by Echo Freer
‘Really?’ Jenny continued. ‘Wow! I wonder what odds Mercedes would give that? Your brother working at the club where Mercedes’ nan hired her bouncers? Although, thinking about it, it was probably her brother who hired them, after all, he was at the club when we were there.’
Zak stopped and grabbed Jenny’s arm. ‘What did you say?’
‘Oops!’ Jenny giggled. ‘She asked me not to say anything. But I don’t suppose it matters now anyway.’
‘So Mercedes’ brother was at the Terra Firma last Friday?’
‘Yes, but don’t tell her I told you.’
‘Why didn’t she say anything?’
Jenny shook her head. ‘He was entertaining clients, apparently. Meeting some blokes in the building trade and she didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.’
‘I don’t get it...’ Zak began, then stopped in his tracks. They were standing at one end of Laverne’s kitchen, which was the size of a small aircraft hanger and at the other end, near the French windows into the garden, was the cause of Zak’s abrupt halt. He turned round immediately, linked arms with Jenny and Donovan and steered them both back out into the hall as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself.
‘Zak!’ Jenny protested. ‘The party’s in the opposite direction.’
‘Don’t look now, but the blokes we saw last week, the ones who run the Terra Firma, are here - all of them - in Mercedes’ kitchen.’
‘It’s OK. That’s what I was saying - they’re probably her brother’s friends,’ Jenny explained innocently.
‘Oh, thank gawd!’ Laverne Bent teetered downstairs, leaned over the banister and interrupted their conversation. ‘Jen, darlin’ see if you can get the stroppy little mare to get herself into gear, will you? I don’t know what the ’ell she’s doing up there but she ain’t opening the door to me.’ Laverne had opted for a Madonna-cum-Dolly Parton image, complete with tooled leather stiletto-heeled boots and matching Stetson.
‘Of course, Mrs Bent.’
Laverne cocked her head on one side and screwed up her nose in a gesture of affection. ‘Aw! Ain’t she polite?’ she said, in the vague direction of the boys, before continuing downstairs and out towards the garden. ‘Tel! ’Ave you seen where I put my pina colada? Tel! Terry? Where are you?’
Upstairs, Jenny tapped on the door of Mercedes’ room while the two boys stood out of sight round the corner.
‘I told you, I’ll be down in a second,’ Mercedes called out.
‘It’s me - Jenny.’
There was the sound of a key turning and then the door was thrown open. ‘I thought I told you not to come!’
‘No, you didn’t, actually,’ Jenny challenged. ‘You told me it would be crap and that it wouldn’t be worth it.’ Jenny walked over to the window and looked out on the scene below. ‘And it doesn’t look like either of those things is true.’
Mercedes couldn’t help but be astounded at the level of self-confidence her friend appeared to have developed in the past week. She wasn’t sure whether it was as a result of working in an all-male environment at Kwik-Fit or because she had, at long last, found a boyfriend. Either way, she decided it suited her and, in any other circumstances, she would have welcomed it. Right now though, all she wanted was the old Jenny who would do everything Mercedes said, more or less, including going home immediately.
‘Jenny, it really is not a good idea for you to be here. There are things going on that you couldn’t possibly imagine and I don’t want you to be involved.’ She went over and stood next to her friend looking out of her window at the scene below, gathering her thoughts.
The spit had been turning since breakfast and had produced a greasy haze across the garden which did little to help the humidity of the afternoon. A sizeable queue of people, lining up for slices of pork, was just discernible through the fog. There was a jazz band playing down by the tennis court and a man on stilts was juggling skittles to the pleasure of about two dozen children, none of whom Mercedes knew. In fact, there were very few people she recognised. Her nan was there of course, laughing raucously with her Great Aunt Lil who must be in her nineties. Mercedes hadn’t seen Lil since her father’s funeral and the old lady had been as deaf as a post and reliant on a zimmer frame then. The only difference, eight years on, was that she’d upgraded her walking frame to a wheelchair and needed to have everything addressed to her at a decibel level louder than a sonic boom.
‘I said,’ she heard her nan bellow, ‘I ’ope they do “Bohemian Rhapsody”. It’s my favourite.’
