Goodnight Lady (23 page)

Mariah sat back in her chair and sucked on her teeth. Her white-blonde hair framed her face becomingly and for a second Briony got a glimpse of the woman she had once been, breathtakingly beautiful.

‘I was sorry to hear about Ginelle, she was a good kid. Now then, before you leap out of your chair and start shouting your mouth off, hear me out. I know everything that goes on in this town, I make it my business to. I can find out anything about anyone. Now I had a visitor here, but I need to know a bit more about what’s going on before I tell you who it was and what they wanted. I ain’t known for sitting on any fences, unless it earns me money or peace, so let’s cut the fucking crap and get our cards on the table. What exactly happened with Ginelle, and what threats have you had? Is this all about you taking over other houses or what?’

Briony was having difficulty controlling herself. She knew about Ginelle, this woman knew, and now she wanted to know the score! Briony knew she was trapped. She would have to come clean and hope for the best.

‘How do you know about Ginelle, Mariah? I need to know.’

‘Let’s just say a little bird told me. It’s enough that I know. Now tell me the honest truth and I’ll come out into the open. I think that you and me could do each other a favour here. Let’s see, shall we?’

‘Nellie’s house is in the bag. The death of Ginelle had nothing to do with that, as far as I know. She was delivered in a crate minus parts of her body. Bolger is behind it, but I need to know who’s behind him before I can make a move. And I swear to you now, I take oath, that bastard is living on borrowed time! No one, but no one, touches my girls. Whoever is behind him had better start saying their prayers.’

Mariah smiled then. A real smile. She had heard what she wanted to hear. This little woman was a madam of the old sort. No milkwater sop who would run at the first sign of trouble. Mariah decided she could even get to like the skinny little bitch, given time. She stood up and, going to her drinks table, poured out two generous measures of brandy. Giving one to Briony, she resumed her seat and said: ‘Bolger’s been here, offering me the earth and other things besides. I don’t like him but that’s neither here nor there, I don’t like a lot of people I do business with, but worst of all I don’t trust him. He’s a two-faced ponce, a violent two-faced ponce. He cut Ginelle up, and I won’t forgive him that one. The girl was nothing to do with anything. Then he came here and offered me your houses. He wants me and my muscle on his side. Personally, I don’t want to get involved, but I have to. Because otherwise eventually he’ll want what’s mine. I think I can find out who’s backing him, then together we can wipe them out. Now, what do you have to say?’

Briony smiled at Mariah.

‘I think, Mariah Jurgens, between us we could frighten the life out of the little shit!’

That was exactly what Mariah wanted to hear.

‘I’m going to tell Bolger that I want to meet the man behind him, otherwise no deal. Bolger is a showman, a show off. He’ll enjoy setting up the meet and letting me see how much he’s come up in the world. I’ll relay the information to you and Tommy. Then we decide what to do next. How’s that?’

‘That will suit me fine. Tommy is as anxious to sort this out as I am. We’ve got some pretty impressive muscle on our side.’

This was a threat to Mariah who took it how it was intended. But she didn’t say anything. Briony was giving her fair warning, exactly what she would have done herself.

Raising her glass she said to Briony: ‘I don’t know, girl, what the fuck are we breeding these days? People like Bolger are getting thicker on the ground. Sometimes I hanker back to the good old days when you worked your girls, you took the money, and all the house owners met socially. There’s a new breed out there now and we’ve got to stick together to fight the fuckers at their own game.’

Briony raised her own glass and said, ‘My sentiments exactly.’

The two women sipped their brandy for a while, lost in their own thoughts. The groundwork was done. They had called a truce, felt each other out, and now they would work together to find a solution to all their problems.

 

Evander’s friend and confidant Glennford Randall shook his head as he looked at his friend.

‘I’m telling you, man, that girl spells trouble for you. No white meat ever tasted any different to black. You’re gonna get hurt, I know it.’

Evander sighed heavily, his deep black skin shiny in the lights of the club.

‘Kerry’s different, man. She’s real, something special.’

Glennford laughed. ‘She’s got a pair of tits and a splitarse, she ain’t no different to any other woman in the world! She can get pregnant and, boy, if she does, you’re a dead man.’

