‘Hello, Shirley, how was Spain?’ Tony turned slowly and stared at her forehead with a menacing smile.
Audrey quickly jumped in. ‘I was just tellin’ Tony you’d been in Spain doing some modeling. He was askin’ where you was.’
Tony looked Shirley up and down, stopping to gawp at her tits. ‘You’re looking lovely, Shirl.’
‘Thank you,’ Shirley stuttered. She had no idea how to deal with the likes of Tony Fisher.
‘I was hoping we could go for a little chat. We’ll go to yours; it’ll be quiet there.’
Audrey jumped in again. ‘I’ll give you something to take back with you,’ she said, desperately trying to keep calm as she wrapped some carrots and handed them to Shirley, ‘She’s back with me at the moment, aren’t you, Shirl? There you go, you take those back with you. We can have them with tea. I won’t be far behind you. Not far behind you at all.’ Audrey knew that she couldn’t stop Tony from leaving the market with her daughter, but hoped beyond hope that if they went back to her house then Greg would still be there with his stupid mates.
‘What do you want to talk to me about?’ Shirley asked, nervously screwing the paper round the carrots till it ripped.
Tony grabbed her by the arm. ‘Let’s go. We can talk at your mum’s.’ He led Shirley toward his car, gripping her elbow so hard she was unable to resist.
Shirley glanced back at Audrey, who mouthed that she’d follow, but neither knew if she’d be able to follow quickly enough. The second Tony’s car pulled out of sight, Audrey threw her money belt at Mushroom Features and ran as fast as she could toward the pub, where she hoped to get a lift back to her flat. If there was no one who could help her, she’d run the whole way, fueled by the fear of what that bastard might do to her little girl.
Tony had to lift his feet high off the floor in Audrey’s kitchen to step his way through dirty laundry and rubbish bags. The ironing board was laden with creased clothes, the kitchen table still had dirty breakfast things on it, and a week’s worth of dirty dishes were stacked in the sink and all over the draining board. It was disgusting.
‘You in, Greg?’ Shirley shouted, but there was no reply. ‘I want a word with you about that car! Come down if you’re in!’
Tony took off his cashmere coat, folded it and placed it on the ironing board. ‘Just us,’ he whispered menacingly. He pulled two chairs out from the kitchen table, sat down in one and pointed at the other. ‘Sit down with me.’
Shirley was shaking. She wasn’t clever like Linda; she was scared and knew she was showing it. ‘I’ll make us a coffee,’ she said. Anything to keep her distance from Tony.
Tony had fancied Shirley ever since he first saw her five years ago, when she was still a teenager. Why she’d married that muttonhead Terry, he’d never know. Terry had brought her down the club to a private party once; Shirley must only have been about sixteen or seventeen at the time, but she was well stacked even then, fresh-looking and ripe for the taking. Tony crossed his legs and eased his crotch. He was turning himself on thinking about what he’d like to do to her.
Shirley was shaking uncontrollably, her hand trembling as she opened the fridge door to get the milk. Tony watched her bend her lovely head and sniff at the bottle.
She made a face. ‘It’ll have to be black,’ she said nervously as she flicked the kettle on.
Tony said nothing, just watched her. Every movement she made was sexy; the more flustered she got, the sexier she looked and the more it turned him on.
Shirley had to squeeze past him to get the coffee. As she did, he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her down onto his lap. She sat stiff-backed as he leaned forward and sniffed her neck. It smelt like fresh lemons. He touched the clear fresh skin and she shivered with fear as he moved his fingers up and down. Tony began to undo her shirt buttons.
‘You must know how gorgeous you are. Do you like what you do to men?’
‘No,’ Shirley stammered. ‘I don’t know... I don’t do anything on purpose.’ She tried to stop him by pushing his groping hands away but he grabbed her hard round the wrist and, with his other hand, undid another button. He let go of her wrist and was about to put his hand inside her shirt when Shirley jumped up off his knee and went for the coffee.
Tony laughed as he watched her trying to spoon out the granules, pour the boiling water and button up her shirt all at the same time. Her hands were shaking. He lit a cigarette and moved over to stand close behind her, squeezing against her body as he took the kettle out of her hands and poured the boiling water into the cup. Shirley tried to move away from him, but he placed his free arm around her waist and trapped her. ‘Shall we have that chat now?’ he asked.
‘If you like,’ Shirley said in a very small voice.
‘You know anything about Harry Rawlins’s ledgers?’
Shirley shook her head.
‘Terry ever mention them?’ Tony continued.
‘Nothing, I don’t know anything about them. I mean, I dunno even what they are.’
Tony drew on his cigarette and held it in his mouth, one arm still loose around her waist. The smoke stung her eyes, as it always did, but she was so terrified she hardly noticed.
Tony’s arm tightened round her hip, pulling her close to his body. He pushed his groin against her backside and she could feel how excited he was by the power he had over her. He was going to rape her, she was sure. He put the kettle down and pulled her shirt forward, roughly slipping his hand inside to cup her breast.
‘Lovely,’ he whispered, breathing cigarette smoke all over her.
‘What do you want?’ Shirley tried not to tremble but it was no good.
‘All in good time,’ Tony replied as he continued to fondle her. ‘Very nice. Firm but soft, all at the same time.’ Shirley’s trembling was putting him off. ‘Relax, will you? I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just want to know about those ledgers, darlin’, that’s all.’
‘I don’t know—’
Before Shirley could finish, Tony had pinned her arms against her side, taken his cigarette from his mouth and held it so close to her breast she could feel the heat.
‘Oh, God, no. Please don’t!’ Shirley screamed.
‘You still doing the beauty circuits, are you? I bet they don’t touch you with a barge pole if you’ve got the slightest blemish, do they? Sanctimonious bastards. I’d still touch every inch of you though, Shirl, don’t you worry about that. Now tell me where those ledgers are.’
‘I don’t know, Tony, I swear I don’t.’
As Tony moved the cigarette closer to her perfect skin, Shirley swiped at his hand and knocked his cigarette to the floor. ‘Bitch!’ he screamed, and hit her hard across the mouth with the back of his hand. She crumpled in a heap onto the floor. Her lip was cracked and a thin trickle of blood oozed out, poppy-red against her ashen skin. Tony gripped her by the hair, unzipped his trousers and began to force her head toward his crotch.
Greg had never been one for good timing, but for once he got it exactly right. The door to the kitchen swung open to reveal him in his punk leather gear and ear studs, his hair dyed pink and yellow. Behind him were his mates, Arch, with his Mohawk haircut and leopard-print T-shirt, and Fruity Tooty, who had a shaved head and thick black eye make-up, and was dressed in a full-length black leather trench coat. The three of them looked like characters out of a B-list horror movie. At first, as Tony Fisher quickly zipped up his fly, Greg thought he had caught his sister in a compromising position. He was about to walk out in embarrassment when he clocked Shirley’s terrified and bleeding face. He had no option but to stand his ground. ‘You all right, sis?’ he asked, scared out of his wits. He knew Tony Fisher and his reputation.
Greg’s mates were normally useless, but Fruity Tooty, seeing Shirley’s split and bloody lip — and not knowing Tony from Adam — gallantly stepped forward to have a go. Greg held him back, shaking his head. It would be a bad move. If he was honest, Greg wasn’t even certain that all three of them could take on Tony Fisher.