Jessie Keane - Black Widow

She had to face that. Anything could go wrong. But they had the advantage of an insider, and her years with Max had taught her that inside knowledge, inside help, was key to a good job. But would Chris co-operate? He’d looked at her dubiously when she had sounded him out. Chris liked a quiet, orderly life. And if he did the job with Max’s boys he would have to get out of the country afterwards, which he wasn’t keen on, or face a lengthy jail term, which he was even less keen on, and anyway, how would Aretha like any of those apples?

No. It was impossible.

Even though Chris had agreed-reluctantly-to talk it through again, it was impossible.

There were so many things against them. For example, what if the money was marked in some way? What if for some reason the full amount wasn’t there, and she was left with all the shit from the heist but still without the huge amount of cash she’d need to pacify the kidnappers?

It bothered her all through the rest of the weekend and, when Monday dawned, she was no further forward. Chris had said the cash came in on Wednesdays, which gave them about a day and a half to put the wheels in motion, and she knew that wasn’t time enough. Sometimes a job could take weeks, even months, of meticulous planning: she knew that. To go in hastily, without thinking everything through, without making precise plans, was suicide.

Madness.

And she was only considering it because she couldn’t face the alternative she was now thinking about. The alternative could start a gang war the like of which hadn’t been seen since Spot and Hill in the Fifties-she could hand the Carter manor and everything in it over to Redmond Delaney.

It had crossed her mind in the dead cold hours of early morning. To save Layla, she might be forced to do that.

But she didn’t want to. She resisted it with every iota of strength she had left. Because, if she did that, all that Max had worked for would be gone. And, besides, Redmond fucking Delaney was the reason she was going to Billy’s funeral today. He had ordered Billy’s death and she knew it. And how the fuck was she, a Carter to her bones, going to face doing business with the hated Delaneys?

Yeah, sure it was Redmond’s fault , whispered that voice in her head. No way it was yours, right?

She was still mulling it all over when Tony drove Dolly and her over to the church for Billy’s funeral. Mulling it over-and getting precisely bloody nowhere.

‘I’m glad we’ve got a chance for a private word,’ said Dolly as the Jag glided through the grey streets of the East End.

‘Oh?’ Annie looked at her. Dolly was looking at the back of Tony’s head. She glanced back at Annie. ‘You can say anything in front of Tony,’ Annie told her. ‘He’s sound.’

Dolly let out a sigh. ‘Well, it’s not good news,’ she said.

‘Come on then, out with it.’ Annie gave the ghost of a smile. ‘I’m used to bad news by now, Doll, or ain’t you noticed?’

‘It’s Darren, Annie,’ said Dolly, and Annie was shocked to see tears start in Dolly’s eyes.

‘What is it?’ she asked, her heart sinking.

‘He ain’t been too good for quite a while,’ said Dolly, gulping and scrabbling around in her bag for a hankie. ‘Fuck, we ain’t even got to the funeral yet and I’m blubbing already.’

‘I could see he wasn’t right when I first came back,’ said Annie. ‘He said he’d lost his boyfriend. Well, more than a boyfriend. He was in love with the man, and he died.’

Dolly nodded and dabbed at her eyes. ‘That’s right. The fucker went and died and at first Darren was really upset, wouldn’t eat, went downhill…but then, time passed, and I thought, he’ll perk up soon. Only he didn’t. He kept going down and finally I persuaded him to get off to the doc’s and find out what the hell was wrong. And he did.’

‘You told me about the blackouts. He said he was having some tests done,’ said Annie.

‘Yeah, and the results came back.’

Annie looked at her, wondering what the hell she was about to say.

‘Well, go on. Spit it out.’

‘It’s a wasting disease. Got a big long fancy name, but the specialist said in layman’s terms it’s MS. Basically he’s getting weaker and weaker and he’s going to end up in a fucking wheelchair.’

Dolly choked on the last word and turned tear-filled blue eyes to her friend.

‘Oh shit, Doll.’ Annie stared at her in horror. Darren had been handed a slow, lingering death sentence.

‘I went to see the doc with him. Wanted to hear it for myself. We said I was his big sister and, you know what? I’ve always felt like that.’ Dolly paused and drew breath. ‘Poor bloody Darren. He’s going down and he’s not going to come back up again. The doctor said to expect serious organ damage, confusion, disability…death.’

And now the car was pulling in through the church gates, and they had Billy’s funeral to get through.

It was hellish, of course.

Tony stayed in the car. Annie had sent flowers, red roses: she thought Billy would have liked that. Doll sent pink lilies. Max’s boys were there to show their respect for one of their own. Billy’s Mum was there, hugely fat and hobbling on a stick, with a man in braces and a cheap jacket and baggy trousers. One of Billy’s ‘uncles’, Annie guessed. One of the succession of men who had passed through his mum’s life.

Because Billy was a well-known face around the Carter manor, a fair slice of the populace had turned out, despite the showery weather, to see him on his way. Annie felt guilt gnawing away at her all through the service.

Who was she kidding?

Redmond Delaney may have ordered Billy done, but it was her fault he’d gone that far. If she hadn’t come back here, Billy would still be alive today, walking around the Carter manor and going to Dolly’s Limehouse parlour on Delaney turf while Redmond and his mob cheerfully turned a blind eye.

There came the awful moment when they had to file past Billy’s nearest and dearest, his mum and the uncle, no brothers, no sisters. Poor bastard. Dolly was in front, shaking Hilda Black’s hand, patting it, saying what a lovely service it had been, the vicar had done Billy proud.

Then it was Annie’s turn.

She clasped Hilda’s podgy hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, dry-mouthed, hating this. ‘He was a good friend to me.’

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.

Hilda went bright red and drew her head back. Then, like a snake shooting venom, she spat full in Annie’s face.

Everyone stood frozen in shock.

‘You!’ she hissed. ‘If it wasn’t for you, my boy would still be alive today! I don’t know how you’ve got the fucking nerve to come here.’

Annie recoiled in horror and disgust.

‘Mrs Black…’ she began, groping in her bag for a hankie to wipe Hilda’s spittle from her face.

But Hilda was on a roll.

‘He was doing some jobs for you, you evil cow. He told me so. He was pleased as punch because you were back. He was always soft on you, the dopy little git. And now look where he’s ended up, look what’s happened! They dragged him through the streets and killed him, and it’s all because of you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Annie, riven with guilt.

Hilda was only telling the truth. But God, it hurt. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.

Hilda spat again, hitting her straight in the face.

‘Now what you gonna do about that?’ yelled Hilda in fury. ‘You gonna get me done too, like poor little Billy? Ain’t that what you people do, when you’re answered back to?’