Strong Women

by Roberta Kray

  ‘What, some kind of property developer?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jo said.

  ‘Well, there’s money in that. Perhaps you shouldn’t be too quick to dismiss him.’

  Jo shrugged. If Carla had her way, she’d have her down the aisle by the weekend. ‘So what brings you round on a Tuesday evening?’

  ‘Oh, I had to drop off some groceries for Ruby. She claims she’s got the flu and can’t even manage to stagger down the road to the local shop. Actually, she hasn’t got as much as a sniffle. She’s just doing what she always does – pulling the strings and making us all dance to her tune.’

  ‘What about Mrs Dark? I thought that was her job.’

  ‘The sensitive Mrs Dark has one of her headaches. All that communing with the spirits tends to drain her energy.’

  Jo remembered what she’d said about silver. ‘You think she’s a fake?’

  ‘Is the Pope Catholic? You don’t believe any of that psychic shit, do you?’

  ‘No, but I’m surprised that Ruby does.’

  ‘That cow believes whatever it’s convenient for her to believe.’

  The kettle had boiled and Carla automatically stood up to make the coffee. Jo waved her back down. ‘It’s okay. I’ll do it.’ While she was on her feet she had a quick look round, hoping that Gabe hadn’t left anything behind. Now she’d finally got her sister-in-law off the subject she didn’t want her returning to it again. She glanced at the clock. How long was he likely to be? She had to get rid of Carla before he came back.

  ‘Is Tony taking care of the kids?’ Jo asked, subtly reminding her of her maternal duties.

  ‘If you can call lounging in front of the TV with a drink in his hand “taking care” of them. That’s why I thought I’d call in – a spot of sanity between the horrors of Ruby and the chaos that’s likely to be waiting for me by the time I get home.’

  Jo laughed, put the two mugs of coffee on the table and sat down again.

  ‘Ta,’ Carla said. ‘So how are things? Everything okay at the shop?’

  ‘Yes, fine.’ She didn’t tell her that she’d taken a couple of days off. Carla was only too likely to make a link between that and Gabe being here. But the mention of the shop suddenly reminded her of what she’d witnessed that morning. ‘Actually, I meant to ask you – you’ve known Jacob Mandel for years, haven’t you?’

  Carla wrinkled her nose. ‘We’ve met a few times but only in passing. Tony knows him better than I do. Why? Are you having problems with him?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s nothing like that. It’s just …’ Jo paused. Now she was trying to put it into words, her earlier uneasiness felt rather ridiculous. ‘It’s just that I saw him in the street talking to Constance Kearns, the woman who lives downstairs, and I didn’t realise they even knew each other.’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘It doesn’t really matter. I was just curious. Jacob’s never mentioned her, you see.’

  ‘Is there any reason why he should?’

  ‘No,’ Jo said. ‘I don’t suppose there is. Only you’d think with her being my neighbour and all …’

  ‘If it’s bothering you so much, why don’t you ask him?’

  Jo frowned. ‘It’s not bothering me, exactly. It’s just one of those things that … and I wouldn’t want it to look like I’ve been spying on him. I mean, it’s none of my business really, is it?’

  ‘Well, Kellston isn’t that big a place. Perhaps she went into Ruby’s one day and they got chatting.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jo said, ‘that’s probably it.’ She bent her face over the mug. Something was still bugging her but until her thoughts were clearer it was best to move on, to leave it alone.

  There was another question she wanted to ask – the crucial one about Peter and Deborah – but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Anyway, this wasn’t the time. If they went down that road, Carla might never leave. It was best, she decided, to stick to more neutral topics. ‘So how’s Tony?’ she said.

  But for Carla this clearly wasn’t neutral. She narrowed her eyes and growled. ‘I think the bastard’s seeing someone else.’

  ‘Someone else?’

  ‘Some tart.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Jo said.

  ‘Oh, believe me, I know all the signs: his pathetic excuses, turning his phone off for hours on end, disappearing at the weekends.’ She shook her head. ‘Christ, he even bought me flowers yesterday. He never buys me flowers unless he’s got a guilty conscience! What more proof do I need?’

