39

      ‘Remember your plan, Miss Bailey?’ asked that chilly voice on the phone.

      Annie was standing in the hall. It was Saturday morning. Chris was sitting there, watching her impassively. She felt tired and irritable. Redmond fucking Delaney had got her out of a nice warm bed to play mind games. Okay, it was eleven in the morning and she should have been up and dressed. She knew that. But knowing it was one thing, doing it was something else. And so she was here – again – in her dressing gown with hair like a haystack in a gale. Dolly passed by, looking with disapproval at the state of her. It was almost funny. She was turning into Dolly, and Dolly was turning into her.

      ‘Plan?’ echoed Annie.

      ‘Expansion, Miss Bailey.’

      ‘Oh.’ Annie dragged a hand through her hair. ‘That plan.’

      ‘Why not go ahead with that?’ asked Redmond.

      Why not, thought Annie. Because she could hardly summon the energy to stand up, far less launch a new business? Right now she could think of a thousand reasons why not.

      ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

      ‘Only I’ve looked at a few places with good potential.’

      ‘Right.’

      ‘Perhaps I should leave it with you, let you mull it over.’

      ‘Mm. Okay.’ She put the phone down. She’d forgotten to say a polite goodbye, she realized afterwards.

      ‘Bugger,’ she muttered.

      You didn’t just put the phone down on Redmond Delaney. But then she was so deeply in the shit, would another few inches matter? She had dumped Max Carter. You didn’t do that, either. But she had. Was she brave, or just stupid?

      Stupid, she thought. Because now she was miserable as sin. She missed him far more than she would ever have thought possible. She knew he was a bastard, but she was still in love with him. And what was there for her here? She was strictly surplus to requirements. Dolly had brightened up after Annie’s little peacemaking speech yesterday, but she was still edgy. The message was clear; she was here on sufferance, and the sooner she went, the better.

      Annie went through to the kitchen and found Dolly there at the table with Billy. She hadn’t seen him for quite a while. He’d obviously been intimidated by Chris standing on guard and by the formality of using the front door, she knew that, but now it looked like he’d overcome it. Annie could see, to her shame, that her appearance startled him. Fuck, she knew she looked a wreck. Dolly poured her some tea. Dolly looked immaculate from her hair down to her fingernails.

      This can’t go on, thought Annie.

      ‘Hello Billy, how are you?’ she asked, making an effort.

      ‘I’m f-fine, thank you Miss Bailey,’ he said, looking sideways at her while scribbling in his notebook.

      She looked over at what he was doing. As usual, it was just scribble, blackening the page. There was nothing intelligible there, nothing that made sense at all. Maybe it made sense to Billy. Who knew? It was rather sweet, the way he still came calling even though Celia was gone. And it was good of Redmond Delaney to turn a blind eye to Billy’s continued presence on his manor.

      She took her tea out to the hall and dialled the Delaneys’ number.

      ‘Hello?’ said Redmond.

      ‘Mr Delaney, I’m sorry, I think we got cut off.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘What you were saying, about plans,’ said Annie.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘I might have a place in mind,’ she said. It was probably gone by now, but if it was, so be it.

      The first place she’d looked at with Ellie had been a favourite, with its fabulous views out over Green Park, but it was unfurnished and it would cost an arm and a leg to get the place done out as she’d like it; it was also a little too far out.

      The second had been closer to Whitehall and was rather like a gentleman’s club inside, fully furnished with lots of dark wood panelling and large comfy chairs. Even the bedrooms were sumptuously done out in reds and golds. She could picture her gentlemen there, making themselves at home.

      She didn’t want to think about the third apartment. The apartment where she had lived and loved with Max. She put that straight out of her head.

      ‘I’ll contact the agents and get back to you, if that’s all right?’ said Annie.

      ‘Good, Miss Bailey.’

      ‘Goodbye then.’

      ‘Do keep in touch, Miss Bailey. I’m following your career with interest.’

      Annie was surprised to find herself smiling as she put down the phone. Against all probability, she quite liked cool, collected Redmond Delaney with his soft and sophisticated Irish lilt. Like Orla, he seemed to have a polish and poise the other Delaneys lacked.

      It was about time she got herself back on track.

      The same estate agent she’d spoken to before met her at the Whitehall apartment. The place still looked mightily impressive. The panelling lent it a grandeur, the chandeliers cast a soft, clubby light down on the costly rugs, occasional tables and leather Chesterfields. The drapes were thick gold velvet. She liked this place. She could do business here, she felt.

      ‘I’ll take it,’ she said, even though the shortest lease was six months and the price was astronomical. But that was where Redmond Delaney came in.

      Back at the agent’s office she wrote a cheque for a month’s rental in advance. The agent shook her hand, she got a taxi back to Limehouse and straightaway put a call through to Redmond.

      ‘I’ve rented a place in Upper Brook Street,’ she said, and described it to him in detail.

      ‘It sounds perfect,’ said Redmond.

      ‘You said you’d chip in with half the rental if we negotiated a cut of the profits.’

      ‘So I did. And you remembered.’

      ‘Will you, then?’

      ‘Yes, of course. But I’ll want input on how the business is run.’

      ‘Understood.’

      ‘I’ll meet you there at ten tomorrow. Give me the full address and notify the agent. I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Bailey. And I’m pleased you’re back.’

      Which was nice, thought Annie. But Redmond wanted his pound of flesh out of this. She didn’t much like the idea of him having too much of a say in how she ran the business, but she wanted his cash input so what could she do? Needs must, she thought.

      Yeah, thought Annie as she ran upstairs to sort out something