Chapter Thirty-Five

Clayton pulled up outside his house. They’d barely got inside when the bell rang.

Pamela answered the door and saw two police officers standing there. No one ever called the police round here unless it was serious. She braced herself.

‘Mrs Pamela Maylett, can we come in? I’m afraid we’ve got some bad news about your husband.’

The next twenty-four hours were a blur. Pamela was hysterical when she got the news, while Clayton’s fury burned white hot – until they were both taken in for questioning, only to be released without charge the next day.

Karla took Elsa home, and waited for the police to come calling. But as the hours stretched on, she wondered if she was in the clear. Maybe it hadn’t been a set-up – maybe she had a guardian angel out there, after all.

Jordan’s funeral was a quiet affair. Pamela always thought the police had turned a blind eye to some of what went on at Passion, and she suspected the kickbacks her husband had given them in life now took the heat off him, even in death. A few of the club’s dancers came along to the short service, a whirl of black netting veiling their faces, their heels clicking across the cemetery path. No one looked twice at Angela, dabbing her eyes and dropping a rose on top of the coffin.

Lenny Jackson was laid to rest three weeks later. It was a big funeral and anyone who was anyone was there showing their respect to the man who had ruled this side of Manchester for as long as they could remember. Lenny’s son stood tall at his graveside and held a stiff upper lip. Clayton stood watching them from a distance. This war was far from over, but he knew he needed to retreat and lick his wounds. Tease was gone – but the rivalry between Passion and Lush Laps would soon be as fierce ever. Already the girls were back on stage at each club under the heat of the lights. The feud between Jordan and Lenny would live on through their sons – blood was thicker than water, after all – and with every passing day Clayton was planning his revenge. He would be the next big man in Manchester, he’d make sure of it.

Mary was worried about her granddaughter. Elsa was quiet, and on her phone a lot. Karla had already moved on to her latest man; the one who she was sure this time would change her life, the one who would treat her like a princess. Mary knew her daughter would always fall on her feet. But Elsa was different. She talked less and went out more. Mary didn’t know exactly what had happened at the farmhouse that night, but she knew something had changed in her granddaughter.

Elsa knew exactly what had changed. When she’d got back from Lenny’s, she’d not wanted to unpack, to look at the tiny rhinestone costume she’d worn that night. But she knew she had to face her demons at some point, and she pulled out the large black leather bag. Slowly, she dragged the zip across the bag to open it. She blinked as she stared and stared at its contents. Dropping her hand inside, she pulled out wads of money, big bundles of it. She held it up to her nose and inhaled the smell from it. A smirk appeared across her face as she quickly rammed the money back inside the bag. She held her head high. This was her father’s last and only gift to her.

I’ll show them all when I open my own club, she thought. Just wait. One day soon, I’ll be the biggest name Manchester has ever seen. Nobody will ever forget me. Trust me, I’m no tease. It’s just a matter of time.