Hard Girls (25 page)

So what the fuck was he going to do about Eve? Who, in fairness, also had her charms. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he knew the situation with Danny could get a bit fraught, what with her being his sister and all, not that he really gave a monumental fuck about that. But he respected the boy, even more so now he had seen fit to sort out the O’Learys.

Pat was itching again, and he went into one of the downstairs bathrooms to apply more cream. The incongruousness of the situation hit him: he was well past retirement age, he had a rash on his dangler, and he was dreading the arrival of his young lady friend. It was time he took serious stock and sorted this whole fucking sorry mess out. What he needed, he decided, was to get his Kate back and get his old life back. He missed it, missed the normality, the knowledge that, even though he was getting older, it didn’t matter so much when they were together. At the end of the day, Kate wasn’t a spring chicken herself. His brush with a second youth was over, he had never particularly liked the first one. Now he had made his mind up, he felt easier. All he had to do was get a plan and put it into action. He opened the whisky and poured himself a drink.

First on the agenda, though, was getting shot of Eve. Something he felt was going to be easier said than done.

Chief Superintendent Lionel Dart was almost beside himself with glee. He had, at last, found something on Kate Burrows, or Patrick Kelly’s tart, whatever you wanted to call her.

That he had to kowtow to Patrick was neither here nor there, he expected that, it went with the job. No self-respecting Chief Super would be anywhere in this world without the helping hand of the local bully boys. It was how the world worked. It was about scratching backs, making a decent wage, and ensuring the proper villains went to prison.

While Patrick had been trumping Kate, Lionel had been forced to stay his hand in the interests of keeping him happy. Something that most people seemed to realise was important very early on in their acquaintance with Pat.

But Kate, now
she
was another story. Lionel was honest enough to admit that it was her attitude to him that really rankled. Considering she was
living
with the man, how she could disapprove of his relationship with Patrick was beyond his comprehension. So what if he allowed himself a few perks? It wasn’t entirely unheard of, he liked the finer things in life. He also liked the association, for the more obvious reasons. It held a certain cachet, while allowing him certain freedoms he might not otherwise have been party to.

Lionel was a petty man by nature. He was also a disappointed man, he knew he had sold out too early in his career and that was why he was finishing his days in a shithole like Grantley. He had thrown in his all and, like many before him, he had found out too late that personal fulfilment was the real deal. His life was all but wasted, and there was nothing he could do to change anything now. He had made his fucking bed, and the last thing he wanted to do w good enoughc text-align: center; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em; } .yas lie in it, especially with the woman he had married all those years ago. She made statements that would have raised the blood pressure of a deaf mute.

But now he was looking forward to putting Kate Burrows firmly in her place and although it was childish and petty, he didn’t care. This, he felt, had been a long time coming.

Jemimah Dawes had always been a reckless individual, but the death of her friends had made her understand just how dangerous the life she was living actually was. Thanks to Miriam, she was seeing that there was a different path, a different way of life, that might not be so lucrative, but was definitely safer. Unencumbered with children, and without any real close family, she felt she had a good chance of making a fresh start.

In fact, thanks to Miriam and her contribution from her church fund, she was getting herself ready to make the change. Seven hundred quid wasn’t exactly a fortune in these troubled times but, together with the money she had saved, it would help her afford a new start in any place she felt attracted to. Spain was one option. She could do bar work, or even, she smiled to herself, go back to her usual occupation, only this time without the added burden of a fucking twenty-four-carat nut-case on the horizon.

She had been the victim of a right strange cove herself, and a part of her wondered if he was the man responsible for the other girls’ deaths. She knew he had been around for a long while, and that more than a few of the girls refused to deal with him. Unfortunately, there were always the girls who were willing to take the risk. It was because they felt that they deserved what they got, not that they would admit that, of course, but she had worked that one out a long time ago. Most of the girls in the game felt they were worthless, it happened to them gradually, over time.

