it clear she was done with Charlie too. After promising she wouldn’t breathe a word about anything and all she wanted was a job at the Glint, Barry had instructed her not to move until he’d returned.
Admittedly Eliza had been nervous and it felt like she’d waited a thousand years. She’d almost jumped out of her skin when Barry had returned to the room, his huge bulk dwarfing the small space. He’d sat down opposite her, folded his arms and waited a few moments before speaking.
She’d attempted to lean forward seductively, ensuring her cleavage was perfectly within his line of sight, but he’d been immune. His unmoving gaze hadn’t marginally diverted from her face and it had rapidly sunk into her brain that she’d have to take whatever he’d offered.
“Mr Benson said if you want a job here you need to get back on side with Charlie,” Brian had said. “We need him just a little bit longer.”
Eliza had nodded. That had been ok. She’d been planning to play him a bit longer anyway.
“Then when we tell you to, you’ll serve Charlie up to Carter.”
“To Ernie?” Eliza had screeched. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”
Barry had leant forward against the table. His steely gaze had made it clear there was no room for manoeuvre. “You’ll think of something. Something that works.”
Eliza had swallowed nervously and resisted the urge to desperately pick at her nails.
“Get Carter back on side,” Barry had growled. “You don’t need to know why. Concentrate on making sure Charlie suspects nothing and then make it your second priority to make friends with Carter again.”
Eliza had felt sick. Did she want the job that much?
Almost reading her thoughts, Barry had smiled. A cold, very knowing smile. “To put it simply, the job is a mere incentive to help you along so to speak. Of course if you choose not to help us, then you’ll be dealt with in the same manner as Charlie is going to be.”
Eliza wasn’t sure how Charlie was going to be dealt with, but presumed it wasn’t going to be something she’d pick. She’d almost laughed from nerves, but managed to stop herself and instead swallowed down whatever had been constricting her throat.
“But I was told I’d need to speak to someone called Marie about a job?” Eliza had garbled, knowing whatever she’d said was pointless.
“You don’t need to speak to anyone apart from me, Charlie and Carter. The job is yours when you deliver. In the meantime, don’t attract attention to yourself. Once you’ve done what you’ve been told, I’ll get a message over as to what’s required next.”
Eliza had stared at Barry blankly.
“Is there anything else?” he’d asked gruffly and raised his towering frame from the chair.
Realising she’d been dismissed and that she was now in it up to her neck, Eliza had hurrie
dly shook her head, grabbed her handbag and shakily disappeared into the night.
“C’mon babe,” Chantal said suddenly, lightly resting her hand on Eliza’s thigh. “We’d best get going to see Charlie hadn’t we?”
Reluctantly Eliza pulled herself unsteadily to her feet.
CHARLIE WAS STILL MORE than cross. Sitting in the armchair, he stared aimlessly at the television. He couldn’t even work out what he’d been watching. All he knew was he’d been staring at it for what seemed like months whilst he’d been cooped up at Dan’s bloody place.
He ran his hand over his bruised face and winced as he rearranged himself painfully, sure every rib was cracked. Slight pasting my arse, he thought angrily. Jim had been far more heavy-handed than needed and it had pissed him off. In fact, it had really pissed him off. What was the fucking fag thing about as well, the psycho bastard?
There had been no need and there had even less need to kill Brian. Poor bloke. Did Jim have no morals?
Ok, from the small bit Charlie had garnered about the guy, he realised there was much more to Jim than he made out. He’d been so cold-blooded about this whole thing and even though he hated to admit it, the man worried him.
He absentmindedly wiped the thin film of sweat away from his brow and tried to concentrate on whatever was on the box, but failed again. Two days now he’d been stuck here. Bill’s orders and all part of the plan to wind up Carter.
With difficulty Charlie pulled a half-crushed packet of cigarettes from his jeans pocket and lit one. Wincing, he grabbed his glass of rum from the table. Trying to focus on the television screen he realised he’d had far too much already, but at least it was numbing the pain a little. Besides, he needed to be brought up to speed about what was going on. Did Bill want him to go back to Carter’s and set something up or what? He needed to know.
“All in good time,” Jim had said. Since when did he have to take orders from him?