The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4. Jessie Keane
After the Friday lunchtime party Annie sent Chris out for a fag break and phoned Redmond Delaney. It was something she’d been trying to avoid, but now she had to do it. She was about to announce her changes to her workers, and it was only polite to break the news to him first.
‘Miss Bailey. Always a pleasure,’ he said smoothly. ‘How can I help?’
‘I’ve changed my plans,’ said Annie.
‘Oh?’
‘I’m moving out of here and putting a manager in charge.’
Redmond was silent. Then he said: ‘Who?’
Annie told him.
‘You’re sure that’s wise?’
‘Positive.’
‘And you will be moving where?’
This was the bit Annie had dreaded.
‘The apartment I viewed last week, I’m moving in there.’
‘Are you planning to oversee the business there and have the Limehouse concern managed for you?’
‘No,’ said Annie, bracing herself. ‘I’m going to live there, not conduct business.’
‘That’s an expensive undertaking.’
God, this was harder than she’d thought.
‘I’ll have help.’
‘Whose?’
Fuck it, she thought. ‘That’s my private business,’ she said.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Redmond. ‘As you wish.’
‘Sorry if this puts you out,’ said Annie.
‘It doesn’t. Was there anything else, Miss Bailey?’
‘No.’
There was a pause.
‘Keep in touch,’ he said, and rang off.
Annie put the phone down feeling uneasy. Of course the Delaneys would soon find out what was going on, but her relationship – if you could call it that, she thought – with Max was not negotiable or for the public domain. If Ruthie should ever get to hear about it, it wouldn’t be because Annie had blabbed it about the town. She knew she had just made her position even more unstable, but it couldn’t be helped.
Annie gave everyone time to get cleaned and cleared up, paid off the extra girls and bade them goodbye, then summoned the troops into the kitchen for tea and biscuits and a chat. She told them that she was moving out but would remain in control. She explained that the apartment she and Ellie had been to view was where she would be living, and she would not be running it as a parlour after all.
‘How can you be in control if you’re not even fucking-well here?’ asked Dolly.
‘I’ll put in a manager,’ said Annie.
‘Over my bloody dead body,’ said Dolly.
‘We don’t want some stranger comin’ in here an’ givin’ it large to us,’ warned Aretha. ‘An’ come on girl. How you goin’ afford a place like that? Ellie told us the details. It out of your league.’
‘My business is my business,’ said Annie bluntly.
‘Not when it affects us,’ said Dolly. ‘Aretha’s right. We don’t want some creep ordering us around.’
‘You won’t have some creep ordering you around. What do you think, Darren?’
Darren shrugged, but he looked unhappy. ‘You’re the boss,’ he said.
‘Ellie? You’re not saying much.’
‘You seem to have made your mind up,’ said Ellie, weakening and reaching for the custard creams.
‘I have.’
‘Well I for one am not happy,’ scowled Dolly.
‘Same here,’ said Aretha.
Annie drank her tea and let them stew for a minute or two. Then she said: ‘I’m not going to bring in a manager. I am going to create a manager.’
‘Create?’ Aretha laughed. ‘What, you goin’ make like that record, take a hundred pounds of clay and make a man, like Craig Douglas sang about? Dream on, honey.’
‘I’m going to create a manager from within,’ said Annie. God, they were dense. She was having to spell it out word for word.
‘You mean one of us?’ asked Darren.
‘At last,’ said Annie sarcastically.
They all exchanged looks. Annie could see she’d grabbed their attention now.
‘I’m not taking orders off that great lummox Chris,’ said Dolly.
‘Nor me,’ said Aretha.
‘Aretha,’ said Annie. ‘Dolly. Take your tea into the front room, will you? I want a quiet word with Ellie and Darren.’
‘I’m not joking,’ warned Dolly, shoving her chair back and storming off to the front room with a scowling Aretha.
‘Ellie,’ said Annie, when the front room door slammed shut. ‘You’re a good worker. You have a lovely way with our older gentlemen. I value your work very highly.’
Ellie looked pleased and preened herself, throwing Darren a triumphant look.
‘I hope you can carry on working for me. Go and try to calm Dolly down, will you? Send Aretha back in.’
Ellie looked bewildered but obediently left the room. Darren looked curiously at Annie, but her face was blank. Aretha strode back into the kitchen, pulled up a chair and sat huffily down.
‘Okay, what?’ she demanded.
‘You’re a great worker, Aretha. I really want you to stay on here and be happy with the arrangements,’ said Annie.
Aretha grunted. ‘Well, that depends on what you goin’ to do,’ she said.
‘Nothing you’d be unhappy with. Go back into the front room and have a chat with Ellie, will you? I really want to keep you both if I can. Send Dolly through.’
Darren poured himself and Annie another cup of tea, then sat and gnawed a hangnail. ‘This is doing my nerves in,’ he told her.
‘Just keep calm,’ said Annie.
‘I’m afraid you’re going to say something horrible.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like, “Darren, Chris is going to be your new boss.” Or “Darren, I want you to take over here.”’
‘Wouldn’t you like that?’
‘God, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.’
Dolly came in slamming the door into the hall shut behind her. Dolly was a terrific door-slammer, but it cut no ice with Annie.
‘I’m not happy with any of this,’ Dolly fumed.
Annie nodded, she knew all about Dolly’s resistance to change of any sort. When you’d been humped around like an unwanted package all your natural and pushed about and abused by your own father, it would make you that way. It didn’t take a shrink to see that.
‘I’ve been talking to Darren about him being in charge,’ said Annie.
‘I told you, I’m not taking orders from anyone. Particularly not an arse bandit.’
‘Charming,’ said Darren.
‘Well that’s what you are,’ said Dolly. ‘You shove