  Jo was beginning to understand why she had called round so unexpectedly. It wasn’t just to do with Ruby, with some inconvenient shopping trip. Tony was up to his old tricks and Carla wasn’t happy.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘The same as always,’ Carla said. ‘Sit tight and wait for the silly bitch to grow tired of him. And she will … eventually. Tony’s charms have a tendency to wear thin.’

  Jo often wondered why they stayed together. There was certainly no love lost between them. Perhaps it was for the kids, although she wasn’t convinced that being in the middle of a battlefield was a particularly healthy place to grow up. Still, what did she know? She’d been raised with a set of parents who worshipped each other and that hadn’t been a bed of roses either.

  It was another fifteen minutes before Jo manoeuvred her wrist and looked discreetly at her watch. It was almost seven. Had Susan turned up? Was Gabe talking to her now? She was getting that sinking feeling in her stomach again. Something wasn’t right. Half an hour ago she’d been concerned that Gabe might come back while Carla was still here. Now she was starting to worry that he might not come back at all.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  From the upstairs bedroom window Susan had a clear view of the pub on the corner. It was ten past seven when the coppers dragged Gabe Miller out and it took two of them to do it. He was still struggling, even though his hands were cuffed behind his back. She stood back a little and smiled. She might have known he wouldn’t go quietly and now they’d be able to add resisting arrest to the charge sheet.

  Susan didn’t intend to tell Marty about any of this. If he found out that Jo had been snooping around or that Gabe had been in touch, he’d have a bleeding fit. Marty didn’t know anything about her mother and she meant to keep it that way.

  Telling the cops about Gabe had been a calculated risk. She was counting on the fact that he wouldn’t grass her up. There was too much at stake. If he spilled his guts, telling them everything he knew or thought he knew, he’d be aware that he was putting Silver’s life on the line. She was sure he wouldn’t do that … or at least not straight away. In order to establish that the girl was actually missing, the law would have to go to Vic Delaney and the moment they did that, Marty would hear about it. And the moment he heard about it …

  No, Gabe wouldn’t talk.

  She watched as they pushed down his head and bundled him into the waiting car. If only he hadn’t interfered. Why hadn’t he just kept out of it? But she knew why. The sad thing, the truly pathetic thing, was that he had been trying to protect her. He really thought he could save Susan Clark from herself. Damsels in distress, even if they did have hearts of stone, had always been a weakness of his.

  She sighed. Perhaps the stupid sod deserved some help in return. She would ring his lawyer, Paul Emerson, and let him know what had happened. With a murder charge hanging over him, Gabe would need all the advice he could get – and the sooner the better. It would take a while before the cops got him back to whatever station they were going to, got him processed and finally allowed him to make a call to his solicitor. He would then have to sweat in a cell until Emerson arrived. This way, she could cut the waiting time in half.

  Of course, contacting Emerson wasn’t a completely selfless act. Susan knew herself well enough to accept that she was thoroughly incapable of any real altruism. She never did anything unless there was something in it for her. Calling him would provide her with the opportunity to pass
on a message to Gabe, a message that would emphasise the importance of keeping his mouth firmly shut about Silver Delaney.

  As the cop car pulled away, Susan left the window and went back downstairs. She sat for a while at the kitchen table. This was all getting more and more complicated. For a moment she wondered if it was actually worth the grief but quickly stamped on the thought. Just for starters, there was the money to consider: half a million quid wasn’t to be sneered at. Her share of the ransom would give her the new life she craved, a chance to escape, not just from this god-forsaken country, but from all of the horrors of the past. Reminding herself of why she was really doing this, she grabbed her bag and took out the little plastic wallet with the photographs inside.

  She slowly flicked through the pictures. It was the third one that pulled her up short. She stopped and gazed at it. There was something in the expression that always brought a lump to her throat. She closed her eyes and opened them again. She stroked her thumb across the thin plastic film. ‘It’s okay,’ she murmured. ‘I haven’t forgotten. I won’t let you down.’

