Dangerous Games

by Gillian Godden

  His wife wasn’t too pleased, but if it was only for a short while, she was prepared to put up with it. Besides, the extra cash would come in handy.

  However, after a few weeks of Antonias and his mum sleeping on the sofa, Ben and his wife were getting tired of hearing the constant excuses as to why Annette hadn’t found work, or somewhere for them to live. She was using the thousand pounds to pay their way, but it wouldn’t last much longer.

  Ben’s wife, Susan, insisted that Antonias went to school, which caused a problem for Annette. To please Susan, she had registered Antonias in the same school her own children had gone to at Antonias’s age, but she had changed his name. She had used her maiden name.

  She found some temporary factory work that paid cash in hand, no questions asked, but it was lower than the minimum wage. Ben couldn’t understand why she would do it. Why not just register at the appropriate offices, get some government benefits, and a roof over her head? It all seemed crazy to him, but she wouldn’t listen. She always promised to sort herself out, but never did.

  Ben loved his sister, but she had never been one to be trusted, and when it came to work, she was lazy, always expecting someone else to pay her way.

  Ben got in bed beside his wife one night and sighed. ‘I wish I knew what Annette was up to, Susan. There’s more to this than meets the eye, and I don’t want any trouble at my door.’

  ‘It’s Antonias I feel sorry for. He’s such a lovely, pretty boy, but he’s been brought back to England after losing his father, he has no place to call home, and his mother is irresponsible. She’s not fit to be a parent.’

  Susan kissed her husband goodnight, then turned over. She could see he was troubled and said no more, but Susan knew a lot more about it than Ben did.

  Miriam had written to them some months earlier, expressing her concern about Antonias’s well-being. Now, Susan could see for herself why. Annette had no life plan, she just hopped from one idea to the next, which was okay if you were single – but Annette had a child, and she dragged him around like a rag doll.

  Susan thought that Antonias might be better off with his Italian family and, apart from that, she remembered that Miriam had offered some kind of reward for any information about them both. She decided she would write to Miriam in the morning.

  ***

  A short while afterwards, Annette was surprised when some post came for her, and stunned when she saw the Italian postmark. She ripped open the envelope; there was a letter inside from Miriam, and she had also sent some money.

  In the letter, Miriam had written that there were no hard feelings. What was done was done. The money didn’t matter. What mattered was that Annette and Antonias should go home, so she could look after them. Alternatively, if Annette preferred to stay in England, she wanted them to at least stay in touch.

  Annette tore the letter up. She was angry she had been betrayed, her details handed over to Miriam, but she knew her brother wouldn’t have done that to her. It had to be Susan, and Annette wondered what she was getting out of it in return. She knew Miriam only wanted Antonias back; as far as she was concerned, Annette could go to hell. And, although he was becoming a millstone around her neck lately, Annette knew this was a trap and she wasn’t falling for it.

  Annette rounded on Susan when she showed up. ‘You evil cow,’ she said, ‘you’ve written to my mother-in-law! How could you? She’s a barmy old woman who has lost her son and now thinks she can take over mine!’ Without thinking, Annette walked towards Susan and slapped her face.

  Susan felt the stinging blow from Annette’s slap, and rubbed her face, shocked.

  Ben stood up. ‘Come on, girls,’ he said, ‘there’s no need for that. Nobody has written to anybody, Annette, what are you on about?’

  ‘You tell him, Sue! You have written to Miriam, haven’t you?’ Annette was shouting now.

  ‘Yes, I have,’ said Susan. ‘She wrote to me a long time ago, asking about you, and I dismissed it. We didn’t even know you were back in England, then, did we?’

  She looked at Ben and he shook his head.

  Susan turned back to her sister-in-law. ‘What have you been doing all this time, Annette? Where have you been?’ Her voice was rising steadily, then she shouted, ‘Whatever it was, it didn’t turn out too well, did it!’

  The room went silent.

