Grace woke up on the Sunday, her arms wrapped around Sandy. Her friend had taken a number of hours to get to sleep, and had fidgeted and cried throughout the night.
Sandy opened her eyes the moment Grace stirred and shook herself awake.
“You OK?” Grace asked and Sandy nodded.
“It was Neville,” she said without waiting for a response. “I know it was. It was a warning for me to keep my mouth shut.”
Grace thought back to the balding man. He seemed to be a business man, albeit in an illegal underworld rather than a traditional industry, rather than a gangster, but Sandy worked with him at the casino and knew him better.
“Are you sure?” Grace asked tentatively and Sandy nodded.
“Yeah. I know. The guy smelt of grease and the casino is above a garage.”
Grace took a deep breath and squeezed her hand that was over Sandy's pendulous bosom. “Well if you are sure, let's go and see the police.”
Sandy scoffed. “No. They weren't interested. And Neville is well connected with the police. I reckon half of them get bungs from him.”
Grace kissed the back of Sandy's neck. “Well what are we going to do? Run off somewhere and set up that business?”
Sandy stared at the skirting-board and shrugged. “I don't know yet. But I am not going to let him win. If he thinks he can intimidate me then he won't. I will be his casino tonight.”
“Sandy!” Grace barked horrified. “That is a bad idea.”
“No, it is fine. There is another thing. I know the code to the safe. He doesn't know it, but I do.”
Grace sighed and closed her eyes. “Please Sandy. Please tell me you are not going to do something silly.”
Sandy wriggled out of Grace's grip and sat up in bed. “I am not going to do anything silly. I just don't want to let him win.”
Grace swivelled in the bed and sat up alongside her, leaning against the fabric padded headboard. There was a knock at the door and Sandy instinctively called for the person to enter.
Terry arrived with two cups of tea and averted his eyes when he saw the topless teenagers in bed together.
“How do you say, cheers?” Sandy asked and Grace smiled.
“Yeah, cheers,” Grace answered and took her cup of steaming tea.
“Sorry, girls. I expected you to be decent,” Terry told her as Sandy took her drink and smiled. “There is some eggs, sausages and bacon in the fridge. I was going to cook a full English. Is that OK?”
Sandy smiled and turned her head to look at Grace. “Where did you find him?”
“I didn't,” Grace replied quickly. “He found me.”
“So is that a yes?” Terry asked and Grace nodded.
“Just check the sausages are OK. We got them last week.”
Terry nodded and as he left, Grace called him back. “You have to wear the apron though.”
Terry looked down, he was wearing shorts and T-Shirts and shrugged. “I'll be fine,” he muttered and Sandy smiled.
“I think she means, she wants you to wear it,” Sandy replied and Terry gave a wry smile and left the room.
“Shall we get dressed?” Grace asked and Sandy nodded.
“Yeah,” she muttered and, for the first time since Grace had known her, got up and put clothes on for breakfast. Grace was used to seeing Sandy naked, or with just a dressing gown or pyjamas on when in the flat that it seemed strange to see her with trousers and a T-shirt on, at least in their own property.
Grace giggled when she saw Terry. He had worn the full length apron, a mixture of yellow, beige and brown flowers, and was up and against the oven frying the sausages and bacon.
“I found some mushrooms, as well.”
Grace smiled and gave him a brief kiss. “It's fine. Do you mind if you go home tomorrow,” Grace asked and Terry frowned slightly.
“Will you be OK, on your own?”
Grace bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. I think so. I do need to walk her home from the casino tonight, she insists on going.”
Terry sighed and raised his eyebrows. “You are joking, aren't you?”
Grace pushed her lips together and looked up at him, shaking her head slowly. “No. She is insistent. She won't let him win.”
“Well in that case. I will walk her home. I am not having you out at that time of night. There is a rapist about.”
Grace rolled her eyes but Terry looked determined and turned back to his sizzling breakfast. “Can you butter the toast?”
Grace nodded and took the grilled bread from the tall man and spread a small layer of butter over the warm toast and then cut it, as Terry was frying off the last couple of eggs.
“It looks as good as mine,” Grace teased and Sandy nodded, cutting open her egg and dipping her toast into the yellow liquid oozing over her plate.
There was an uneasy tension in the kitchen as they ate their meal. Terry tried to start a conversation but Grace and Sandy were not talkative and at the end of the meal, Terry took the plates to wash up.
“Two ice creams please,” Grace said and passed a couple of coins to the vendor. She scooped some of the ice cream into two cornets, thanked Grace for her custom, and Grace walked over to where Sandy was sat, looking out over the Serpentine.
Sandy had said very little all day, and Grace was getting worried. She was continually lost in her thoughts, and was telling her friend very little about what she was thinking. Grace tried not to nag or needle her, but when she did speak she was clearly concerned and worried.
Terry had prepared dinner when they arrived home and ate the beef stew in almost silence.
At Grace's insistence, Sandy let Terry walk her the fifteen minute walk to the garage, above which the casino sat on. Terry was a little nervous, he knew that Sandy was not talkative, but he held out his hand and she held it as they walked the short distance.
“I'll see you here at what time?” Terry asked and Sandy looked up at him.
