The Exciting Life (2 page)

‘
Does this place belong to you?’

Annie
looked round and for a moment, took a sharp intake of breath.
Hanging around with Mario and his racing driver friends, she was
used to talking to good-looking men, but this one was something
else. His black, velvet suit was a little too much, but he was tall
and very handsome, with swept back auburn hair and the most
beautiful light green eyes Annie had ever seen. She certainly
didn’t recognise him, and Sylivo’s words of warning about the good
looking stranger came to mind.

‘
Yes it does,’ she replied. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met
before.’

‘
Patrick Collins,’ he said, offering his hand.

‘
Annie Holland. What brings you here?’

‘
A business interest,’ he said, looking around. ‘It’s a nice
club.’

He
certainly didn’t look like a villain and he was quite well-spoken
for someone who’d been raised in the East End – as most of the
local gangsters had. Maybe he was a respectable businessman, and
this got Annie thinking. If she could get a viable offer for
Bruno’s, she’d take it. It had never been her ambition to run a
nightclub anyway. But the money would have to make it worth her
while.

‘
Well now isn’t the time to discuss business,’ she replied,
playing it cool. ‘Can I get you a drink Mr Collins?’

‘
Patrick, please,’ he grinned. His smile was wolfish and there
was a cheeky glint in his eyes that made Annie’s stomach quiver a
little. There was an air of danger about him, but she didn’t know
why - on the surface he seemed so respectable. ‘I’d love a drink,
thank you. Why don’t you join me and my friends? We’re in the booth
over there.’

He
pointed to the booth in the corner, where there sat a young man who
was far too fat for his years; his dark hair was slicked back from
his brow, and as he smiled at the fat blonde next to him - who was
squeezed into a shiny silver dress; his white pointed teeth
reminded Annie of Dracula.

‘
Okay,’ Annie replied. ‘I’ll get you your drinks first. What
would you like?’

‘
Champagne,’ he smiled. ‘I think this is the right occasion,
don’t you?’

As Annie
walked to the bar, she realised he hadn’t given her any money for
the drinks, and she laughed at his cheek.

‘
Who’s that?’ purred Mandy, as Annie stood beside
her.

‘
He’s called Patrick Collins,’ Annie replied. ‘He wants me to
join him and his friends.’

Eric,
the barman came over to them, a fraught expression on his
face.

‘
You know who that is don’t you?’ he said.

‘
Should I?’

‘
Bernie Collins’ boy.’

‘
Bernie Collins?’

‘
He was the geezer Mario won this place off of.’

Annie’s
blood ran cold. This Patrick had come to settle a score. Offering
money for the place wasn’t going to be an option. He was probably
going to threaten her instead.

‘
Well he isn’t getting it back,’ Annie said bravely.

‘
If Bernie Collins wants something, he’ll take it,’ Eric
warned. ‘Only a fool would say no to him.’

Annie
got a bottle of Moet in an ice bucket and some glasses, and tried
to still her shaking hands as she took it over to the booth.
Patrick was sitting with his arm around the fat blonde’s shoulder,
and she looked like the cat who’d got the cream - no doubt proud
that she’d managed to collar such a handsome man. Annie sat beside
the other man, who looked at her and smiled lasciviously – his
sweaty face making her feel quite queasy.

‘
This is Annie, the owner of the place,’ Patrick said. ‘Annie,
this is my friend Dave, and this is my girlfriend
Trixie.’

Annie
dared to make eye contact with Patrick and had to look away
quickly. Those piercing eyes seemed to bore right through her, as
if they could see into her very soul. She couldn’t risk that - he’d
see how scared she was of what he was going to do to her or her
club.

‘
Nice place,’ Dave said in a rather high-pitched, stupid
sounding voice. ‘You had it long?’

‘
Don’t be so rude Dave,’ Patrick said. ‘You know darn well that
Annie only got this place because her husband died.’ He looked at
Annie and gave a little nod. ‘Please excuse my friend,’ he said.
‘And accept my condolences at the death of Mario. He was a great
racer.’

