Читаем Widows полностью

After her sandwich, Linda was led back to the dreaded changing rooms, where she was left to fend for herself. She stood there, fully clothed, feeling like a right idiot, trying not to look at all the bums and tits brazenly walking by. She couldn’t cope for long and, head down, she walked swiftly out.

As she wandered round the gym, Linda glanced over at the exercise bikes. At first she hardly recognized Shirley, she looked so thin and worn out, but it was her all right. Linda started to wander over but was stopped by one of the attendants who informed her she was not allowed in the exercise area without the right clothes.

‘Oi!’ Linda shouted at Shirley. ‘Feelin’ peckish?’

Shirley turned and, recognizing Linda, stopped pedaling. Linda bustled past the attendant. The women didn’t hug as neither seemed certain that was the right thing to do, so Linda just said, ‘Been a while, ain’t it?’

They quickly established that they had last spoken at a cocktail party somewhere or other about two years previously. Linda’s memory of events was nowhere near as clear as Shirley’s due to the free bar, but Shirley filled in the blanks. The bottom line was that the cocktail party had been a Harry Rawlins do — and it was Dolly Rawlins who had called them both out of the blue and told them to meet her here.

Neither Shirley nor Linda knew exactly why they’d been summoned, but they both hoped it was to do with a handout of cash; they couldn’t even begin to imagine what else it might be.

‘Well, whatever the reason,’ said Shirley, ‘I’m going enjoy the spa facilities while I can. Come on!’ She headed for the changing rooms, shyly followed by Linda.

Shirley quickly changed into the fluffy white towel provided while Linda, trying and failing to look at ease, focused on her chipped nails, avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone. Shirley handed her a towel. ‘Relax — Dolly’s paying,’ she said kindly.

Linda had forgotten how beautiful Shirley was, how easily elegant and womanly. Even under a square towel, Shirley was a stunning shape, with her hair and make-up immaculate. Linda wasn’t going to let Shirley see how insecure she was so she attempted to make a joke.

‘I don’t want to drive the fellas wild by exposing my body, Shirl.’

‘It’s only women here.’

Defeated, Linda snatched the towel from Shirley. ‘Well, I’m not taking my bra and knickers off. They might get nicked!’ she snapped as she bundled into a cubicle for some privacy. When Linda bent to remove her shoes, she could see the now-seated Shirley looking in at her. ‘Bleedin’ ’ell!’ Linda’s dulcet tones echoed round the changing room. ‘What’s the point in having a soddin’ door that stops two foot off the ground!’ When Linda stood back up, she was head and shoulders above the top of the door and Shirley couldn’t stifle her giggles. ‘It’s like getting changed behind a postage stamp! I might as well be out there with you!’ Linda draped her arms over the top of the door and the two women howled with laughter for the first time since they’d heard the news.

By 11:30 a.m., Shirley was relaxing with her eyes closed in the bubbling, milky water of the jacuzzi and Linda was sitting on the edge, warming her feet and ankles. Her red satin bra was visible above the white towel and she’d dropped crumbs into the water from the cheese sarnie — but she didn’t care.

‘A good screw is as good as an hour’s exercise, did you know that? And it don’t cost you an annual membership fee, I can tell you,’ Linda laughed at herself as she stuffed the last of her sandwich into her mouth and washed her hands in the jacuzzi. ‘Course you can’t just lie there and take it, you’ve got to do some of the work.’

‘Don’t you ever talk about anything else?’

‘Well, I’m not getting any, am I? Me and Joe were at it pretty much every night.’ Linda’s mood dipped as she remembered her husband. ‘There’s a lot of adjusting to be done, I can tell you.’

Shirley opened one eye and glared at Linda. Was being celibate for a month really the biggest adjustment after your husband’s been blown sky high in a botched bank job?

By midday, Dolly still hadn’t appeared and Linda was getting tetchy. Shirley was now naked on the sunbeds and Linda was sitting by her side sipping coffee, eating a chocolate bar and moaning about the money.

‘If she’s a no-show, I’ve spent a bloody fortune on food I didn’t even want! I’m fatter now than when I arrived! Some bleedin’ health spa this is.’

‘She’ll be here. Keep your voice down.’ Shirley whispered. She’d forgotten quite how embarrassing Linda could be sometimes, even when she wasn’t drinking. In fact, Shirley had wondered if Linda had sneaked a drop of vodka into her coffee, because she was definitely getting louder. Twice she had fed bits of biscuit to the parrots that were in cages hanging from huge fern plants. The attendants had asked her not to, but she’d ignored them. She’d also been making loud remarks and laughing at some of the woman’s figures, calling them stick insects.

Перейти на страницу:

Похожие книги

Свой — чужой
Свой — чужой

Сотрудника уголовного розыска Валерия Штукина внедряют в структуру бывшего криминального авторитета, а ныне крупного бизнесмена Юнгерова. Тот, в свою очередь, направляет на работу в милицию Егора Якушева, парня, которого воспитал, как сына. С этого момента судьбы двух молодых людей начинают стягиваться в тугой узел, развязать который практически невозможно…Для Штукина юнгеровская система постепенно становится более своей, чем родная милицейская…Егор Якушев успешно служит в уголовном розыске.Однако между молодыми людьми вспыхивает конфликт…* * *«Со времени написания романа "Свой — Чужой" минуло полтора десятка лет. За эти годы изменилось очень многое — и в стране, и в мире, и в нас самих. Тем не менее этот роман нельзя назвать устаревшим. Конечно, само Время, в котором разворачиваются события, уже можно отнести к ушедшей натуре, но не оно было первой производной творческого замысла. Эти романы прежде всего о людях, о человеческих взаимоотношениях и нравственном выборе."Свой — Чужой" — это история про то, как заканчивается история "Бандитского Петербурга". Это время умирания недолгой (и слава Богу!) эпохи, когда правили бал главари ОПГ и те сотрудники милиции, которые мало чем от этих главарей отличались. Это история о столкновении двух идеологий, о том, как трудно порой отличить "своих" от "чужих", о том, что в нашей национальной ментальности свой или чужой подчас важнее, чем правда-неправда.А еще "Свой — Чужой" — это печальный роман о невероятном, "арктическом" одиночестве».Андрей Константинов

Евгений Александрович Вышенков , Андрей Константинов , Александр Андреевич Проханов

Криминальный детектив / Публицистика