‘Don’t worry, Big Guy. We’ll get this “situation” sorted and then we’ll put things right with you and mister lover lover.’
I put my hands in prayer, smiling. ‘Please don’t. I promise you; I can handle it.’
The Dollz have a horrendous track record when it comes to interfering with my love life.
Thumping footsteps on the bridge alert us to the arrival of Big Mand. She reaches us and immediately bends double, catching her breath.
‘Where have you been?’ I ask.
Her head jerks up, her eyes connecting with Big Sue’s. ‘Nowhere,’ they say in unison.
I suppress a tiny smirk. ‘Okaaaay.’ I won’t pry, but they are being very, very cute.
Next to arrive is Liberty. She is holding Cherry upright. Cherry’s chin has flopped down onto her chest. ‘It’s okay, she’s just a bit tipsy. Nothing a strong coffee won’t fix.’ Liberty props Cherry against the bridge railing and we watch her slide slowly down to the floor. Legs akimbo, head slumped on her shoulder, red hair splayed across her face. Not what I’d call battle ready.
‘We’re here!’ yells Tash. Sister Kevin is clamped to her. My heart sinks. I hope she’s not pissed as well.
‘Where have you been?’ I ask as they approach.Every single casino serving free booze from here to the Mojave Desert?
‘Nowhere,’ they say in unison. They are out of breath and clearly agitated. Sister Kevin’s cheeks colour.
My eyes dart to Big Sue, who immediately inspects her nails. What are they all hiding? I make a mental note to quiz them later. After all, I did spot them all hiding from each other in the wedding department at Macy’s. But at the moment, all my brain can think about is Hank Junior and what to do about him.
I’m pinning my hopes on Tash having a sensible pharmaceutical solution to the Cherry situation. Maybe we can hook her up to one of these vitamin drips that seem to be everywhere. Tash drops down to check on Cherry. ‘Nothing a good strong coffee won’t fix,’ she says,echoing Liberty, as she straightens back up. She seems sober as a judge to me, if not overly confident in the powers of caffeine.
‘I know just the place,’ says Ged from behind me. He and Liam hold up takeaway coffees, their pupils the size of dinner plates. ‘Turbo Charge Cannonball Coffee. It’s amazing.’
‘We’ve been awake for nearly thirty-six hours,’ says Liam, twitching. One of his eyes is independently straying to the left. ‘I’m incredibly focused right now. And we’re so full of energy. I might never sleep again.’
‘Perfect,’ says Liberty, stooping to grab one of Cherry’s arms. I bend down to help.
‘We need a plan,’ I say. Even now that the Dollz are all here, this birthday performance is going to suck big time. Nobody will have their head in the game because of Hank Junior looming over us. I really hope Eddie is some kind of geriatric who won’t notice.
‘Agreed,’ says Liberty, sounding too quiet. She makes eye contact with me as we hunch down over Cherry’s limp body. I notice the dark circles beneath her eyes and her pale complexion. ‘I’m sorry I caused all of this, Connie. I really am.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I’m quick to say. ‘How were you supposed to know Hank Junior was a mobster?’
She shrugs. ‘I still feel guilty. And…’ She turns her wet, dull eyes to the gondolas peeking through the balustrade. ‘I really liked him, you know?’ A lone tear trickles down her cheek. ‘I’m always the bloody bridesmaid. Never the bride.’ She wipes the tear away with the back of her index finger.
I reach out to stroke her shoulder. ‘For what it’s worth, I think Hank Junior genuinely likes you. He seemed angry about your no-show but then really concerned when I told him you’d fainted and that’s why you didn’t turn up.’
‘Did he?’ she says, a shade brighter. ‘Such a shame.’
I smile sympathetically at her. ‘Shame he’s a hitman?’
‘Shame he didn’t give me his number. Can you remember which direction he went in?’
What? How desperate is this woman?
Liberty huffs out a small laugh. ‘Fuck’s sake, Connie. Your face! As if! My standards are low but not that low.’
Cherry takes that moment to zing back to life. ‘Jackpot! Put everything on red. Or black.’
We heave her back to standing and head off in search of this uber-powerful coffee. ‘Let’s all get some,’ says Big Sue. ‘It’ll turbocharge our tactical briefing.’
* * *
Twenty minutes later, we are staring bug-eyed at one another. With pupils the size of manhole covers, we attempt to put a plan together. My heart is pumping like a jackhammer at twice its normal speed.
