Black Widow. Jessie Keane

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      Dolly recoiled in shock. ‘Jesus, no.’

      Annie nodded dumbly. She looked spent, Dolly thought, as if all this had drained the life from her. Dark shadows under her eyes. Her lips parched and cracked. Her skin sallow. This wasn’t the polished, controlled woman she knew. This was a beaten stranger. Dolly wondered how she would cope with such a bucketload of grief, though. Her kid snatched, her husband topped…that was enough to finish anyone, even the strongest.

      ‘You mustn’t tell anyone that Max is dead,’ said Annie. ‘I mean it, Doll. No one.’

      ‘You know I won’t. What about Jonjo?’ asked Dolly. ‘Jeanette was with you, so where’s Jonjo?’

      Annie swallowed and shook her head.

      Dolly was silent, gobsmacked.

      ‘Look, I tell you what,’ she said at last. ‘You get washed and dressed, then we’ll think again, okay?’

      Annie looked at her. Dolly was the best friend she had ever had, and she knew it. Annie was quite likely bringing trouble to her door, and many another would have turned her away, but not Dolly. She could almost have cried at Dolly’s kindness, but she held her emotions in tight check. Dolly would be embarrassed anyway by a display of emotion. She always had been. You’d never get hugs and kisses from Doll, but what you would get was firm support from a genuine ally.

      ‘Thanks, Dolly. Can I borrow something to wear? All I’ve got in the case is sandals and summer dresses and swimming cossies. Don’t ask me why I brought any of it back. I don’t think my head was right at the time.’

      ‘Help yourself. Anything you want. Oh, and Annie…’ Suddenly Dolly looked awkward and anxious. ‘I had to phone Redmond Delaney, tell him you’re here. Sorry. You’re a mate, but I can’t be seen to be disrespecting the Delaneys, not on their own turf. I didn’t want him just hearing about it from Ross, do you understand? I have to be careful.’

      Annie nodded. ‘Don’t give it another thought, Doll. I know you had to tell Redmond. That goes without saying.’

      And Redmond ain’t going to be very pleased about it, she thought.

      Dolly’s tense expression relaxed with relief.

      ‘We’d better get you some breakfast,’ she said. ‘You come down when you’re ready, Annie love. No rush. I’ll listen for the phone, don’t worry.’

      Dolly left the bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. She felt embarrassed at her own inability to help more. All hell was being set loose in the poor bint’s life, and she was telling her not to worry.

      ‘Doll!’

      At Annie’s call, she reopened the door and stuck her head around it.

      ‘Yes, Annie love?’

      ‘Does Billy Black still call in?’

      ‘Billy? Of course he does. Every week, regular. He hasn’t got many places to go where they’ll make him welcome, the poor bastard.’

      ‘When he calls, I want to speak to him.’

      ‘Okay,’ said Dolly, and went off downstairs with a troubled mind to see to breakfast for the girls. As she passed the telephone in the hall, it jingled. She looked at it, picked it up, listened to the dial tone. Then she shrugged and put it back down.

      When Annie got downstairs, she found Dolly there eating toast and chatting to her ‘girls’. There was Darren, a slim blond young man wearing a flamboyant scarf and a yellow shirt, and to her surprise Ellie was there too, dark haired and still pretty, but porked up to double her usual size.

      All conversation stopped when Annie opened the door and stood there. She’d borrowed a plain black shift dress from Dolly’s wardrobe, some tights and some plain black courts. The shoes pinched, and the dress fitted where it touched, but she didn’t give a shit.

      ‘Gordon Bennett, if it ain’t Annie Bailey!’ said Darren, getting to his feet and coming round to give her a hug of welcome. Christ, he looked as thin as a ghost!

      ‘Carter,’ said Annie automatically.

      ‘Gawd yes. I forgot you were playing with the big boys now.’ Darren rolled his eyes and kissed her cheek. Camp as a row of pink tents, that was Darren, and she’d always loved his quirky ways.

      Annie pulled back and looked at him. He was more than slim—she felt his ribs when she hugged him. And he looked strained.

      ‘Hello Annie,’ said Ellie, coming forward for a hug. Annie gave a faint smile, suppressing her amazement at seeing Ellie back here. Dolly had once kicked Ellie out for her backstabbing habits, but here she was again, feet firmly under the table.

      Annie hugged her, trying not to think that Darren and Ellie looked like Jack Sprat and his wife, one skinny, one fat, like a comedy double act.

      ‘You’re both looking good,’ she lied.

      She pulled out a spare chair and sat down. She saw a look pass between Darren and Dolly, and Ellie bit her lip as if stifling something.

      ‘Have some toast,’ said Dolly, pushing a plate towards her. She poured tea from the pot into a spare mug, and added milk. ‘You look like you need a feed-up.’

      Annie kept shtoom. If it had been just Darren and Dolly there, she might have spoken now about Layla and Max, but Ellie was sitting there with her ears flapping so it wasn’t a good idea. Ellie had always been totally in the pocket of the Delaneys, and this was their manor. There had never been any love lost between the Delaneys and the Carters. And now she was a Carter—maybe the only one left.

       Max.

       Layla.

      Her guts clenched with pain.

      Annie stifled her grief and fear and thought instead about the Delaneys. Redmond Delaney and his sister Orla had once been good to her. But she was convinced that all that came to an end the minute Max Carter put a wedding ring on her finger. So in front of Ellie she would keep it quiet. She looked down at her wedding ring now and felt the pain rising up again, nearly choking her.

      Max’s ring with its bright gold and its solid slab of lapis lazuli was still there on her thumb. It was loose. She’d have to be careful not to lose it. Better to put it on the gold chain Max had given her, along with the gold heart inscribed Love you forever, the one she always wore, the one she was wearing around her neck right now.

      She picked up a bit of soggy toast and gnawed at it. She had to eat. Couldn’t face the idea of food, but she had to eat. Had to stay strong. She was no use to Layla in a weakened state. She sipped her tea and forced down the toast, and Dolly nodded her approval.

      ‘I look like shit in that dress,’ said Dolly. ‘But on you, it’s good. I only keep it for funerals.’

      Annie’s eyes locked with Dolly’s as they both remembered when Annie had last seen Dolly wearing the dress. Connie’s funeral. Annie’s mum, dead of alcohol poisoning, being laid to rest.

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