‘Just like old times,’ he drawled.
Kit’s breathing became more laboured as she recalled that same knife blade slashing through her skin to cause seven superficial wounds and the deep scar that ran the whole width of her body. Just before he’d stolen her money and dumped her in the gutter.
Concrete formed where her bones should have been and rendered her immobile.
A small cry came from her bedroom. Banda didn’t flinch.
‘Brought along a little insurance. Sweet little thing, you met her earlier and gave me the idea to bring her along. She’s so much like you were when I arranged your first punter. I wonder if she’s had that privilege yet.’ He laughed at the disgust she couldn’t hide. ‘She’ll fit in well in your old room, especially with you there to look after her.’
She breathed only with effort. She could remember her first punter and the fact that she’d been sold to him at cut price because she was inexperienced. Banda had arranged it, knowing that the punter he’d chosen enjoyed rough sex for the main course and a couple of punches for dessert. She recalled the fear, the fear that she would not live through the experience.
‘I’m not going back,’ she hissed.
He laughed out loud, in total control. ‘Oh yes you are, Kit! Did you really think I’d let my best earner get away that easily? First you’ll pay off what you owe me for your unauthorised leave and then we’ll go back to the way things were. What’s all this anyway? You have a shit flat, shit job. You’ve been gone months and this is the best you could do. Jack shit!’
He laughed out loud. ‘Fancy clothes for a whore but they don’t fool me.’ The knife cut easily into her satin shirt. ‘You’re nothing, Kit. You’ve always been nothing and you’ll always be nothing. But you’re my nothing. I own you. You’ve been gone this long because I allowed it. I could have fetched you back any time I wanted. I’ve let you go to your fucking AA meetings. I’ve allowed you to make a new little friend who lives in a nice part of town. I even let you fuck that wimp for free for a couple of weeks just so you’d have a taste of the life you’re going to miss, but when I saw you mixing with that prick from work I knew it was time to draw the line. Where’s your reputation, whore?’ he mocked, thoroughly enjoying himself.
She tried to swallow the surplus saliva that had gathered in her mouth. She knew that like a dog he could smell her fear and he thrived on it.
‘Hmm, turned into quite the little homebody, haven’t you, Kit? A little different to the slag that you were. I think you’ve developed feelings. Don’t worry, my love, I’ll soon cut that out of you,’ he laughed, slashing her shirt again. ‘And then I’ll go visit your friends. I’m sure they’d love to catch up with one of your oldest mates from down south.’
Kit clenched her fists in an effort to stay calm. If he was telling the truth then he hadn’t already been to see them. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he knew where they were. He’d found her easily enough and obviously spied on her for months.
‘The redheaded bitch looks like she could do with some loosening up.’
‘You leave her alone!’ she spat, struggling against his strength.
His laughter was harsh and cruel and instilled the fear of God into her breaking soul.
‘Hmm… loyalty to your friend. How sweet. She reminds me a little of Val. Do you remember your old friend, whore?’
Kit said nothing. She tried to still her breathing. The fear threatened to envelop her.
‘She remembered you, right up until the second she died. With every blow to her body I chanted your name. I made sure she knew that she was being punished for your sins. She died knowing that you betrayed her.’
‘You killed her, you bastard.’
Banda shook his head, smiling manically. ‘You sealed her fate, whore! Your actions sent her to her death. I simply arranged the meeting.’
Hot salty tears bit at Kit’s eyes. A vision of Val’s tortured, frightened face came into her mind and her resolve faded away. Her only friend had lost her life because she had escaped. Banda was right: she had killed Val as effectively as if she had murdered her with her own hands.
‘You see, whore, it’s not safe for you to have friends. You carry the kiss of death and expose them to me every minute that you resist your fate. It’s you I want but if you continue to fight me…’ His words trailed away as he admired the blade that was all that stood between the skin of her face and his.