“You don't have to,” she muttered but Terry stared at her waiting for an answer. “One in the morning, maybe a bit later.”
“I'll see you later then.”
Sandy's face flickered into a smile. “Thanks.”
“It's cold out here,” Sandy moaned as she came down the stairs at quarter-past, holding her handbag and smiled at Terry. Terry took off his thick coat and wrapped it over the girl.
“You don't need to,” she said but Terry responded with a dismissive “it's fine,” and did up the jacket.
They turned around the corner and Sandy held Terry's hand instinctively. “Tell me, what are your plans for Gracie?” Terry stammered and Sandy looked up at him in the darkness. “You are not leading her on, are you?”
Terry shook his head. “No. No. I think she is wonderful.”
Sandy thought for a moment. “Yes, she is. But you will look after her, won't you?”
“Yeah. As much as she'd let me. She was talking about taking off earlier with you and said you might want to go back to Denmark.”
Sandy snorted. “No. We are definitely not going to Denmark. She likes you, she told me. But she is scared of letting go, she is very afraid all the time with everything we do. You need to make her jump. She never takes risks.”
“Make her jump?” Terry asked, a little confused and Sandy nodded.
“Yes, she has parachute and won't jump from plane. You need to make her.”
Terry grinned and squeezed Sandy's hand. “I'll try. But I have to go back to work for a couple of days. But I'll be back on Wednesday.”
“You drive tonight?”
“Yeah. There'll be nothing on the roads, it'll take me no time to get back,” Terry guessed but wasn't completely confident in his assurance. He would probably arrive home around sunrise.
Terry had managed to negotiate a couple of days off work mid-week and was sat in Grace's lounge idly playing with her tits. It was Sandy's twentieth birthday the day after but she was not celebrating it, the rape at knife point and beating she took still scaring her.
Grace had repeatedly suggested that they leave London and go elsewhere but Sandy had become insular and was not conversing fully. She wanted to be left alone and it scared Grace; she had never seen Sandy like that.
Since Grace had known Sandy she had been very strong, and stood up to everyone and everything that had been thrown at her. She had coped with so many horrors in her life, but this was almost one step too far, and this terrified Grace. They needed a change of scenery.
Terry had testified to the fact that there was a thriving sex scene in Manchester and Birmingham and she left the suggestion in the air but Sandy was not able to make a decision and Grace made sure that she ate three meals a day and did not over-consume on alcohol.
The Wednesday they were alone in the lounge when Sandy walked in. “What you doing tonight?” Sandy asked clinically and Terry shrugged, a little surprised. Sandy had barely spoken to him since he had arrived earlier in the day and didn't immediately appreciate why she was doing so now.
“Dunno. Might stay here, keep you company.”
“There is some good music on in the pub down the road. That Irish band we saw a couple of weeks ago,” Sandy told them and they nodded.
“Yeah OK. If you want to see them.”
Sandy shook her head. “No. I need to sort some stuff out.” Grace looked at her and she shrugged her shoulders. “Police paperwork. I've been putting it off, I just need it done.”
“I'll help. I don't want to…” Grace started and was unsure how to finish it. She didn't want to tell Sandy she didn't want to leave her alone, or alone at night as that sounded weird. Certainly she had cancelled some of her shifts so she could spent more time in the flat with her, although Sandy had surprisingly refused to cancel her shifts at the casino, especially as she was convinced her rape was now connected with the illicit gambling. She said she wouldn't let him win, but Grace could earn enough money to keep them solvent for weeks if they needed to.
“I'll go tomorrow. We can celebrate my birthday. Promise,” Sandy said. “And we can talk about our new business venture.” Grace and Terry looked at each other, but with Sandy's insistence they left the flat ten minutes later.
Grace whispered in Terry's ear. If he could be quiet later, he could fuck her ass. She just didn't want Sandy to hear.
Grace laughed as she unlocked the door to their small flat. Terry had his arms around her shoulders and was telling her about the problems a certain builder had caused. He was certainly knowledgeable about business and would provide guidance to Sandy and herself when they did set up on their own. She called out to Sandy when she came in but there was no answer; she's obviously gone to bed early.
Terry walked through to the kitchen and filled the small brown kettle. “You having one?”
“Please,” Grace replied and put her small handbag on the table and turned around to go into the bathroom. The cheap lager had made its way down to her bladder and she needed to release.
“You have milk, right?” Terry called and Grace replied that she did. He picked up the milk from the fridge.
Grace let out a piercing scream that chilled Terry to his bones; he dropped the milk onto the floor and ran into the bathroom, skidding abruptly. He immediately turned Grace to bury her face in his chest when he saw the sight that had caused her to yell.
Spinning from the ceiling joist was a naked and ashen-faced Sandy, suspended by a rope on her neck. “Call the police,” was all he could say and he pushed Grace out of the room. It wouldn't do any good, it was suicide, the chair kicked away from underneath her, but they had to do it.
He blinked and put his hand to his mouth. “You stupid girl,” he muttered and wiped a tear from his eyes. He had liked Sandy, she had been good to him and he knew how much Sandy meant to Grace. He had no idea that the rape had affected her so badly but there was no other reason why she would want to take her own life. Surely?
There was an envelope on the sink and he picked it up before respectfully closing the door.