Widows

‘You’ve been a stupid little tart, but it stops right now, you hear me? I’m the boss for a bloody good reason. Now, before I tell you what you’re going to do next, I’m going to ask you a question. I’ve already asked it once and this time you’ll answer. Did you tell Carlos anything about what we’re up to?’

‘I swear I haven’t. Not a word. On my life, Dolly...’ And Dolly knew this was true.

‘You’re going to get rid of him, Linda.’ Dolly said.

For a second, Linda thought Dolly looked and sounded like a mafia boss ordering a hit. ‘How do you mean?’ she asked in a pathetic, croaky voice.

Dolly wanted to get hold of her by the scruff of the neck and knock some sense into her. ‘Well, I ain’t on about concrete boots, if that’s what’s going through your stupid brain. He’s the Fishers’ wheels man, right? He must have a garage full of hot cars.’

Linda’s mouth dropped open. ‘You want me to shop him to the Old Bill?’

‘One phone call, Linda. Get them to raid his place. Today.’ Dolly stood up and tucked Wolf under her arm. ‘And don’t you ever lie to me again.’ Dolly turned and started to walk away, but paused and looked back at Linda, sitting with her head down, staring at the cigarette ash floating in the cold espresso in front of her. She looked totally defeated. Dolly still didn’t feel sorry for Linda, but she did need her to get her act together and get rid of Carlos. ‘Thanks for Jimmy Nunn’s address,’ she said. ‘I’ll look into it.’

Linda sat alone at the table. On the other side of the cafe, the Greek and three swarthy builders were eyeing her up. She felt disgusting. Stupid and disgusting. It had taken less than five minutes for Dolly to turn one of Linda’s proudest moments into one of her most shameful. She fucking hated Dolly Rawlins! She was a horrible, horrible woman. Horrible for not having a heart, and for crushing Linda’s in one conversation. She hadn’t needed to use terms like ‘bum boy,’ Linda thought; she did it because she was a sad, old, hateful witch of a woman.

Her right hand found the gold necklace and the pendant of Sagittarius the archer that Carlos had given her. He’d made her close her eyes as he slipped it over her head, kissed her gently and settled it into the hollow of her neck. She loved it. She loved him. They’d made love, standing, watching each other in the mirror. In the morning, Carlos had left before she woke, leaving a note saying he’d see her after work. But now all she could see in her mind’s eye was Carlos kissing Arnie with those same luscious Italian lips.

That bitch, that twisted bitch! The pain Linda felt was unbearable. She tried to expunge the image of Arnie and Carlos from her head but she couldn’t. She twisted the necklace until the gold chain snapped. A small trickle of blood ran down her neck where the archer’s bow had cut her skin, and she wept.

Chapter 22

Dolly checked the address Linda had given her. She was parked in a street of squalid, run-down houses. She spotted a kid gliding down the pavement on a skateboard and, lowering the window, yelled at him to come over.

‘D’you know who lives at number thirty-nine?’ she asked.

The kid looked over to the house then back to Dolly. He shook his head.

‘Don’t have a clue, missus. Why you askin’?’

Dolly got out of her Merc, ‘I’m visiting an old friend.’

‘Then you should know more about them than me, shouldn’t ya?’ the kid replied with a cheeky grin on his face.

Dolly looked around. The Merc was a big prize in a street like this. ‘Look after my motor and I’ll give you three quid,’ she said to the kid.

The boy’s eyes lit up. ‘I’ll do it for a fiver,’ he said.

Dolly smiled. She liked this kid. They shook hands and Dolly headed toward Jimmy Nunn’s place.

The house had been split into four flats and the front door was on the latch. It was even worse on the inside than she imagined: the hallway full of flyers, black plastic rubbish bags, broken milk bottles, free newspapers and used takeaway cartons. The hall light switch didn’t work and she saw there was no bulb in the dangling light socket. Using her lighter to help her see her way, she moved on up the stairs. By the time she’d reached the second landing, the smell wasn’t so bad. She stopped, held her lighter near the door and saw the number four. As she knocked a baby began to howl. She waited, knocked again and the baby howled louder.

‘Who is it?’

Dolly knocked again.

The door inched open and a young woman peered through the gap. ‘I ain’t interested in buying nothing.’

She started to close the door, but Dolly was faster.

‘Mind if I have a chat, love? That’s all I want,’ Dolly asked, pushing past her into a small, cheaply furnished room. She lit a cigarette. The young girl’s perfume was cloying. ‘I’m looking for Jimmy Nunn. Is he in?’

The girl said nothing; she clearly had no clue who Dolly was.