The Black Widow by Linda Calvey

Author:Linda Calvey [Calvey, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: True Crime, Memoir
ISBN: 9781912624591
Publisher: Mirror Books
Published: 2019-07-10T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Confession

1980-81

“Mickey’s death was your fault.” Ron slurred as he spoke, holding onto my wrist too tightly.

I tried to shrug him off, but his grip tightened.

We were back at Harpley Square in my bedroom after a night out drinking and meeting more of Ron’s criminal acquaintances. His cold blue eyes were hazy from the whiskeys he’d been downing all evening, but he knew what he was saying, of that I was sure.

“How d’you work that out, Ron?” I replied, making sure to keep the tone of my voice even. I didn’t want a blazing row, as it was late on a Saturday night and we’d been out pubbing and clubbing until the early hours. It wasn’t like Ron to get drunk – he normally liked to keep control of himself – so this was a rare exception.

I couldn’t begin to guess why he was in such a foul mood, as he kept all of his shady dealings from me. He wasn’t like my Mickey, confiding in me, asking my opinion, respecting my take on a robbery plan. Ron was different. He kept me separate from the other parts of his life. But tonight there was something odd about the way he was behaving. My only thought was that something in his line of work had either backfired or gone horribly wrong, and that usually meant people being killed or arrested, though I’d never really know. But I knew enough about Ron now, more than a year into our relationship, to know that riling him up would only lead to misery for me, either verbally or physically. And I knew that when Ron shut that front door behind him, he stopped being the cool-headed man-about-town, and became a bully who I had to tiptoe round, making the meals he told me to cook, wearing what he told me to wear, and going to bed when he wanted. He saw me as one of his possessions, something to show off to his pals and to decorate with gems and furs. To him, I wasn’t a woman with a mind of her own.

“You killed him, and d’ya want to know how ya did it, Linda?” He almost sneered those words. His breath stank of booze, though I did my best not to show my disgust as I put a smile on my face and gave him a small nod, trying not to react, trying not to light that tinderbox inside him, which one spark of anger could ignite.

“You tell me, Ron, I’m listenin’,” I replied. I marvelled at how serene I sounded, as if this was a perfectly ordinary conversation between a couple. I was exhausted and wanted to sleep. My head was starting to pound, but I knew if I got this wrong then I’d get more than a bruised wrist.

“Because when I saw ya, standing at your door in your make-up with a silk dressing gown on, I fell in love with you and I had to ’ave ya.”

There was silence for a second.

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