She really wanted to change, she did. She just didn’t see how she was supposed to survive on a tenth of her weekly earn. She liked clothes, having a nice place to live, and she liked the safety net that money gave her. She liked her current address, it had a proper intercom and it was quite smart. She had never made the mistake of entertaining at home, her neighbours all thought she worked as a croupier.

But Jemimah was genuinely nervous these days, and a new start was just what she needed. She had also upset a few of her so-called friends by omitting to tell them of calls they had received, then taking the client herself. So she knew she was living on borrowed time as far as the other girls were concerned, and she felt it would soon be necessary to vacate the town of Grantley and spread her charms in a different location entirely.

She had one last punter, a regular, the first and only one she would ever entertain in her own home, then Miriam was coming around to give her a speech and, hopefully, the dough she had promised. She would look at flights later on. There was no hurry.

Eve was getting ready for her date with Patrick. She was pleased with her choice of dress, it was a fitted black silk number that clung where it touched, yet didn’t reveal anything you wouldn’t want your nan to see. She knew it was sex on legs, and the black, strappy high heels gave it a definite thumbs up.

Patrick was a man she liked enormously, that he was older than her didn’t bother her too much. He talked well, though he was a bit dated in his opinions at times, but then that was to be expected. He was also a man who could do wonders for her and her career. She wasn’t averse to the fact that an association with Patrick Kelly was opening all sorts of doors for her.

sooner rather than laterN phone rangy

Pat was a clever and thoughtful man and she knew that he realised that she genuinely cared for him and liked his company. She was also aware that she was a bit of a feather in his cap. There were not many men out there who would turn her down. She should know, she had turned down enough in her time. He also liked that she understood him and his businesses. Reading between the lines, Eve felt that Kate had been kept in the dark about a lot of his interests.

She applied another layer of red lip gloss; this dress needed the vamp look: red lips and eyes heavy with mascara. Luckily, it was a look that suited her. She had swept her hair up in a neat chignon and placed diamond studs in her prettily shaped ears.

As she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror she had to admit, without the least bit of bravado, that she was a very, very good-looking woman. She had always known that she would go far, and she had, further than even she had imagined. Though her brother was a big part of that, and she loved him for it.

But as she pondered her future as Patrick Kelly’s amour, she felt the blood quicken in her veins. If she played her cards right, and she was an expert card player, she was looking at a whole new life. A lucrative, easy life that could afford her a position that would guarantee her a lifetime of respect. She knew that, by most people’s standards, she was being crass. Thinking ahead, though, had always been one of Eve’s strongest points and, coming from her background, it had also been something that had kept her from falling by the wayside, and gotten her to where she was today. She understood only too well how hard life could be if you didn’t plan ahead, just look at all those poor fuckers who had never thought of their old age.

Well, she thought about it every day of her life. As Danny had once remarked, I don’t mind getting old, I just don’t want to be old
and
poor. Well, she didn’t want to be poor, period. She had been there and done that. She always smiled at successful people pontificating on their humble origins. Funny, she always thought, how a few quid made poverty seem so fucking honourable and life-affirming. The truth was, poverty was shite, and anyone who disagreed with her needed serious psychiatric treatment.

Eve walked to the door. She had no underwear on beneath the dress, and the feel of the silk against her body as she walked was sensuous, she could hear the faint rustle that told her, and anyone that cared to know, that she was wearing in the region of three grand. Three grand was cheap at half the price, because she knew that this dress made her look like a million dollars. She was confident the effort wouldn’t be wasted on Patrick, he liked the fact she had class.

She had to pop into the club, sort out a few things, and then get over to Patrick’s house. Being a very progressive woman, she never took a swimming costume with her, preferring to swim naked knowing he was watching her, knowing he couldn’t help but watch her. She had affected men like that all her life, and she loved the power it gave her over lesser women, lesser females. If you’ve got it, don’t flaunt it until the right man comes along, then flaunt it for all it’s worth. That was a sentiment Eve felt should be on a T-shirt.