  After a moment, Ben said, ‘Annette, what’s going on?’ He couldn’t understand why his wife had done this, or why Annette’s mother-in-law was treating Annette and Antonias as missing persons. He wanted to get to the bottom of it.

  ‘There’s nothing to tell, Ben. After Marias, I just had to get out of there. That’s all.’

  That was the best they were going to get. Annette tried her usual tears, but she knew this time she was on thin ice. It was time to move on.

  ‘Don’t go, Annette, not like this,’ said Ben. ‘Where are you going to go to, anyway?’

  Annette shook her head. ‘I have to, don’t you see? Even Susan thinks I’m a bad mother, and goodness knows what she’s told Miriam about me.’

  Ben made them all a cup of coffee to try and keep the mood calm. Antonias and his own two boys were playing outside. This was their chance to talk.

  ‘I’ve said nothing wrong about you, Annette,’ said Susan. ‘Well, nothing that she didn’t know already, anyway.’ Susan was still smarting from the slap Annette had given her.

  Ben was soft. He always tried to see the best in people, which was why Susan loved him, but there was no way she was going to let Annette stay, now.

  Maybe, if they told her to leave, she would use the huge amount of money Miriam had sent her to buy a ticket back to Italy. Susan had, herself, already received Miriam’s reward: one thousand pounds, as promised.

  ‘Ben, help me, we’re family. Miriam is trying to take Antonias from me, which is why I have been hiding away from her.’ To emphasise the point, Annette started to cry and fell into her brother’s arms.

  ‘It’s okay, Annette, love, we’ll sort it out. Me and Sue both know you’ve had a hard time, what with losing your husband and everything. Look, let me have a word with little Antonias’s granny, eh? Let her know you’re both okay and doing well.’ Ben’s calming cockney accent soothed her, until she realised what he was saying.

  Oh, no! He was going to contact Miriam, and she would tell him all about Carlos and the money. Ben would go mad at her if he knew she had stolen money, and had been prepared to sell Antonias.

  ‘No, Ben, please don’t. Let me talk to her, it’ll sound better coming from me. I owe her that, I just haven’t been myself lately. But I will speak to her, I promise.’

  Ben and Susan looked at each other and nodded; at last, they had got through to Annette. She would contact Miriam and either go back to Italy or stay here. It didn’t really matter either way, at least Miriam would know she was safe. She hadn’t known where Annette and Antonias had gone, and naturally she had been worried sick.

  They’d have been less happy had they known that after they went to bed that night, Annette packed a bag with essentials for her and Antonias.

  STREET LIFE

  Next day, Annette took Antonias to school, as usual, and then went to the factory. As she worked on a daily cash-in-hand basis, she got paid after her shift. That was good, because straight after work Annette was going to collect Antonias and find them somewhere else to stay. She couldn’t go back to her brother’s house. Not now.

  The streets of London were a miserable place, when you lived on them. You watched people all the time, shopping and laughing with their friends until it was time for them to go home, back to their safe, warm havens.

  Annette had struck lucky; someone she worked with knew of a flat to let that sounded just perfect. She contacted the landlord and arranged to go to see it, as soon as her shift finished.

  ‘Yours, if you want it, love,’ he’d said. ‘Come round tomorrow and we can sort out the paperwork and the money.’

  ‘When can I move in?’ she
asked.

  ‘If we get it all sorted tomorrow, you can be in by tomorrow night.’

  ***

  Because of going to view the flat, Annette was late picking Antonias up from his after-school club. The teacher glared at her, but said nothing. Annette didn’t care; she’d never have to see the woman again. Antonias couldn’t go back to that school. Ben and Susan would be able to find them, if he did.

  ‘Why aren’t we going home, mummy?’ Antonias said, when she headed into town with him.

  ‘We’re going to have an adventure,’ Annette said. ‘We’re going to camp out like boy scouts tonight, then, tomorrow, we’re going to go and live somewhere new, just us. How does that sound?’

  Antonias’s little face beamed with smiles. It sounded very exciting to him.

