UNDERCOVER

CHAPTER SEVEN

Honey was enjoying a nice cup of herbal tea when she saw a genuinely upset Ms Nightshade approaching her door. She went to open it.

"Honey darling, can I come in?" she asked.

Honey felt a strange relief at Ms Nightshade's visit. She was the only neighbour worth bothering with, despite her scattiness and her love of wearing a long black dress in the middle of the morning, summer and winter alike.

"Oh Honey, I've come because I thought you'd need a bit of comfort. Poor Ethan, what a horrible way to go. I hope he didn't suffer too much. You can't trust the police, you know. My friend Martin, he's a union activist and he says we should all go on strike as a protest. I would but I'm self-employed so there's no point, is there?"

"He did try to kidnap Boris Horace Sleaze at knife point."

"Boris Horace Sleaze, blah! He's a lowlife anyway. Anybody can see that your poor Ethan didn't need shooting, he needed therapy. Trigger happy, the lot of them."

By now Honey had steered Ms Nightshade into the front room, given her a cup of herbal tea, and shut the door.

She also closed the blinds.

"Thank you my dear. I'm glad you're not wearing sad colours."

Honey realised that maybe she should have worn something black instead of the bright pink jogging suit.

"Ethan wouldn't want me to" she replied quickly.

Just then poor Nightshade unleashed a torrent of grief.

"He was so young! And I know he'd been a very bad boy but I think he was a little lost inside, and… and we need to DO something, Honey… let's go to the Town Hall right now, and we'll take all our clothes off and sit outside it and…"

Honey put her hand very gently over Ms Nightshade's mouth. She didn't know why but she felt she could trust this woman.

"Ms Nightshade, please listen to me. I want you to know the truth because you care about us. Ethan's not dead."

She released Ms Nightshade's mouth but Ms Nightshade still didn't get it.

"Well not in your heart, darling, but…"

"Ethan was working undercover for the police. His shooting was a fake."

"Oh MY! Oh the brave boy. Oh that's wonderful. But where is he?"

"Even I'm not allowed to know that. But please don't tell anybody. If you do, he could be killed for real."

"Honey Raceheart, I'll have you know that when I was six years old I let Penny Puttock give me Chinese burns and never said one word because she threatened to kill Reuben if I did."

"Reuben?"

"My tortoise."

"Is he still around?"

Honey thought a bit of leverage could be good, not that she could kill a very old tortoise even if Ms Nightshade blabbed.

"No dear, he was very old. But I have a ginger cat."

Honey decided to leave well alone and just trust Ms Nightshade. She could never kill a cat after all.

Just then there was a genteel tap on the door.

THEM, thought Honey and Ms Nightshade in disgust.

Sure enough, when Honey went to the door, there were Mrs Ova-Botoxed and Miss Swishey-Pantz standing there looking pious but at the same time with their greedy eyes out for any specks of dust to blab about later.

"So brave, wearing pink! May we come in, darling?"

Honey just pointed towards the front room. They entered and their lips curled in disgust.

"Oh… Ms Nightshade."

"Don't worry, I haven't brought the rest of my coven with me. What do you want, Honey's very upset."

Honey faked a sob.

"We feel we've been rather hasty so we want to welcome you and little Melanie back to the Mother and Toddler group next week."

With exaggerated politeness, Honey replied:

"Sorry, I have to decline. I'm taking Melanie to the opium den next week."

"And I'm going to teach her how to cheat at cards. She'll soon pick it up – after all the apple doesn't fall far from the f*cking tree, does it?"

The two snobs looked in revulsion at Ms Nightshade, and saw themselves out. Honey banged the door after them.

"Deranged with grief, poor creature and relying on that pariah Nightshade for comfort", they told each other as they sashayed down the path.

Meanwhile, Honey and Ms Nightshade clung to one another laughing helplessly. Then Honey's laughter gave way to genuine tears. She needed Ethan with her, not risking his neck somewhere out there.

Several hours later, Honey tossed and turned in her lonely bed. Then she heard the doorbell ringing. Cursing, she put on her dressing gown and slippers and hurried downstairs. She looked through the spyhole in the door.

A man wearing a dark suit, a black Fedora and what seemed to be a mask, stood there.

Trying not to whoop with joy, Honey knew she could recognise the way Ethan stood anywhere.

As softly as possible, she opened the door. He glided in silently past her, she followed after locking up.

The next thing they were both in each other's arms on the carpet, making love.

The blinds were drawn, the door was locked and bolted again.

But like the song, they knew they had 'One night only.'

The following evening, two thugs were sitting in the bar of the sleazy Goldmine nightclub in London.

"So", Elvis asked, "When's he due, then?"

"Tomorrow" replied Snakebite, who, although the younger of the two, was the most dangerous. Elvis, alias Patrick Spiller, was merely a thief and con-merchant. He'd made a decent amount of money with his Elvis impersonations, and then had turned to theft when the cash ran low. Snakebite, alias Louis Fairhead, son of none other than Holby Prison's Charlie, had been thrown out by his father after various crimes, and now lived for violence. Take the call girls, for example. Snakebite loathed the Yellow Devil's policy of not slapping them around. Don't damage the goods, Devil had said. But pride goes before a fall and one day Devil would be in the river with a hole in his gut and he, Snakebite, would take over. Unless this new guy, Darrin King, wormed his way into the boss's affections and became the Devil's number one man.

King was due to call in the next night so Devil could have a private talk to him in the back.

Suddenly a tired-looking young woman came up the stairs. This was Belissima, known as Bel, whose mother had sold her to the gang to save her own miserable skin.

"I'm tired. It's hot down there and I've been dancing forever. Can I have a rest?"

Snakebite slapped her across the mouth. Devil wasn't there to see it, the bitch would be too scared to tell and the bruise would soon heal.

"MAY I have a rest, you stupid slag. Didn't Mummy's money get you any proper English lessons? No you may not have a rest. You get back down and dance, bitch."

Bel, looking totally defeated, crept back downstairs.

Elvis laughed sycophantically.

"Aww, she's all shook up."

Snakebite laughed drily and then spat.

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