Chapter 42

The news of George’s imminent return presented Deborah with two problems. She could see how to deal with the practical problem but the emotional one was more difficult. Five young women sharing one bathroom was already awkward – especially as four of them were relying on their looks for their livelihoods. That practical problem would be partially solved when Natasha moved into her new West End flat, actually a bedroom with a cooker, toilet and shower. The emotional problem, however, had been aggravated. Natasha had maintained her stony-faced silence but Deborah had managed to extract some of the details of her meeting with the man Mario had introduced her to. She had been questioned closely about her background in Albania and what she was doing in London. Natasha had acted her part and given an impression of vulnerability tinged with greed and that seemed to be the right combination to get her a backer… okay, let’s be blunt, a pimp, Deborah reluctantly admitted to herself. She was still struggling with the idea and more than once tried to persuade Natasha to change her mind. Natasha’s only comment, when pressed, had been to say that her father had once told her that you need something you are prepared to die for, to make it beautiful to live. Deborah had not known what to say. In the days while she waited for her flat to be cleared of its previous occupant, Natasha was withdrawn and her old air of amused irony had become bitter. She greeted Irma’s suggestion that the previous occupant was probably worn out or earned too low a return on the investment with a shrug of indifference. Deborah felt Natasha was building mental defences, walls against what was to come. She spent long hours just watching the hard-faced blonde. In fact she found she could not tear her eyes away. Only once did the Albanian acknowledge Deborah’s longing gaze and then she held her eyes for long seconds without any sign of emotion until Deborah had been forced to drop her gaze, blushing and uncertain whether she had given offence or revealed an emotion she did not herself understand. Self-searching analysis as she lay awake at night only led to deeper confusion and unhappiness.

Conrad and Lydia would be home any day and were paying rent and would expect a room and some privacy. Marianna was still reluctant to leave the house unaccompanied and needed to be somewhere safe with people she knew. Irma and Anna were already doing well on the door of the club and had developed the knack of spotting targets and working together but they had not yet started to earn at the top end of the range. Without savings they had little chance of finding somewhere else to live. Even after a few days they had decided that taking all-night, trains home to Croydon was too much travelling and they wanted to live closer to their work and commute by black cab. Deborah viewed their future with mild despair, sure that very little money would find its way back to Tirana or Skopje. Despite all that, she was looking for a flat for the two girls and was prepared to put down a deposit or pay rent in advance. If a reference were needed, she would ask Jill to ask Nicholas. Until they found somewhere, the little house would just have to be overcrowded. Or maybe Marianna could share with Anna and Irma. And maybe she could share with George. Maybe that would break the Natasha fixation: or maybe not.