  Annette had to hang onto all her money to get them into the flat, tomorrow, and to buy the things they would need. There was nothing left to pay for a room for the night. They would have to spend the night on the streets. It’s just one night, she reasoned, just one night. We’ll be fine, and tomorrow, we’ll be snug in our own safe, warm haven.

  London’s ‘cardboard city’ was famous for all the homeless people that lived on the streets. Each and every one of them had their own doorway to sleep in. They put up cardboard boxes and used them as tents, that was where the name came from.

  Annette bought a couple of sleeping bags and some warm clothes, things that would be useful when they moved into the flat, too. Antonias was thrilled with the adventure; Annette had a way of making it sound exciting.

  ‘Here, Antonias, isn’t this fun?’ she said, as they sat eating a burger on a bench. She watched a group of women in short skirts hanging around on a street corner. Every so often a car would stop, there’d be some chat and then a woman got in and was driven away.

  There were random shouts and catcalls as drinkers and drunks went from pub to pub. Antonias shrank into Annette, both for warmth and reassurance. He was less sure about the big adventure, now.

  After that, it was time for them to get some sleep. It was dark by then, and Annette didn’t know what to expect. She put Antonias into his sleeping bag and tucked him into a doorway, then wriggled into her own. She intended to sit awake all night, watching him.

  The first light of dawn woke Annette up, and she realised she must have dozed off. Antonias! She turned, in panic, to find he was still asleep. She reached for her bag, to get a cigarette, and found it had gone.

  All the money she had in the world was in her bag, and while she was asleep, it had been stolen.

  Seeing someone huddled in the next doorway along, Annette shouted, ‘Have you stolen my bag, you thief? I’m going to call the police!’ She was angry and waving her finger at the young man, who was still half asleep.

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ he shouted back, ‘but it happens. You should have hid it more carefully. People on the streets usually put money in their shoes, then you can feel if someone is trying to take them off and rob you.’

  The young man seemed to accept it as part of everyday life. He saw Antonias waking up. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘get him a drink.’ He threw some coins at Annette.

  He could see she was upset and angry, but what had she expected? You were not only exposed to the elements, the people were as desperate as each other. There were no morals with street life, you got by whatever way you could, to survive and feed yourself for another day. He turned over and went back to sleep.

  Annette went into a nearby shop and bought a drink and a chocolate bar for Antonias. That was it; that was all her money gone. There would be no flat, no safe, warm haven for them. She returned to the doorway and snuggled in with her little boy.

  ***

  The next night found them back in the same doorway.

  ‘Mummy, it’s raining on my bed,’ said Antonias. He was cold, he was hungry and all the drunks and the people fighting at night frightened him.

  Annette raised her head from the sleeping bag; it wasn’t raining, or at least, she couldn’t feel it.

  Then she saw what was happening. She was right, it wasn’t rain, it was a gang of drunks urinating on their sleeping bags. They were laughing and joking, while relieving themselves.

  Annette heard a couple of women shouting, ‘Oy, you bastards, leave them alone and piss somewhere else!’

  She looked up and saw them, in their short skirts and high heels, chasing off the drunken louts and shouting at them. It was obvious they were the prostitutes she had seen the previous night, gathering at their street corner waiting for trade.

  Cars drove by, bartered with the prostitute of their choice, then drove away with them. A short while later, they were driven back to the corner and dropped back to their group of friends, before the punters drove off. That was life on the streets: survival.

  ‘Are you okay, love? How is he doing?’ The woman stood there in a low top, short black skirt and high heels. A cigarette dangled from her mouth.

  ‘Thanks.’ Annette smiled. ‘He’ll be okay.’ She proffered her hand. ‘I’m Annette,’ she said, ‘and this is Antonias.’

  The woman leaned forward and shook her hand. ‘Tilly, that’s what they call me. You need to go to the public toilets over there and clean up. Everyone uses it, it’s open all night.’ She turned to Antonias and ruffled his hair. ‘Hi, handsome,’ she said, and she smiled.

