The Lies and Crimes of Sweet Caroline Read online

  “Famous? Who?”

  “Exactly. That’s just it. I’d never heard of them. Z-list celebrities probably. Sports people, some of them. Dead obscure. Like I was remotely interested.”

  “An arsehole.”

  “Yep. So now he pays. Another high and mighty knobhead who needs a lesson. And now he learns.”

  “Well, we’re teaching. That’s for sure.”

  “Aren’t we? You and I should have been teachers.”

  “You didn’t like him then?” Leoni is smiling now, teasingly.

  Caroline looks at her friend in disbelief. “I hated him.”

  “What? Really hated him?” Leoni’s eyes and mouth widen at the same time.

  “That’s right. Really hated him.”

  “Violently hated him?”

  “Yep. How far are we going with this? I’ll tell you. This should satisfy your bloodthirsty soul. He annoyed me enough to put himself at serious risk. Just as well for him he was Mister Sleepy Head. Saved his life,” that did.

  Leoni laughs out loud. “Good old Temazepam. Where would we be without her?”

  “Yeah, she kicked in eventually. But I did have to do some waiting.”

  “What? Nothing straight away?”

  “No. A bit bad, that.”

  “Why the delay?”

  “No idea. Took a while. He must have been on some medication or something.”

  “Or it’s because he was a big bloke. And was he fucking big. I wouldn’t have wanted him on top of me.”

  “He was that.” She moves her body around in the seat as if to reassure herself. “I think I survived him.”

  “How did you see to him?”

  “On top. Quick finish. Then I waited for Tammy to put him away. Just wanted his bullshit to come to an end.”

  “How long did he stay awake?”

  “Too long. About half an hour. Droning on about some shit.”

  “Still, we’ve made some.”

  “Yes, we’ve not done too bad.” Caroline pauses, knowing that the words ‘too bad’ carry their own connotations. “We need a new plan now, though.” Caroline’s eyes are in sharp focus.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s all very well us hitting these towns, but all we’re doing is avoiding shit. I don’t want to just avoid shit. I’m not doing this stuff just to pay sodding bills. We have to do better than that. And there’s another thing. At some point our luck is going to run out doing these crap jobs and we’ll be rumbled. Do you fancy being up in court? I don’t.”

  “I’m not doing prison. You won’t see me again if I have to do time.”

  “Exactly. Making a couple of hundred quid and some booze isn’t enough for the risk we’re taking. We need to make some serious money so we don’t have to do as many of these jobs. The more jobs we do, the greater the risk.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that too. I have these big ideas then I just think, oh well, we’re doing OK.”

  “But doing OK’s not doing OK at all,” Caroline says. “Doing OK is just so much nothing. We need to be earning bigger amounts, life changing ones.”

  Leoni is struggling to concentrate on the driving. “So what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that we need a cash cow or two!”

  “Minted punters?”

  “Of course. A really big pay day or two.”

  Leoni smiles and Caroline’s expression creates symmetry in the front of the car. Two women on the same page on their way home after a profitable night.

  Caroline, her mind in overdrive, continues. “We need to gain access to blokes with serious money and take the lot, much more than we’ve ever taken. We need to spend some time with one or two loaded bastards and stir it up a bit. Make some real money.”

  Leoni looks across. “Sounds interesting. How?”

  Caroline smiles. “I’ve got some ideas.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “No, Caz. We’re going to be on the road for a while. Tell me now.”

  ‘We do it carefully and with purpose.”

  “Don’t be vague. What does that mean? We do everything now carefully and with purpose.”

  “Well, basically, loads of planning and preparation. We do things with even greater care, and bigger things.”

  “How are we going to manage that?

  “With the right amount of thinking about the details. It’s all about details. The who we do it to is just one of those key details. Once that’s sorted, we have to be in the right place at the right time, with the right attitude.”

  “What do you mean? You’re talking in riddles.”

  “We need to target big money. Businessmen. A factory owner, perhaps. A farmer with loads of land might be good. Seriously minted fuckers. This guy tonight was OK, and we need to hit knobheads like him, but a lot richer, and hit them a lot harder. It’s not just shag money. Much more than that.”

  “More? How?’

  “We use leverage.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “By using this, Lu.” Caroline points her finger at her temple and her eyes widen. “We’re going to be aspirational. Get ourselves in the nicest places. If I’m going to go to work with these twats, let it be in a posh hotel, not some budget shithole. That was one tacky hole.”

  “Five star next time, then?” Leoni grins.

  “Why not? And we sting for thousands, not hundreds.”

  “Sounds good.” She emphasises the second of the two words. Leoni’s smile is becoming broader by the minute.

  “Exactly. We have to do the research and head upmarket. From here on in, I’m only opening my legs for year-changing money, if not life-changing. Shagging for the supermarket shop is a joke, a sick joke. My sense of humour doesn’t stretch that far. Not anymore.”

  “Can we do that, though, what you’re suggesting?”

  “Course we can.” She moves her index finger in an arc in front of herself. “Why else did they give me this face and body?”

