Annie was stunned. ‘Why didn’t she tell me? I didn’t know about this abortion.’ A horrible thought struck her. ‘It wasn’t you, was it? You weren’t the father?’
Tom grinned. ‘No – some local boy. You were at university at the time. Don’t forget Jas has always been a bit in awe of you. She thinks of you as a remote, strange brain, not like everybody else.’
Annie was hurt. ‘Juliet and Howard could have told me, so I wouldn’t be tactless, upset her feelings …’
‘She didn’t have any,’ Tom assured her.
‘Why do you know all this?’ Annie challenged.
‘I was in the house at the time. I was working near Cottersley with old Bert Weatherall, learning woodcutting – the artistic kind, not sawing planks – Juliet and Howard put me up for three months because I was too much in debt, after France, to get a place of my own. That was when the storm over Jas broke. They were very upset, Juliet and Howard, of course. Jas was more angry than anything else. I believe it toughened her up. Mind you, be careful, the Fellowses don’t know anything about her early mistake.’
There was a silence. Annie asked, ‘Why didn’t you get in touch while you were in France? You’ve never told me. Why not? How long were you there?’
He had expected the question. He did not meet her eyes. ‘Nine months. Annie – don’t ask me.’
‘Oh, Tom,’ Annie groaned. ‘What happened?’
‘I’ll explain, one day,’ he said. ‘I expect.’
Annie said despondently, ‘I don’t understand.’ She gazed at him. She had loved that long, sallow face, his pale, gangling body, long boy’s back, tender shoulders. He’d hurt her badly by his disappearance, yet, even now, she couldn’t guess why he’d done it. He’d loved her. He’d never lost affection for her. She felt now he still did love her, in some ways. He got up and brought her another beer.
She drew a deep breath. ‘So,’ she asked, ‘what did you say when Jas turned up and put her unusual proposal to you?’
‘I told her I thought it was bloody stupid and dangerous. I said even if I found her irresistible I’d throw myself in a duckpond to keep her off me. I began to explain the principles of DNA testing to her, but it turned out she knew all about it. She’s not dim. She just said it was very unlikely the Fellowses would run a test on the baby. They’d be only too glad to have it.’
Annie considered. ‘It’s very stupid. They could adopt a baby, I suppose. It’s not as if Nigel’s the heir, anyway. Presumably it’s a son she wants. Supposing the baby’s a girl? Is she going to do it again? Supposing Nigel really knows it’s his fault they aren’t having a baby? Or finds out later? He might divorce her – she’d hate that.’
‘Jas says she imagines it isn’t the first time in four hundred unbroken years of the Fellows family that some woman hasn’t kept the line going on her own initiative.’
‘I don’t think she really wants a baby so much.’ Annie said.
‘Nor do I. Not really. She wants an heir. For Nigel. For his pride, and for the family in case Sim doesn’t turn up. The crux of it is that they’re all beginning to wonder if Sim is dead. Sir Bernard won’t hear of it. Sim turned up in Barbados, he says, with a black girl in tow a bit less than a year ago. They spent a few nights at his house there, then pushed off again. But though Lady Mary and Nigel aren’t saying so, Sim’s never been out of touch for so long. He’s never been around much, but he’s sent the odd letter or postcard and he’s drawn on his bank account in London, not a lot, but from time to time. He hasn’t got much, just a few thousand left by an aunt. But since Sir Bernard saw him last he hasn’t taken a penny out of the bank. That’s why they’re so worried. Myself – I just think he might have taken a job.’
The jukebox was playing ‘Leader of the Pack’. Tom took her hand across the table. ‘Annie,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been here to help during these last weeks.’
‘I knew you’d come eventually,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘Let’s go back to your house. Is the kid there – Melanie?’
‘Did you get the fox? She talks about it constantly.’
‘A brother and sister. It doesn’t go down well with the farmer next door.’
As they walked up Foxwell High Street Tom grinned at Annie and said, ‘Admit it, you never really got over me, did you?’ He added, ‘It’s going to be difficult with that girl eating chip butties in front of the TV.’
