Ruthless - [36]

31

Annie Carter’s old friend Dolly Farrell was in her flat above the Palermo club, court shoes kicked off, pale-pink suit jacket with the big shoulder pads flung aside, skirt unbuttoned, feet up on the sofa, taking a well-earned mid-evening break when she got the call.

‘Damn that thing,’ she said as the phone started ringing.

She loved her job and she’d been doing it for a long, long time. Back in the day, she’d managed all three of the Carter clubs, but these days it was just the Palermo. Her old mate Ellie Brown was in charge at the Shalimar, with her husband Chris, while Gary Tooley was overseeing the running of the Blue Parrot.

The clubs had seen their fair share of re-inventions over the years. They’d gone from old-world nightclubs to discos, and now they were lap-dancing venues. Trade was good. Because the prices were high, the punters were, on the whole, very well behaved. But Jesus, couldn’t a girl get a moment’s peace…?

Dolly swung her legs to the floor, patted her big blonde (just a little grey in there now) up-do and picked up the phone. And heard Layla telling her something unbelievable. So maybe she hadn’t heard her properly.

‘What did you just say?’ Dolly clamped the phone more firmly to her right ear and covered her left to stifle the din coming up from the club below, where Whitney was belting out ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’. ‘Speak up a bit Layla, can’t you? The line’s bad and the music’s doing my head in.’

‘I said,’ repeated Layla, ‘that there was a sort of incident today, Auntie Dolly. In the park.’

‘Wha- An incident? What sort of incident?’

‘A man tried to grab me.’

Dolly sat down sharply, her stomach tight with anxiety. She wasn’t Layla’s aunt, not really; Layla was her goddaughter, but she’d been calling her ‘Auntie Dolly’ since she was small. ‘Grab you?’ she echoed, stunned.

‘I got away. Only just, though.’

Dolly took a breath. ‘You told your mother about this?’

‘She’s in the States, due home in a few hours. I didn’t want to worry her.’ Layla was about to mention the shamrock, but stopped herself. That was one weirdness she didn’t feel inclined to share. Dolly might really freak out if she did.

‘You told the police?’

‘No.’

‘You alone in the house?’

‘Rosa’s here.’

Like that was reassuring. Rosa the housekeeper was ancient, deaf and panicked at the least provocation. ‘Does she know what happened?’

‘I couldn’t tell her that.’

‘I’ll give Steve a ring.’

‘No. Don’t. It was probably just some pervert…’

‘Just some pervert?’ Dolly snapped. ‘And is that something to be taken lightly? I’ll call Steve, he’ll-’

‘No. Don’t. I wanted to talk to someone, that’s all, so I phoned you. Please don’t go calling Steve.’

Dolly rolled her eyes in exasperation. She loved Layla to bits, but the girl was so straight it made your teeth ache. She admired her for making her own way in the world, for working hard at being her own person – and putting up with the taunts that went with the territory.

It couldn’t be easy for her. Layla utterly rejected the sort of life her parents led. She refused to work in the family business, even though her dad would have liked her to. It seemed to Dolly that Layla’s whole life so far had been about distancing herself from her parents. Not that surprising, given that Annie had once been in court for running a posh knocking shop. And her father was Max Carter, who was… well, never mind.

She didn’t like the sound of this ‘incident’ one bit. Much as Layla tried to, she couldn’t escape her family connections. And in her parents’ world, there were times when muscle was called for. This seemed like such a time to Dolly.

‘Promise you won’t call him,’ said Layla. ‘Promise me.’

‘Are you going to tell your father about this?’

‘Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.’

‘Layla.’

‘I don’t want trouble.’

Sounds like you got it anyway, thought Dolly.

‘Tell him,’ ordered Dolly.

‘I don’t-’

‘Layla!’ Dolly’s voice was sharp. ‘Wake up and smell the bloody coffee. You are who you are. Which means you got to be careful. So tell him. OK?’

Layla sighed. ‘OK.’

‘Tell him.’

‘OK, I will.’ She wouldn’t.

‘Be careful.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

‘’Night then, honey.’

‘’Night.’

32

‘You know what, Rufus? You can be such a fucking fool sometimes.’

‘I thought…’ Rufus was floundering under this onslaught. She was pacing back and forth in front of him, spitting with rage. News of his failed attempt to snatch Layla Carter had not gone down well.

‘I told you I’d see to this. That I would be in charge here, that I would decide what was to happen, when it was to happen.’

‘But-’

‘You’ve tipped them off! How could you be so bloody stupid?’

‘I haven’t tipped them off,’ he objected. He felt wounded, through and through. His eye was smarting, he was aching all over from where he’d struck the pavement. The girl had run rings round him and now his Orla was giving out about it, like he was a moron.

Rufus the DOOFUS.

But he’d been trying to help, that was all.

She stopped her pacing and, breathing hard, came to a halt in front of his chair.

‘Here’s what’s going to happen,’ she said, her eyes wild with anger and determination. ‘