Peter Bates looked sheepish, and Patrick felt the urge to laugh at him as he quietly came into the house. He looked like someone who wasn’t sure whether or not to take off their shoes.

‘Well, well, well. What 3"> 
 
 

ft, Kate?’ b dbrings you here? Good news, I hope?’

Peter grinned then. ‘Fuck me, Pat, thought you was going Filth. All we need is a hello, hello, hello, and you could be Sherlock Holmes’s little brother.’

Patrick laughed, despite himself. Peter was funny, there was
no
doubt about that. ‘Sherlock Holmes wasn’t a Filth, you fucking ingrate, he was a coke-headed fucking
amateur
detective. A bit like old Lionel from the Billery down the road. He likes a snort and he’s a fucking amateur. Now, let’s cut to the chase, have you got my fucking money?’

Patrick watched as his old mate sighed. He knew Peter of old and he knew he was now thinking on his feet, wondering how best to deliver the news. Pat loved Peter, but he wouldn’t trust him further than he could throw him. He never had, which is why he knew far more about this skulduggery than was good for either of them.

‘From what I can gather, Desmond should be surfacing somewhere along the Thames any day now. He was left to be found, if you get my drift. Knowing that ponce, he got stuck under a rock, which is something he should have thought about while he could still breathe. However, I digress. His old woman is not what you could call being cooperative, as such. In fact, I would go so far as to say that she is one stroppy cunt. Well, she is now a very frightened stroppy cunt. I hear young Danny went round there earlier today and she was left, how can I put it, wondering how best to extricate herself from the serious situation she has found herself in. Needless to say, her husband’s disappearance hasn’t bothered her as much as he might have liked. In fact, I think she sees that as a bonus of sorts. Knowing what we do now, we can, of course, appreciate her sentiments. Though, on the plus side, his bird is devastated by all accounts. So at least there is someone mourning his abrupt departure. I reckon his old woman will be playing by the rules tomorrow latest.’

‘So what’s the bad news?’

Peter grinned then, having expected Patrick to ask that very question.

‘She wants more money than we are willing to give and she has booked herself on a flight to Israel tomorrow, and thinks we don’t know about it. Fair enough. We all try it on, as you well know. However, I will point out to her that if she doesn’t toe the line, she will be lying on the Mount of Olives with a stone ten times the size of Joseph of Arimathea’s resting on her skinny corpse. As I said, we should get our poke by lunchtime tomorrow. She is a hard bird, and I quite liked that she tried it on, it shows spirit. What annoyed me was that she was mug enough to think that we would let her swan off with a serious wedge of stolen money. I mean, didn’t she learn anything from her husband over the years? His demise should have alerted her to the danger involved in trying to scam off your mates. If she had not waited around for the insurance, the silly whore would have been home and dry.’

Patrick started to laugh, really laugh. Only Peter could stand there and take pity on someone for not getting the rip-off right.

Peter smiled then and said seriously, ‘He’s a good kid that Danny. I have to take me hat off to him, he has placated everyone involved, recouped the money, and no one has fallen out too much. If he wasn’t such a handsome cunt I might actually start to like him. His sister ain’t bad either, but then I’m sure I’m preaching to the converted here, ain’t I?’

Patrick knew that a lot of Peter’s talk was
because
he was seeing Eve. His association with her gave added weight to Danny Boy’s position and he understood that. He would have thought exactly the same in Peter’s position. It was another reason why he had to stop this liaison now, before it all went too far. Eve was a lovely girl, and he thought the world of her, but the tea break was over and he wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible. He only hoped that Kate was feeling the same as he was.

One thing Pat knew for sure, though. He had averted a great disaster. As much as he liked Desmond, and he
had
liked him, if he had got his hands on the ponce before the O’Learys, he wasn’t sure he would have been so lenient. Some people just seemed to push it all too far, some people just never seemed to know when to call it a fucking day. The bottom line here, though, was that he had taken his eye off the ball. Well, that was not something he was going to be doing again in the future.