  Immediately, she picked up the phone and rang Emerson. It was a short call lasting only a few minutes. She recited the facts and he listened carefully to what she had to tell him. Then she gave him the message for Gabe. After asking him to repeat it, she was sure he would relay it accurately: Be very careful or the silverware could get melted down. He hadn’t asked her to explain. The experienced Mr Emerson knew better than to enquire too closely.

  After finishing the conversation, Susan sat back with the phone in her hand. There was another call she had to make but there was no immediate rush. Jo wouldn’t expect to hear any news for an hour or so. That gave her time to work out exactly what she was going to say. She had to scare her enough to guarantee her silence but not so much that she would go running to the cops.

  Susan slid the wallet back into her bag. She stood up, opened the fridge and took some ice-cream out of the freezer. She scooped it into a bowl and placed it on a tray. What else could she tempt Silver with? She added a hunk of French bread, butter, cheese, two bags of crisps, a bar of chocolate and a glass of milk. It was not, perhaps, the most healthy meal in the world but it might encourage her to start eating a bit more. The previous offerings, the chips and pizza, had been barely touched. The kid’s stomach must be rumbling by now.

  Susan took the tray down to the cellar. She opened the grille and looked into the room. Silver was curled up in a corner of the mattress with her arms wrapped around her knees and her long fair hair obscuring her face.

  ‘Hey, I’ve got some food.’

  Silver mumbled into her hair. ‘Not hungry.’

  ‘Yes, you are,’ Susan said. ‘You think your dad’s going to be happy if you starve to death?’

  ‘Where’s Gabe?’ she said.

  Susan started. It was the first time Silver had mentioned him. Coincidence or what? She was usually droning on about Ritchie. ‘Who cares? He wasn’t there when you needed him. Men never are, sweetheart. You can’t rely on them.’

  ‘He’s okay,’ Silver said. ‘It’s not his fault.’

  And Susan couldn’t disagree with that. She had a sudden image in her head, the way Gabe had looked as they had dragged him out of the pub. She didn’t want to think about it. Quickly, she knelt down and pushed the tray through the flap at the base of the door. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Do you want coffee or anything? I could make you a flask.’

  ‘No,’ Silver said.

  Susan stood up and peered through the grille again. ‘Well, don’t just leave it sitting there.’

  Silver obediently got up and padded barefoot across the cellar. The chain clattered on the cold stone floor. She picked up the tray and put it on the little table by the mattress. ‘I need a shower.’

  ‘It’s not a hotel. You’ll have to use the basin.’

  Silver’s only response was to lie down and turn her back.

  ‘Not feeling talkative today?’ Susan said.

  There was no reply.

  ‘Suit yourself.’ She shut the grille and leaned back against the wall. She didn’t feel any guilt about Gabe. Why should she? She had done him a small favour in calling Emerson but a much bigger one in not telling Marty Gull about the fact he had contacted her. Marty wouldn’t have thought twice about taking him out, and Gabe was better off in jail than six feet under.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Jo had cleared the table, done the washing-up and was now looking for something else to do. She had to keep occupied, to keep moving. It was a quarter to eight and Carla had left over twenty minutes ago.

  She went into the living room and gazed out across the Green. There was still no sign of him. But that was good, wasn’t it? It meant that Susan was there, that they were talking, that some kind of resolution could be within reach. She frowned. Or that they couldn’t reach an agreement. Or that she hadn’t turned up and he was still waiting for her. Would Susan really be prepared to throw away the chance of half a million? Maybe, if she had one small shred of decency inside her. But that was debatable.

  Jo tidied away the newspapers, plumped up the cushions and watered a drooping geranium on the window ledge. What would she do if Gabe didn’t come back? No, she couldn’t start thinking like that. It was still early. There was plenty of time. She looked out across the Green again; it was all in shadow now and the air had grown cool.

