Pain of Death Read Free Page B

this.
    He pulls open a drawer and suggests to Josie that she makes a start on the bedroom.
    ‘These things are precious to us. This is our life,’ says Sean.
    Staffe picks up a flyer for a show last October at the Boss Clef. ‘Lori was her stage name?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    He does know her.
    On the flyer is written, LORI DOS PASSOS. Below the photograph of Kerry, pouting, DOES BURLESQUE. And, for sure, Kerry’s performances were risqué. Staffe had seen for himself, in that drunken hinterland of the final break-up from Sylvie.
    Josie calls down from the bedroom and he goes up, telling Sean to sit down and keep his hands off everything.
    Standing in front of a whole wall of opened wardrobes, Josie says, ‘This lot doesn’t come cheap. Christ. Why do they live in a place like this?’
    ‘Because they spend all their cash on Kerry’s career?’ says Staffe, running his hand along the rails of sequined, brilliantly coloured silk and satin dresses, skirts and blouses. Above, hats and scarves. Below, neat pile after neat pile of corsets and knickers, bras and belts.
    ‘And it might have been about to pay off,’ says Josie. ‘That burlesque is all the rage, you know. Look at this. It was in her bedside drawer.’
    Staffe takes the letter, an acknowledgement of receipt of contract from Rendezvous Enterprises. Phillip Ramone runs the two most successful clubs in Soho, and has seemingly offered Kerry a residency at Rendezvous. Fifteen hundred quid a week.
    ‘What a shame,’ says Josie. ‘Just as she was about to break through.’
    ‘Into motherhood again,’ says Staffe, storming back towards the lounge. He takes a deep breath before going in, walks slowly towards where Sean sits. He wants to lift him up by the throat and launch him into the wall, see what the weasel would say under real duress. But he forces himself to concoct another way.
    ‘Were you going to look after the baby, Sean?’
    ‘How d’you mean?’
    ‘Different, when the biological father’s intent on giving it a home. And things picking up, too – with Kerry’s career. This one was yours, wasn’t it?’ Staffe sits alongside Sean, puts his big hand on Sean’s small, bony knee. ‘You’d make a good dad, Sean. That’s my guess. And all the support you’ve given Kerry over the years. She was growing away from you, wasn’t she?’ He looks around the room. ‘Getting too big for all this.’
    ‘I don’t know what she’s done with the baby. Honest, I don’t.’
    ‘There is no baby, is there, Sean? Kerry had her career to think about.’
    ‘I helped her every inch. Not that I got anything out of it. But she’s worth it. She’s special.’
    ‘I know. I’ve seen her.’ Staffe takes the Boss Clef flyer from his pocket. ‘I was there, that night. Some show. You wouldn’t have guessed she had your child inside her.’
    ‘Shut up.’
    ‘And I wouldn’t have guessed she’d have beaten up her husband – so bad he had to call the police.’
    ‘I asked for it.’
    ‘What exactly did you ask for, Sean? You said you didn’t get anything out of her. Why should you?’
    ‘I curated her. I found her and developed her. I saw what nobody else did – before it was even there.’
    ‘You curated her?’
    ‘It’s what I do. I just wanted her to love me. That’s all.’
    ‘They say you should never marry too good.’
    ‘That’s shit. You’ve got no choice who you love.’
    ‘But Kerry did.’
    ‘She loves me, all right. In ways you’ll never understand. We’ll always be together. She knows that.’
    ‘I’ll understand, Sean. Don’t worry about that.’
    Josie comes in, swinging a clutch of clear plastic bags. ‘Driving licence, passport, bank details. She hadn’t planned to be away for long. Not exactly doing a runner, was she?’
    ‘You could have told us that, couldn’t you, Sean? But you decided to withhold on us.’ Staffe stands up, looks down at Sean Degg and holds out his hand. Josie unclips the cuffs.
    ‘I never