‘I prefer blackcurrant, myself,’ she heard the old lady reply.
‘Look, don’t worry,’ Jenny said. ‘Whatever it is, I want to help you.’
Mercedes remained staring out of the window. ‘Jen, you don’t know the half of it. Just go, please.’
Beneath her she watched her mother appear out of the French windows and head towards the pool. Terry ‘Gold Fang’ Tweddle was the only person swimming and he was managing to defy the laws of nature by staying on the surface despite a medallion the size of a hub-cap dangling from his neck. Laverne leant forward to speak to him and Mercedes noticed her mother’s outfit for the first time. She shook her head in despair. Why go to all the trouble of having her nails airbrushed with a tropical sunset and then wear a cowgirl outfit? It was as incongruous as turning up to a line dance in a hula skirt.
Jenny tried to reassure her again. ‘It doesn’t matter what’s going on, Mercedes, we’re here to support you.’
Mercedes heard the word ‘we’ and felt sick. She dropped her head in exasperation. ‘Oh please, Jen, don’t tell me you’ve brought Donovan.’
Jenny grinned, nervously. ‘OK then, I won’t tell you.’ Mercedes turned to her friend with a sense of urgency. ‘Seriously, Jen. If you’ve brought Donovan then get him away from here - now.’
A voice that was all too familiar startled her. ‘Too late!’
Mercedes looked up. She took a sharp intake of breath when she saw that Donovan had entered the room but, more importantly, Zak was standing with his back to the door and she heard the faint click of the key as he locked the door behind him.
‘We’ve seen the bouncers on the door and the blokes from the club so, unless you’ve got any other skeletons lurking in the cupboard, I don’t see the problem,’ he said. ‘So your brother mixes with some dodgy guys. No big deal.’
Mercedes slumped on her bed and ran her hands through her hair. Skeletons in the cupboard? She’d need a wardrobe the size of Chingford Cemetery to house all the skeletons her family were hiding. She looked up at Zak and a mini earthquake spread outwards from just below her navel. God, he was gorgeous. It was only four days since she’d seen him but he seemed to have grown more fabulous even in that short time. Well, she had nothing to lose now, she supposed. She did a quick reckoning of the odds on him still being interested in her if she told him the truth. They couldn’t be that bad; after all, he was here, wasn’t he? He hadn’t fallen at the first fence, so she’d probably offer twenty to one. OK, there was a risk but then, isn’t there with most things in life? And on this occasion, she had everything to gain and nothing to lose.
She took a deep breath. ‘I want to talk to Zak,’ she said to Jenny. ‘Alone.’ She indicated her head in the direction of the en suite bathroom. ‘Will you and Donovan go in there for a while but make sure you lock the door at the other side. Chubby’s room opens into it as well and the last thing you want is for him disturbing you to take a pee.’
Once Jenny and Donovan had left them, Mercedes indicated for Zak to sit on the bed next to her. She looked him in the eye, almost defying him to judge her on what she was about to tell him. Then, slowly, she told him everything.
In the en suite bathroom next door, Jenny could hardly believe her good fortune. Being shut in a room with Donovan was like the fulfilment of a lifetime’s drea
m. Eagerly, she locked the door to Mercedes’ bedroom behind her while Donovan went to the door at the other side and pulled it to. No sooner had she heard the door clicked shut than she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulled him to face her and, ignoring his gasp of surprise, she pulled him forwards by the front of his shirt and locked her lips on to his like a suction pump on to a blocked drain.
Much to her disappointment Donovan pulled away. ‘Jeez, Jenny! Ease up will you? I would like to be able to use my mouth again.’
Jenny looked down, embarrassed. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I just thought we should make the most of being alone.’
Donovan raised his eyebrows cheekily. ‘I’m not arguing with that,’ he grinned. ‘But there’s making the most of it and not being able to enjoy the hog roast later on - and there’s making the most of it like this.’
Tenderly, he lowered his mouth to hers so that their lips barely brushed. A quiver ran through her body and her knees began to buckle. Jenny was on the point of emitting a murmur of joyful appreciation when Donovan broke away and put his finger to his lips. There were voices in the bedroom next door; male voices and one in particular did not sound happy. Jenny saw Donovan’s eyes go to the bolt on the door, which he’d been about to slide across earlier when she’d kissed him. It was still unlocked.