Annie didn’t argue about his assumption but replied, ‘She’s gone to a film with her friends.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Tom, taking her hand. He prevented any possible embarrassment for them when they got back to the house by taking all his clothes off as soon as they got in.
Annie, staring with surprise at his bare behind, asked, as he took his socks off in the hall, ‘Haven’t you got a girlfriend?’ She recalled that Julian had always been careful to remove his socks and shoes before undressing, knowing a naked man in socks and shoes looks ridiculous. Tom didn’t know, or care.
‘I haven’t got a girlfriend,’ he replied firmly. She led him past the living room and upstairs.
‘Well, I love you, Annie,’ he said, kissing her and pulling up her T-shirt at the back, ‘even if you do smell faintly of cooking fat.’
‘I love you, Tom,’ she said.
‘I was that embarrassed,’ Melanie said next morning, ‘when I came in with Chris and Viv and there were those horrible Y-fronts on the mat. I didn’t know where to put myself. We didn’t hardly dare come in, in case there was a naked man in the room. Viv screamed. I don’t know. I thought you had so much class, and now look. Who is it? Where is he? Upstairs?’
Annie was standing up in her dressing-gown drinking a cup of tea and drying her hair. Melanie had obviously abandoned a Saturday-morning lie-in when she heard water running in the bathroom and had sprung up to find out what was going on.
‘Tom, upstairs,’ Annie said awkwardly.
‘Him with the fox?’ asked Melanie.
‘Two, a brother and sister. It’s silly, really. They’ll have cubs when they’re older, then what?’
Melanie hesitated. ‘I suppose we could go and stay with him.’
‘Yes,’ Annie said. She opened the drier and pulled out clean trousers and a T-shirt. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry about your friends having a shock.’
‘It’ll be all over the school. It’s really embarrassing.’
Annie didn’t really think the news of Tom’s discarded clothes would create a major scandal among the resilient pupils at the Jasper Rayburn Comp.
‘I’ll tell them you’re engaged,’ Melanie decided.
Annie said, ‘Please yourself. When he wakes up can you tell him I’m at the café?’
‘Do I have to stay here, with him?’ Melanie said with alarm.
‘He won’t be here long. He’s coming down to do some painting in the Arcadia. Go to Vanessa’s if you like.’
She heard the television go on as she left the house and walked quickly down the road and into the High Street, uncertain of her feelings. She realised she’d thought that as long as there was no one else in her life her marriage wasn’t really over. She felt sad when she realised yet another point on the road to its real ending had been passed, yet knew she felt joyful, the sun was shining, and the bad dream of six months without Julian was nearly over. It had been an effort to leave the sleeping Tom to go and open up the café, and she was still tempted to turn round and go back.
Arnold was outside, waiting crossly with two stallholders from the market all dying for a cup of tea. Annie brushed off their complaints.
Vanessa came in at ten, pale, with circles under her eyes after a bad encounter with her mother and sister. Cherry had come over to their parents’ house in Leadham Common with the twins the previous afternoon. As the children played in the Davises’ well-tended big garden, Cherry had expressed grave doubts about the restaurant, Annie, Vanessa’s sudden conception of herself as a restaurant-owner and Geoff Doyle’s
attitude to all this. ‘I was relieved when my dad came in,’ Vanessa told Annie. ‘They stopped. And all the time my mum was pointing out how wonderful the twins were. It was as if Alec and Joanne didn’t count. It’s not fair, you know. Then Cherry’s husband turned up to collect her and had a few little jokes about the restaurant. Who needs it?’
At the end of a busy day as the council trucks were already coming down the market sweeping and cleaning, three large West Indian men in suits entered the café.
Vanessa spied them from the hatch and made a warning sound to Annie, who was at the counter.
‘We’re just closing,’ Annie said cheerfully. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘It’s business really,’ said the biggest man in the middle of the group. ‘I hear you’re the owners of a new restaurant starting next door.’
Vanessa, to Annie’s surprise, left the kitchen and stood in the doorway.
‘That’s right,’ said Annie. ‘Do you want to make a booking?’ She got the diary from a shelf behind her.
‘Not really,’ said the big man.
