Midnight on Lime Street Read Free

place proves you do, Eve. I can have the farm raided quicker than you can say knife, so don’t threaten me, you fat bitch.’ She was
surprising herself, because no one ever stood up to Eve. It was almost funny, since all three chins had fallen like collapsed layers in a badly baked sponge cake. ‘And shut your gob,
there’s a Kirkby bus coming,’ was her final suggestion.
    Eve faltered. She wasn’t a falterer, and she was beginning to realize that Babs had grabbed the upper hand. But yes, there was an answer. ‘So you want Belle, Cynthia, Angela, Mo and
Judy in jail, do you? And young Sally, too? What about poor old Kate? Because she’d go down with the rest of the crew.’
    Babs shrugged.
    ‘Are you evil enough to send the old woman you scarred to jail?’
    ‘Don’t forget yourself, Eve; you’re the queen of the rats, so you can help them all to jump ship, eh? Read my lips. I’ll lay five hundred quid that I can keep him alive
till Christmas.’
    Eve blinked stupidly. ‘Look, you’ll be minted when he goes, girl. A grand’s going to look like small change. He owns property as well as half of Mad Murdoch. That’s the
horse.’
    ‘Is it mad?’
    ‘He was. Wouldn’t let any bugger near him, wouldn’t take a blanket, let alone a saddle, kicked everyone and upset all the other animals. Gordy Hourigan has him just about
halfway tamed. He’s famous in racing circles is Gordy Hourigan.’ She stared hard at Babs. She was a short girl with an hourglass figure and a pretty face, a face that was currently
concealed behind half a pot of cold cream. ‘All right, then. Kate can hold the money.’
    ‘Pull out and I’ll shop you,’ Babs advised. ‘And I’ll give the girls enough warning so they can scarper before the cops arrive. Oh, and you can drive me to
Southport a few times while I get used to all this. If I can’t stand him and his messing about, I’ll walk out and all bets will be off. OK?’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘And I can come back here?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Will you train Sally for all the daddy-men?’
    Eve nodded.
    ‘Does she know?’
    ‘Not yet.’
    ‘So the poor little cow will get this pink room? Well, good luck to her, because she’s going to need it. I’d best get this muck off me face before I turn into an oil
leak.’ Babs swivelled and faced the mirror once more.
    Carrying the strong suspicion that she had just been dismissed, Eve crept out of the room. She’d never liked short women; what they lacked in height they made up for in the cheek
department, stretching their personalities as a form of compensation. Good things came in small packages? Yes, and so did poison. Barbara Schofield was possibly dangerous . . . yet she was lovable.
‘The daughter I never had,’ Eve mouthed.
    Downstairs in the office, she phoned Donald Crawford yet again. ‘She’ll do it. She wants the five hundred and a quarter share in Mad Murdoch.’
    ‘Bloody hell, Eve. She doesn’t care about me, does she?’ he asked in a tone that managed to convey both grief and resignation. ‘I’d give her the world, but
she’d never love me, and why should she? Have you told her she can have other men as long as I can watch?’
    Eve took a deep breath. ‘No, I haven’t. She may look young in her outfits except for her bust, but she’s an adult, Don. I’ll bring her to you, only you’re the one
who has to persuade her to stay. Any negotiating is down to you and her.’ She ended the call, stood up and walked to the window. While Don Crawford presented as a harmless old man, there was
something in him, an element that rang alarm bells in Eve’s experienced mind. She decided it was dementia, which rendered unpredictable all who suffered from it. Anyway, Babs was capable of
looking after herself, wasn’t she?
    She stared out onto the flat, green nothingness of the Mersey plain. Kate O’Gorman, cook and housekeeper at the farm, often commented about the boring dump, as she termed it.
‘It’s bloody