‘
It’s been six months now,’ Annie said. ‘I’m starting to come
to terms with it all.’

‘
You’re very brave. I bet it gets hard though. Trying to run
the place by yourself.’

‘
I manage,’ she replied. ‘I have very good staff. Are you going
to pour that champagne?’

‘
Yes of course.’

As he
poured the drinks, Annie looked at Trixie, whose smile wasn’t
reaching her cold, blue eyes.

‘
So what do you do Trixie?’ Annie asked.

‘
I’m an actress,’ she replied in a brash Cockney voice. ‘Pat’s
going to get me into films.

‘
Is he now?’ Annie said. ‘Are you in the film business
Patrick?’

‘
I have my fingers in many pies,’ he replied, glancing up at
her with that sly smile and making her blush.

He
passed Trixie her glass of champagne and kissed her on the
cheek.

‘
Do you know darling, I think I spotted Diana Dors over there
by the door?’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go and see if you can talk to
her? You need to meet people if you’re gonna get on.’

‘
You think she’d talk to me?’ Trixie gasped, clutching her
chest.

‘
Course she would. Go on, try your luck.’

Trixie
wriggled past Patrick and wandered off into the club. Dave saw this
as his cue to leave, and banged his hands on his knees and stood
up.

‘
Where’s the little boy’s room love?’ he asked
Annie.

‘
At the end of that corridor over there.’

‘
Thanks love.’

He too
left, and Patrick slid over to Annie so he was sitting close to
her. He smelt of cigarettes and aftershave and soap, and Annie knew
that smell would remain in her nose for the rest of the
night.

‘
Diana Dors isn’t here,’ she quipped. ‘She wouldn’t be seen
dead in a place like this.’

‘
Yeah but I wanted to get rid of Trixie didn’t I? I wanted to
talk business with you.’

‘
I know who you are,’ she said. ‘My barman told me. This place
used to belong to your father, before Mario won if off him in a
card game.’

‘
Smart as well as beautiful,’ he nodded. ‘I didn’t realise
you’d cotton on to me so quickly.’

‘
This is my livelihood Patrick. I have to know everything
that’s going on. I take it you want to take it back off
me?’

He
smiled and sipped his champagne.

‘
It’s always pissed Dad off that he lost this club. It was a
good little earner for him.’

‘
So why has he sent you to do his bidding?’

‘
Because he didn’t want to use his normal tactics on you. You
are a lady after all.’

‘
So if I was a man I’d be on the receiving end of his violence
then?’

‘
Probably.’

‘
But you’re not violent?’

‘
No, I try to remain professional.’

He
looked up and frowned. Annie followed his gaze and noticed Trixie
heading back towards them, her face like thunder.

‘
Have dinner with me,’ Patrick quickly said to
Annie.

‘
No,’ she replied.

‘
I need to talk to you about the business.’

‘
It’s not for sale. That’s all there is to it.’

She got
up just as Trixie reached the table.

‘
You alright darling?’ Patrick asked.

‘
That weren’t fucking Diana Dors!’ she cried. ‘It was some old
tart who was about forty.’

‘
I must need glasses,’ he laughed nervously. Annie made a quick
escape, and headed over to Mandy, who was still at the bar,
chatting to the older man.

‘
I’m going home,’ she announced to her friend

‘
But you’ve got to be here to see the New Year in,’ Mandy
frowned.

‘
I’ve lost the desire to party,’ Annie said. ‘You be my
stand-in for the night.’

Annie
grabbed her coat from the cloakroom and left the club, running up
the steps to the street. When she reached the top, she found
herself gasping for air. What had just happened had frightened her.
If she lost Bruno’s, she would lose everything. And if Patrick
didn’t succeed in getting her club off her, then what sort of
violence would his father resort to to ensure he did? Since Mario’s
death, everything had gone so wrong for her, and she couldn’t look
forward to the coming New Year. She just wanted to go home, shut
the door and think about her next move. She was determined not to
hand over the club to a thug, and face a life of poverty or be
forced to scrounge off her adopted family. Mario had left her very
little, but she was determined to hang onto what she
had.