Vanessa moved behind the counter, beside Annie now, and asked, ‘Then what’s it about?’
The other men moved back, blocking the doorway. The man in the middle continued, ‘This is not a nice neighbourhood. Full of bad people, as you know. Most people round here like a little protection from getting broken into, having their windows broken, held up for the profits – all kinds of bad guys harassing them, that kind of thing …’ He paused to let his words sink in.
Annie could feel Vanessa trembling. But she answered steadily, ‘I know what you mean. We’ve been talking about that, haven’t we, Annie? We don’t want our clients disturbed by undesirable people hanging around while they’re eating, all that. You can understand that.’
‘Certainly do,’ he said.
Annie looked at his two henchmen in the doorway. They looked back at her. Vanessa was still talking very quickly. ‘So if there’s any way you could find us somebody to keep the situation under control, stand at the door and so forth, looking respectable but tough, you know the kind of thing, generally protecting the premises, keeping an eye on things, and that, well, we’d be very happy.’
‘There’d have to be a financial arrangement—’
‘Of course,’ Vanessa said. ‘Mr Campbell, isn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘We’re talking about round-the-clock protection,’ he said.
Annie could feel Vanessa shaking harder. She didn’t dare move past her towards the phone. She saw to her relief a van stop outside. Tom with Alec and Joanne. He looked into the café through the van window, Joanne just visible beside him. But he didn’t get out. He started up the van and drove past a rubbish-collecting truck. Annie was surprised, but Vanessa, who had also seen the van, was still talking. ‘Round-the-clock protection, sure, Mr Campbell. But we still need a guy on the door.’
He nodded, ‘We can arrange that for you.’
‘But somebody a bit civilised-looking. Nothing threatening. We don’t want to give the customers the impression they’re coming into a shebeen – I’m sure you understand me.’
Campbell nodded again. Vanessa swallowed. Her mouth must be dry, Annie thought. She took a deep breath and said, ‘Your fee will have to appear on our books.’ Vanessa tried to kick her and missed, but she felt the movement. She went on as calmly as she could, ‘We’d be able to pay you direct and rely on you to pay your …’ She didn’t know how to describe this situation. Sensing her difficulty Campbell said, ‘For the services of my associate you pay me three hundred pounds a week. He guards your premises. That way, you can be quite sure of peace of mind. You can run your business with no worries.’
‘That’s precisely what we want to do,’ said Annie, thinking three hundred pounds a week on top of everything would put strain on, if not actually ruin, the business. But by this stage she was so intimidated by the man in front of her that she wasn’t prepared to argue. She just wanted them to go away. ‘Well,’ she said, her voice coming out strangely, ‘then, good—’
‘I can’t see we have any problems, then,’ Vanessa said recovering. ‘We open next week, mid-week.’
‘All right,’ said one of the other men. ‘We’re in business. Evening, ladies.’
In the doorway the big man turned. ‘Ladies, I wish you all luck in your enterprise. Nice to see people raising standards in the area.’
‘Thank you,’ Vanessa replied.
The two women stood behind the counter, side by side, until they were sure the men were really gone. Annie’s knees were like jelly. ‘My God,’ she gasped, leaning on the counter, ‘I thought they were going to attack us. I’ve never been so frightened.’
Vanessa put an arm round her and helped her to a chair, which she took down from the top of a table.
‘Protection money,’ Annie groaned. She looked up at Vanessa. ‘Oh, God. Perhaps everyone’s right. We’re making a big mistake. Oh, Vanessa. What now?’
‘Well, we pay,’ said Vanessa. ‘Come on, Annie. It’s not such a big deal. I don’t like it. I almost fainted when Tom drew up, with Alec and Joanne.’
‘Yes,’ Annie replied with indignation. ‘Why didn’t he come in?’
Vanessa stared at her, ‘Because he’s got more bleeding sense than you have, I should think. That’s what frightened me.’
Tom came in carrying Alec and leading Joanne. His concerned eyes took in Annie, slumped on her chair, white as paper. He said to Vanessa, ‘What was that about?’
