Hiding in Plain Sight

by Susan Lewis

  Penny frowned as she thought. ‘Well, I was back and forth quite a lot between various countries and so on, and I was almost seventeen when I got sold, so that would make it close to three years.’

  ‘Sold?’ Maureen echoed in disbelief. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Penny’s tragic look struck Andee as a tad overdone as she said, ‘I’m afraid your brother ran into some financial difficulties, and selling me was how he solved them.’

  Maureen looked at Andee, so aghast she had no idea what to say.

  Unable to tell if Penny was being truthful, Andee said, ‘Who did he sell you to?’

  ‘Ah, well there begins a part of my life story that I’d really rather forget, but I understand that you need to know so I’ll do my best. You see, I was already working as an escort – sorry, Mum, but you must have guessed.’

  Maureen didn’t deny it.

  ‘The difference was, at the house on Glebe Place we girls were treated like princesses. We had everything we could ever want, money, clothes, jewellery, holidays … Men would fly us in private jets to their yachts, or their gorgeous villas in exotic places and lavish us with everything our hearts desired. We could even say no if we weren’t in the mood … It was a magical time. I really felt as though I belonged, and I was quite popular as well, being as young as I was.’

  Seeing that her mother was shrinking inside, Andee said to her, ‘Do you want to hear any more of this? If you don’t I’m sure Graeme will take you over to the pub.’

  ‘No, I want to hear it,’ Maureen assured her, sounding hardier than she looked. To Penny she said, ‘Was my brother acting as your pimp during that time?’

  Penny frowned. ‘That’s a harsh word,’ she chided. ‘The way I’d put it is that he was very good at introducing me to people he thought would enjoy my company, and whose company I would also enjoy. He was very attentive to my needs. He even organised private dance lessons for me so I could expand my entertaining talents. I’m afraid I’m nowhere near as limber these days, but we are talking some time ago.’

  Knowing precisely what sort of dancing she was referring to, Andee let her mother continue to study Penny’s expressions and tone.

  ‘So the entire time we were going out of our minds with fear and worry,’ Maureen declared incredulously, ‘you were right there, in Chelsea?’

  Penny grimaced. ‘Well, not then,’ she admitted. ‘It was all getting a bit fraught around the time I decided to take off for good, so John’s boss Val, short for Valentin, flew me to his home on the Black Sea. You should see it, it’s as grand as Buckingham Palace, or it was. I’ve no idea if it’s still there, but …’

  Cutting her off, Maureen said, ‘So you knew what you were putting us through, but it didn’t matter to you?’

  Sounding apologetic, Penny said, ‘To be honest I didn’t think you cared.’

  ‘But if you saw the news, heard me making an appeal …’

  ‘Actually, I stayed away from the news because it always brought me down. I find it very depressing, even now. Oh lovely,’ she smiled as Graeme set a tray on the table. ‘I’m getting quite thirsty doing all this talking.’

  After waiting for their cups to be filled and for Graeme to settle into the chair her father had always used, Andee said, ‘So you were sold. To whom?’

  Penny’s eyes went down, and the way she seemed to hunch into herself made her appear surprisingly fragile.

  Was this an act, Andee wondered.

  Maureen said, ‘You don’t have to tell us …’

  ‘I was sold to some very bad people,’ Penny murmured, not looking at them. ‘Very bad indeed. I expect you came across their type, Andee, when you were in the police. Traffickers. They’re the kind no decent people ever want to meet, and no one in their right mind would ever want to mess with. They didn’t take care of us girls at all. The places they kept us …’ She swallowed dryly and put a partly-gloved hand to her head. ‘One mattress between three girls, paper peeling off damp walls, windows cracked and broken to let in the freezing air, bare floorboards, the kind of toilet facilities that made you gag to go near them. Sometimes we were lucky to get fed more than once a day, and the men they made us work for were animals.’

  Andee could see her mother’s colour draining.

  ‘They gave us drugs, of course,’ Penny went on. ‘Hard drugs and often cut with something bad. Anything to keep us quiet and submissive.’ Putting down her cup, she peeled back the gloved end of one sleeve to reveal her eczema-ravaged hand, and rolled it up further to show the scars she still bore from those days. Though faint now, there was no mistaking the old puncture wounds and purplish withering of the skin. ‘My neck and feet don’t make pretty pictures either,’ she told them. ‘Most of my hair fell out during that time, and several teeth – one was knocked out by someone who tried to stab me. It was its own kind of hell. I wanted to come home then, when I was lucid enough to remember I had a home. When I was sober I felt so sick and afraid that I wanted to die. We all did. We tried to escape, but we never could and the punishment when we were caught was terrible. Our handlers were brutal beyond anything I even knew existed. I can still remember some of their names, Rafal, Edouard, Mohammed …’

  ‘Where were they holding you?’ Andee asked, trying to break what might have been a rehearsed story, although the scars and even the tone were certainly convincing.

