She smiled. “Let’s just say I’m good at saving up.”
Jazmine laughed sarcastically. It was apparent that she’d heard better lies than that. She suddenly turned her attention instinctively toward the door; Denise followed her gaze.
Jazmine looked worried when she saw the first girl who walked in through the café door. Squinting eyes, jaw muscles working away under her soft skin, and a definite frown. Like a hunted animal standing on its hind legs, she scanned the movements outside the door, and when the next girls came in she leaned in toward the other two.
“Do you remember the punk who was provoking us at the benefits office the first time we met?”
They nodded.
“The girls there are called Erika, Sugar, and Fanny, and when they’re here, it’s only a matter of time before Birna arrives. Just wait and see.”
“Shouldn’t we just go somewhere else?” Michelle asked nervously.
Denise shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t give a damn about that black-clad nothing. She didn’t scare her.
“They’ve got a gang: the Black Ladies,” continued Jazmine. “They’re known in the area, and not for anything good.”
“I wonder why,” said Denise as she inspected their totally hideous clothes and makeup. Black, yes, but not ladies.
They were far from being the only people in the café who only moments later noted Birna’s arrival and the demonstrative way in which she slouched at the table with the rest of the gang. One of the women who was breastfeeding slowly put her breast back in her blouse and stood up, nodding to her friend. They put a couple of notes on the table, packed their belongings, and left without saying a word, avoiding any eye contact with the women in black, who were fidgeting in their seats, staring down everyone around them.
When their leader spotted Jazmine, she stood up from the table, staring directly at their group, making it clear that this area was out of bounds so long as she was there.
Denise took a quick drink from her cup before standing up just as demonstratively, despite Jazmine pulling on her sleeve. Standing in her high heels, she was taller than Birna, but this just made Birna clench her fists even harder.
“We’re leaving,” whispered Jazmine, getting up slowly. “They’ll kill us if we stay. Come on.”
Perhaps the gang misread Jazmine’s reaction, because all at once the members of the Black Ladies stood up.
An unease spread in the area behind the bar, Denise observed. The two female bartenders stepped backward toward the stockroom while the male waiter turned his back on the guests and put his cell phone to his ear.
“Come on, Denise.” Jazmine took her by the arm, but Denise shook herself loose. Did they think they could order her about? That just because she was beautiful and feminine she was weak?
“They’ve been inside for grievous bodily harm, Denise. Fanny, the one with the crew cut, has stabbed people,” whispered Jazmine.
Denise smiled. Hadn’t her granddad taught her what to do with enemies? If anyone here expected her to scamper away, they didn’t know Denise or her background.
“One of them lives just three streets from me, so they know where to find me,” Jazmine whispered again. “So let’s get out of here.”
Denise turned to Michelle, but she didn’t look scared like Jazmine, just determined.
Birna stood in the middle of the floor glaring, but this had no effect on Denise. Perhaps it should have when Birna pulled out a bundle of keys from her pocket and, one by one, stuck the keys between her fingers, making a menacing knuckle-duster.
Denise smiled wryly, stepped out of her high heels, picked them up, and pointed the stilettos directly at her opponent.
“Birna, remember our agreement!” shouted the man behind the bar, pointing his cell phone at her threateningly.
Birna reluctantly turned to face him, hesitated for a moment at the sight of the phone, and put the keys back in her pocket without batting an eye.
“You’ve got two minutes, and then they’ll be here,” warned the waiter.
The other members of the gang stared in anticipation at their leader, but Birna didn’t react. She simply turned to Denise with an ice-cold stare.
“Put your stilts back on, dolly bird,” she said in her heavy Icelandic accent. “We’ll be waiting for you, don’t you worry. Then I’ll shove those shoes so far down your throat that you won’t know what hit you. And as for you, you Neanderthal.” She turned to face Jazmine. “I know where you live, all right?”
“Get out of here, Birna. They’re on their way,” the waiter insisted.
She stared at him, giving him a thumbs-up. Then she waved her hand at her clique of girls, and they all left without closing the door behind them.
Before Denise had managed to put her shoes back on, there was a deep humming sound from out on the street, and the waiter walked over toward the café entrance.
Three large motorbikes with pumped-up riders wearing leather vests and armbands spoke with the man from the café. Then they waved to each other before the motorcycles disappeared into the distance.
The waiter looked at Denise as he walked past her. His expression was respectful but not exactly friendly, and when a couple of the regular café patrons began clapping, he sent them a look that made them stop.
Denise was satisfied with herself for having taken the lead, but when she saw Jazmine’s face, she realized that a power struggle between them might just become a reality.
“Yeah, sorry, Jazmine,” she said appeasingly. “I couldn’t help myself. Do you think it will be a problem for you?”
Jazmine scowled. Of course it was a problem. She took a deep breath, smiling faintly at Denise. The apology was apparently accepted.
“Shall we pay and get out of here?” said Denise, taking out her purse as Jazmine rested her hand on hers.
“Are we agreed that we’re friends?” she asked.
In the background, Michelle nodded enthusiastically in consent.
“Yes, of course,” answered Denise.
“So we’re a team in everything, right? Decisions, actions, and what we want to do.”
“Fine by me, yeah.”
“All three of us have secrets, but it doesn’t need to be like that forever. Are we also agreed on that?”
Denise hesitated. “Okay,” she answered finally. Michelle’s consent was more unreserved, but what the hell sort of secrets could she possibly have?
“Then I want to reveal one of my secrets. And I’m paying, okay?” She waited until they had both nodded in agreement before continuing. “I’m flat broke,” she said with a laugh. “But it doesn’t normally stop me.”
She nodded in the direction of the corner. “See the one with the work pants? He’s staring at us and has been ever since we arrived.”
“I noticed,” said Michelle. “Why does he think we’re interested in him and his dirty pants? And why didn’t he stand up for us when we were being threatened by that bimbo?”