The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4. Jessie Keane

know you fired the gun. I took it out and smelled it. It had been fired.’

      ‘You remember there was a break-in in the annexe, and Mum was there and her heart gave out with the fright of it.’

      ‘I’ll never forget it.’

      ‘Well I found the ones who did it. They were two nobodies from the sticks, the Bowes brothers. They’d been paid by the Delaneys.’

      ‘They confessed?’

      ‘Yes, Bruv. Before they died.’ Max’s eyes blazed with the memory. ‘I traced their uncle who ran the pub where they drank. My boy down at Smithfield made the uncle talk, and he fingered his nephews. Not that he had many fucking fingers left at the end of it. So the night Tory Delaney died, the night before I married Ruthie, I was busy. I was conducting a bit of business with the Bowes scum.’

      ‘You shot them?’ gasped Eddie.

      Max nodded.

      Eddie gave a weird little laugh. ‘Then … oh fuck me, this is almost funny … I’m dying for nothing.’

      ‘You’re not dying,’ said Max. ‘Put that right out of your head.’

      ‘Sure.’ Eddie gave a faint smile and lay back. Max stared at Eddie’s face and felt the tightness in his throat, the ache in his belly. He’d never cried in his life, but seeing Eddie like this really hurt him. If this was the Delaneys, he’d rip their fucking heads off one by one.

      Then suddenly pus was coming out of Eddie, out of every orifice it seemed. Pouring from his nose, ears, mouth, even – Jesus – from his eyes. Max sprang off the bed with a cry of disgust and roared for the nurse to come. She did, and shooed him away. Ruthie stood in the doorway biting her knuckle to stop herself from screaming at the sight before her. Eddie was convulsing, it seemed to go on for hours but it was seconds, just seconds. Then he was still. The nurse was pounding at his chest, but it was too late for that, Max knew it was too late for anything.

      Eddie was dead.

       18

      ‘I’ve decided to open up the front room,’ said Annie to the girls and Darren as they sat with her around the kitchen table. She’d been at Celia’s place for nearly nine months now, and it was starting to feel like home, like her place.

      ‘Celia never used that room,’ said Dolly, tapping fag ash into an ashtray and taking another deep drag. ‘She kept it for best.’

      Trust Dolly to put forward reasons why not. ‘I know that,’ said Annie. ‘But I’ve had an idea. I’m going to do it up and throw monthly parties in there.’

      ‘Parties?’ Darren looked blank. His shiners were almost gone now, Annie saw. He was back to his good-looking self, ready to work again.

      ‘Parties for the discerning clientele,’ said Annie. She’d been awake half the night thinking this through. ‘We’ll charge a fee on the door. A steep one, to keep out the riff-raff and the youngsters, they’re always trouble. We’ve got plenty of established clients, we don’t even need to advertise, they’ll pass it on word of mouth.’

      ‘You’d have to watch the parking outside,’ said Ellie, pouring more tea and diving into the biscuit tin again. ‘Celia always worried about that. She was very careful not to upset the neighbours.’

      ‘We’ll tell our clients to park around the surrounding streets. They usually do anyway when they come here, they don’t want to draw attention to themselves any more than we do. Go easy on those biscuits, Ellie, you’re getting an arse on you.’

      Ellie blushed and put the biscuit back.

      ‘I don’t see why we can’t just carry on as before,’ said Dolly, smirking at Ellie. ‘It worked for Celia, why go changing things around?’

      ‘When Celia comes back …’ began Annie.

      ‘You mean if, girl,’ said Aretha.

      ‘When Celia comes back she’s going to find this place humming along like a fucking Rolls-Royce.’ Annie looked around at her little gang of workers. ‘We still offer the massages and the personal services, should our clients require them.’

      Dolly smirked at Darren now. ‘Bad luck, Darren, you’ve got to keep putting postcards in the post-office window. That ugly bloke in there fancies you something rotten.’

      ‘In his dreams,’ sniffed Darren.

      ‘Just don’t bend down to pick up your paper,’ said Dolly.

      ‘Last time he asked me to go into the back room with him,’ said Darren with a shudder. ‘Said he needed a hand lifting some heavy boxes.’

      ‘Whatever he was thinking of lifting, I don’t think it was boxes, honey,’ said Aretha with a big grin.

      ‘Aretha will put the ads in, she’ll be safe enough,’ said Annie. ‘I’ve reworded them a bit. How’s this? French polishing carried out with discretion and skill. And the phone number. And this one with the flute lessons, we’ll put one of those in too.’

      The assembled company looked at the cards and nodded begrudging approval. Everyone on the street knew that French polishing indicated chargeable sexual favours, and that flute lessons were blowjobs.

      ‘We’ll have themed parties,’ said Annie. ‘Lay on booze and food, music on the radiogram, it’ll be good. Any questions?’

      She waited for the protests to come. Who are you to give orders? What makes you think you can just take charge here? But, much to her surprise, nobody said a word. She couldn’t quite believe it.

      And what if she’d got it wrong? What if the party idea was no good?

      They’d laugh their bollocks off at her and she knew it.

      The phone was ringing in the hallway. ‘Okay then, that’s all for now,’ she said, and went out into the hall.

      Annie watched them go upstairs and then snatched up the phone. ‘Hello?’

      ‘Tell me you’d consider a nude sitting. Just one,’ said Kieron.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Heartless cow. I’ve an exhibition in two months and it needs a centrepiece, and that centrepiece has to be you in all your glory, how about it?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I told you, the money’s good.’

      ‘I don’t need the money, Kieron, I’ve got another job.’

      ‘Then do it as a favour to a pal. Come on, Annie. It’ll be the ruin of the exhibition without it. Am I to tell Redmond or Pat that you aren’t co-operating with my requests, is that it?’

      Annie’s good-natured smile vanished. ‘That isn’t funny, Kieron.’

      ‘Sorry. Forgive me, but you’re talking to a desperate man. Come on. You’ll be safe. I’ve no desire to jump on your lovely bones.’

      Why not? Annie wondered, feeling affronted. She knew he was speaking the truth. He wouldn’t abuse the situation. She wondered if she’d mind if he did. She hadn’t even thought about sex since that one night with Max. Ah, not true, she’d thought about sex with Max over and over again.

      ‘I’d be embarrassed,’ said Annie.

      ‘Think of me like a doctor. I’m not eyeing you up, I’m painting you, for fuck’s sake. Ah, come on. Didn’t I show you the other day that you can trust me?’

      Annie wasn’t so sure about that. He’d looked really riled up when she’d left the studio last time. But maybe he’d only been playing with her.

      ‘Kieron,