Evander watched his friend walk away, his long rangy body loping across the wooden stage. Kerry came out of her dressing room and smiled at him.

‘Why so sad? What are you thinking about?’

Evander looked into her lovely face and felt the familiar tightening in his guts. She was exquisite, she was young, she was exciting, and she was milk white. It was a heady combination.

‘I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, baby. Are we still on for tonight?’

‘Yes, and I have a surprise for you. Bernie’s staying at my mother’s so we have the flat to ourselves. You can stay ’til the morning.’

Evander went to touch her arm when Tommy Lane came bowling up to them.

‘All right, Evander? Listen, Briony’s going to be a bit late tonight but she wants the sets a bit longer. Another couple of numbers in each one, could you manage that?’

Evander and Kerry nodded. Tommy was too caught up in his own affairs to notice the redness of Kerry’s face and neck.

‘The punters like a dance so we thought a few more lively numbers wouldn’t go amiss. Now before I forget, there’s a men’s outfitters in Dean Street and the bloke’s going to measure you boys up for some new stage clothes. At the moment you’re all a bit bland, you know? We thought a nice deep green or a deep blue, whatever. You see the bloke and choose for yourselves. We’ll be picking up the tab so don’t go overboard!’

‘Yes, sir, Mr Lane.’ Evander’s voice held the bland neutrality inherent to a black man and Tommy whacked him on the shoulder and said, ‘For fuck’s sakes, call me Tommy. All this Mr Lane and sir is going to me head!’

He ambled off to find a drink and Evander looked at Kerry. She saw the stark fear in his eyes and felt a lump form in her throat. He was scared of Tommy, was scared of all white men. They slapped you on the back one minute and put you in your place the next. She knew what he was thinking and felt a great sorrow for him.

‘Tommy’s all right, Evander. He means what he said.’

‘I ain’t never met a white man yet who means anything, Kerry. I call him Tommy boy tomorrow in front of his fancy friends and he’ll try and break my head! Believe me, I know.’

‘Not Tommy Lane, Evander, you’re wrong.’ Her voice was soft and reproving and for a second he felt the terrific pull of her, and at the same time was reminded of just what trouble this relationship could bring him. Tommy Lane slapping you on the back and buying your clothes was one thing. Tommy Lane with the knowledge he was sleeping with Kerry would be a different matter entirely.

‘I’ll see you tonight, Evander, won’t I?’

He looked into her little face, full of yearning, and he smiled.

‘’Course you will, sweetheart. Now let’s get on stage before the crowd gets restless!’

Kerry put on her widest smile and walked on to the stage. Evander followed but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

Rupert Charles sat with Jonathan la Billière and a rather pale young man called Dorian. His face lit up at the sight of Briony walking towards his table.

‘Briony darling! Where have you been? We’ve missed you, haven’t we, boys?’

Jonathan stood up as Briony sat down and he winked at her.

‘How did the filming go?’ she asked them. ‘I couldn’t make it, I’m afraid, but I have a lot of faith in you, Rupert.’

She took out a cigarette and placed it in a long black holder. Dorian struck a match and lit it for her. She blew the smoke out into his face and smiled her thanks.

‘Dorian darling, this is Briony Cavanagh. Briony, this is Dorian Carnarvon, the Duke of Tenby’s only son. A darling boy with the most delightful grey eyes, don’t you think?’

Briony smiled absently at the boy and concentrated on Jonathan, the male star of the film.

‘So what’s the score?’

Jonathan grinned and, losing his gentlemanly manner for a moment, said, ‘The girl was young, plump, and knew all the right moves. There’s a reel of film in your office waiting for you. Have a look and tell me what you think.’

‘Is it as good as the other films? The truth now.’

‘Honestly, yes! It’s not bad. We know all the pitfalls now. You have a look and you’ll be pleasantly surprised.’

Briony nodded, satisfied.

‘What happened to you anyway, Briony? I was looking forward to seeing you. I was going to take you out after the shoot.’

Her eyes scanned the club around her as she answered. ‘I had a bit of trouble, but it’s sorted now. Do me a favour, set up another session and I’ll put up the money. I want this pukkah, I want it right.’

He laughed.