  Penny didn’t appear thrown. ‘They moved us around so we never really knew where we were, north, south, England, Wales. I don’t think we ever went overseas, but I can’t say for sure. They used to pile us into the back of a van that had no windows, no air, and drive us for hours to the next place and keep us there until they decided it was time to move us on again.’

  ‘Were there never any police raids? Someone at some stage must have been suspicious, even if they didn’t realise exactly what was happening?’

  ‘The only police that came weren’t there to rescue us.’

  The meaning of that was so clear that Andee almost regretted asking the question.

  ‘In better moments I used to try and teach the other girls to speak English,’ Penny continued. ‘Most of them had been brought from other countries, lured in with promises of a better life and money enough to send back to their families. It was tragic and hopeless. We were so young, all of us. I knew they’d need to speak English if we ever managed to get away, even if it was only to ask for help. I remember one girl who was only twelve and so tiny she looked closer to ten. Her name was Helena. She’d left home with her sister, but no one knew where the sister was. I never found out where she was from; the first rape she suffered was so vicious it killed her before I could get that far. I’ve no idea what they did with her body, or any of the bodies they ended up with, because it wasn’t unusual for someone to die. There were never any questions asked, no one even knew they were in the country.’

  Knowing very well how those types operated, Andee said, ‘How did you manage to survive it?’

  Penny shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea, but there were plenty of times I thought I wouldn’t.’

  ‘How long were you there?’ Maureen asked.

  ‘Four, nearly five years. And do you want to know how I got out? Now here’s an irony for you, the man who put me there, who sold me to save his own skin, was the same man who brokered the deal to get me out. In fact, if I were feeling generous I could say he rescued me, but actually it wasn’t really John Victor who did that, it was Sven and his wife Ana. They changed my life. I have them to thank for everything.’

  Though keen to know more about these angels of mercy, if they existed, Andee was more interested right now to hear the vital part of the story that Penny had blithely missed out. ‘Where was your son all this time?’ she asked softly.

  Penny’s demeanour changed; her eyes sharpened with a wariness that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

  ‘If he’s the age we think he is,’ Andee continued, ‘you must have had him when you were sixteen or seventeen.’

  Pen
ny’s face was taut. ‘My son is my business, no one else’s.’

  ‘But he’s my grandson,’ Maureen pointed out. ‘That alone makes him my business. The fact that he came here …’

  ‘Was an act of foolishness on his part and he knows it.’

  ‘Foolish to want to meet his family?’ Andee countered.

  Penny didn’t answer, and when it became clear no one else was going to speak, Graeme said, ‘Where was he during the time you were … imprisoned?’

  Minutes ticked by. The air was awful, tense and full of resentment. In the end Penny spoke as if the question hadn’t been asked. ‘Did Gerry Trowbridge tell you about the time Daddy saw me and turned around and walked away?’

  Stiffening along with her mother, Andee said, ‘He says it never happened.’

  Penny didn’t appear surprised or troubled. ‘I was still in Glebe Place,’ she said, ‘and I admit it probably wasn’t the best way to see your daughter. I was high and not alone. The man I was with actually invited Daddy to join in.’ She smirked sourly. ‘He didn’t know who the stranger at the door was, of course.’

  Trying to blot the scene from her mind, Andee said, ‘Did you speak to him?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I can’t remember now. He was there one minute, gone the next.’

  ‘If he knew where you were,’ Maureen stated, ‘he’d have brought you straight home. Or he’d have sent other officers in to get you.’

  ‘He couldn’t do that.’

  ‘Why? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Mum,’ Andee tried to interrupt.

  ‘Please listen,’ Maureen admonished.

  Penny looked directly at Andee. ‘Trowbridge told you.’

  ‘Would you have carried out the threats?’ Andee challenged.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘What threats?’ Maureen wanted to know.

  Penny said, ‘I told him I’d tell the world what he and his father had been doing to me for years.’

  Maureen’s jaw dropped; a moment later she was looking desperately at Andee.

  ‘It’s not true, Mum,’ Andee assured her. To Penny she said, ‘Why would you lie like that?’

  ‘They abused me,’ Penny declared, ‘and our mother allowed it to happen.’

  Stunned, Andee watched Maureen turn white as she got to her feet. With a shaking hand pointing towards the door, she said, ‘Get out of my house. Get out right now and don’t ever come back.’

