BETRAYED. Jacqui Rose
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before he was actually taken to meet the man himself. Del Williams. Husband of Edith, and number one face.
Even though it paid well and the work came with living quarters provided, Alfonso hadn’t seen the job to have any redeeming features; unblocking toilets around the villa, changing fuses and whitewashing already brilliantly white walls as well as always keeping schtum to the comings and goings of the Costa del Sol’s biggest faces, wasn’t his idea of living the high life.
But then a couple of months after he’d started work at the Williams’ villa, Alfonso had woken up to find Edith sitting in the kitchen, having returned from one of her luxury holidays. Within hours, Del had left the villa, going back to London, not being able to stand more than the minimum of time with his wife. So that had left Edith and him.
At first, Edith had viewed him suspiciously, but one thing Alfonso had always been good at throughout his life was reading people. Giving them what they wanted before ripping the granny out of them and taking them for everything they had. Edith was no different. Alfonso knew exactly what she needed to get him what he needed.
‘Alfonso! … Alfonso! Where are those bleedin’ tissues? Where the fuck are you?’
Alfonso scowled. The time was coming when he wouldn’t have to jump to Edith’s every whim. She was a fat, loud-mouthed cow – but a very rich one, and even though it’d taken longer than he thought it would, if he continued to play his cards right, he’d be able to get his hands on that wealth.
His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, breaking his thoughts. He answered, slightly annoyed.
‘Yes.’
Alfonso listened to the caller for a moment, before growling down the phone. His voice changed from the feigned affected voice in which he spoke to Edith, into the heavy threatening cockney accent of Alf Garfield.
‘Listen geeze, I told you to never fucking phone me … I’m warning you mate, don’t press my fucking buttons, pal, otherwise I ain’t going to be held responsible for my actions.’
Cutting off the call, Alfonso straightened down his clothes and walked out into the brilliant Spanish sunlight, trying desperately to ignore the nagging unrest that had just come over him.
Back in his office in London, defence barrister Alan Day slowly put down the phone as the line went dead. He had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling indeed.
8
‘I wasn’t expecting you to finish so early … you all right, babe? You look tired. Do you want me to run you a bath, darlin’?’ Claudia looked on edge but smiled as Bunny walked into the white and gold front room of the luxury apartment Bunny owned, but shared with Del on the west side of Soho. Bunny smiled weakly back, ignoring the question put to her. ‘What have you got there, Claudia?’
‘Where?’
Bunny looked bemused as Claudia shuffled awkwardly in front of the table. Of all the things Claudia was, it usually wasn’t secretive. ‘Behind your back. What’s on the table, Claud?’
‘Nothing.’
Bunny chuckled a little too loudly for it to sound natural. ‘Claudia, it ain’t nothing if I can see there’s something there. What’s behind your back, babe?’ Bunny began to walk towards Claudia who turned towards the table and began quickly scooping up the contents of the box she’d tipped out.
‘Claudia! What’s going on? This ain’t like you.’
Claudia shot round to face Bunny. Her face was red as she clutched hold of the shoe box against her breasts. ‘And it ain’t like you neither, Bun. Can’t I have a bit of privacy without every Tom and Dick wanting to know what I’m doing? Is that too much to ask for? Or do I need to take me arse out of here to get some cop eye for meself?’
Bunny looked shocked. She’d never seen Claudia react this way. Well, not to her at least. She’d seen her fist down men taller and stronger than her, she’d seen her argue until the cows came home with Del and she’d always seen Claudia jump to her defence as if her life depended on it, but never had Bunny seen Claudia’s formidable presence turn on her. Apologetically, Bunny spoke.
‘I … I don’t know what to say.’
‘Well don’t say flippin’ nothing then. Okay? Keep yer nose out.’
The moment Claudia said it, she wished she hadn’t. She saw the hurt in Bunny’s face as she turned to walk out.
‘Bunny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it … Bronwin, please.’
Bunny turned to look at Claudia, her face tense.
‘Don’t call me that. I told you never to call me that.’
‘Call you what?’ Del entered the room, overhearing the last part of the conversation between the two women. His voice was loud and cheerful, startling both women.
Bunny glanced at Claudia nervously, then gave a smile to Del. ‘Nothing. It’s fine.’
Del grinned, relieved. The last thing he really wanted was to have his ear chewed off hearing about women’s squabbles. He rubbed his hands together eagerly. ‘Well in that case, who’s up for a spot of lunch at The Ivy?’
Claudia picked up her shoe box and marched towards the door, pushing past Del. ‘Not me.’
‘Nor me.’ Bunny turned and exited, leaving Del on his own wondering if there was ever going to be a time when he’d understand what went on in women’s heads.
‘I had the dreams again.’ Bunny sat in the large white chair opposite the door, wringing her hands.
The place Bunny sat in was a tiny nondescript room with paint peeling off the wall, above a shop on the north side of Victoria Station, but it was one Bunny cherished coming to. It was away from everywhere. A room where nobody knew her or could find her, and it was this room she visited each week.
The one other person sitting in the room was a small hunchback grey-haired woman, dressed in unsuitable clothes for the heat of the summertime. Her black cardigan was buttoned up to the top and she wore a high roll-neck top underneath. She smiled at Bunny sympathetically as she looked over her glasses with a penetrating stare. ‘Do you want to tell me about them, Bunny?’
‘It’s the same dream.’
‘The one where you see him, the man from the woods?’
Bunny nodded, unable to hold eye contact with the woman, fearing she might cry.
‘Have you told Del about the dreams yet?’
Bunny shook her head. ‘No, not really. Not properly anyway.’
‘I think you should. I’m sure he’ll understand.’
Bunny looked down, noticing a line of ants crawling along the skirting boards. ‘Maybe, but …’
The woman pushed Bunny a little harder. ‘Don’t you want to? Is it because you don’t trust him?’
‘I do, but …’ Bunny paused, not wanting to talk any longer, even though that was the reason why she was here.
‘Go on Bunny.’
‘How would I explain to him? I’m a grown woman, I shouldn’t be scared of dreams. It’s stupid.’
‘Then why do you come here?’
Bunny shrugged, but didn’t answer. The woman continued to talk in a soft and comforting manner. ‘What made the dreams come back do you think?’
‘The kid. The missing kid from Camden.’
‘Julie Cole?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me what you see, Bunny. It might help.’
Bunny’s