Shafted (44 page)

Murmuring, ‘I will,’ she swallowed hard to keep herself from bursting into tears, her gaze focussing anywhere but on Larry because she just couldn’t bear to look at him. Although the view she was confronted with instead did nothing to make her feel any better; just this awful starkly furnished room, with gloss green walls and one filthy heavily barred window.

Signing the register when it was all over, Larry held her in his arms and kissed her, whispering, ‘You look beautiful, Mrs Logan.’

Smiling sadly, Stephanie averted her gaze again, unable to muster the energy to return the compliment. She knew she looked lovely in her cream silk dress and jacket, with her hair tied in a French pleat and her make-up immaculate. But this was not how she’d envisaged her wedding day, and that was upsetting her more than she’d imagined it would now that she’d gone through with it.

She’d always dreamed of the full white gown and veil, with her family on one side of the church and her groom’s on the other, all joining together as one at the lavish reception afterwards. Not that her family would have come, knowing that her dream groom was a man they loathed. And Dex’s family would only have come under sufferance. But it had been her dream nonetheless, and now she’d trashed it by exchanging meaningless vows in a horrible prison room, with a man she didn’t love and right now actually resented.

Thanking her for believing in him and standing by him in his hour of need, Larry turned to his solicitor and rubbed his hands together, saying, ‘Have you got the paperwork?’

‘Yes, it’s all here,’ Doug said, taking a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase and laying them on the table. Looking Larry straight in the eye, letting him know that this was the time to pull out if he was going to, he said, ‘Absolutely sure about this?’

‘Positive,’ Larry said, sitting down and smiling up at Stephanie, who was looking down at the small posy of cream roses she was holding as if they were riddled with greenfly. ‘She’s the one who’s got to live there, so she needs to know she’s secure until we know when I’m getting out of here. Not too long now with any luck, though, eh?’

Saying, ‘Absolutely. Any day,’ Doug exchanged a hooded glance with Georgie. Things were nowhere near as positive as Larry seemed to imagine, and Doug was struggling to build any kind of plausible defence against the overwhelming weight of evidence against his client.

In truth, Doug knew that, based on the evidence alone, even
he
would have been hard pushed not to think that Larry was as guilty as sin, and if it hadn’t been for Georgie’s passionate conviction to the contrary he might well have written him off a long time ago. But the judge wouldn’t have the benefit of Georgie’s unswerving belief to sway him, and Doug truly didn’t hold out any hope of Larry getting an easy ride of it once it reached court. In fact, Larry was looking at a pretty hefty sentence, in Doug’s professional opinion.

Looking lovely in her powder-blue suit, with her unruly grey hair tamed into a chignon, and a rare coat of pink lipstick, Georgie was well aware of Doug’s opinions, because they were pretty much the same as her own concerning the probable outcome of Larry’s case. But she was grateful to Doug for maintaining a confidence he obviously didn’t feel, because that allowed her to keep her own negative thoughts at bay.

Acting as witness now when Larry signed his apartment and control of his bank accounts and various other financial interests over to Stephanie, she pushed all thought of his case aside and struggled to quash her misgivings about the matter at hand. She’d tried to talk Larry out of doing this when he had first proposed it, fearing that he was making rash decisions which might adversely affect his future should anything go wrong with Stephanie. He’d been adamant that it was what he wanted to do, so she’d had to accept it in the end, but she was still nervous about it.

Signing the forms now, she sighed, trying to convince herself that it wasn’t such a bad thing. Negative instincts aside, Stephanie obviously loved Larry dearly to stand by him like this in his hour of need. And Georgie had to admit that she wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever dated, because she’d never once tried to wheedle money out of him or use his fame to further herself. And as Larry had said, who better to make sure that he still had something to come out to than his lovely, legal wife.

Hustling Stephanie straight into her car after the short soulless ceremony, keeping a keen eye out in case any paparazzi had got wind of the proceedings, Georgie waited until the new Mrs Logan had covered herself with the blanket they’d brought along for the occasion, then set off.

‘You can come out now,’ she said after a while, when they were completely clear of the prison and she was sure that no vehicles were following. Smiling at Stephanie when she uncovered herself and pulled the sunshade down to repair her hair in the vanity mirror, she said, ‘That went as well as could be expected, didn’t it?’