‘On your knees, bitch,’ he ordered with an evil glint in his eye that either came from within or was a reflection of the shimmering blade.
She resisted for a second and the knife caught her beneath the chin, close to her throat. If she did what he asked then they would be safe. The only two people that she cared about were under threat; she had no choice. Again he controlled her with her weaknesses, only this time it wasn’t the alcohol that he’d supplied so generously for years: it was the safety of the people that she loved. Fran and Mark need never know what had happened. Mark hated her and Fran could live without her. It didn’t really matter if Fran found her disappearance suspicious. She’d be safe; they’d both be safe. Slowly she lowered herself to her knees. He’d won again.
‘Now we both know I’m right, don’t we?’ he said.
She nodded mutely.
This was no longer her home. She was back in the flat in Soho, where she belonged. The person she’d built was seeping out of her with every laboured breath that escaped from between her lips.
He raised her head upwards so he could see her face. ‘Who is in control, Kit?’
‘You are,’ she whispered.
‘Who owns you, Kit?’
‘You do.’
‘And whose cock are you going to suck every night for the rest of your life for your sins?’
‘Yours.’
He laughed cruelly as his face displayed a triumphant snarl, like a tiger bringing a deer to the ground.
With his free hand and one swift movement his fly was opened and his half-erect penis in her face.
She knew now that this was what she’d feared more than anything, more than her battle with the booze and more than the confrontation with Bill. It was the terror that she would have to go back.
For years Banda had controlled her mind with fear and terror. She had been forced to do things with her body that had ensured any decency would move out.
She could see herself obediently on her knees with wide, unblinking eyes. They stared at nothing and she felt nothing. She had lived like this for almost eight years and escaped it. These last eight months had been nothing more than an interlude, an intermission in what her life should be. Everything that she’d achieved meant nothing. Outwardly that wasn’t much but inside, where it mattered, she was another person. And now she was being forced back. Something inside was beginning to shrivel and die.
Her heart ached for the memory of her friend; the woman who had taken her into Banda’s care yet perversely taken care of her too. Val had suffered the punishment every time Kit had committed the smallest misdemeanour, and she had taken it without casting blame or accusation. Despite everything she had encouraged her to make a run for it. That last night she had desperately begged her to get away. And she had, but at what cost to her old friend?
‘She knew,’ Kit whispered as the realisation ran through her head leaving a blazing trail of clarity. Val had known what would happen to her and she’d wanted Kit to escape anyway. Her friend had made no attempt to avoid the certain punishment for Kit’s crime. She had waited and accepted it, doing so to give Kit the chance for a better life. She had sacrificed her own life for that of the girl she had brought into her world. She had done it to give Kit a future.
She focused every ounce of hurt, betrayal and loathing into her trembling legs. She closed her mouth and rose steadily to her feet.
‘No,’ she said, meeting his eyes with unflinching determination.
For a second Banda’s concentration wavered, surprised by her rebellion. Kit saw the opportunit
y to grab the knife from his hands but she resisted. To remove the physical weapon from his grasp was only a temporary solution. Removing his tool of physical pain meant that he would simply return with another. It wasn’t that that she needed to show him.
‘Go on, Banda, do it,’ she challenged, leaning into the knife. ‘Carry out your threat and do it. If my choice is the knife or a life back with you then plunge it in right now. And because she can identify you, you’d better go in there and kill Terri as well.’
‘Get on your knees, bitch,’ he said, touching her cheek with the end of the blade.
Kit remained still, momentarily reliving the memories that resurfaced from feeling the cold metal against her skin. Her eyes bore into his and she took courage from the confusion in his eyes.
‘Is that the best you can do? Don’t you get it? I’m not fucking frightened of you any more.’ She flicked at the knife. ‘If this is my only alternative then I’ll take it. Do you hear me? I’ll fucking take it but then you’ll be the one running, not me.’
