Dirty Game (15 page)

This is crazy
, thought Annie. But she was dazed. Unable to resist. Loving it.

‘We shouldn’t do this,’ she whispered hopelessly.

‘We have to,’ groaned Max.

And it was true. They had to, the feeling was too strong, too long denied.

I’m lost
, she thought. And when he had finished and was gone, she stood there in the empty room and clutched her head in her hands and screamed with the sheer frustration of wanting him so badly – because she knew she couldn’t have him.

Her nerves were in shreds. She found a pack of Player’s and a lighter in the sideboard and smoked her first-ever cigarette. Christ, she had to do something. She sat down on the sofa, her knickers wet and her hair like a fright wig, and wondered what had hit her.

‘I’ll call you soon,’ he’d said.

Maybe he wouldn’t. She knew enough of the world to realize that this was probably a kiss-off. He’d got what he wanted after all. Annie started to choke on the cigarette. She stubbed it out and dropped her head into her hands.

‘Fuck it,’ she muttered. It was
good
that he was probably not going to come near her again. He was her sister’s husband. All right, so the marriage was in ruins, but wasn’t that her fault too? Everything was her fault. Wasn’t that what her mother had always told her? Connie might be a lush, but Annie thought now that she had probably got that exactly right.

Christ, she couldn’t believe what a pushover she’d been. One kiss and she’d crumbled into dust.
And now look at her. She didn’t know whether she felt punched or bored. Her head was all over the place. One moment she was excited, the next devastated, the next so full of guilt over Ruthie that she thought it would choke her.

‘
Fuck
it,’ she muttered again, more savagely.

There was a knock at the door. Annie pushed back her hair with a shaking hand and tried to get a grip of herself.

‘Come in,’ she called out.

Darren put his head round the door. ‘You okay in here?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine. Thanks.’

‘He’s gone then,’ said Darren.

‘Yeah. Did you show him in?’

‘Sorry. He’s not the sort you can turn away, is he?’

‘No,’ said Annie bleakly.

‘Ellie said it went well with the flats,’ said Darren.

‘Oh. Yeah. It did.’ Annie felt that the flat business had happened about twenty years ago. Long before Max had hit her like a fucking force ten gale.

‘Only we’ll have to get the room cleaned up in a bit,’ said Darren.

‘Right. Sorry,’ said Annie, standing up. Her legs felt like pipe cleaners. Max’s seed was running down her inner thighs. She felt dizzy.
Bewitched,
Bothered and Bewildered
, she thought with a shred of humour. Like the song.

‘It’s okay,’ said Darren, watching her closely. ‘That’s one gorgeous man,’ he said.

‘That’s one very dangerous man,’ corrected Annie, going upstairs to get cleaned up. ‘Okay, Darren, let’s get this show on the road. Get the room straight.’

She didn’t even notice that she’d dropped the flat details in there. Suddenly all her grand schemes didn’t seem very important at all. She wondered when he would call.
If
he would call. But then, she mustn’t answer the call if he did. Oh shit, she was in trouble, right up to her neck.

 Max phoned next day. Chris took the call and handed her the receiver. Chris’s face was blank, not showing the disapproval she was sure he must be feeling. He was a Delaney man to his bones. The Carters were the enemy.

‘Hello?’ Be cool, she thought. Show him you can take it or leave it. But her hands were clammy and her face felt hot the instant she heard his voice.

‘I’m taking you out this afternoon,’ he said.

‘Oh, are you?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘I might not be free,’ said Annie.

‘You will be.’

‘I’m pretty busy.’

‘Two o’clock. I’ll send the car.’

And he put the phone down. Annie stared at the receiver for a moment and then replaced it on the cradle. Her heart was hammering. She was
wet between the legs. I’m going mad, she thought. I’ve just made a date to meet my sister’s husband.

Without a word to Chris she went through to the kitchen where the troops were enjoying their elevenses. Dolly put a mug of tea in front of her and took Chris’s through to him.

‘Thanks,’ she said, aware that they were all watching her. Darren must have told them about Max calling yesterday. They could see she was in a state of disarray. But no one said a thing about it, and she was grateful for that.

‘I thought I’d seen it all, but the punters always come up with a new one,’ Aretha was saying to Ellie and Darren. ‘You know that stockbroker chap, that Coogan?’

‘One of your best regulars,’ nodded Ellie, eyeing the biscuits. Annie had straightened her out with the biscuit habit, and she was svelte now, but she still hankered after the bloody things.

‘I took him upstairs and was going to strap him into the Punishment Chair as usual,’ said Aretha.

The Punishment Chair had been yet another lucrative idea of Annie’s. It was set up in Aretha’s room to accommodate their more masochistic clients. It was an ordinary kitchen chair adapted with black paint, leather thongs and chains and straps. It was a big hit with certain gentlemen.

‘He likes that,’ said Darren.

Dolly came back and sat down. ‘Men are weird,’
she chipped in. ‘What’s so great about having a woman beat the crap out of you?’