‘Mmm,’ Stephanie murmured, not looking half as happy as Georgie would have expected her to, given that she was now the proud wearer of Larry Logan’s rather impressive platinum and enormous-diamond wedding-cum-engagement ring.

Sensing that Stephanie was just sad because she’d had to leave her new husband behind so soon after exchanging her vows, and that she wasn’t looking forward to the lonely honeymoon period she was facing, Georgie said, ‘Don’t worry, dear. Doug’s determined to get him as light a sentence as possible, so, fingers crossed, you’ll be back together before too long.’

‘Hope so,’ Stephanie said, gazing out of the window.

Looking at her as she sighed and gazed the next couple of miles away, Georgie clutched for something to talk about because the silence was pressing in on her. Clearing her throat after a while, she said, ‘Can I ask why you don’t use your real name, dear?’

‘It
is
my real name,’ Stephanie told her, folding her arms as if she really didn’t want to talk about this. ‘Well, my middle name, anyway. I just don’t like Gaynor all that much.’

‘Your mother obviously preferred it,’ Georgie said. Then, afraid that she’d offended her when she saw Stephanie’s jaw clench ever so slightly, she said, ‘Sorry, my love. I’m just too nosy for my own good sometimes. You’re entitled to call yourself whatever you like.’

‘I know,’ Stephanie muttered, turning her face even more towards the window so that Georgie wouldn’t see the tears that were clouding her eyes again.

Gaynor was her name when she was living her
real
life, as Dex Lewis’s woman. But Stephanie was the insignificant part of herself which she had given to Larry Logan. And that was how it would stay until this was all over. And the sooner it came to an end the better, because she felt sick inside knowing that she was someone else’s wife. And it might have been Dex’s idea, but it still felt like she’d betrayed him in the worst possible way.

She just thanked God that the press hadn’t caught on, because there was no way she could handle the shame of other people finding out what she’d done.

24

Nora was woken by loud, continuous knocking on the front door below, interspersed with annoying blasts on the bell, which echoed through the hall and up the stairs and curled itself around her head until her eyes popped open.

Yelling, ‘For fuck’s sake, pack it in, whoever you are!’ she shoved her quilt aside and dropped her feet down to the floor. Sliding them into her slippers, she winced as she stood up and hobbled across the room to get her dressing gown off the hook on the back of the door.

Molly was just coming out of hers and Lyla’s room when she reached the landing. Brushing past her, Nora said, ‘Shut that flaming door, before she wakes up an’ all.’

Grumbling her way down the stairs then, she grumbled some more as she struggled to slide the heavy bolts back. Then she yanked the door open, snarling,‘Don’t you bloody dare!’when she caught Jane raising her hand to ring the bell again. ‘You could hear me unlocking it, so why couldn’t you just bloody wait like any normal person?’

‘This can’t wait,’ Jane said, brushing past her into the hall and pushing the door shut. Grabbing Nora’s arm, she shoved a newspaper under her nose. ‘Look!’

Wrenching her arm out of Jane’s grip, Nora headed for the kitchen, muttering, ‘What’s the point of telling me to bloody look when you can see I ain’t got me flaming glasses on?’

‘Where are they?’ Jane asked, rushing after her. ‘Are they in your bedroom? I’ll get them for you.’

‘Belt up, for gawd’s sake,’ Nora snapped, reaching for the kettle. Then, as if she was talking to someone else, she said, ‘First she wakes me up in the middle of the flaming night by trying to hammer me flaming door down. Then she’s after going into me bedroom. Liberty, that’s what she is . . . a flaming liberty merchant.’

‘Nora, just quit fucking moaning and get your fucking
glasses
!’ Jane yelled, losing patience. ‘You need to see this picture!’

Coming into the room just then, Molly glared at her mother and said, ‘What you doing round here so early? Not like you to crawl out of bed before teatime.’

Snatching up the newspaper which Nora had tossed onto the table, Jane thrust it into her daughter’s face, and said, ‘Look at that, and tell me what you see.’

Narrowing her eyes, Molly looked at the picture on the front page. It was really grainy, and she couldn’t make it out properly. But there was no mistaking the headline.

‘Larry Logan’s got fucking married!’ she squawked, her young voice filled with indignation.

