The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4. Jessie Keane
a bag and handed him the watering can.
Kieron looked at the grave. The roses looked starkly red in the cold grey light. Hothouse blooms, he thought. A frost was threatened. They’d be dead overnight, too delicate to survive the elements. A bit like him, maybe. He still felt bad about how Max had made him look the other night at the exhibition. The bastard had belittled him in front of all the important London faces, and he was still seething with hatred over it.
Annie hadn’t even had the decency to call him on the phone, either. That really riled him. She’d been there as his guest, and she’d just fucked off with Carter without a word. She couldn’t treat him like that, and he intended to tell her so.
‘Pat’s a very big boy now, Kieron,’ Orla pointed out. She glanced at him. ‘Hey, are you listening to me?’
Kieron snapped back to the present. ‘Yeah. I’m listening. And I know that. But I suppose we should at least enquire …’
Orla shrugged. ‘We’ve put the word round that we’re looking for him. No one’s come up with anything.’
‘Well, do you think anything’s happened to him?’
Orla looked at Kieron. Her eyes were cold. ‘We both know that’s a possibility,’ she said.
‘Then perhaps we ought to be more worried?’ said Kieron.
‘Perhaps we ought.’
Kieron thought with irritation that she sounded completely dispassionate. Orla was a cold fish and he hated her lack of feeling sometimes. Redmond was the same. Both of them, cold as haddock.
Orla stood there, looking down at their brother’s grave, murmuring something under her breath. She was a diamond of a girl, he knew. She did this for their parents in Ireland. She tried always to do the right thing. Molly was old now, and their father was shot away to put it mildly, didn’t know what day of the week it was, by all accounts. Didn’t know which way was up. A sad end to a dynamic man. Sad for those around him, anyway. Davey himself seemed perfectly happy. It was Molly who shed tears over the man who no longer even knew her. So Orla did this little service, and phoned Molly and told her so. Just a little thing, but to Molly, so important. Davey had adored Tory.
Now he couldn’t even remember him.
His eldest.
His first-born.
His favourite.
Now the old man was gaga, and the son was dust and ashes. Life was strange. It was all down to Redmond now to hold the remains of the Delaney empire together. Pat might show up next week, or never be seen again. Kieron drew closer to his sister and put an arm around Orla’s shoulders.
She stiffened.
He withdrew his arm. He had forgotten that she didn’t really like to be touched. Hugs and kisses were out. He stood there, frozen to the marrow, while she murmured her prayers and gazed at the grave. Her red hair danced in the breeze. He tuned in to what she was saying. Prayers for the dead, no doubt. He listened, and was shocked by what he heard.
‘You bastard, dead at last aren’t you, and you know what? I’m glad. And if I was alone here I’d dance on your grave.’
Annie had made two decisions. Now she was settled into the apartment, she felt stronger and more able to start setting her life straight.
One, she was going to deter Kieron from being a fucking nuisance and hanging around her like a lovesick hound. You didn’t mix it with Max Carter like Kieron had and carry on getting away with it. When Max snapped – and Annie knew he would – Kieron would be in deep shit. And she didn’t want another death on her conscience.
Her second decision was that she would try even harder to build bridges with her sister. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but however long it bloody took or however tough the going got, she was determined to bring Ruthie back to her. The thing with her and Max was over. Now, surely, there could be forgiveness and reconciliation. Feeling apprehensive, she phoned Queenie’s place across town and was both pleased and nervous when Ruthie picked the phone up.
‘Oh. It’s you,’ said Ruthie when Annie announced herself.
Not a great start, but Annie pressed on. ‘I thought I’d call and see how you are.’
‘That’s good of you,’ said Ruthie with sarcasm.
‘I want us to be friends again, Ruthie,’ said Annie. ‘I know I did a horrible thing to you. I was young and stupid and jealous of the attention you got.’
It was only one and a half years since Ruthie and Max had married, but Annie felt she had aged ten years in that short time. She had been forced to grow up fast, and she could see clearly now how bad her behaviour had been.
‘Ruthie, I can’t begin to say how sorry I am. But all that’s over now. I’ve made a new start with my life, and …’
‘And you want to wipe the slate clean,’ said Ruthie.
‘Yes. Exactly.’
‘I want to do the same,’ said Ruthie.
‘Oh? Well … good.’
‘I want to forget I ever knew you, you cheating whore. And I will.’
‘Ruthie,’ said Annie desperately, ‘it’s over with me and Max. You’ve got to believe that.’
‘Oh, I think I do. He told me the same thing, you see,’ said Ruthie. ‘So maybe between you there might be a hint of the truth in there. He’s taken the Surrey house off the market. It’s a bit bloody inconvenient, to be honest. I’ve packed up so much, now I’ve got to get it all out of the boxes again. But never mind. Max says I can redecorate the place, chuck the damned boxes away if I want, start all over again.’
‘That’s good,’ said Annie cautiously.
‘Yes, it is. He’s taken Miss Arnott back too. We’re thinking about a second honeymoon. Max wants to try again.’
Annie felt sick. To her horror she felt her eyes fill with tears. Oh sure, it was over. But if all this was true, if this wasn’t just Ruthie trying to hurt her the only way she knew how, then it was hurtful. She couldn’t help how she felt, even though she wished she could.
‘He told me he talked to you at that Kieron Delaney’s art exhibition,’ went on Ruthie. ‘He said you agreed between you that it was over.’
Which they had, Annie supposed. All true. But her heart felt like a lump of lead in her chest. She wondered if this was Max’s way of getting his revenge. He knew that sooner or later she’d hear about this from someone if not from Ruthie herself. And he knew it would hurt her.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she forced herself to say.
‘So the way’s clear for me and Max to make a go of our marriage,’ said Ruthie. ‘So I have to say thank you, Annie. Thanks to you for finally giving up trying to steal my husband. It’s taken you long enough.’
‘I know that what I did was unforgivable,’ said Annie.
‘That’s right. It was,’ said Ruthie, and put the phone down.
Annie put the phone back on the cradle. Well, what had she expected? A tearful reunion, Ruthie coming over for coffee and cakes?
Oh yeah, that was sure to happen, she thought.
She looked around her, at her beautiful empty apartment. She was alone and feeling the ache. She missed the cosy chats around the kitchen table with the Limehouse girls. She missed Celia. She missed Max. She missed Ruthie more than anything. Then she jumped as the phone rang. She snatched it up. It was Ruthie, phoning back, had to be.
But