‘Do me a favor!’ Linda snorted. ‘’Ow d’yer think ’e’s gonna react when ’e knows?’
Bella glanced at Linda in the mirror. ‘What do you mean? Knows what?’
‘You know what I mean — when ’e knows!’
Bella turned. ‘You don’t think I’m gonna tell him about the raid, do you?’
Linda rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t mean the raid, Bella. How d’yer think ’e’s goin’ ter feel when ’e finds out about you?’
‘Well, who’s gonna tell him about me, Linda?’
‘Well... nobody... but I’m just sayin’, what ’appens if ’e finds out somehow? He’s in politics or somethin’ over here, isn’t ’e? I mean, you don’t know anythin’ about him. ’E’s old!’
‘Don’t try changing the subject, Linda. Who’s gonna tell him about me? Eh? If you open your mouth—’
‘Look, don’t be stupid, I wouldn’t say anythin’...’
‘You better not, Linda. This means everything to me, and I’m not gonna let it go, you understand me? He’s the best thing that’s ever happened in my life, and if you try and fuck it up, by Christ I’ll smash your—’
‘Try it!’ Linda jumped up from the bed. ‘What d’yer bleedin’ think I am, Bella?’
‘I don’t know, Linda. All I do know is you’ve done nothing but moan since you got here and your money’s still stuck in the toilet. This is your chance too, Linda. Why don’t you get yourself together and do something like the rest of us?’
‘I’m goin’ to, I’m goin’ to, all right? Just leave me alone. Everybody’s pickin’ on me!’ Linda marched into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Bella snapped shut the cases with a sigh, then carried them over to the door. How did Linda always manage to turn it round like this? Now Bella was feeling bad. She went and stood in front of the bathroom door.
‘Linda, you comin’ out of there?’
‘No!’ came the sullen reply from inside.
‘Look, Linda, we’re going to the Coconut Grove tonight, you hear me?’
Silence.
‘Linda, d’you wanna come out with us tonight — dinner, cabaret? It’s a dress-up do.’
A childish little voice said, ‘What time?’
‘Ten o’clock. We’ll pick you up. And Linda, lay off the booze, all right? Don’t start drinking before we get there.’ Bella picked up her suitcases and walked out.
Linda sat on the loo, wanting to cry. Why couldn’t she get herself together? What was the matter with her? Everyone else seemed to know what they wanted, and how to get it. But she wasn’t like the others. She had never had much interest in clothes and jewelry and all that. She had never had much interest in anything, really. Suddenly she felt all alone, as alone as she’d felt when she was four years old in a convent, and she’d asked one of the nuns, ‘Is my mummy coming back?’ And the nun had just looked down and said, ‘No, Linda, Mummy’s not coming back, but we’re here, and we love you.’ She’d patted Linda’s head gently, but Linda knew it wasn’t love. There’d been no arms round her, no hugs, no real affection, and every visiting hour she’d waited, and every visiting day she’d ask, ‘Is my mummy coming to see me?’ But her mummy never came.
And then there was Joe. She’d been in the arcade when Charlie limped over and said, ‘Linda, come into the back for a minute.’
At first she’d laughed at him. ‘I’m not goin’ down the back wiv you, Charlie. What you want, a bit of a touch-up?’
He shook his head. ‘Come on, Linda, don’t mess about. Come into the back room.’
She knew then something was wrong. He’d taken her into the back room and shut the door, before reaching into his hip pocket and pulling out a new bottle of brandy. He was unscrewing the top. That’s when she knew something terrible had happened.
‘What is it, Charlie?’
He’d handed her the bottle. ‘Have a drink, darlin’.’
‘It’s Joe!’
‘I’m afraid they want you down the police station,’ he said.
‘Has there been an accident? What’s ’appened, Charlie?’ Already she was beginning to feel numb.
‘He’s dead, Linda. Joe’s dead.’
And even then it still didn’t feel real. She’d been to the morgue, she’d identified the terrible, charred remains of Joe. And then she’d gone home and she’d been just like that little girl in the convent, sitting, waiting and asking, ‘Is Joe coming home?’ And her own voice had answered her, saying, ‘No, Linda, Joe’s not coming home. He’s never coming home ever again.’
And then Dolly had come along, taking charge of her life, bossing her round and telling her what to do. But even though she’d fought her corner and argued with her, she’d had a good time when she’d been with Dolly and the girls. She’d felt as though things were happening in her life. She had to admit it, she’d never known such excitement, such a buzz.
And now they’d all gone!
Bella didn’t see the sad little face at the window, watching her as the Rolls-Royce slowly glided down the driveway and away from the villa. Nobody saw it, and nobody heard the sobbing from the girl sitting by herself in the bathroom — the girl who in some ways had everything going for her. Now she had money, she just had to decide what to do with her life. But the cash meant nothing to Linda, and the rest of her life stretched ahead like a long, empty road.
With the girls gone, she felt more alone than she’d ever felt in the whole of her life.
Jimmy opened the bedroom door and edged over to the bed, where Harry was still fast asleep. He nudged the bed with his knee. ‘Oi, Harry! Harry, wake up!’ Jimmy leaned closer. ‘Banks are open, if you wan’ ’em. You’ve had a couple of hours.’
Harry opened his eyes and squinted against the sunlight coming through the shutters. ‘What time is it?’
‘Almost five.’
‘All right. Thanks, Jimmy.’
‘D’ye wanna drink?’
Harry shook his head, and Jimmy edged out of the room. ‘If you want somethin’ to eat I can get it on now.’
‘No, no thanks, I’ll just go to the bank.’
The door shut and Harry started to scratch his arm where the mosquitoes had bitten him. Christ, what a shithole! He sat up on the edge of the bed.
‘Jimmy!’
He was there in a second, almost as if he’d been waiting outside the door. ‘Yeah, Harry?’
‘Could that... your woman... do something with my suit?’
‘Sure, Harry!’ Jimmy scuffled round and picked up the crumpled jacket and trousers. ‘You got a clean shirt?’
Harry nodded, unzipping his holdall. ‘Soon’s you can, Jimmy. I wanna get this over and done with.’
‘Right you are, Harry.’ And he was gone again.
Harry took out a clean white T-shirt, crossed over to the small dressing table and looked at himself, pinching his waist. He’d put on a little weight, but he was still looking fit. Yeah, he didn’t look bad at all, considering. He leaned down closer to the mirror and rubbed his stubble. He needed a shave.
Harry could hear Jimmy and Maria going at it hammer and tongs in the kitchen. It sounded like she wasn’t happy about valeting his suit.
He crossed to the shutters and pushed them open, the stench from the street filling the room. Poor old Jimmy — he’d got out of one shithole and straight into another one.
As they sat opposite each other in the restaurant, Dolly remembered why she had never liked Barry Sutcliffe. They always said if you want to get yourself a sharp lawyer, make sure he’s Jewish — and if he’s a little bit crooked with it, then you’ve got the best. Well, Barry Sutcliffe certainly ticked all of those boxes, but his pushy and uncouth manner had always grated on her. Now, with his pot belly pushing against the table, he cracked open the topping of his crème brûlée with his spoon and a couple of pieces shot across the table. Sutcliffe quickly scooped them up and shoveled them into his mouth, dribbling creamy custard down his shirt.