The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4. Jessie Keane

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СКАЧАТЬ it steadied her somehow. And now she had a face to put to the voice. Handsome, chilly Redmond Delaney. Twin to Orla and brother to sweet and scatty Kieron – not to mention that disgusting lout Pat.

      ‘I’m very well, Mr Delaney. And you?’

      ‘Perfectly fine, thank you. How is business?’

      ‘I’m going to expand,’ said Annie.

      ‘Indeed?’

      ‘The parties are going so well I’m going to have them three times a month. We can’t cope with the demand and we don’t want too many punters in here at any one time.’

      ‘That’s good news, Miss Bailey.’

      ‘Also, I’ve been thinking.’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Quite a few of our clients are prosperous professionals, Mr Delaney. They need a place to go that’s close to the City – to Whitehall.’

      ‘I see.’

      ‘So in addition to this business, I’m also planning to rent an apartment – a nice one – perhaps in Mayfair?’

      ‘That will be expensive.’

      ‘Not if you chip in half the rent.’

      There was a short silence before he came back: ‘We’ll need to renegotiate my cut.’

      ‘That goes without saying,’ said Annie, who had already thought all this through.

      ‘By the very nature of the business, the rentals may have to be short-term. If you are not in our area other interests may come into play. Neighbours may have more influence. You will have to be cautious. And extremely discreet.’

      ‘Yes, I do realize that.’

      ‘Find a suitable property and we’ll talk again, Miss Bailey.’

      ‘Thank you, Mr Delaney.’

      ‘Was there anything else?’

      Annie glanced over at Chris, sitting there like Buddha in the corner. Not the time or the place to tell Redmond about her suspicions regarding Pat, she thought. Maybe Redmond knew, anyway. Maybe Redmond didn’t care.

      ‘No, there’s nothing else.’

      ‘Goodbye then.’

      Ruthie was right, Annie thought. She was sitting on a powder keg. One dropped spark, and pow! A feeling of fatalism was coming over her. Sooner or later it was all going to erupt around her. But for now, she was alive. She was in charge. She was Madam Annie. The minute she put the phone down she shouted up the stairs for Ellie. A dark head appeared over the banister.

      ‘Get smartly dressed, Ellie,’ said Annie. Ellie knew that ‘smart’ meant ‘nothing tarty’. Ellie could look like a novice nun when she set her mind to it. Her ‘novice nun’ was in fact very popular with some of the clients, nearly as popular as her ‘schoolgirl’. Annie had every confidence in her ability to appear demure. ‘We’re going up West to do some business.’

      ‘Jesus H Christ in a sidecar,’ said Ellie two and a half hours later. Annie gave her a sharp nudge. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘But look at it, Annie. Just fucking-well look at this place.’

      Annie was looking. She was looking and she was wondering what it would be like to actually live here. It was a high-ceilinged, bright and incredibly big apartment set in a gorgeous block on the corner of Oxford Street and Park Street. Buck House was just up the road. So was the Ritz, just a step away in Piccadilly. The Houses of Parliament were close by too. It was a perfect place in a perfect location. There was a private balcony and even porterage.

      ‘Someone to carry your stuff up for you,’ said Annie when Ellie gave her a questioning look.

      There was a lift. There were two beautiful bathrooms. The apartment was furnished in luxurious gold and pale blue tones, offset by a warm, muted cream. It was the most exquisite, the most truly luscious place Annie had ever seen. It damn near brought tears to her eyes, it was so lovely.

      ‘So ladies – what do you think?’ asked the estate agent, emerging from one of the bathrooms and beaming from ear to ear.

      Christ, even the estate agents in this area looked prosperous, thought Annie. He had a healthy tan and lustrously styled hair. His suit looked like Savile Row, elegantly pinstriped and teamed with white shirt, gold cufflinks and discreet silk tie. You could have made your face up in the reflection off his shoes, she thought. The bastard looked rich. Fortunately, so did she. Or rather Anne Bailey did. Anne. Like the Princess, she had told him and smiled charmingly when she shook his hand. And so did her little sister for the day, whom she introduced with a flourish as Elisa.

      This was the third flat they had viewed. The first had taken her breath away, and she had been inclined to go for that one – but it was slightly further out than she really wanted, although it boasted stunning views over Green Park. Then the next. Dazzling, alluring. But a little dark with a lot of wood panelling. But this one. This was it.

      ‘We’ll take it,’ she said.

      They went back to his office and Annie wrote out a cheque for six months’ rent in advance. A staggering amount. But she’d been busy saving a large wodge of her considerable profits. She could, for the first time ever, afford to follow a whim.

      Chris drove them back to Limehouse stopping on the way, at Annie’s instruction, so that she could make a call from a phone box.

      ‘It’s urgent,’ she said. ‘Something I forgot.’

      She phoned through to Redmond Delaney and kept her back turned to Chris and Ellie, who were both waiting in the car. She told him that Pat Delaney had shown up at her last party, that he appeared to be on something and that he had passed something to Chris.

      Redmond took it all in silently.

      The pips went. Annie shovelled in more change.

      ‘I’ll look into it,’ said Redmond.

      ‘I’d rather he didn’t know I told you,’ said Annie.

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘I got the flat,’ said Annie.

      ‘Good work, Miss Bailey. Get the details to me as soon as you can.’

      ‘Of course,’ said Annie, and rang off.

      She was moving on up. Everything was going to be all right. But she felt jittery. She got back in the car, clutching the flat details to her. She sat there staring out at the traffic and reviewing her recent past with blank amazement. Funny how Billy hadn’t called in for a while. She almost missed the poor loon, he’d become a familiar face to her. But she supposed he was intimidated, being confronted by Chris every time he called. It wasn’t something she could help. Chris was necessary now. Protection. Security. She lay back against the leather upholstery as Ellie prattled away excitedly beside her and thought what it would be like to just take off to that beautiful Mayfair flat on her own, to live there as Miss Anne Bailey, happy and prosperous. СКАЧАТЬ