Dexter kept his arm around her shoulder as they headed into the road and hailed a taxi to take them to her flat.
‘Well, that was certainly some event,’ he said, casually.
‘Yes, I won’t forget it for a long time… I still can’t believe it all happened.’
‘Without you, Jane Tennison, it wouldn’t have been nearly as exciting, never mind conclusive.’
‘It was exactly as you told me… you know, remembering him from Covent Garden. When I did recognise him, I just froze.’
Dexter stared out of the window and said quietly that he didn’t want to talk about it. He sat slightly apart from her as she tried to think of something to say to him.
‘That was so nice of you to give Stanley your raffle prize.’
‘It was all down to Crowley fixing it for me to win… He’s an odd man… doesn’t know how to look you in the face and show you his appreciation, but basically he’s an all right old so-and-so.’
‘He told me tonight that he would look after me… He wants to see me in his office tomorrow.’
‘You should get a commendation for what you’ve brought to the table, never mind what you were subjected to by that two-faced bitch. She’ll be under tough interrogation… But when she finds out her bomber pal is mincemeat she might crack and give details about their cell, and name other IRA members.’
‘You don’t think it will go against me that I was so taken in by her?’
Dexter shrugged, not wanting to say that it very well could be an issue. Instead he pulled his wallet out of his jacket and took out some money to pay for the taxi. They drew up outside her flat and Jane unlocked the main front door, hitching up her long skirt to walk up the stairs as Dexter followed behind her.
On entering her flat she switched on the hall lights and tossed her evening bag onto the breakfast bar in her kitchen.
‘Would you like a coffee or anything?’
‘No thanks, nothing… unless you have any brandy?’
‘I’m afraid not…’
‘That’s OK… Let’s get you out of that dress.’
They went into her bedroom, which was still untidy from the search for her necklace. Jane quickly replaced the cushions on the bed and rearranged the valance where Stanley had lifted it and found the detonator underneath.
‘Stanley had to hide in the wardrobe in Pearl’s old room. Natalie really sent shock waves when she rang the doorbell.’
‘I’d say our pal Stanley has probably done a lot of nipping into wardrobes when taken by surprise!’ He laughed.
Dexter took Jane by her shoulders and slowly turned her around so that her back was facing him. He began undoing the tiny buttons, and as he did so he bent his head and kissed her bare back, loosening one button after another.
‘My God, these are fiddly! Some of the buttonholes are really tight.’
By the time he had undone them, the top of her dress had slipped down, revealing her black strapless bra. She caught it in her hands, embarrassed.
‘Well, that was a job well done!’
‘Thank you…’
Dexter sat on the edge of her bed as she stood in front of him wanting, more than anything, for him to take her in his arms.
‘I need to be straight with you, Jane… I think you’re sweet, and sexy, and I would like to stay here with you all night. I think that’s what you want as well. I could be wrong, and maybe that’s my ego talking, but, like I just said, I want to be straight with you. I really like you, but if I sleep with you tonight it will be harder for you to understand that that is all it would be. I don’t want a relationship.’
‘I understand,’ Jane said, close to tears.
Dexter stood up and cradled her in his arms. ‘No… don’t say that… don’t make it any harder. I’m going to go, Jane.’
Dexter held her at arm’s length and looked at her through what suddenly seemed like cruel blue eyes.
‘You don’t understand Jane… I need to get fucked tonight… fucked rigid… because it’s the only way I’m going to release all the pent-up shit inside me. And I’m not going to use you for that, because you are worth far more.’
Dexter walked out of her bedroom, and Jane slumped down on her bed as she heard the front door close behind him. She felt as if her heart was breaking as she reached for his faded James Dean T-shirt and held it to her face.
Dexter lit a cigar as he stepped into the phone box. He took some change from his pocket and dialled a number, waiting for it to be picked up. It was after midnight but he knew she would be up. Her husky, laconic, bedroom voice answered.
‘Pauline, it’s me.’
‘You’re lucky I got a good memory for voices, Dex. You think all my clients say “it’s me” and expect me to know who it is? What you want?’
‘Two of your best. Send them over in about half an hour, all right?’
‘Cab fare on top, darlin’…’
‘Yeah, OK.’
Dexter hung up and stared at his reflection in the small square mirror above the phone. He looked haunted and there were deep circles beneath his pale blue eyes. The incredible adrenaline he had felt that night had left him mentally exhausted and now he needed to feel the same way physically. Pauline’s girls would ensure that, and when they left him he would sleep.
Jane was surprised that she was able to switch off, and when her alarm clock rang in the morning she could hardly believe she had slept so deeply. Her dress was still on the bedroom floor where she had stepped out of it, and there was a trail of underwear from the bedroom to the bathroom.
She pulled on her old towelling dressing gown and went into the kitchen to make herself some eggs and bacon. She was ravenously hungry.
By the time she had tidied her bedroom, showered and dressed, it was almost nine o’clock. The phone rang in the hallway.
‘Hi there… it’s Michael. Are you still free tonight? I was wondering if you’d like to see a movie and then maybe have dinner?
‘You know, I would really like that.’
‘Great! Do you want to leave me to choose which film, or do you have one you’d like to see?’
‘No, you choose.’
‘Done. Let me pick you up at around seven… does that suit?’
‘Yes, that’s perfect.’
‘See you later. Is everything all right with you?’
‘Yes, Michael, everything’s fine… I’m really looking forward to seeing you.’
Jane replaced the receiver and rested her hand on the telephone. Michael was very different from Dexter. He was nice and dependable, and obviously cared for her. Deep down she was certain that Dexter cared too, and that was the reason he had walked away. She caught sight of his T-shirt on the floor next to her bed, where she had thrown it down last night.
Picking it up, she put it in the wastebin.
Author’s Note
During 1974 and 1975 London was subjected to a terrifying bombing campaign carried out by Active Service Units (ASU) of the Irish Republican Army (IRA). Over forty bombs exploded, thirty-five people were killed and many were seriously injured. In one day alone the IRA planted seven bombs at locations across central London. Some were defused, some were not.
On 6 December 1975, four armed members of the ASU took two elderly Balcombe Street residents hostage after a botched machine-gun attack on a Mayfair restaurant. A tense stand-off with the Metropolitan Police Bomb Squad ensued, but after six days the siege ended when the IRA men surrendered and released the hostages.
After several days of intense interrogation, the ‘Balcombe Street Gang’ were charged and remanded in custody to stand trial for multiple bombings and murders. The press portrayed the arrests as a major victory for the Met’s Bomb Squad.
It was the lull before the storm. The bomb squad received information that another ASU had come to London. Both police and the public lived in fear: where and when would the IRA strike, and could they be stopped in time?