His face contorted into a lecherous grin. ‘Be brave for yourself, whore, but your friends—’
His words stopped as her knee met with his groin. He doubled over and Kit took the opportunity to grab the knife, holding the blade instead of the handle.
‘If anything happens to them, Banda, I’ll always have this,’ she said, waving the knife before his face, which was contorted with pain as he held on to the injured area. ‘It’s the knife that you used on me and I’m betting it’s the one you used to murder Val, and probably others.’
‘Give me that…’
Kit laughed out loud at the sight of him, clutching his dick and struggling to get to his feet. ‘You’re not powerful, Banda. You’re just a man with the same weaknesses as everyone else, except you’re deluded. You thought you could come here and control me like you did before but it’s over.’
‘You fucking bitch, I’ll kill you for this!’ he cried between sobs of pain. She was not so brave as to disregard the murderous look in his bulging eyes. ‘I’ll come looking—’
‘No, you won’t, Banda, because you don’t know how to handle me any more, and if you do, I’ll be ready.’
He gathered himself up and limped, half hunched, to the door. ‘Watch your back, whore!’ he ground out before staggering out of the room.
Kit sank to her knees and dropped the knife as though it would maim her. She had talked with more bravado than she felt. Always she would live in fear of him, that there was nowhere she could hide if he wanted to find her, but her worst fear had confronted her in the ugliest form possible and this time she had beaten it.
She would have stayed in a terrified but victorious heap by the door but another frightened cry came from behind her bedroom door. She had almost forgotten about the girl.
Banda had wedged one of the dining chairs underneath the door handle to her bedroom. She ran and opened it. Terri lay sobbing on the bed, curled up in a ball. Kit sat beside her. The tear-stained face bore no resemblance to the cocky kid she had seen earlier. She had a swollen right eye and a bruise to her neck.
‘Did he do this?’ she asked, softly.
Terri nodded, her bottom lip quivering. ‘I thought he was a punter but as soon as I got into the car, he punched me. We drove past you and then he grabbed me by the throat, pulled me out of the car and brought me up here.’ She began sobbing again.
Kit pulled her close and held her while she cried. ‘It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,’ she soothed, crying inside for what could have become of both of them. ‘You’re safe now, he’s gone.’
She wondered how long he’d been following her. She may have managed to get rid of him but she would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. She suspected that she’d heard the last of him but she would never again assume.
While Terri showered Kit made a quick telephone call and then fixed the girl some warm milk. She settled her in bed and tried to find out a little more about her.
‘I know you, Terri, I was you. That’s why I tried to talk to you. Has anyone else ever tried to persuade you to go home?’
‘Yeah, couple of weeks ago. Some middle-aged cow who could barely understand a fucking word I said. Kept telling me what I’d end up like. How the fuck’s she gonna know?’
The face scrubbed clean of cheap make-up looked even younger than fifteen and the foul mouth didn’t fit.
‘I can tell you, Terri. That bloke was my pimp. I got away from him eight months ago after this.’ Kit rolled up her shirt and pulled down the waistband on her skirt to reveal the deep welt across her buttocks.
‘Eight months and he still had to find me to punish me, do you understand? You’ll get in so deep that you’ll never be free. It seems so easy, doesn’t it, to sell your body and remain outside of what you’re doing? It’s a means to an end. You’ll save the money for a place to live and then forget you ever did it.’
Kit was crying openly now, the shock and terror only just catching up with her. ‘But it won’t happen. It will be within you forever and it will bring you down. The streets are run by people like him, you’ll be beaten if you don’t work for one of them and you’ll be beaten if you do.’
She tried her best to pull herself together. ‘It’s not for me to tell you how to live your life, but are you so sure that whatever drove you away from home is so bad that it’s worse than this?’
‘I want to go home,’ Terri said quietly and then yawned.
Kit pulled the covers up over her and told her to get some sleep. ‘I’ll be right outside.’
