Jessie Keane: Black Widow

‘What is it?’ Annie asked her curiously.

‘Ruthie’s phone number,’ said Kath with a grin.

Two weeks later, Annie granted Darren his dying wish. A gleaming pair of black horses pulled a glass-sided hearse bearing his flower-strewn coffin through the streets of the East End. The funeral director stepped gravely ahead of the horses, his highly polished black top hat tucked neatly beneath his arm as he walked at a stately pace ahead of the cortège.

The pavements on either side of the roads down which the funeral procession passed were packed with silent, respectful mourners and, as the hearse passed by, everyone bowed their heads. The word had gone out: Annie had squared it with Redmond Delaney. Even though it was taking place on Delaney turf, this was a Carter funeral; the man they were burying today was a friend of Annie Carter’s, and respect was due.

Dressed head to toe in black, Annie Carter walked with Dolly, Ellie, Aretha, Chris, and Ross behind the hearse. She’d left Layla with Kath, and she was pleased to see that already Kath was making changes, tidying up, taking more pride in her appearance.

Darren had no family, or at least no family that he had ever cared to acknowledge-although Dolly had contacted his parents and told them the funeral was today, they hadn’t shown up. So for today he belonged to the Carter family, he was one of their own, and Annie was proud to give him the send-off he deserved.

Darren would have loved this , she thought.

Thinking of Darren choked her up, but there was love and humour there along with the sadness. She felt such admiration for the way he had risked himself to save Layla, such gratitude for the sacrifice he had made, and overwhelming anger at those bastards who had taken him away from them.

But he had been dying, she told herself. Darren had chosen his route out of this world, and truthfully they all knew it was a better route than the one that would have awaited him if nature had been allowed to take its course.

So for today she had to be at peace with this. And today she felt, as the sun broke through the clouds and shone down upon the procession as it wound its way into the churchyard, that she was burying more than Darren. She felt that today she was also saying goodbye to Rufio, and Inez, and even to loutish Jonjo and-yes-even to Max.

She felt that she had come a long way and gone through fire and fury to get to this place. And now it was time to say goodbye. Time to let it all go, and move on with her life.

All through the service she thought about what that might mean. So much crap had gone down recently and it had taken time for it all to settle. But settle it had. Kath was one hundred per cent better off without that toerag Jimmy. Annie knew that for a fact. She still had scores to settle with him, but that would come. Constantine had put the word out that Jimmy was to be found. Jimmy Bond was toast. He just didn’t know it yet.

So everything was working out. There was sadness today, but there was also pride and joy. At last the service came to an end and the pallbearers, led by the vicar, carried Darren’s coffin out into the brilliant sunshine outside the church.

The friends stood around the grave and saw Darren buried there with full honours-buried as a hero, a Carter boy, a beloved companion. Annie felt the pangs of soul-eating sadness, but she remained dry-eyed and straight-backed, because everyone from Carter soil was clustered into the graveyard and their eyes were upon her, the boss of the manor, and she was expected to set an example, to behave with dignity and grace.

She threw one single dark-red rose down on to the coffin, along with a silent blessing, then she walked away, out of the graveyard and into the sunshine, and got into Max’s big black Jag-now hers-and told Tony what she had never wanted to tell him. It was time.

There was no way to dress it up. She sat in the back of the car with him in the front and she said: ‘Tone…Max is dead.’

He was silent, watching her in the mirror.

‘Jonjo too,’ she went on. ‘They were hit in Majorca when the Byrne clan snatched Layla. Jimmy Bond was behind the whole thing. He wanted to take over here.’

Tony looked down. Then his eyes lifted and met hers again.

‘I could see it was bad,’ he said. ‘But not as bad as that. I’m sorry, Mrs Carter. Max Carter was the best.’

‘Yeah,’ said Annie with a gulp. ‘He was. Now, the question I have to ask you, Tone, is are you with me? Or are you bailing out?’

Tony stared at her steadily. ‘I’m insulted you gotta ask me that, Mrs Carter.’

Annie smiled a little at that. ‘You’re with me, then?’

‘Yeah. One hundred per cent.’

‘Okay.’ She let out a sigh. ‘Let’s get over to Queenie’s, then. Time to tell the boys.’

The boys were waiting for her. As she came up the stairs and entered the room with the big table and the chairs all around it, they all got to their feet. Her boys. Jackie Tulliver, rat-faced little Jackie with a cigar clutched in his nicotine-stained hand, had let them in and followed her and Tony up here.

Annie went to the head of the table-Max’s place, now hers-and looked around at them all. At lanky Gary Tooley, solid, muscular Steve Taylor, Deaf Derek and Benny and the others. All snappy dressers, the Carter boys. Max and his brother Jonjo had set the style of the gang. Immaculate. Dark. Fucking scary.

‘Sit down, boys,’ she said, and took off her black coat.

They sat down, looking expectantly at her. Tony remained standing behind Annie’s chair, arms folded, face grim. She had told him what she was going to do, and he knew there could be trouble.

‘We was wondering where Jimmy’s got to,’ said Steve, looking hard-eyed at her.

‘And when Jonjo’ll be coming back,’ said Gary, eyes sharp as a shit-house rat’s as he stared at her.

Annie took a breath. ‘Jonjo won’t be coming back,’ she said flatly. She looked down at her hands, clasped together on the tabletop. ‘Neither will Max.’

She looked up at their frozen faces. ‘There was a hit in Majorca. Max and Jonjo were taken out. Jimmy Bond was behind it. He was in with the Byrne family, they did the hit and snatched our daughter and they wanted me to pay half a million quid to get her back.’

Jackie Tulliver let out a low whistle.

‘Holy fuck ,’ muttered Benny.

There was a thick silence.

Then Steve said: ‘Did you pay it?’

‘I didn’t have it; how the fuck could I pay it? I didn’t know where Max stashed his cash and Jimmy had all but cleaned the firm out by the time I got back here.’

‘You didn’t say a fucking word about this,’ said Gary.

‘I didn’t dare. They had Layla. I had to find a big source of money, fast. And that was Constantine Barolli.’

‘Jesus H Christ in a sidecar,’ breathed Gary, exchanging a look with Steve. ‘Sure, the firm’s done a bit of legit business with him up West and that’s okay, but taking money off the guy? He’s fucking Mafia, you crazy?’

‘I thought so, but then I was desperate enough to risk it. And Jimmy thought so too, but only because he was getting worried because I was calling in the big guns. The first time I asked him to contact Barolli’s mob, he didn’t do it. He said they’d try to take over the manor, but really he was shit-scared they’d mess up his grand plan. I think Jimmy believed I would know where Max kept a large stash of money. I didn’t. I still don’t.’

‘What was his plan?’ asked Deaf Derek with a frown. ‘Jimmy, I mean.’

‘Have the manor all to himself. No Jonjo, no Max. Just him.’

Silence fell in the room.