thought you were trouble. Didn’t like your connections.’
‘I don’t bloody have any. They’ve all buggered off.’
‘Ah, you poor thing. Would you consider taking your clothes off next time you sit for me?’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Oh, go on.’
Annie’s eyes opened wide at his audacity. She had to laugh. ‘Are you taking the piss or what?’
‘The pay’s better.’
‘I don’t care.’ Annie paused. ‘How much better?’
‘Double.’
‘Never.’
‘It’s true, I’m telling you. So will you?’
‘No.’ But she was smiling. Kieron was easy to talk to, she liked that about him. But she had the feeling she could have been a bowl of fruit or a landscape or any damned thing, he was looking at her as an object, not as a woman. Which she felt sort of relieved about, and annoyed about at the same time. Granted, he was trying to get her clothes off, but not with any lustful intention. Which was a bit bloody insulting in a way. She was used to men slavering over her, and his approach threw her off balance.
‘I didn’t expect this,’ she said.
‘What?’ He was busy, absorbed.
‘That you’re a real artist. That you really do it.’
Kieron paused.
‘I thought you were just playing at all this,’ said Annie. ‘You’re a Delaney, for God’s sake. Delaneys don’t usually arse about painting pictures, do they? They …’ Annie hesitated.
‘Yeah, what do “they” do?’ asked Kieron.
‘They run their manor,’ said Annie. ‘People respect them.’
‘And fear them.’
‘That goes with the turf.’
Annie hesitated again. She thought of the Delaneys, and how they had bided their time, lulled the Carters into a false sense of security after Tory was knocked off, then suddenly gone for Eddie. These were dangerous people, cunning and cold.
Kieron paused. ‘Come on then, spit it out.’
‘Will they protect Celia? She’s afraid the Carters are going to get her.’
‘I told you, I don’t discuss the family.’
‘You could put in a word. If you wanted to.’
‘No, Annie.’ Kieron drew back from the drawing. ‘I told you, I don’t get involved.’
Annie looked at him. ‘Do you sell your work?’
‘What?’ Now it was Kieron’s turn to be off balance.
‘You heard me. You sell it, don’t you?’
‘Of course I sell it.’
‘In London galleries?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ah.’
‘What do you mean, “ah”?’
‘Doesn’t the fact that you’re a member of the Delaney family work in your favour when it comes to getting gallery-owners to display your stuff?’
Kieron stared at her.
‘Or am I wrong? Do those gallery-owners kiss the Delaneys’ arseholes rather than risk the consequences?’
‘You’re a cheeky little mare, ain’t ya?’ said Kieron.
Annie shrugged. ‘All I’m saying is, you’re a Delaney when it suits you.’
Kieron threw aside his nub of charcoal. ‘Go on, get out. Get out before I kick your audacious arse down those stairs.’
‘The truth hurts, doesn’t it?’
‘Out!’
Something flared in his eyes, something Annie hadn’t seen before. She frowned as she left.
He’d noticed her now, all right. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But as she hit the street she was smiling again.
When she got back to Celia’s place, she found Darren, Aretha, Ellie and Dolly sitting around the kitchen table sunk in gloom.
‘What?’ she asked, feeling high because she’d managed to get one over on a Delaney without getting herself killed in the process.
Darren looked up at her. He still had two fabulous shiners from where Eddie’s attacker had punched him in the nose. He didn’t look good at all.
‘Celia’s gone,’ he said.
Annie sat down. ‘What?’
‘She went overnight,’ said Aretha. ‘All her clothes are gone, and her suitcase, she’s scarpered.’
‘Did she say anything before she left?’ asked Annie. This didn’t seem feasible. This place would be lost without Celia.
‘She left this for you,’ said Ellie. She gave Dolly a scathing look. ‘Dolly was going to rip it up.’
‘Grass,’ spat Dolly.
‘Open the thing, we’ve been dying to know what she says,’ said Aretha.
‘I was going to steam it open,’ confessed Darren.
‘What stopped you?’ asked Annie.
‘Ellie said she’d tell.’
Annie nodded. Ellie would always tell. Dolly would always be stroppy, and Darren would always be sweetly reasonable. As for Aretha … Annie thought she wanted watching. Aretha was the expert on supplying the needs of their kinkier clients, there was a dark side to her temperament. All these things she had learned. She tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. It said:
Annie love,
I’m going away for a bit, I can’t say where. Take over here, sorry I can’t say for how long. You know the ropes, and if you get stuck Darren will help, he’s a good boy.
Love
Celia.
Annie read it twice, the breath catching in her throat, a thousand thoughts running through her head. Celia, gone. Celia who had taken her in and given her a home when the rest of the world had spat at her. It didn’t seem real somehow. And she didn’t want