‘Just going for a jimmy and I’ll be with you in a second,’ said a voice that she recognised as Mercedes’ brother, Chubby.
As the door handle began to turn, Jenny felt herself stop breathing. Her eyes opened wide. She’d met Chubby a couple of times and she knew that Mercedes always spoke fondly of him, but she didn’t relish the thought of being caught in his bathroom in the middle of a snogging session - especially if he was with his dodgy mates.
Swiftly, Donovan leaned over and slid the bolt across. The handle turned. When the door failed to open they watched as it was rattled hard.
‘Merce? You in there?’ Chubby called.
Jenny and Donovan held their breath.
‘Merce! Open up, will you?’
Another voice spoke sharply. ‘For gawd’s sake, Chubbs, either hold it or use Mum’s.’
‘Yes, but she’s been in there for ages, Frankie. Do you think she’s all right?’
‘Course she’s bleedin’ all right. She’s sulking, that’s all; that’s what teenage gels do - remember?’ The final remark was followed by a cruel snigger and Jenny heard footsteps leave the room. The voice that must have belonged to Mercedes’ other brother Frankie, spoke again. ‘Crikey, ’Orace, how the ’ell did I get ’im for a twin?’ The response was an indiscernible murmur. Then, ‘Gary says ’e’s only gone and invited that bird.’
There was more muttering before Chubby returned.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘I was just telling ’Orace that Nick’s delivered the gear to the lock-up and ’e’s on ’is way over ’ere now. Tone and Kev’s coming later when they’ve picked up the boiler suits and ski masks but I’ve told Sid to steer clear. I want ’is nose kept well clean.’
Donovan looked at Jenny and his eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure what he was overhearing but he didn’t like the sound of it one little bit.
‘And I ’ear you’ve invited that Myrtle bird too.’
Chubby coughed, apologetically. ‘Erm, yeah.’
‘ ’Ell’s flamin’ bells with bleedin’ knobs on, Chubby! Why? I do not Christmas Eve you sometimes!’
‘I like her, Frankie.’
‘I don’t give a flying fig if you like ’er or not. I like a nice vindaloo but I ain’t invited one this afternoon, ’ave I?’ There was the sound of Frankie’s footsteps pacing angrily. ‘Jeez, Chubbs, who you gonna go out with next time - DC Polly Plod of New Scotland Yard? Are you deliberately trying to ruin the firm or what?’
The third man spoke. ‘Take it easy, son. It ain’t a problem. Sid ain’t coming and the only others she might recognise will be from the site anyway.’
‘Yeah, you’re right ’Orace. But the conversation had better stay legit today. Not a dicky bird about anything to do with the blag until the meet tomorrow.’ There was a pause. ‘Is that crystal, Chubbs?’
‘ ’Course it is.’ Another pause. ‘Where is the meet, Frankie? Only Kev said it weren’t at ’is place no more.’
‘Nah - Leonie’s only gone and arranged a bleedin’ tupperware party, hasn’t she? So, it’s down the lock-up, three o’clock sharp. And, play your cards right and there might be something in it for you.’
Jenny thought it sounded as though the conversation was coming to a close, so she stretched her arms up and wrapped them around Donovan’s neck in the hope of resuming where they had left off. As she did so, her hand knocked a tin of shaving foam on a glass shelf above the washbasin and it fell, hitting the porcelain bowl with a resounding clatter. Instantly the door was being banged with such force that it seemed as though it would break into a thousand splinters.
‘Merce! Is that you? Open this door!’
Hurriedly, Donovan pushed Jenny in the direction of the door to Mercedes’ room.
Zak had listened without speaking as Mercedes brought him up to scratch with everything she had discovered about her family. When she’d finished he took her chin and raised her face so that she was looking straight at him.
‘So, you finished with me to try and protect me?’ he asked in a tone of appreciation.
Mercedes nodded.
‘Wow! No one’s ever tried to save me from gaol before,’ he teased.
