Jessie Keane - Black Widow

‘For what? Kath still thinks you’re the cow that stole her own sister’s husband. She has family loyalties, you can’t blame her for that.’

‘I’m family,’ Annie reminded him.

‘Not to Kath.’

‘You can’t steal a grown man, Jimmy,’ said Annie.

‘Some women can,’ said Jimmy reflectively. ‘They creep right in and make off with the silver right under your nose. Ruthie never stood a chance against you, and you knew it.’

Annie’s cheeks burned. ‘I’m not proud of that,’ she said.

‘No? Only you seem pretty bloody full of yourself, coming back here and giving orders. You’re fucking shameless.’

‘I’m doing what I have to do.’ And how dare he talk to her like this?

‘Yeah? Well that don’t include going round to mine and laying the law down to Kath.’

‘The place is a tip,’ said Annie angrily. ‘The kids are filthy. Kath looks like a bag lady. Can you honestly say you’re happy with a setup like that?’

A muscle was working in Jimmy’s jaw. ‘That’s my business,’ he said, ‘not yours. I don’t want you going round there, clear?’

Annie drew a breath. ‘I was extending the hand of friendship,’ she said more calmly.

‘Well, you’re lucky she didn’t bite the fucker off.’

‘I want Ruthie’s number,’ said Annie. ‘Kath’s got it. So you can get it too.’

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Jimmy, standing up.

‘Have a word with her, Jimmy. I’m serious.’

‘I said , I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Good.’ Annie picked up the pencil again as Jimmy approached the closed door into the hall. ‘And Jimmy?’

‘What?’ He paused.

‘Hit two of the Delaney halls.’ Annie pulled the books back toward her. She didn’t look up. ‘Hit them hard.’

‘He fancies you,’ said Dolly, strolling into the kitchen when Jimmy was gone.

‘What?’ Annie looked up blankly.

‘That Jimmy Bond. Fancies you rotten.’

‘Doll, you’re going mad.’

‘I’m telling you.’ Dolly put the kettle on and spooned tea into the pot. Then she turned and looked at Annie. ‘Trust your Aunt Dolly, she knows what’s what. Actually he’s quite tasty.’

‘I couldn’t be less interested, Dolly,’ said Annie, scribbling away again. Then she paused. ‘You know, I bet he’s got a girl tucked away somewhere. He’s a creature of habit, Jimmy Bond. He wouldn’t play around, exactly. He’d have one woman in a flat somewhere, nice and discreet, well out of Kath’s way.’

‘He’d rather have you, out of Kath’s way.’ Dolly poured the boiling water into the teapot. ‘Don’t pay any attention to all that macho bullshit posturing. You’re tough and that’s winding him up, but it’s also turning him on.’

‘Well he isn’t going to have me, out of Kath’s way. I told you, I’m not interested.’

‘Max Carter would be a hard act to follow, that’s for sure,’ said Dolly, putting two mugs, milk, sugar, and teapot on to a small tray and bringing it over to the table.

She sat down and looked at Annie squarely. ‘And you’ve got to be careful, in your position,’ she said.

Annie put down the pencil and looked at Dolly.

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning you’re like the Virgin Queen. You got to be above all that. Above reproach. Spotless and aloof. Can’t be seen to be mixing with the hoi polloi , now can one?’

Annie almost smiled as Dolly put on a posh voice for that last bit.

‘Only you’ve got a bit of a position to consider, ain’t that so?’ Dolly stirred the pot thoughtfully.

Annie watched the movement, heard the noise. A little like the noise she kept hearing over the phone. Familiar, but forgotten…or was it? Somewhere at the back of her mind, a horrible suspicion was starting to form.

‘If someone got close to you,’ continued Dolly, ‘they’d…well, they’d sort of be in charge then, wouldn’t they? The Queen’s consort. The manor’s wide open-but for you standing there like the prize in a coconut shy. No Max or Jonjo in the way, just you. A woman. And you know how these men rate women. And if you got involved with someone-someone like Jimmy Bond, for instance…’

‘Who’s married to my cousin, with two kids,’ Annie reminded her.

‘Like he’d give a shit. You’d be really tempting to a man like Jimmy Bond. From what you say, his wife’s turned into her granny as soon as she’s got him up the aisle-and I wish I had a sodding quid for every time I’ve seen that happen-and you’re all that’s left of the Carter clan and you’re a looker into the bargain. Wish I had those legs…’ Dolly sighed as she considered her own shapely but short pins. ‘Let’s face it, when God handed out legs, I was behind the frigging door.’

‘Is this going somewhere?’ asked Annie politely, quietly fuming at Dolly’s lack of tact. What did she care about men? She was Max’s wife.

No , she thought painfully. Max’s widow.

With the thought came the horrible pain of it again.

‘Yeah, it is.’ Dolly poured the tea. She flicked a glance at Annie and her eyes were serious now. ‘Just watch your step, okay?’

‘Meaning what?’

‘Meaning watch yourself with him. He’d be on you like a shot given half the chance, and I don’t think you want to open up that can of worms.’

Annie splashed milk into her mug. ‘I don’t want to open up any can of worms at all, Doll,’ she told her friend sadly. ‘I don’t want another man. Why the hell would I? The only man I ever loved is dead. Anyone else would be second best.’

Next day they were sitting around the kitchen table again, Annie and Dolly and Darren and Ellie-no Una, she was upstairs with a punter. All mates together, just like the old days.

Only nothing’s like the old days , thought Annie. My husband’s dead. My kid’s gone. My life’s in bits. Everything’s tainted. She was looking through the morning paper, turning the pages, not really taking any of it in. Nixon was attacking the communists in Cambodia, someone had tried to assassinate Makarios in Greece, John Wayne had won Best Actor at the Oscars for True Grit. None of it meant a damned thing to her. Ellie was spilling toast crumbs over the table as she devoured her breakfast, and Dolly was looking at Ellie as a mother would look at a difficult child.

Annie had questioned Dolly about Ellie’s surprise return to the fold, and Dolly had said: ‘I felt sorry for the silly tart, all right? I know she’s a bit two-faced…’

‘A bit? ’

‘But don’t everyone deserve a second chance in life?’

So here they all were, together again.

‘When I was on the game I wouldn’t kiss a client,’ Dolly was telling Ellie, who was apparently having problems in that direction. ‘If he looked like Elvis and fucked like a weasel, I still wouldn’t kiss him. Kissing’s too intimate. But occasionally a punter insists. And if it’s a choice between throwing a screaming fit and exchanging one small kiss, then I always went for the kiss-even though I didn’t want to.’

Ellie screwed up her pudgy face.

‘Yeah, but a lot of my clients are old. Let me tell you, there’s no bigger turnoff than kissing an old man with rattling dentures and bad breath.’

They all shuddered.

‘Then don’t do it,’ shrugged Darren. ‘Explain beforehand-nicely-that mouth-to-mouth is off-limits, anything else is fair game. Although I don’t see it myself. If you’re prepared to give some ugly old fart a blow job, why draw the line at a kiss?’

Annie looked at Ellie, who was diving into the biscuit tin again. Annie glanced at Dolly, whose expression said it all. They’d both seen this before with seasoned brasses, and they both knew what it meant.