Barking,‘Mind your language, you!’ Nora pulled her glasses out of her pocket where they’d been all along and shoved them on. Snatching the paper out of Molly’s hand now, she looked at it and said, ‘Well, the cheeky bloody bastard! And look at him grinning his flaming head off like butter wouldn’t bloody melt, and all the time he’s been fiddling with kids! They shouldn’t have allowed it! I’m gonna make a flaming complaint about this, you watch!’

‘Shut up spouting off, and look who he’s
with
,’ Jane said, leaning over both of their shoulders now and jabbing a finger down on the bride’s partially hidden face.

Bringing the paper up close to her own face, squinting her eyes, Nora peered at the face. Then she literally staggered back against Jane, spluttering,‘Holy Mary, Mother of God! I don’t fucking believe it!’

‘What?’ Molly asked, looking at her nan and mother as they stared at each other, both shaking their heads. ‘Who is it? What’s going on?’

Flopping down onto her chair at the table, Nora lit a cigarette with shaking hands, and said, ‘It’s that bloody Gaynor, that’s who.’

‘Don’t lie!’ Molly scoffed, reaching for the paper to see for herself, sure that they were imagining things. It took her a few seconds, but when she saw it she said, ‘Fucking hell! It
is
her, an’ all!’

‘Didn’t I just tell you that?’ Nora snapped, giving her granddaughter a hefty whack on the arm.‘Now quit shouting before you wake Lyla up, and get them brews made while me and your mam figure out what to do about it.’

‘No figuring out to be done,’ Molly snarled, her eyes flashing with hatred and thoughts of revenge as she stomped across to the cupboard and dragged three cups out. ‘I’m gonna smash her fucking face in!’

‘If I have to tell you one more time about your language,’ Nora warned her, ‘it’ll be me smashing
your
face in!’ Shaking her head now, she turned to Jane, and said,‘No wonder you sent her packing, if this is how she carries on in front of you.’

‘Nowt to do with me,’ Jane retorted indignantly. ‘It’s you lot who’ve brought her up, so it’s down to you if she swears like a docker.’

‘Like bloody hell!’ Nora snorted.

‘Shut up, the pair of you,’ Molly snapped, folding her arms and glaring at them. ‘I’m nearly sixteen, for God’s sake. I can talk how I like.’

Narrowing her eyes, Nora said, ‘You’d best not let your dad hear you talking to me like this, lady, ’cos nearly sixteen or not, he’ll kick the crap right out of you!’

‘Can we just stop arguing and get back to the important thing,’ Jane suggested, sensing that they were going to get nowhere if they carried on like this. ‘We need to decide what we’re going to do about this before Dex gets the shock of his life.’

‘Mmm,’ Nora murmured grudgingly, a worried frown creasing her already furrowed brow. ‘I suppose we’re going to have to tell him. But he ain’t gonna like it, and I dread to think what’ll happen if he kicks off. They’re always looking for an excuse to put him in solitary and give him a beating, them screws.’

‘Well, he’s gonna kick off either way,’ Jane said quietly. ‘We all know that. Least if we tell him, we can break it to him gently.’

Nodding her agreement, Nora looked up when Molly brought the teas to the table, saying, ‘Ta, pet. You’re a good girl.’

Sitting down, Molly reached for her nan’s cigarettes and slid one out of the pack. Lighting it, she said, ‘I reckon he’s better off without the slag, and we should go round there and beat the living shit out of her – make sure she don’t get any ideas about blagging him that it wasn’t her, or anything. ’Cos you know what me dad’s like. He’ll probably believe her.’

Eyes narrowed and glinting with hatred, Nora said, ‘Oi, you! I hope that ain’t the lighter Logan give you what I just saw you using. ’Cos if you’re still hanging on to that after everything that’s happened, you’re no granddaughter of mine, and that’s a fact!’

Blushing, because she hadn’t meant to take it out in front of her nan, Molly put it down on the table as if it had burned her, and said, ‘Shit! I’d forgot he give it to me.’ It was a lie, because she’d never wanted to get rid of it. But how was she supposed to explain to her vengeful family that, much as she hated Larry, she still felt perversely proud to own something that had once belonged to a famous person? She’d kept it hidden for so long, but now she’d lost it through her own stupidity.

Picking it up now, Nora pocketed it, saying, ‘Yeah, well, think on next time, ’cos your dad would have had a fit if he’d caught you with that.’