Dolly felt Linda’s hand on her arm.
‘When this is all over, when the money’s sorted and everything, will you...?’
Linda was finding it difficult to tell Dolly what she felt, what she wanted. But eventually it all burst out.
‘I’m no good on my own; I never was. I mean, I should be, ’cos that’s all I’ve ever been, really, on me own, apart from Joe. But Dolly, will you stay with me? I don’t know what to do with the money — I need help. I’ll even give you my share to look after!’
To cover her own emotions, Dolly turned the hot water on. ‘Oh, come on, you don’t want an old woman like me hanging round you!’
‘You’re not old, Dolly! You’re so strong — you never seem to worry about anything.’
Dolly laughed, shaking her head as she turned the water off. ‘Never worry? Oh, Linda, if only you knew!’
Linda suddenly felt protective. She slipped her arm round Dolly. ‘I’m gonna take care of you, Dolly. After tonight, it’s all going to be over. An’ then, well, we’ll be together, you an’ me. Is that a deal?’
Dolly hugged her. She realized that for all these months she’d had no real human contact — no hugs, no kisses — and she held on tight, not wanting to let go.
‘It’s a deal, darling,’ she said eventually, and Linda beamed at her, bright as a button.
‘Be like ’aving a mum!’
Bella’s voice cut through the air like a knife. ‘This a private conversation or can anyone join in?’
Linda and Dolly broke apart, a little embarrassed. Dolly picked up the dishcloth and chucked it to Linda. ‘Come on, get cracking!’
Bella hovered at the doorway for a moment, then said to Linda, ‘There’s some cups out by the telephone you could wash up.’
Linda meekly walked out of the kitchen to pick up the dirty crockery. Dolly continued to wash, placing each bit of crockery carefully on the draining board. Without looking at Bella, she said, ‘You lay off her, Bella, you hear me?’
Bella picked up the dishcloth and started drying. ‘Me? What have I done?’
Dolly scrubbed at a cup furiously. ‘She swears she never told that feller of yours anything, so just let it drop!’
Bella dropped one of the plates she’d been drying with a crash. ‘Oh, shit! That’s one of Shirley’s best.’
Dolly took off the rubber gloves and started to pick up the pieces.
Bella watched her. ‘I don’t mean half the things I say to Linda, I don’t, it’s just... I don’t know what gets into me, Dolly. But she’s changed — you don’t realize how much.’
‘Maybe she has changed, Bella. Maybe we all have in some way. Now go on, go and give her a hand.’
Bella gave her a little smile and went out. Dolly opened the bin. It was full of broken cups and saucers.
By the time Micky led her into Marion Gordon’s outer office, Shirley’s confidence was sky-high. He seemed to know the secretary very well, chatting easily with her, and then asked for the ladies’ room so that Shirley could go and freshen up. It was this thoughtfulness that Shirley liked, and all the time he kept encouraging her, telling her not to be nervous, that she was beautiful and there was no way Marion Gordon was going to turn her down. This was going to be her big break. He even took her to the ladies’ himself, opened the door and found the light switch for her.
‘Just put a comb through your hair, darlin’. Don’t put any make-up on — you look lovely as you are. And Shirley, smile! Come on, give us a smile!’
Shirley smiled back at him, then took a brush and comb out of her handbag and looked at herself in the mirror.
Micky stood at Suzy, the secretary’s, desk, his manner subtly different. ‘I’ll go on in, then.’
Suzy leaned back in her chair. ‘You are naughty, you know, Micky. She’s very busy.’
Micky leant over the desk and stroked her cheek. ‘So am I, my darlin’, so am I.’
He strode into Marion’s office without knocking. There wasn’t even time for Suzy to bleep her boss and warn her that he was coming in.
Marion sat behind her desk. The whole office seemed to gleam: white carpet, a white canvas director’s chair, white walls that were covered with photos of models, from magazines and commercials.
Micky leaned casually on the door, while Marion flicked the switch on the intercom and told her secretary to hold all her calls.
She was in her mid-forties and still looked good. She was a beautiful woman, but a face-job had probably helped.
She pushed her tortoiseshell glasses back on her head and frowned. ‘What do you want, Micky?’
He sauntered across the white carpet and sat in the director’s chair. He seemed harder, sharper, than when he’d been with Shirley.
‘I haven’t got much time, Micky. I’m a busy woman.’
‘It wasn’t always like that, was it, Marion? Once upon a time you had plenty of time for me.’
‘Times have changed, Micky. What do you want?’
Shirley came out of the ladies’ room and Suzy looked her up and down. Quite nice, she thought. Natural. But she seemed nervous.
Shirley looked round for Micky.
‘He’s with Marion. Would you like a coffee?’
‘Yes, thank you very much.’
From the small kitchen, Suzy watched Shirley walk round the office, looking at the photographs. She was really raw, this one. She wondered where Micky had found her.
In Marion’s inner sanctum, the atmosphere was getting heated. Marion stood up from behind her desk.
‘You heard what I said: no. I’m a good agent, darlin’, but I can’t just take anybody on, especially with no experience. What d’you take me for?’
Micky just smiled. ‘Legit now, are you? Straight?’ The old Cockney accent was creeping back in. He got up and walked round to her. ‘Nice office, sweetheart, but who’re you kiddin’? You think the Sundays wouldn’t relish a nice tip-off, eh? How many girls have you got on the game nowadays?’
Marion turned to him. ‘Give me a break, Micky. That’s all in the past. I’m a legit models’ agent now — I’m not into anything else. Why don’t you leave me alone?’
‘I’m only askin’, Marion, darlin’. She’s a lovely girl — why don’t you just look ’er over?’
Marion resisted the urge to slap him. She went back to her desk and opened a large leather-bound diary. ‘All right, Micky, I’ll see ’er. But I’m not agreeing to take her on. Knowing your taste in women, she’s probably a right little scrubber.’ She turned a page in the diary, but Micky snapped it shut, catching her long, red fingernails. She withdrew her hand quickly. ‘All right, Micky, I’ll see her next week.’
‘No, darlin’, you’ll see her now. And what’s more, you’ll take her on.’
Marion sat back. Micky Tesco frightened her, but then he always had. She watched him walking casually round her office as if he owned it. God, how she hated him. He peered at the photographs of the models, looking them up and down, then came back to her.
‘You’ll take her on, Marion, and then I want her doing the charity show on the fifteenth, at Amanda’s club. Be a grand in it for you.’
Marion laughed and shook her head. ‘You joking? Amanda’s nightclub? No way, baby. Look, I’ve already got a crack team going in on that; they want the best girls I’ve got. I can’t take on a rank amateur. What d’you think I am?’
Micky moved fast. He grabbed hold of Marion’s wrist, making her wince. ‘I know what you are, and I want her on that job, you understand?’
She pulled her hand free. ‘I can’t do it, Micky.’
He pulled her to her feet and gripped her tight by the arms. ‘Yes, you can, Marion. You can do anything I want. We go back a long way, remember?’