Aretha shrugged. ‘Anyway, there we were all ready to get down to business when he wanders off and starts looking in my wardrobe and fingering my gear. Then he says he’s always wanted to try on women’s clothes. Well honey, I says to him, if that’s what Massa wants, then that is what Massa is gonna
get
.’

‘We aim to please,’ said Darren.

‘Indeed we do,’ agreed Aretha. ‘We was havin’ us a real good time after that. He tryin’ on my best threads and gettin’ pretty excited about the whole thing. You know he usually has a little trouble in the excitement department.’

They all nodded. The Right Hon. Philip Coogan needed a lot of stimulus to get it up.

‘But with my threads on?’ Aretha rolled her eyes. ‘Man, that boy was
away
. We on the bed, on the floor, on the chair, every damn where you care to mention. He just a natural born trannie, never admitted it to a living soul before.’

That was the secret of sexual success, Annie knew. Find out what works for you, and go with it. Like Max worked for her, maybe. But should she really go there when her sister’s happiness was involved? But then – weren’t Ruthie and Max damn near living separate lives? Wasn’t the marriage as good as over even before it had started?
And if
that
was the case, what difference would it make?

Annie drank her tea and listened with half an ear as Aretha, Ellie, Dolly and Darren chatted in the warm and cosy kitchen. First Celia’s, and now it felt like hers. Her place, filled with her friends. They soothed her, just by being there. And she knew she was going to see Max again. But only to tell him it was all over, that she had weakened once but that it was a one-off and not to be repeated. She thought of Ruthie’s face, ashen with hurt on her wedding day, and knew it was the right decision.

 She didn’t know what she had expected from him, but she hadn’t expected this. Max’s driver was there at two o’clock and he’d taken her back to the apartment in Park Street that she had visited with Ellie just yesterday. The doorman let her in and told her that Mr Carter was waiting for her up in the penthouse. She took the lift up to the top floor and stepped out straight into Max’s arms. Before she could say a word he kissed her deeply. She gave in to it and kissed him back. It would be for the last time, after all.

‘Come on,’ he said against her mouth. ‘Something to show you.’

‘I’ve already seen it,’ said Annie in bewilderment as Max walked with her into the beautiful
apartment. ‘I’m expanding the business to accommodate the Whitehall lot. I’ve rented this for six months.’

‘No you haven’t.’

Annie turned to him. ‘Yes, I
have
.’

Max shook his head. ‘You’ve been beaten to the bid, Annie love.’

‘Meaning what?’ demanded Annie.

‘Meaning I made an offer to your estate agent for a year’s rental and he told me what you’d offered and I upped it. He nearly snatched my hand off. When you get back to the house you’ll find he’s called to tell you the deal’s fallen through.’

‘But I wrote the cheque. Signed the contract.’

‘So he said. He took a bit of persuading.’

‘And tore up my contract.’

‘Correct.’

‘You really are a bastard,’ snapped Annie. ‘Why did you do that? I was so pleased with this place, I really love it. And why bring me back here? To rub my bloody face in it, I suppose.’

Max had opened the French doors on to the balcony and was gazing out at the view. He turned and came back to her and took her in his arms.

‘Don’t touch me,’ said Annie, furious. ‘I hate you.’

‘You hate the man who just got this flat for you to live in, fully furnished and with
porterage
? You hate the man who’s liberating you from that knocking shop in Limehouse? The man who’s
putting a car and a driver at your disposal, paying the fucking rent on this place, buying you anything you want?’

Annie’s jaw dropped. For a moment she couldn’t speak at all, she was too shocked.

‘
What?
’ she said at last.

Max grasped her arms and stared intently into her eyes from inches away.

‘I already said it yesterday, Annie Bailey. Weren’t you listening? I want you. You’re mine.’

Annie pulled herself free of him. ‘I’m not anybody’s,’ she said hotly.

‘Wrong. You’re
mine
,’ said Max.

‘No.’

‘You’d let anyone walk in off the street and fuck you?’ he demanded.

‘No! You know I wouldn’t do that.’

‘Only me.’

Annie swallowed. It was true. She knew it, he knew it. But this! She couldn’t take it in. It was too much. And what about all her fine intentions to cut this dead?

‘You want me to be your mistress,’ she said numbly.

‘Yes,’ he said, putting out an arm and indicating the apartment’s luscious interior. ‘I want you right here, with me.’

‘You want me on tap, whenever you feel the urge.’

‘That’s right. My mistress will want for nothing, Annie. Nothing at all.’

‘You’ve got a fucking nerve,’ she stammered. And now was the perfect time to tell him to piss off, she knew it. Again the tormenting sight of Ruthie’s face rose in her mind.

‘You already knew that. And you like it.’

‘No I fucking don’t.’ The cheek of him, storming back into her life and now trying to run it.

‘Come and see the bedroom.’

‘I saw it yesterday.’

‘Let me put that another way,’ said Max, bending and lifting her up into his arms. Annie shrieked in surprise. ‘Come and see the cunting bedroom, and shut your yap, okay?’

‘Bastard,’ said Annie.

‘Bitch,’ said Max, and walked through and dumped her on the bed, following her down on to it and stopping all further objections with his mouth on hers.

