Jessie Keane - Ruthless

Precious stepped out into the hall, closing the door after her. Then she came back in, looked at Layla, smiled her gorgeous wide-mouthed smile, and closed the door by leaning against it. She stood there for a moment, pinning Layla with the warmth of her smile, then she stepped forward, away from the door, and walked into the room.

‘You see?’ she asked Layla. ‘That’s the nailer. Try it.’

Layla crawled from the bed and did it. Went out the door, came back in. Leaned against the door. Looked at Precious.

‘Smile,’ said Precious.

Layla smiled.

‘No, that’s a grimace not a smile. Go out and try again.’

Layla did.

‘Better,’ said Precious. ‘Needs work, but definitely better. Now we’re going to have to think about accessories.’

‘Holy shit, how much more-’ said Layla.

‘Come on! On your feet, Layla Carter. We’re not done yet. I haven’t spoken to you about compliments, have I?’

‘What about them?’

‘How to accept them.’

‘OK. How?’ No one had ever complimented her. She did accounts. She worked, and when she wasn’t working, she worked out.

‘Graciously. Don’t deflect them. Say “thank you”, as if compliments are your due.’

‘I never get compliments.’

‘Trust me – you will now.’

That evening, while Precious and Destiny and China were working downstairs in the club, Ellie waved Layla to her office.

‘Your mum’s on the phone,’ she said.

Eagerly Layla took the phone. She was looking forward to telling Annie about her shopping trip, about what a total delight it was spending time with Precious. She opened her mouth to speak.

‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ demanded Annie.

‘Wha-?’ Layla froze.

‘You were out shopping with one of the girls this afternoon. For fuck’s sake, Layla. Will you be told?’

Layla felt her heart sink. All the fun of the day was gone in an instant.

‘I had Dad’s people with me,’ she said, instinctively folding an arm protectively across her middle, then catching herself. Was it any wonder her deportment was defensive?

‘They shouldn’t have let you go out like that, it was stupid. I’ll be having a word.’

Layla said nothing. She stared at the floor.

‘Layla?’ said Annie.

‘What?’

‘We’ve been talking about it, and we think it’s time for you to come home. Your dad’s here, Alberto’s here. This is the safest place for you to be now. Where we can keep a closer eye on you.’

Come home? Layla stared at the phone. She’d been having the time of her life here at the club with the girls. She’d never known what it was to have friends until now. The last thing she wanted to do was leave.

But Dad was in Holland Park, and she loved spending time with him.

And Alberto was there too. Which sent a shiver through her. She wanted to see him, of course she did. But she was anxious about it, too. She was always hyper-aware of her own mortal failings around the godlike presence of Alberto. Despite Precious’s tutelage, she was afraid of making a spectacular prat of herself.

‘I don’t know…’ she said, angry at herself, aware that she’d fucked up. Going back to work, shopping with Precious – she’d brought this sudden recall down on her own head.

‘Tone’s going to come and get you tomorrow morning at ten. OK?’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mum. What if it’s not OK?’ she asked irritably.

‘Tough. Be ready, and don’t arse about in the meantime. No more trips out. I don’t want to hear that you’ve been seen out on the town tonight. Because if I do, there’ll be trouble.’

Layla heard the click as her mother hung up the phone.

‘Bollocks!’ she shouted, and tossed the receiver back on the cradle.

Ellie was staring at her. ‘Bad news?’ she asked.

Layla took a breath. ‘I’m going back to Holland Park tomorrow morning at ten. Orders from my mother – otherwise known as She Who Must Be Obeyed.’

‘Well, that’ll be nice, won’t it?’ said Ellie, adopting a cheery tone in the hope of wiping that unhappy expression off Layla’s face.

‘Oh yeah, fucking fantastic,’ said Layla, and stormed off to her room.

‘Oh shit! Oh no! Oh fuck !’ Benny O’Connor cried out when he saw Max Carter coming towards his hospital bed.

Benny was in a small side room on his own, and Max thought that this was convenient. At the nurses’ station he’d told them he was Benny’s brother, and they had directed him to Benny’s room. Max pushed the door closed behind him and lunged forward, snatching from Benny’s hand the button that would summon a nurse.

Benny fell back on the pillows. His injured feet were concealed beneath a cage that had a hospital blanket draped across it. Sweat popped out on Benny’s face as he stared at the darkly grinning man looming over him.

‘Hi, Benny,’ said Max, setting down a bag of grapes. ‘How’s the feet?’

‘What do you want?’ said Benny, panting with fright.

‘For you to stop making a noise would be a good start.’ Max sat down cosily on the edge of Benny’s bed. ‘One more peep out of you and there could be a terrible accident before those nurses out there can reach you.’

Benny lay back, eyes wide with terror. He believed it.

‘Now, where were we?’ Max gave it some thought. ‘Oh yeah. You were telling me about Rufus. Who came over from Ireland with Orla. That right?’

‘I told you, he’s staying in the flat above Partyland.’

‘Only he wasn’t. The place has been empty for ages. So that was a cold trail. And I don’t like cold trails, Benny. Cold trails upset me. I want to know where Rufus is.’

‘But I thought he was there .’

‘Really?’ Max was casually lifting away the blanket from the frame protecting Benny’s feet. Underneath it, both feet were bandaged up like a mummy’s.

‘What are you doing?’ whined Benny.

‘Just checking. That must hurt like a bastard.’

‘Wha-?’

Max slapped a hand over Benny’s mouth and then pushed his thumb hard up against where Benny had taken the first shot in the foot. Benny went puce, sweat erupting on his brow. A low groan of anguish seeped out of him.

‘Tell me where Rufus Malone is,’ said Max, turning his attention to the other foot.

Benny mumbled against Max’s hand.

Max lifted his hand. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know where he is. I swear, I thought he was there, ’ sobbed Benny.

‘Oh dear,’ said Max, and slapped his hand back over Benny’s mouth. Benny writhed, but couldn’t get away. Max pressed hard on the other foot. Blood sprang up, tinting the bandages bright red.

‘Mmph,’ said Benny.

‘Pardon?’ Max lifted his hand.

‘I don’t know where Rufus is,’ panted Benny. ‘Oh Jesus, please believe me. He told me Partyland. I heard a rumour that he had a place out on the marshes, but I don’t know where exactly.’

Max looked at Benny, who seemed to be on the verge of puking his guts up. Then he got to his feet. ‘Eat your grapes,’ he said. ‘They’re good for you.’

With that, he left.

Staff Nurse Julia Foster was irritable. She’d come on duty at six a.m., thinking she’d have time for a nice cup of tea, catch her breath, have a bit of a natter, then on to business. But her schedule was already fucked. Thanks to pea-brained Susan Challis, who’d let in some total stranger last night because he claimed to be Bullet Case’s brother.

Shootings were always reported to the police, even if accidental. This one didn’t look accidental, but Bullet Case – Benny O’Connor – claimed it was. That was all he would say on the matter. That it was an accident, over and over again.