Mercedes bit her bottom lip nervously. She’d taken a huge gamble and she still didn’t know if it had paid off. He could walk out and ring the Old Bill right now if he chose.
‘So, how were you planning to pull off this single-handed Miss Marple act?’
Mercedes shrugged. ‘I’m working on it.’
He nodded as though giving her answer some thought, ‘Do you fancy a partner in anti-crime, to work on it with you?’ he asked, slowly moving so close that their lips almost touched.
The next instant they heard the key turn in the lock. The door to the en suite bathroom burst open and Jenny and Donovan tumbled into the bedroom with eyes like Bart Simpson’s. From the other end of the bathroom Mercedes could hear Frankie shouting and banging. She walked through the bathroom, unbolted the door into Chubby’s room and threw it open.
Staring her brother in the eye, she stood, legs akimbo and arms folded. ‘What!’
Frankie peered over her shoulder and, seeing Zak on her bed, his jaw set. ‘What’s ’e doing ’ere?’
‘Minding his own business.’
‘Don’t get mouthy with me, Merce,’ he warned.
Mercedes opened her arms in a gesture of feigned innocence. ‘Simply answering your question, Frankie.’
Frankie’s eyes darted from Mercedes to Zak, suspiciously. ‘ ’Ave you been locked in the bathroom with ’im?’
Mercedes folded her arms again. ‘No, actually, I’ve been locked in my bedroom with him.’ She derived a tingle of satisfaction when she saw Frankie twitch with annoyance. ‘Talking,’ she added with some glee.
‘So why d’you need to lock the door? What’re you hiding?’
‘I’m not hiding anything,’ she said, pointedly. ‘I simply wanted some privacy.’ Frankie seemed unconvinced but she was not to be intimidated. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, Frankie, I haven’t finished my conversation yet. If you need a pee, use Mum’s bathroom, or the guest bathroom or the downstairs cloakroom. Oh, and by the way, you know I’m babysitting for you tomorrow night when Cheryl goes to see the Muscle Men? Well, Zak will be coming too.’ Frankie opened his mouth to protest. ‘So that’ll save you some money on cab fares. But, on the down side, I’ve put my rates up.’
She closed the door in his face, slid the bolt across and returned to her friends.
‘Man
, you were phenomenal!’ Donovan said.
‘Thank you,’ she smiled. ‘Amazing what a little bit of information that he wouldn’t like his wife to find out, can do to increase your courage. Now, tell me what you heard.’
When Jenny had finished relating the glorious technicolor account of the men’s conversation, Donovan gave her the straight version.
Mercedes smiled. At last, she had the beginnings of a plan.
‘OK, what are we waiting for?’ She stood up and took Zak’s hand. ‘Let’s go party!’
Eleven
The storm that had been threatening for the past week broke just as Mercedes put the key into the padlock that secured the small door at one side of the metal roll-up entrance to her brother’s lock-up. Stealing the key from Chubby’s key ring had been remarkably easy; it had the letters LU written on it in red paint, just as his house keys had H1 and H2 on them and his office key had O on it. Much as Mercedes loved her brother, she often wondered if he’d been taking a nap when common sense was being given out.
The lock-up was in the middle of a row of railway arches just off Leyton High Road and, on the wet Sunday afternoon, there was no one else around. Cautiously, she stepped over the metal strip at the foot of the door and into the dank interior. She slipped off her trainers to avoid leaving wet footprints on the concrete floor and took a deep steadying breath. A train rumbled overhead just as a clap of thunder split the sultry Sunday afternoon, echoing through the empty space and causing her to start.
‘I want to stay with you,’ said Zak.
‘No!’ Mercedes was adamant. ‘We’ve been over this a dozen times. I want you to lock me in and then go away - right out of the area. I don’t want you or your car anywhere near here at three o’clock when they arrive.’
‘I’m not happy about this.’
She pulled his head through the doorway towards her and kissed him on the lips. ‘I know you’re not. Now lock the door and go. I’ll put my mobile on silent and I’ll text you to pick me up when it’s all over.’ Zak was about to protest but she leaned forwards and kissed him again. ‘Just go!’ And she pulled the door to.