  “Shall we hit another cashpoint now, see if that fat fucker was good for it?”

  “Why not.”

  Opportunity Knocks

  “Are you sure this is the one?”

  Caroline is pressing the laptop keys almost rhythmically, as she navigates through a maze of questions, whilst simultaneously taking sips from a large glass of gin and tonic. She turns to Leoni. “I’ll tell you again, since you weren’t listening just now. This is the one.”

  This is the fifth dating site they have considered, and Leoni’s patience is not everlasting. “But it’s just like the others.”

  “Hardly. It’s made for us, this one.”

  Leoni has a look of comfortable bewilderment on her face. “They all look the same to me.”

  “One word makes the difference.”

  “What word?”

  “Elite. It’s got Elite in the title. You know what that means.”

  “Top people, I guess. But it’s bullshit. They call themselves that to make them seem superior in some way.”

  “Yeah, but the word attracts the people it describes. Snob value. I can see that already.” She makes a hand gesture in the direction of the screen.

  “So there are quality clientele using the site?”

  “Exactly. Men with money. So much money that I can even smell it online. Flash houses, big credit limits and fuck off cars.” She turns her head in an attempt at uncertainty that is clearly feigned. “Are we a woman seeing a man, Lu?”

  “Are you daft? Definitely.”

  Caroline’s attention returns to the laptop. “Too right. We need their stupidity.”

  “And we can rely on that. That brain inside their underwear thing’s the key to our everything.”

  She again gestures for Leon
i to look at the screen. “I’m basing us in Nottingham.”

  “Good idea. Everybody knows us in this shithole. Too risky.”

  “What are we looking for then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What kind of relationship?

  She looks across. “What are those options I can see?”

  “Long term, friendship, casual?”

  “Mmmm. Casual?”

  “Don’t know. None of them work for me.” Caroline looks to the ceiling for guidance.

  “Put friendship.”

  “Why friendship?”

  Leoni leans over to her friend. “It’ll make you seem hard to get. Unavailability’s key. Especially when they see how sweet-looking you are.”

  “Oh. You say the nicest things.” She reaches out to touch Leoni’s cheek.

  “Might be more attractive to the big fish if you put friendship. These arseholes don’t usually want a relationship, and neither do we.”

  Caroline shakes her head doubtfully. “Possibly, although any man we land won’t be somebody looking for friendship. Like I need a friend.”

  “I know. More than likely, he’ll just be another dirty bastard with money anyway.”

  “Think business, Lu. We’re gonna milk them big time.”

  “Well, we can try it whichever way you want. If it doesn’t work, we can always change it. What picture are you going to put up?”

  “Two. Two pictures. Maybe three if I can find a decent third one. Got to pull them in.”

  “Of course. Which ones?”

  Caroline has her photographs in front of her on the screen. “The full-length picture of me in Marbella, the bikini shot.”

  “Yeah. Use that one. Totally hot.”

  “I’m going to add that selfie from last week. My make-up was really good on that one.” Smiling broadly, Caroline presses more keys before turning the laptop in Leoni’s direction to reveal the two photos mentioned, now side by side in the allotted window.

  “They’ll work, babe. You look fab in both of them.”

  Caroline frowns. “You make it sounds like that’s a rare occurrence.”

  “No, of course not. You always look good, babe. But that selfie makes you look like butter wouldn’t melt. Pretty lethal combination if you ask me.”

  “Well, I always like the butter wouldn’t melt look. Always have.”

  “What about a classy one?”

  “Good idea, but we’ll need to add that later. We’re going out, remember. We’ll dress up and do a restaurant tonight and take a few shots there.” Caroline manages a half-smile.

  “Which restaurant?”

  “Dunno. Some place with a tablecloth and smart crockery. We’ll need that for a posh photo or two.”

  “Sounds good. Think I’ll go on that site now and see what quality punters there are.”

  A few minutes later and things have become more intense. They are both in the midst of a manhunt, each scrolling, reading and pausing, then scrolling reading and pausing some more. Every now and again one of them lands on an advertisement and laughs out loud.

  “What about this one? Company director.”

  “That sounds like decent status. What’s the company?”

  “Doesn’t say. Why would it? Likes riding and sport.”

  “Well, they’re pretty good hobbies, I reckon, especially if it’s show jumping and motorsport.”

  “I always did like Formula One. Don’t rich blokes like cricket and rugby? Avoid football, though. All the chavs like football.”

  Both young women are in pyjamas, holding mugs of hot chocolate in their hands as they do their serious planning. “Sounds promising. This one likes sport too, but looking at him, it’ll be football.”

  Caroline almost loses her grip on her mug as she makes a declaration and considers a possibility. “What if the sport is darts? I meet up with a fat sod with a massive beer belly and a sparse bank account. Wonder what this knobhead’s company is. No good if he’s going bankrupt. There’ll be some liars on here. I don’t think I’d be nice to a liar.”

  “Bound to be. Internet’s full of liars.” Leoni nods. “Arseholes just can’t stop lying. Never have and never will.”