Chapter Two

It was
hard for Annie not to think back to her twenty-fourth birthday.
Mario had whisked her away from the misery of wintery London, to
Nice, where they’d holidayed on his friend’s yacht – drinking
champagne and eating the finest food. How different her
twenty-fifth birthday was. She was at the club, wearing one of
Mario’s old shirts and a pair of Capri pants, her sleeves rolled
up, supervising a drinks delivery. Annie hated seeing the club in
daylight; it just highlighted the un-even floor, the scuffed wood
on the bar and tables and the peeling wallpaper. It was a dump, and
she wondered if Patrick Collins offered her enough money she should
take it. Right now, it seemed like a welcome escape.

She was
standing over the cellar door as Eric took the boxes of vodka down
the precarious steps, when a call came from behind her.

‘
Is there anyone in?’

Annie
turned around and gasped in shock when she saw her Aunt Alice
standing there. Despite being nearly seventy; and her once lustrous
dark hair now grey and cut into a short bob, she still exuded the
sort of glamour which came from being one of the world’s most
famous actresses.

‘
Aunt Alice,’ Annie said, running over to her and grasping her
hands. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘
Well, I’m doing a short run in Blythe Spirit at the Garrick.
So I thought I’d pop in and see what my gorgeous niece is going for
her birthday.’

‘
Not a lot, as you can see,’ Annie sighed. ‘Life has to go
on.’

‘
Well I’m sure things can get done without you here for a
couple of hours. How about I take you to lunch? I’ve a little
present for you.’

‘
Look at me,’ Annie wined, looking down at herself. ‘I’m hardly
dressed appropriately.’

Alice
reached up and undid Annie’s pony-tail. Her hair cascaded around
her ears, and Alice then reached into her handbag and pulled out a
comb, passing it to Annie.

‘
Brush your hair, put on some lippy and you’ll look lovely.
Come on, I’m taking you to Channings.’

As they
walked into Channings – the upmarket brassiere on Piccadilly,
several heads turned. Older patrons would no doubt recognise Alicia
Bloom, the beautiful movie star from the 1920s and 30s; and those
too young to recall her film career were probably just staring
because two stunning women had entered. Over the years people had
often mistaken Alice and Annie for mother and daughter - they were
both tall, willowy and dark haired. They even had the same big,
dark eyes and generous mouth. But apart from originating from
Battersea, they were not blood relatives. Alice had been married to
Nesta’s brother James. But Annie had always looked on her as her
aunt, and they got on so well.

They
were given the best table in the house, near to the open fire at
the back, and the maitre d’ fawned all over Alice, clearly
recognising her. She ordered a couple of gin and tonics and told
him to go away until she and Annie had decided what to
eat.

‘
So, have you heard from your brother?’ Alice asked.

‘
No. He’s still in Newcastle as far as I’m aware. I think
Tanner Beresford are building a housing estate somewhere or the
other. I’m not really interested.’

‘
It’s such a shame about you two. You were so close when you
were little.’

‘
I just wish Kenneth would stop taking life so seriously all
the time,’ Annie sighed. ‘I know he wants to run Tanner Beresford
as best as he can, but he continually makes me feel stupid because
I want to live the good life. Is that so bad?’

‘
No, not at all. Life’s for living, but I suppose with Nesta in
Switzerland, Kenneth feels he has no one else to lean
on.’

‘
But it was his idea to put her in that convalescent home in
Geneva. I was quite happy for her to be looked after at Elliott
House, with a nurse living in. I’ll never forgive him for putting
her in Clinique de Valmont, then knocking down Elliot House so they
could build a housing estate. That house had been in Uncle
Michael’s family for centuries.’