The Locksmith by Linda Calvey (reading in the dark .TXT) 📕

with Charlie and Maureen, but it was shut up until Ruby and Archie could decide what to do with it.

She watched as Bobby moved through the room, shaking someone’s hand, thumping another on the back amiably. He was in his element.

His path soon brought him back to Ruby, with Belle in tow.

‘Bobby’s the man of the hour,’ Belle announced as she took a sip of her wine.

‘To the king of The Locksmith,’ Ruby cheered.

Bobby looked both pleased and slightly embarrassed, as Belle nudged him forward. ‘Go on, you must go and chat to our guests. I’ll be fine here with Ruby.’

Ruby watched as Bobby moved off, rubbing shoulders with local celebrities and upmarket crooks. The place was heaving.

Neither woman spoke as they watched Bobby. There seemed to be a frostiness that had sprung up between them. Ruby guessed this was because of what she’d done. She couldn’t blame Belle for judging her. In Belle’s eyes she was a murderess now after all, not just a dodgy dealer. As for Ruby, it wasn’t the killing that bothered her. She didn’t feel one iota of guilt over removing Saban, but George . . . Killing George was something that never left her, that reappeared in her nightmares each and every night.

It was Belle who broke the ice.

‘You have to tell her.’ It wasn’t a statement, it was a command.

Ruby blinked.

‘I can’t do that, Belle, and by “her” I presume you mean my daughter.’ Ruby emphasised her claim as Cathy’s parent. It didn’t go unnoticed.

‘It’s your daughter who rings me every day asking about George. “Where is he? What happened to him? Is Mum lying to me?’’’ Belle’s voice was cold.

Ruby’s heart froze. She almost dropped her glass. Suddenly, the room seemed to spin. She clutched onto a bar stool for support. ‘Cathy is askin’ after George? She’s askin’ you?’

‘Yes, every night she calls. Every. Single. Night.’

‘She never told me . . .’ Ruby started to say, but then she remembered that the one time Cathy had asked after George they’d closed ranks on her, refusing to talk about him.

‘What? That she was calling me? Oh yes, every evening. She’s distraught, Ruby, absolutely distraught over what might have happened to him. He did a terrible thing, he hurt her, but he was also her uncle, more of a brother really. You can’t expect him to just disappear and not have her ask questions. I can’t keep lying to her.’

Ruby’s internal world threatened to collapse. Being told that her beloved daughter was reaching out to another woman, even if it was her aunt, felt like a physical blow, but this wasn’t the time to crumble. She willed herself to stay calm, though her heart was hammering under her designer dress.

Before she could respond, a well-known chat show host walked past, silencing both women momentarily. Ruby plastered a dazzling smile on her face and exchanged pleasantries, her laughter higher than usual. After a few minutes, the celebrity moved off, and Ruby turned back to Belle. This time she didn’t hold back.

‘So, you’ve had an attack of conscience. That’s natural. I hate lyin’ to Cathy too, but what you don’t realise is the truth would kill her, and she’d ’ave to deal with his death on top of bein’ raped. So, no, Belle, you won’t be tellin’ her and neither will I. If . . . when . . . she asks you again, you say the same thing: he’s gone for good. You got that?’

Ruby stared into her sister-in-law’s eyes, hard and fierce. Belle stared back but it was she who dropped her gaze first.

‘This is my secret, Belle, mine! I’ll take it to my grave, and I expect you to do the same, for Cathy’s sake.’

Belle took a sip of her wine, and when she replied, her voice was dull, bleak. ‘Or what?’

Ruby looked away, her anger building. She recognised that there was nothing she could do to stop Belle divulging her darkest secret. She just had to hope that, for Cathy’s sake, she’d see sense.

Belle, white-faced with fury, hissed, ‘What will you do, eh, Ruby? Cut me up and feed me to the pigs just like you did with Freddie Harris? Just like you did with your own brother? No one gets in your way, do they, Ruby? You’re a murderer, you’re a cold killer with no remorse, none at all!’

Ruby was shocked by the spite in Belle’s tone. She looked at the woman again, seeing her as if for the first time. She’d always wondered how someone as nice as Belle had managed to work in a prison alongside men who’d committed terrible crimes. It had been a Category C prison for the least dangerous men but even so, none of them were angels, yet she’d taught a bunch of hardened crooks how to paint with watercolours! She’d had to be made of stronger stuff than she appeared, but Ruby had never seen this before.

In a strange way, Ruby had a new respect for this woman who, until now, she’d dismissed as ‘straight’ and ‘nice’. Well, the niceness had gone, for now.

‘All right, Belle. So, the gloves are off. I did what I had to do, and if I had to do it again I would.’ Ruby stared back defiantly. Her voice was low but loud enough for Belle to hear every word.

‘Is that a threat?’ Belle countered, but now she looked on the verge of tears. The woman’s anger was melting away, and it made Ruby pause. She saw Belle’s guilt and how hard it was for her to be lying to Cathy, who she clearly adored. She saw how the veneer of strength had rubbed away, leaving a woman who cared for her daughter deeply. Cathy might be more like her old self these days but she was still affected, still quieter, more reserved than she’d ever been. Ruby couldn’t risk destroying the small steps forward she’d taken.

Yet, Ruby suddenly felt sorry for Belle, seeing the impossible position she was in. ‘I’m so sorry, Belle, but it must