  “Hey, this one here’s a consultant surgeon. That’s some job. I’d check out his specialism. Interesting. He’s looking for someone for some good times and nothing serious.”

  Leoni scowls. “Dirty bastard.” She points a finger at Caroline’s screen. “Let’s take him. He’ll be good for it.”

  “Maybe. Consultants are seriously minted. He’ll certainly have the kind of money we’re talking about.”

  “Are you going to make contact?”

  “Too right. Watch and learn, Lu. Getting my profile completed first. Want to make it irresistible.”

  “Then what?”

  “After that, I’m going to send him a message to die for.”

  “Bet he’s married.”

  “Hope so. Easier to make big money if he’s got a wife.” Caroline’s voice has lowered in pitch, and Leoni turns towards her.

  “You thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

  “Too right I am. Leverage. That old friend of the helpless.”

  Leoni looks puzzled. “When the fuck have we been helpless?”

  * * *

  Times are going to change. Times are going to be better. Times are going to bring life-enhancing rewards. They have to. As they walk from the car park of the Four Seasons Shopping Centre, heading into the complex, Caroline is reminded just how much she hates shopping malls. Wrong and demeaning on every level. She wants her time in this horrendous concrete box, with all those uninspiring, unsatisfying units, to be as brief as possible. She hopes the sacrifice she is making by coming here will be worth it.

  As she approaches the concrete, she is thinking about how they can do everything more satisfactorily and she is visualizing what things they need to acquire for it all to happen. They are moving up a league now. They are ascending into greater difficulty and risk, but she knows, like Leoni, walking beside her, that this is utterly right. It is necessary for their development, for their lives to be better. Scratching around for small change will get them as far as small change will get anyone, but no further.

  They pass several businesses that offer them nothing. They pass a card shop nonchalantly, since neither of them has sent a card in years. Caroline scoffs as they pass Gregg’s and Leoni grins, acknowledging how her partner feels about pastry and bread. They speed up slightly past a shop selling sportswear, with shorts, trainers and leotards dominating the window display, and pass with relief, since running up the stairs of their house is the nearest either comes to strenuous activity.

  First Stop is Precious. A silver-framed window displays femininity and class, pink and white being the main colour combination on show, with an elegant logo overhead that suggests something special and exclusive.

  Both women enter energetically. This is a moment. The duo have had so many over the past few years, but this marks a transition. They have talked about this experience several times over the past few days. Caroline has called it power-shopping. They separate enthusiastically to search for special things, and for a while neither pays any attention to the other while they seek out appropriate garments for the jobs in hand. Caroline has offered a suggestion as they part. She says, “Remember. To make a hundred thousand quid, we each need to look like a million.”

  “I thought you were going to have the luxury gear?”

  “I am. But not just me. We’re going to both have the right gear.”

  Leoni stops and steps back. “You should.”

  “No. Not just me. I want you to look the part too.”

  “Why? I’ll be in the background or in the car. I probably won’t even be seen.”

  Caroline looks at her. “Ma
ybe so. But if we’re both looking classy you can do much more than if you’re wearing shit clothes. Good gear for both of us means no limits.”

  “Do more? Aren’t I the back up? Haven’t we decided that you are going to be the hands-on part of this?”

  “I am, but you’re not going to be a silent partner, babe. I want you active in what we do.”

  “How?”

  Caroline reaches out and gently grips Leoni’s upper arm. “You can come up close if needed. An extra pair of eyes and ears. Could be helpful too if there’s some kind of tangle. That’s why.”

  “How do you mean? Isn’t that risky?”

  “I don’t think so. You within eyeshot helps in every way. At the very least, you can say what you see. Anyway…” She relaxes her hold on Leoni and breaks off. “Let’s just get on with the buying. Whatever we buy, the key words are elegant, classy and sexy.”

  Separately, they move amongst the racks and along the walls purposefully, scrutinizing, enjoying and reluctantly rejecting most, but for different reasons. Leoni picks up a black and white polka dot blouse, but Caroline shakes her head. She moves across to Leoni, takes the blouse from her and replaces it on the rack. “Remember. Don’t worry about the prices. This is investment.”

  Both women now move around the shop with serious expressions on their faces.

  Caroline sees something. It’s ideal. The killer garment for a killer lady, she thinks. A short black dress, an elaborately displayed creation, placed to be conspicuous, featuring striking seams and sophisticated stitching. This dress now has her total attention. Male or female, young or old would appreciate it like she does now. She holds it up for Leoni to see. Leoni nods, mouth open. As she approaches, an assistant is to the side of her attending to a display, so Caroline coughs to get her attention.

  “Hi, there. Can I help you?” The woman, in her forties, with a round pale face and black headband with scraped back hair to accompany her light application of mascara and a simple black dress, has the smile of corporate convenience on her face, the face of implied sincerity and the suggestion that this woman will go to great lengths to help the customer.

  Caroline points at the bewitching dress with its stitching she would kill for. “I like that dress, the one on the mannequin.” She points casually to the far wall. “Do you have it in a size ten?”