  They were the first kind words he had heard all day. They had been moved on and spat at, and then they had shooed the rats away, to see what food they could find in the bins. This wasn’t camping, this was hell!

  Tilly took her cigarette out of her mouth and handed it to Annette. She looked at the young woman, who was obviously naive and new to the streets. Something had happened, especially as she had a small child with her, but Tilly had seen it all before. Some people felt safer on the harsh cold streets of London than they did at some abusive home.

  Nobody asked questions on the streets, no one used their full names, it was a golden rule. They all had hard luck stories, some better and some worse than others, but it was better not to ask.

  ‘The Salvation Army set up mobile caravans over there.’ Tilly pointed around the street corner. ‘Anyone can have a tea or a coffee, and they come all the time. Then there’s the soup kitchen, you can always get a hot meal when you need one.’ The woman felt she had given Annette enough information to get her started.

  Annette stood up, and pushed her blonde hair away from her face. ‘Thank you, Tilly, I appreciate that,’ she said.

  ***

  That was three years ago, now. In the meantime, Annette had adapted to life on the streets and knew all the tricks needed to survive, including joining Tilly on the street corner and leaving Antonias asleep, in his sleeping bag.

  Antonias was nine, now, and he ran around the streets, using them as his playground. He would often stand around with the junkies and alcoholics, who would light a bonfire in an old oil drum to keep warm.

  He had become a clever and cunning thief, good at stealing from the local shops. When he was caught, he would talk in Italian, as though he didn’t understand.

  Annette used their Italian language as a code. She knew nobody understood them, and so when she needed him to look after her money or keep a look out while she was with a customer, she would use the Italian code.

  There were other kids who lived on the streets, so Antonias was not alone. They had run away from broken homes, and thought this life was better.

  Antonias was now known as Antony, although some even called him the ‘Artful Dodger’. He knew if shopkeepers caught him, he was too young to prosecute. They just slapped him around the head and threw him out.

  The police were always hanging around, asking questions. Antonias kept out of their way as much as possible and Annette gave them sob stories about being evicted, or fleeing from an abusive husband. She was only known to the police as Annette; no last name, no one asked or cared. The homeless were an embarrassment to the capital of England.

  A
ntonias was running wild, he had his own friends and his own life. One of the alcoholics had been a schoolteacher and had taught him to read – it passed the time.

  A couple of the prostitutes Annette knew had been thrown out of their lodgings by their pimps, because they weren’t earning enough – they were getting old. They had found an old derelict house and squatted in it. They invited Annette and Antonias to join them.

  They moved some planks of wood from the back door and went in. it was dark, because the windows were boarded up. The musty smell, from the peeling wallpaper and the damp, hit you first. The house hadn’t been lived in for years, but it had a roof. It was heaven.

  The rats and the cockroaches didn’t bother anyone, they were used to them, and they all pooled their money and bought a paraffin heater. This was home, now.

  There were times when Annette longed for the boredom of life at the vineyard, but that all seemed like a million years ago.

  To drown out the past, and get through the nights of man after man using her for a few pounds, she had turned to alcohol and then to drugs. She knew the local dealers, who would hang around with them and provide them with the ‘goods’ in exchange for sex or money.

  Antonias was always left on his own for a few days at a time when Annette and the other prostitutes moved their ‘pitch’ elsewhere, then got so high on drugs that they just passed out somewhere.

  Annette would leave Antonias some money, tell him she was just popping out for ‘mummy’s medicine’, and disappear into the night.

  THE LONG, STRAIGHT ROAD

  A police officer on his way home after a long night shift noticed a young blonde boy removing a plank of wood from one of the derelict houses, on a local estate. He stood and watched the boy, who was smoking a cigarette and holding a bottle of wine, climb in and replace the plank of wood.

  He decided to investigate, not knowing what to expect, apart from some young scallywag breaking in and using it as a place to drink and smoke, while being absent from school. He radioed it into the police station anyway, for his own safety.