  From around the corner, Leo came cycling down the road, his dark hair flying out behind him. He jumped off his bike at the gate, looked up and gave her a wave. Jo smiled and waved back. She hadn’t seen him since Friday night, since Gabe Miller had thrown him so unceremoniously up against the wall. She watched as he wheeled his bike along the drive. He didn’t seem any the worse for the experience but who knew what went on in a teenage boy’s head. And then there was that other small matter. Did he really have a crush on her? Maybe Gabe had just been winding her up, trying to make her feel uncomfortable. He was good at that.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. It had to be him! She ran across the room and snatched it up.

  ‘Gabe?’

  ‘Hello, Jo.’

  She caught her breath. It was Susan.

  There was a short pause and then a laugh. ‘Well, aren’t you going to ask me how I am?’

  ‘Why should I?’ Jo snapped, all her fear and anger instantly rising to the surface. ‘It’s not you I’ve been worried about. What the hell are you doing? Are you completely mad? Is the girl all right? Where is she? Is—’

  ‘Just shut up!’ Susan’s voice sounded hard and cruel. ‘Jesus, I didn’t call you to get the third degree. In fact I didn’t have to call you at all. I could have just left you to find out for yourself.’

  ‘Find out?’ Jo repeated. Her heart began to race. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve got a bit of bad news. Gabe’s been arrested. I don’t think you’ll be seeing him in the very near future.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard. Sadly, he’s about to embark on a rather long and unpleasant interview about the presence of a young man’s body in his flat. And then after that …’

  ‘You tipped them off,’ Jo said accusingly. ‘You told them he’d be at The George.’

  Susan didn’t deny it. ‘I warned him. I gave him every chance. I told him not to interfere but he just couldn’t help himself. That’s the trouble with Gabe, he’s never learned when to back off, when to leave things alone.’

  Jo felt her knees begin to shake. She sat down on the floor and gasped. She had known it was the wrong thing to do. She had told him not to go. Why hadn’t he listened to her? ‘What have you done? How could you? You know he didn’t kill Ritchie Naylor.’

  ‘Well he’s got nothing to worry about then, has he? Oh, and before you even think about going to the cops and making a statement of your own, a word to the wise – you so much as step into a police station and we’ll hear about it. Keep your mouth shut about Silver or you’ll have
to live with the consequences. Could you really bear to have that on your conscience?’

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ Jo murmured.

  ‘It’s not me you need to worry about. It’s out of my hands. Let’s just say that the involvement of the law might panic my friend into doing something desperate. He’s rather highly strung, you see. Do you understand what I mean?’

  Jo, stunned into silence, nodded down the phone.

  ‘Jo?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘I understand.’

  ‘Good. So long as we’ve got that clear.’ Susan’s tone softened a little. ‘Look, I never meant for you to get involved in all this. It was just … unfortunate. In a few days it will all be over. You can forget it ever happened. We’ll have our cash and Delaney will have his daughter back. No one gets hurt and everyone’s happy.’

  ‘Apart from Ritchie Naylor,’ Jo said. ‘And Gabe.’

  ‘Gabe can take care of himself. And anyway, by the time it comes to trial – if it even gets that far – I’m sure that expensive lawyer of his will have come up with a suitably convincing defence.’

  ‘Don’t you care about anyone but yourself?’

  Susan gave a thin laugh. ‘I think you already know the answer to that. Just do as you’re told, okay, and sweet little Silver gets to go home. That’s what you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course it is. But …’ Jo, worried that Susan might hang up and that she might never get the chance to speak to her again, tried to think of something to keep her on the line. ‘Come on, you know you won’t get away with it. Vic Delaney isn’t the type of man to just let it go. He isn’t going to rest until he tracks you down. Even if you do manage to get the money, you’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. Do you really want that?’

  ‘God,’ Susan said mockingly, ‘you’re beginning to sound just like Gabe. You two must have been spending a lot of time together. I’m surprised, I really am. I wouldn’t have thought he was your type. Still, it never did take him long to sweet-talk any woman into bed.’