Annie looked up and there, above the bed, was Kieron’s nude of her.

‘Good God,’ she said in shock.

‘Like it?’ asked Max, his eyes following hers.

‘It’s … okay.’ Max kissed her again. ‘I still hate you for this,’ muttered Annie when he let her up for air.

But not as much as I hate myself
.

‘Hate away,’ said Max, and started stripping off her clothes.

‘I married the wrong sister,’ said Max later as they lay naked and entwined in each other’s arms.

Annie was almost asleep, she felt so relaxed. The sun was going down and the light in the apartment was dim. Annie thought she must have died and gone to heaven. How long had she dreamed of being like this with Max? Too long. But what he’d just said jolted her back to reality. He was her sister’s husband. She might fool herself that she was happy about this, but she knew it was still a mess of her own making.

‘Don’t say that,’ pleaded Annie, turning over, turning away from the truth.

Max cuddled into her back, lying with her so that they were like spoons in a drawer. It was so nice. So
right
.

‘Sorry,’ he said, and kissed her neck. ‘It’s how I feel. It was you I wanted, but you were headstrong and I thought I didn’t want that in a wife. Ruthie’s more docile, softer. You’re a powerful woman, Annie. Like my dear old mum, come to think of it. I made the choice, and I chose wrong.’

Annie screwed her eyes shut, disappearing into the dream again – her and Max, here together. Yet there was Ruthie, too, looking sad, betrayed, accusing.

She snapped her eyes open. ‘You could change it. Get divorced.’

‘No I can’t.’

His tone was so sharp that Annie turned her head to stare at him in surprise. ‘Why?’

‘
Why?
’ He drew away from her. ‘I would have thought that was pretty fucking obvious. I can’t be seen to screw up. Filing for divorce would be seen in my business as a weakness, a failure to keep my house in order.’

Annie’s face clouded. ‘So this way you get the best of both worlds,’ she said. ‘You get the respectability of having a wife, and all your mates think you’re a great big man because you’ve got a mistress set up in a fancy apartment.’

‘It’s the way it works,’ said Max.

‘What if I say no?’

‘You’ve already said yes. Four times.’

Annie thumped his chest and coloured up. He knew exactly how to please her during sex, they both knew that. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘How the fuck can you blush when you’ve been running a cathouse?’ Max was smoothing his hands down over her back, making her shiver. But there was something she had to say and she was going to say it.

‘That isn’t going to change,’ said Annie.

It was Max’s turn to look surprised. ‘You’re having a laugh.’

‘No, I’m not. Celia wanted me to sort it and I’m going to carry on doing that.’

Celia. She hadn’t thought about her in a while,
with her coiffed hair and her bright brown eyes and her ridiculous ivory ciggie holder, giving herself funny little airs and graces. She loved Celia for her kindness and her warmth. Missed her too. Annie frowned.

‘Max,’ she said.

‘Mm?’ He was looking thunderous at what she’d just said.

‘Did you hurt Celia?’

Max stiffened. ‘Why do you ask that?’

‘Because she went so suddenly,’ said Annie. She took a breath. ‘Soon after Eddie … you know. She was frightened because it happened in her house and you knew about it.’

‘I didn’t hurt her,’ said Max.

Annie breathed again. ‘Good.’

‘And I don’t want you living there any more.’

Annie stared at him. ‘We can’t all get what we want, Max,’ she said.

Max drew closer to her. They were staring eye to eye.

‘Some of us can,’ said Max. ‘Some of us always do.’

‘Not this time.’

‘I don’t want you doing it. End of.’

‘I’m going to do it. End of.’

‘No you’re fucking not.’

‘Yes I am.’

‘For your own safety.’

‘Not to save you embarrassment among your mates?’ Annie arched a brow.

‘All right, both. It can’t go on, Annie. See sense.’

Annie gave it some thought. ‘Max, it’s something I have to do,’ she said at last.

‘No,’ said Max. ‘It isn’t. Put a manager in.’

Annie gave it some more thought. A manager – now why hadn’t she thought of that? She reviewed her troops. Ellie was in the Delaneys’ pocket. A nice enough girl, but an arse-licker, as Celia had called her more than once in the course of conversation. Too eager to please and not to be trusted too far. Aretha was too bent in the head to be relied upon. Which left Dolly and Darren. Dolly! What a case. Always kicking against Annie’s authority. She got on Annie’s bloody nerves, and that was a fact. Annie knew Darren would do a good job; she often left him in charge now when she had to nip out.

‘I’ll think about it,’ said Annie.

‘Make sure you do.’

Annie looked around at the bedroom, suddenly feeling as happy as a child at Christmas. ‘Christ, how do they get the dust down off these ceilings? They’re a mile high.’

‘Not your problem,’ said Max. ‘I’ve arranged for a cleaner.’

‘You’ve arranged everything,’ said Annie, linking her arms around his neck and kissing him. ‘It’s perfect.’

‘Not mad any more?’ asked Max, kissing her right back.

‘I’ll think about that too,’ she said. But Ruthie was still there in her brain, looking sad, looking betrayed.