She jumped into the shower and tried to cleanse her body. As she was slipping into her dressing gown she heard a soft tapping at the door.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call. I thought maybe you’d gone.’
‘I leave tomorrow,’ Mark said without emotion.
Kit noticed how pale and drawn he looked. ‘I’m sorry, Mark. I know this is hard.’
‘Where is she?’
‘She’s lying down, she’s been beaten.’
He strode towards the door. ‘We need to get her to a hospital.’
Kit shook her head. ‘She doesn’t need that. She’ll just be sore for a few days.’
She wanted to cry. Having to maintain a polite conversation with the man she now knew she loved, and whom she could see hated her, caused her to fight back fresh tears.
Mark opened the bedroom door and took a quick look at the sleeping girl. ‘Christ, how old?’
‘Fifteen.’
‘Punter or pimp?’
Kit took a deep breath. She had decided not to tell him what had happened for a few reasons. She could not stand the humiliation of telling him she’d almost had Banda’s penis in her mouth and she didn’t want his pity. Second, she could not bear the compassion inherent in his nature being showered on her again. The third reason was that she had to prove she was a big girl now: she couldn’t go running and crying to Mark every time she had a problem. That part of their relationship had ended long ago. This would remain her secret and it would give her the strength to know she could make it on her own.
‘Punter,’ she said and looked away.
‘May I?’ Mark asked, pointing to the sofa. She wanted to hit him for being so damned polite. He had to remember what had happened on that sofa. The first time had been tender and sweet and not one word had passed between them. He had known what her body wanted and had guided her around it. The second time had been a possession. Primeval forces had locked them together in a fierce punishing act where their skins soldered together and bone hit bone in the passion that had taken them away from the sofa to a place of pain and pleasure. She remembered it clearly. Obviously he didn’t.
‘She should be at home worrying about spots, not turning tricks.’ He slumped in the chair and ran his fingers through ruffled hair. ‘I think you should tell me the whole story, don’t you?’
Kit could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. ‘Coffee?’ she offered.
He merely nodded.
She couldn’t stand it any longer. ‘I’m sorry, okay. But I didn’t know what else to do. I acted irrationally. I shouldn’t have called you,’ she said by way of an apology.
‘Of course you should. Now tell me what happened.’
Kit told him everything except that it was Banda, up until the point when Terri had supposedly knocked on her door.
Mark drank his coffee during an uncomfortable silence. Kit wanted to kiss the tired lines away from around his eyes.
‘I’d better go and wake her up,’ he said, rising from the sofa.
‘No, let her sleep.’ She didn’t want him to leave yet. The bitterness that existed between them made her crazy. There was a new harshness about him that didn’t fit.
‘Mark, I’m sorry,’ she said, wringing her hands.
‘You said that already.’
‘Not for this, for the things I said. I was wrong.’
‘Forget it,’ he said dismissively. And that was when she knew that he was gone forever. Her heart plummeted. For months he had been her rock. He had been her friend, her guide and more importantly, her lover. Everything felt empty and superficial. She called this flat home but it wasn’t any more because Mark wasn’t here. She could see in his eyes that it was over.
‘Mark, I…’
‘What the hell do you want from me, Kit? There’s nothing left. You’ve had it all. Is it my forgiveness you want now? Yeah, sure, I forgive you, Kit. Why not? It’s only words after all, and that’s all a relationship is to you, isn’t it? Words. You can’t actually get on in there and feel, can you?’
Kit was stunned. She knew it was over but she had to let him know the truth. ‘The things I said. I didn’t mean—’
‘Do you think I give a flying shit about the things you said? Christ, Kit, an actress you’re not! That’s not why I left.’
‘Why then?’
‘Because it was our first test. The first obstacle that came our way and you failed, Kit, you failed miserably.’ He spat the words at her.
‘You wanted something I couldn’t give,’ she protested.
The Forgotten Woman: A gripping, emotional rollercoaster read you’ll devour in one sitting Page 26
