Sonny shuddered as Murphy approached the coffee bar. He quickly picked up his newspaper and from behind it watched him go to the counter and look down the menu.
‘I’ll have a coffee, milk and three sugars, and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich.’ Murphy scanned the people at the small tables. Then he took out his wallet and handed one pound to the boy at the counter. ‘Keep the change, son.’
‘Er... it’s ninety-nine pence, sir.’
Murphy gave him such an icy glare that the boy went white.
He came over to Sonny’s table. ‘You mind if I sit ’ere?’
‘Help yourself.’ Sonny tried to look casual as he carefully folded the newspaper. The tables behind him were empty. He leaned toward Murphy.
‘Thirty grand, used notes, best I could do. Case under the table.’
The boy appeared at Murphy’s elbow with the coffee. ‘Sandwich’ll be two minutes, sir.’
Murphy slurped a mouthful of coffee. ‘That’s a very good price, Sonny, very good. My guv’nor’ll be well pleased with that.’
Sonny felt the briefcase with the £30,000 between his feet and pushed it toward Murphy. ‘You got it?’
Murphy made no effort to reach down. He spooned more sugar into the coffee, stirred, took another mouthful, heaped in yet more sugar.
Sonny got to his feet and busied himself putting on his jacket. He put a pound coin on the table. ‘I’m not doin’ any more business, understand me? Not that hot, anyway. You wanna see me, leave a message here, don’t come to the shop. I’ve given you a very good deal, Murphy.’
Murphy stared straight ahead, sipping his coffee as if Sonny didn’t exist. The boy brought the sandwich to the table. Murphy picked up the pound coin and put it in his hand.
‘Thanks very much, son.’
Shirley slid back in the bath and could feel the hot, soapy water relaxing her. Her little transistor radio was playing quiet, soothing music. It was so lovely, she could have gone to sleep. In fact, she was almost drifting off...
Dolly popped her head round the door. ‘We’re just off.’
Shirley jerked awake, sending water splashing over the side.
‘Oh, sorry, did I make you jump?’
‘No, it’s all right,’ Shirley said, taking a breath. ‘You don’t mind me not coming, do you, Dolly?’
‘It doesn’t take three of us to pick up a book, love. See you later.’ She gave her a private smile. ‘Have a nice time, darlin’.’
Shirley sunk low down into the suds again and closed her eyes. She waited to hear the front door shut, so she could finally be alone. She was sick and tired of the house.
The front door slammed and Shirley’s whole body relaxed.
She opened her eyes again. Linda was always here, though. Even though she was dead.
She tried to conjure up Micky Tesco’s face in her mind, some of his expressions. Funny, the soapsuds smelt like him; he smelt so clean, like a bar of Camay soap. She laughed at the thought of Micky Tesco sitting in the bath, washing himself with pink Camay. Then she saw Linda’s toothbrush. Only Linda would have a Mickey Mouse toothbrush. She saw a vision of her brushing her teeth with the silly thing, and all thoughts of Micky vanished.
Arnie Fisher was having a helluva day. He’d schlepped all the way to the prison to see his brother, but once he got there he’d had nothing but complaints from him about not having any visitors. Arnie had spoken to the governor; he suspected that Tony was having some kind of nervous breakdown. Life on the inside was tough.
But life was getting tough on the outside, too. The club was really going downhill, and business was lousy. Arnie was going to have the place done over, completely redecorated; try and get a better class of punter in. All these things were flashing through Arnie’s mind, so he didn’t catch the nervous looks between the waiters.
‘Oi,’ Arnie shouted, ‘any of you seen that ape, Murphy?’
He felt a looming presence behind him, and turned to see Murphy pushing his rimless glasses up his nose.
‘I’m right here, guv’nor.’
‘Well, I’m bloody glad you are,’ Arnie said quickly, recovering himself. ‘You’re supposed to be on the door. That’s what I’m payin’ you for. That’s what I’m payin’ all these useless idiots for. I just walked through the club an’ I could ’ave been anybody — any Tom, Dick or Harry! We’re not open yet, right? I don’t like people comin’ in an’ out!’ Arnie carried yattering on as he climbed the stairs. He undid his overcoat and tossed it over his shoulder to Murphy, who was following behind.
Arnie opened a door and bellowed into the room: ‘Gloria!’ He turned to Murphy. ‘You see what happens? I’m not here one half of a day, and what happens? The whole place falls apart!’ He opened the door to his office. ‘You see what I mean, Murphy?’ Then he froze.
Seated at his desk, lounging back in his chair, was Harry Rawlins. Arnie’s stomach churned and he thought he was going to be sick. He took a deep breath. Please not on the new carpets.
Standing close to Rawlins was a kid he’d never seen before. Good-looking boy, but Arnie still didn’t like the look of him.
Arnie took a step back and felt Gordon Murphy behind him. He turned, and Murphy pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose with a crooked smile. The double-crossing bastard!
He watched the blond boy almost skip round the desk, gesturing for him to sit in one of his own chairs.
Rawlins leaned on his elbows. He nodded to the blond boy. ‘Get him a drink. The man looks as if he’s seen a ghost.’
Arnie began sweating. He watched the blond boy go to the drinks cabinet.
‘I’m taking over the club,’ Rawlins said, deadpan.
Arnie’s mouth gaped open, his eyes wide, and Rawlins laughed. ‘Just for one night, Arnie! Just for one night!’
Arnie saw the boy filling a glass with his best brandy as if it was cheap whisky. Christ almighty! Then he realized it was just what he needed, and reached out to take the glass. Arnie’s hand was shaking as he swallowed half the brandy in one go, feeling the hot liquid burn its way down. He put the glass back on the desk, pleased to see his hand was steadier. But he didn’t feel any less anxious.
‘We’re throwing a little party, Arnie. You wanna come?’ Rawlins said without smiling.
He got up and came round the desk. For a moment, Arnie thought he was going to smash him in the face, but instead Rawlins put out his hand and said, ‘Is that a deal, Arnie? Let me take over the club for a night?’
Arnie swallowed and nodded, trying to make light of it. ‘I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?’
Rawlins leaned back against the desk. ‘No, Arnie, you don’t.’
Bella was uncharacteristically subdued as Dolly drove to the lock-up, just staring out of the window. Eventually Dolly broke the silence.
‘So who’s this bloke Shirley’s going out with?’
Bella shrugged. ‘Some friend of Shirley’s mother.’
‘You know she’s pregnant,’ said Dolly.
Bella whipped round. ‘What, Shirley? She never told me!’
Dolly shook her head. ‘No, her mother.’
‘Oh, right. That’s all Shirley really wants, deep down — getting married, having kids. I mean, she likes the money, the flash clothes, but basically she’s not like you and me, Dolly.’