Audrey turned and gave Shirley a grin. ‘Hello, love, didn’t hear you come in.’
Audrey surveyed the room. ‘What’s all this, then?’
‘It’s the nursery,’ said Audrey, stubbing out her cigarette. Audrey showed Shirley the fabrics she’d chosen, and where she was going to put the cot. Then she lifted a sheet from a crib.
‘Greg gave me this.’
Shirley crossed her arms. ‘Yeah, I’ll bet ’e did. Nicked it from Mothercare, did ’e?’
Audrey frowned. Shirley really had been getting on her nerves lately. ‘Look, love, Greg’s giving me housekeeping now. I’m getting things organized here.’
‘So I can see, Mum,’ Shirley replied with a shake of her head.
Audrey waddled back to the chair and sat down. ‘Look, if you’ve only come over to pick on me, you can leave. A woman in my condition don’t need any aggravation.’ She plonked her feet back on the box and picked up the magazine. ‘You seeing Micky, then, are you?’
Shirley didn’t reply.
‘I ’ope you are. I think your problem is you’re not getting it. Everyone knows it makes you ratty.’
‘Well, the whole world can see you’re getting yours, and look where it’s got you,’ Shirley retorted, sitting down on the bed.
The two women looked at each other as the tape played on: ‘...repeat the exercise on your left side, lift the right leg up...’
‘Oh, shut up!’ Audrey flipped it off.
Shirley looked round the room again. She’d spent her childhood in this room, but it was a long time since she’d lived here. She was glad, in some ways, that it was all going to be done up.
Audrey caught her looking at her. Slightly embarrassed, she held her tummy. She was now showing very clearly.
‘Did you want something, darlin’?’
Shirley shrugged. ‘I just came over to see you, that’s all. D’you wanna cup o’ tea or anythin’?’
‘No thanks, love, I just ’ad one. I’m watchin’ me liquids. You go an’ ’ave one if you like. I’m just trying to decide on the wallpaper.’
Shirley felt as if she wasn’t wanted, wasn’t needed.
‘I’m sure it’s going to look very nice, Mum.’
Audrey held up a picture in the magazine. ‘I’m doin’ it just like this. I’m thinking of callin’ ’im ’Arry if ’e’s a boy, after the prince. Be nice, that, don’t you think? Harry Bates?’
‘Is he gonna marry you then, Mum?’
Audrey flicked through the pages. ‘When ’e gets ’is divorce, yes ’e is.’
Shirley shook her head. ‘That’s what they all say, isn’t it, Mum?’
Audrey was sharp this time. ‘Why don’t you just get out? Go on, go!’
Shirley picked her way through the mess and into the kitchen. She looked round distastefully, then picked up her handbag — but she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to face Dolly. She didn’t want to face Bella.
She wondered why she hadn’t told Micky about Linda, but then, he’d seemed so proud of her, of the way she’d looked, she hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment.
She sighed. Time to face the music.
Vic Morgan was worried about Resnick. He seemed to be deteriorating fast. He needed to get a move on with things.
Morgan leaned forward. ‘I checked out Dolly... Mrs. Rawlins’ story. Linda Pirelli was found last night, exactly where she said. Seemed she’d pushed Dolly out of the way. He was trying to kill her; Rawlins was trying to kill his wife.’
Resnick lay back on the pillows and sighed. ‘And the girl’s dead? Linda Pirelli’s dead?’
Morgan passed Resnick the autopsy report. As he flipped through it, Morgan noticed again how little movement he had in his right hand.
Resnick handed the report back. ‘Could mean a murder investigation. We’re gonna have to move sharpish if we’re going to find Rawlins.’ He grimaced with pain. ‘You think his wife’s on the level, do you, eh?’
‘I dunno,’ said Morgan with a shrug.
‘Come on, you do, don’t you? You think she’s on the level?’
‘All right, yes, I do.’
Resnick then rolled up a piece of newspaper and swatted at something on the bed Morgan couldn’t see.
Morgan hoped to God Resnick wasn’t beginning to lose his mind.
Resnick took another swipe. ‘Can’t you see these little buggers? Bloody flies everywhere.’ Then he seemed to come back to reality. ‘You think Mrs. Rawlins is on the level, huh? Stayed at your place, did she? State of shock, I’ll bet. Don’t let that bitch wind you round her fingers, ’cos she’s all we’ve got, Vic, and if Rawlins wants her, then we’ll get to him through Dolly.’ He swatted Morgan’s elbow. ‘Can’t you see it? They’re everywhere.’
Morgan put a hand on his arm. ‘George...’
Resnick focused again. ‘I reckon if you stay on her tail, we’ll get him. We’ll also get thirty grand’s worth of reward money. And you know something? I reckon with that money behind us, you and I could open up an agency. Whaddya say?’
Morgan nodded uncertainly. Then he saw one of the tiny fruit flies land on Resnick’s pillow. So he wasn’t losing his marbles after all. He breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Just you keep a watch on her,’ Resnick repeated. ‘Watch her round the clock. Because he’ll find her, wherever she is, you’ll see.’ He lay back and closed his eyes.
Morgan turned round to find DI Fuller standing at the bedside.
Morgan stood up and gave Fuller a nod. ‘I’m afraid he’s not too good.’ He patted Resnick’s arm.
‘Be seeing you, mate.’ He walked off down the ward.
Fuller stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure if Resnick was awake. Eventually his old boss opened his eyes and coughed, before grimacing in pain. Fuller sat down in the vacant chair.
‘I’m sorry to hear... I... thought you’d be up and about by now.’
Resnick pulled himself up. ‘Why don’t you cut the bullshit, Fuller? What do you want? You’re not here to inquire about my health. If you were, you would ’ave been ’ere weeks ago. So what is it?’
Fuller took a deep breath, then told Resnick all about Linda Pirelli.
Resnick stared at him. ‘Who?’
Fuller thought he knew what Resnick was doing. He’d done it to him often enough in the office. He thought he was being funny. ‘Look, George, I’ve been over all your old files. You know there’s thirty grand for any information on the raid?’
‘What raid?’ asked Resnick.
‘The second raid.’
‘Ah, yes... Well, nobody’d really be interested in the first raid, would they? I mean, they all died, didn’t they? Yes, they all... Joe Pirelli, of course! Terry Miller... Harry Rawlins... They all bought it on that raid.’
Fuller had had enough. ‘Come on, George, don’t mess me about! Rawlins isn’t dead. You know that as well as I do.’
Resnick just looked at him. He couldn’t stand the little prick.
‘Come on, George, you saw him.’
Resnick shrugged. ‘I must’ve been mistaken. I’d taken a hell of a beating, remember? Must’ve been seeing things.’
Fuller tried another angle. ‘What about his wife?’
Resnick smiled and nodded. ‘Oh, she’s a lovely lady.’
Fuller had had enough. ‘All right, George, have it your own way.’ He shook his head. ‘You always were a stubborn bastard.’ He carefully pushed the chair back against the bedside cabinet, then leaned against the bed. ‘Rawlins is alive, and I’m gonna damned well find him — with or without your help.’