‘Take your friend, your cases and get out tonight.’
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. ‘Has... Has Linda been talking about me?’
‘Please, just leave, both of you — and for God’s sake put something on.’
Bella slowly picked herself up and wrapped the towel round her.
‘Is that all you’re going to say? Just like that?’ She went to take his arm, but he jerked it away, still looking at her as if she was a piece of dirt.
His voice was very quiet, and full of pain. ‘I wanted you for my wife.’ For a moment his expression softened, and he looked almost bewildered. Then as quickly as it had gone, the hardness returned. ‘You... you don’t belong here anymore. I want you to go.’
‘What did she tell you?’ Bella almost screamed, her pain making her voice sound angry and spiteful. ‘What did she tell you?’
He said nothing, just looked at her with that stony gaze.
She spat out, ‘I don’t belong to anyone!’
He shrugged and walked into the bathroom. ‘Then you won’t mind leaving, will you?’ he said over his shoulder, and closed the door in her face.
Bella banged on the door. ‘Is that it? Is that all you’ve got to say?’
His answer was the loud click of the key turning in the lock.
Jimmy Glazier’s bathroom was very different from José Camarana’s — peeling paint, broken tiles, cracked loo seat, and a rusty shower with pink curtains half hanging off. Harry stood under the cold spray, having given up trying to get the water even a little warm. He swished the curtain back and it almost fell off its rail, as Jimmy banged on the door and pushed it open.
‘Right, my old son, one-a passaporta, an-a one-a ticket. Get a move on if you wanna make that plane!’
Harry waved for him to pass a towel. Jimmy glanced admiringly at Harry’s physique. He was still fit and muscular — very different from the flabby, paunchy Jimmy. He handed Harry the towel, then looked away, a bit embarrassed.
Harry wrapped the towel round his hips, picked up a razor and jerked his head toward the tub. ‘Ever taken a shower, Jimmy? Maybe ’bout time you tried one.’
Jimmy laughed. ‘Eh, do me a favor, they got nasty little thingies in the water here.’
Harry smiled and began to shave.
Jimmy walked into the scruffy kitchen. Maria was ironing Harry’s suit with a sullen expression on her face. The magazine was gone. He went into Harry’s bedroom and started poking round. He was just about to have a look in the holdall when Harry came in behind him.
‘Where’s that magazine?’ Jimmy asked.
Harry smiled again. ‘I’m gonna need something to read on the plane, aren’t I?’
Jimmy beamed. ‘So that means you’re interested, then?’
Harry shrugged. ‘Maybe. Tell you what, get hold of Tesco and tell him to pick me up at the airport. See if he can find me a place to stay an’ all.’
Jimmy couldn’t contain his excitement.
‘Right away, Harry. Anything you say, Harry.’
‘Good lad,’ Harry said. ‘And tell that wife of yours to get a move on with the suit.’
Jimmy scuttled off, almost bowing as he went. Maria was just putting the finishing touches to the suit when he went up behind her, put his arms round her and gave her a hug, singing, ‘We’re in the money, we’re in the money...’
She turned round with a smile — the first Jimmy had seen in weeks — to put her arms around him and he squeezed her harder. This is more like it, he thought. Then he caught sight of the iron over her shoulder and smelt burning.
‘Christ almighty, you stupid bitch! Now look what you’ve done!’
Dolly had to bend almost double to drag the rucksacks beneath the drill hall stage. The place was filthy with dust and grime, there were heaps of music stands, old curtains, bits of scenery, musical instruments, clowns’ costumes — anything and everything had been stashed beneath the stage for what looked like the last two hundred years. Dolly was covered in dust, two nails broken. She had just managed to push the third rucksack to the very back, and was heaping boxes and old curtains round it, when she heard the sound of clumping feet — not just one set of feet, but a whole horde of them — thudding across the stage above her head.
She heard a voice say, ‘Right, everybody, come along now, line up. Quietly, please!’
Oh, God, she thought. Now what?
The scoutmaster bellowed and screamed orders as more feet thudded across the stage, and as every little foot banged down, showers of dust fell on Dolly’s head and all over her clothes, and she thought, Christ, how long am I going to have to stay here?
Then a whistle blew, followed by a strange bellowing and screeching, as if a load of farm animals had just been let out onto the stage, and she realized what she was in for — a band rehearsal. Dolly remained crouched uncomfortably in the darkness as the boys struck up a discordant rendering of ‘When the Saints Go Marching In.’
Bella marched into Linda’s room and banged the cases down. She ripped the bedclothes off and Linda shot up, a frightened look on her face.
‘Well, you won, Linda. Don’t know what you told him about me, but he’s kicking us out. So get up — now!’ She picked something up from the table. ‘This your passport?’
‘Wh-what’s going on?’ Linda was still dopey from sleep.
Bella started searching through the drawers. ‘We’re leaving now, so get moving!’ Bella put Linda’s passport in her own bag, along with the tickets, then flung open the fitted wardrobes, took out Linda’s case and began throwing clothes into it.
Linda scrambled out of bed. ‘What’s happened, Bella?’
‘The police think they’ve found him.’
Linda grabbed her arm. ‘Rawlins? They’ve got Rawlins?’
Bella shrugged her off. ‘No, you idiot, the taxi driver. Now get dressed! The plane leaves in three-quarters of an hour; we’ll just make it if you bloody move yourself.’
Linda stumbled round the room, not sure where to start, what to do next.
Bella turned on her and grabbed her wrist viciously. ‘I tell you, Linda, if Harry Rawlins has laid so much as a finger on my money, I’ll kill ’im, so help me God I’ll kill ’im!’
Linda whimpered. She’d never seen Bella so angry, her face contorted with rage. Bella let go of Linda’s wrist, picked up her two suitcases and kicked her way out of the door. As she bumped her way awkwardly down the stairs, José emerged from his room, dressed formally in an elegant suit.
He leaned over the banister. ‘I’ve arranged for the car.’
Bella didn’t even turn. ‘That won’t be necessary, I’ll call a taxi.’
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, José’s chauffeur opened the front door, and at a nod from José, picked up Bella’s cases. She turned and began to walk back up the stairs. Midway she stopped, twisting the diamond ring off her finger.
Without looking at José, she said, ‘I almost forgot, you’ll want this back.’
He walked down to meet her. ‘Keep it,’ he said quietly.
‘Fair enough. I’m usually paid cash, but this will do nicely.’ She brushed past him without meeting his eyes.
Linda stood on the landing, clutching a beach bag bulging with clothes, along with a suitcase. Bella grabbed the case from her and started back down the stairs. Shaking, Linda held on to the banister. Linda gave José a weak smile, and he gave her his arm to help her down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Bella yanked Linda roughly out of his grasp.
‘We can manage, thank you!’