‘Just the local Mafia coming round for a donation to charity,’ responded Vanessa. Annie got up and went to the phone. ‘What are you doing?’ asked Vanessa.
‘No, Annie. No,’ said Tom.
‘I’m ringing the police,’ Annie said shakily. ‘They ought to be told this is going on.’
‘I expect they know already, Annie,’ Tom told her gently.
‘Know? They’ll be round for their cut, shouldn’t be surprised,’ Vanessa added.
‘The police tolerate blackmail?’ Annie demanded. No one replied. ‘What is it – a jungle?’
There was another silence, broken by Vanessa who shook her head as she said, ‘It’s like anything else, Annie. You’ve got to know the rules. I thought someone might turn up. When Arnold mentioned Andy Campbell, I guessed. A lot of the pubs round here pay him to stay away. Look – on the good side we’re getting a doorman. We may not like him, but he could be handy.’
‘A criminal on the premises,’ Annie pointed out. ‘And do you know how many more meals we’ll have to serve to pay that three hundred a week? Thirty or forty. How many tables have we got, even if we can fill them? Twelve, seating for forty. It’s a day’s profits washed out to pay those hooligans. What are we supposed to do? Open on Sundays or pass the blackmail costs on to the customer? There’s nothing on a tax form allowing for relief on protection money.’
‘Extra staff,’ Vanessa told her. ‘That’s what you call it. I’m sorry, Annie, but there isn’t anything else we can do at the moment.’
‘Do I understand we’re to submit to extortion and intimidation?’ Annie asked.
‘Yes, Annie,’ said Tom. ‘If you want to open on Thursday. The natural life of man is nasty, brutish and short. Come on, you need a drink. Let’s go to the Duke of Westminster. I’ll drop the children at Rutherford Street and meet you there.’
‘He’s not bad,’ Vanessa said consideringly of Tom as they watched him drive off with the children to leave them in Melanie’s care.
Annie, still shaking, muttered, ‘I wish I knew why he’d gone off the first time.’
10
Opening Night
It had been a hot day, but a late shower and the coming of darkness had cooled the market down. Abigail and Annabelle had been in the kitchen at the Arcadia all day, chopping, cutting, whipping, mixing and stirring food while Annie, Vanessa and Melanie popped in from George’s to stand entranced in the kitchen doorway.
They were excited at the elegance of the resta
urant. Two big plate-glass windows balanced a smart wooden door. In a frenzy of creativity, Tom had made and attached to the door a big wooden oval on which he’d carved a scene showing trees, a fountain, some sheep, a lamb, a shepherd and a shepherdess embraced. Tucked behind a bush, Pan peeped out, a wicked smile on his face. A flock of birds flew overhead in their wooden sky, full of wooden clouds. He’d been carving in Annie’s small garden for days, after driving down to his workshop for his tools.
He’d been congratulated by everyone from Annie’s mother, in London to talk to the gallery owner who was mounting her exhibition, to Edward, the bouncer, a huge, young black man, with biceps like grapefruit who commented, ‘A work of art, man. Work of art.’
Tom was pleased. But earlier Vanessa had spotted Juliet, looking uncomfortable in a suit, giving Tom an odd look on the pavement; and heard Tom say impatiently, ‘For Christ’s sake, Juliet …’ Vanessa thought the exchange was about something serious. Would it harm Annie, who, Vanessa thought, was falling in love with Tom, or perhaps had never fallen out of love with him?
Just beyond the coathooks inside the restaurant door was the till, mostly behind stout bullet-proof glass, the result of a suggestion from their extortionist Andy Campbell. As Vanessa said, he didn’t want strangers coming along to rob them – he wanted them all to himself. Along the wall beside the till were two banquettes, capable of seating six, with backs ensuring privacy. Further down the restaurant were six tables. On the raised part of the restaurant, up a small wooden step, were more tables, seating two people each. Two more were in alcoves where couples who didn’t want to see, or possibly be seen, could sit. The restaurant was panelled in dark wood, tables and chairs were in lighter wood. The tablecloths were white and red, and had small vases of roses on them. Everything gleamed.
In Search of Love, Money & Revenge Page 15