‘Do you only ever do business, Briony? Don’t you ever relax?’

She looked into his face and he saw the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. It occurred to him then that this woman had a lot on her mind of which he knew nothing. For the first time she frightened him. Her reputation had preceded her, yet on his first meeting he had been pleasantly surprised. Looking at her now, he was convinced she was capable of anything.

Briony woke up to a terrific thumping on her bedroom door.

‘What’s going on!’ Tommy opened his eyes and stared at her.

‘It’s your mother, Briony, she’s downstairs with Rosalee.’ Cissy’s voice was loud and Briony screwed up her eyes and groaned.

‘All right, tell her I’ll be down in a minute.’

‘Your mother’s like a bleeding jinx, always around when no one wants her.’

Briony laughed gently.

‘Tell me about it.’ She pulled herself out of the bed and, going to her wardrobe, took out a wrap of heavily embroidered Chinese silk. Her long hair was hanging down her back in tangles and she began to brush it furiously to try and tame it.

Tommy got out of the bed and scratched his belly while he stretched. ‘I feel knackered.’

‘Stay in bed. I’ll get Cissy to bring you up some tea.’

‘Nah, I’ve got to see some people today.’ He sat on the side of the bed and closed his eyes.

‘Who have you got to see?’

‘Oh, no one in particular, just a few mates. Tell Cissy I’ll have that tea now, if you don’t mind. And tell your mother not to get me up in future.’

Briony grinned.

‘As if she’d take any notice!’

 

‘What kind of time do you call this, still in bed at ten-thirty in the morning. My God, child, you must be raking it in.’

‘And good morning to you and all, Mum.’ She knelt down and kissed Rosalee’s face. ‘Hello, Rosie darling.’

Rosalee clapped her hands together and said: ‘Bri, Bri.’

Molly tutted loudly and poured her out a cup of tea Cissy had brought them. ‘I don’t know, Briony, you’re a lady of leisure, sitting in your dressing gown like Lady Astor, and the day nearly over.’

‘Oh, Mum, put a sock in it, for Christ’s sake! My clubs don’t shut ’til three in the morning, then I have to do the takings among other things, so please give me five minutes’ peace. Now what do you want and how much is it gonna rush me?’

Molly screwed up her eyes and gritted her teeth. ‘What makes you think I’m after something?’

Briony did laugh then, a real laugh that burst out of her tiny frame and caused Rosie to laugh with her.

‘If I see you and her before noon, then you’re after a few quid. Tell me what you want and let’s...’ The sentence was lost in a long loud yawn.

‘I came here this morning to tell you that Eileen’s getting married.’

Molly had the grim satisfaction of seeing Briony’s eyes widen. ‘There, I thought that would put a stop to your gallop! Joshua’s popped the question and she’s said yes. I thought me and you could have a little chat about the do. That’s all.’

‘The do?’ Briony’s voice was puzzled.

‘The reception! For the love of Mary, would you pay attention, girl! She’s getting married and I want it to be the biggest thing this side of the water. I want her to go off in style. The way you lot are going, she’ll be the only one of my daughters wedded and legal.’ Her voice became wheedling. ‘I want me eldest girl to have a good weddin’, Bri. I want her to be set up like a queen.’

‘Our Eileen getting married? Bloody hell! Who’d have thought it.’

Molly wiped Rosalie’s face with a hankie and said, ‘I’ll never marry off this one, will I? And you living over the broom, and our Bernie without a man in sight. As for Kerry, well, she would marry her voice if she could. I want our Eileen to have something special. After all that happened to her, and all her troubles...’

Briony put up her hand for silence.

‘Look, Mum, she can have whatever you like, so drop the sales pitch. You book it and I’ll pay for it. In fact, if you like we can have the reception here, I don’t mind. My garden’s huge, we could easily get fifty, sixty people here no trouble. Mrs H can do the food and Cissy can bring in a few girls to help serve. What do you think?’

Molly smiled smugly.

‘You’re a good girl, Briony, you’re a kind and decent girl. Only a saint would look after her sisters like you do.’

Briony drank the rest of the tea and poured herself another cup before she said, ‘Why do I get the feeling, Mother, that you’ve just mugged me off?’