Widows

Tony had to lift his feet high off the floor in Audrey’s kitchen to step his way through dirty laundry and rubbish bags. The ironing board was laden with creased clothes, the kitchen table still had dirty breakfast things on it, and a week’s worth of dirty dishes were stacked in the sink and all over the draining board. It was disgusting.

‘You in, Greg?’ Shirley shouted, but there was no reply. ‘I want a word with you about that car! Come down if you’re in!’

Tony took off his cashmere coat, folded it and placed it on the ironing board. ‘Just us,’ he whispered menacingly. He pulled two chairs out from the kitchen table, sat down in one and pointed at the other. ‘Sit down with me.’

Shirley was shaking. She wasn’t clever like Linda; she was scared and knew she was showing it. ‘I’ll make us a coffee,’ she said. Anything to keep her distance from Tony.

Tony had fancied Shirley ever since he first saw her five years ago, when she was still a teenager. Why she’d married that muttonhead Terry, he’d never know. Terry had brought her down the club to a private party once; Shirley must only have been about sixteen or seventeen at the time, but she was well stacked even then, fresh-looking and ripe for the taking. Tony crossed his legs and eased his crotch. He was turning himself on thinking about what he’d like to do to her.

Shirley was shaking uncontrollably, her hand trembling as she opened the fridge door to get the milk. Tony watched her bend her lovely head and sniff at the bottle.

She made a face. ‘It’ll have to be black,’ she said nervously as she flicked the kettle on.

Tony said nothing, just watched her. Every movement she made was sexy; the more flustered she got, the sexier she looked and the more it turned him on.

Shirley had to squeeze past him to get the coffee. As she did, he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her down onto his lap. She sat stiff-backed as he leaned forward and sniffed her neck. It smelt like fresh lemons. He touched the clear fresh skin and she shivered with fear as he moved his fingers up and down. Tony began to undo her shirt buttons.

‘You must know how gorgeous you are. Do you like what you do to men?’

‘No,’ Shirley stammered. ‘I don’t know... I don’t do anything on purpose.’ She tried to stop him by pushing his groping hands away but he grabbed her hard round the wrist and, with his other hand, undid another button. He let go of her wrist and was about to put his hand inside her shirt when Shirley jumped up off his knee and went for the coffee.

Tony laughed as he watched her trying to spoon out the granules, pour the boiling water and button up her shirt all at the same time. Her hands were shaking. He lit a cigarette and moved over to stand close behind her, squeezing against her body as he took the kettle out of her hands and poured the boiling water into the cup. Shirley tried to move away from him, but he placed his free arm around her waist and trapped her. ‘Shall we have that chat now?’ he asked.

‘If you like,’ Shirley said in a very small voice.

‘You know anything about Harry Rawlins’s ledgers?’

Shirley shook her head.

‘Terry ever mention them?’ Tony continued.

‘Nothing, I don’t know anything about them. I mean, I dunno even what they are.’

Tony drew on his cigarette and held it in his mouth, one arm still loose around her waist. The smoke stung her eyes, as it always did, but she was so terrified she hardly noticed.

Tony’s arm tightened round her hip, pulling her close to his body. He pushed his groin against her backside and she could feel how excited he was by the power he had over her. He was going to rape her, she was sure. He put the kettle down and pulled her shirt forward, roughly slipping his hand inside to cup her breast.

‘Lovely,’ he whispered, breathing cigarette smoke all over her.

‘What do you want?’ Shirley tried not to tremble but it was no good.

‘All in good time,’ Tony replied as he continued to fondle her. ‘Very nice. Firm but soft, all at the same time.’ Shirley’s trembling was putting him off. ‘Relax, will you? I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just want to know about those ledgers, darlin’, that’s all.’

‘I don’t know—’

Before Shirley could finish, Tony had pinned her arms against her side, taken his cigarette from his mouth and held it so close to her breast she could feel the heat.

‘Oh, God, no. Please don’t!’ Shirley screamed.

‘You still doing the beauty circuits, are you? I bet they don’t touch you with a barge pole if you’ve got the slightest blemish, do they? Sanctimonious bastards. I’d still touch every inch of you though, Shirl, don’t you worry about that. Now tell me where those ledgers are.’

‘I don’t know, Tony, I swear I don’t.’