  Penny’s eyes darkened with something terrible as she stood up. ‘If you think this is over …’

  ‘Get out!’ Maureen screamed. ‘You are no daughter of mine.’

  Graeme rose quickly to steady her as Andee, not yet finished, followed Penny outside. ‘Why are you telling these lies?’ she hissed, spinning Penny back as she closed the door behind her.

  ‘Lies?’ Penny echoed smoothly.

  ‘We both know that Daddy would never have laid a finger on you that way …’

  ‘You tell yourself what you want to.’ She was looking at her phone as it rang.

  Grabbing it before she could answer, Andee said, ‘Tell me this, does your son know who his father is?’

  Penny’s eyebrows arched, almost as though she was enjoying the challenge. ‘Are you saying you’d tell him?’ she asked. ‘I don’t believe you would, but you won’t get the chance, because he knows what’ll happen if he tries to come near you again.’

  Having no idea what that meant, Andee glanced round as the door opened behind her.

  ‘Ah, Graeme,’ Penny smiled sweetly. ‘Tell me, how’s Nadia?’

  ‘You know her?’ Graeme responded, startled.

  ‘Not as well as you do,’ she replied, and taking her phone from Andee she went to get into her car.

  ‘None of it’s true,’ Maureen insisted as soon as Andee returned. ‘Why is she saying these things? Neither your father, nor his father, would ever …’

  ‘I know, I know,’ Andee interrupted, going to calm her. ‘Nobody believes it, but according to Gerry Trowbridge Daddy was afraid people would and if they did he was even more fearful of what it would do to us, you and me …’

  ‘But if he knew where she was …’

  ‘She didn’t want to come back. That was the whole point. She just told us, she was happy where she was. At least while she was in Chelsea.’

  ‘But what happened after …’

  ‘He wouldn’t have known where she was then.’

  ‘Oh, Andee. This is terrible. I wish … I don’t want to say it, but I’m starting to wish she’d never come back.’

  ‘Me too, but she’s done it for a reason, and I’m damned sure that it’s connected to her son.’

  ‘Which means we have to find out more about John Victor,’ Graeme stated, pulling the cork from a bottle of wine. ‘She must have had the baby before he used her to pay off his debts. A child would never have survived what she went through, and the thugs who bought her wouldn’t have wanted it around anyway.’

  ‘So what happened to him?’ Andee murmured, afraid that she might already know the answer.

  Not until she and Graeme were alone did Andee voice her suspicions. ‘Did John Victor keep the baby,’ she wondered, ‘or, God forbid, did he sell him too?’ Taking out her phone she connected to Gould, and took a few minutes to update him on what she’d learned over the last couple of days. ‘If you can spare Leo,’ she said, ‘I need him to find out everything he can about this Val or Valentin who owned the house on Glebe Place, and anyone else living there at the time in question. I’d also like to know the whereabouts of Alison Brown.’

  ‘Remind me,’ he prompted.

  ‘She’s the woman who gave evidence at the inquest.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Thanks to a shooting on the notorious Temple Fields estate, followed by a chaotic hunt for the gunman, it was over a week before Andee received any news from Leo. During that time neither she nor her mother heard anything from Penny, or her son. All that seemed to be happening, to Andee’s annoyance, was that she was becoming ever more aware of how often Graeme spoke to Nadia on the phone. In spite of knowing that this was exactly what Penny had intended – plant a seed of doubt and let insecurity or paranoia or simple imagination take it from there – she was in danger of falling for it.

  But the calls were frequent, the tone was usually fond and Nadia was clearly quite gifted when it came to making him laugh.

  ‘It’s a huge job, and she’s paying him a fortune,’ Andee informed her mother, as they waited for Graeme to finish yet another call before they wandered over to the pub for lunch.

  ‘She’s probably one of those needy types,’ Maureen commented, ‘can’t do or think anything without getting someone’s approval first.’

  Although this wasn’t the Nadia Andee had met, she decided to let the subject drop rather than allow Penny’s manipulation to occupy any more of her thoughts.

  ‘I’ll need to go back in a day or two,’ Graeme informed them as they meandered across the green. ‘The builders should be ready to move on to the next phase by the end of the week, so I ought to be there to supervise.’

  ‘Have you asked Nadia if she knows my sister?’ Andee wondered, as they settled down at one of the outdoor tables.

  ‘No, I haven’t. For one thing I wouldn’t know which name to use for your sister, and for another it would make me feel I was dancing to her tune.’

  Surprised and impressed by that, Andee said, ‘So you thought the same as I did, that she was trying to get to me?’

  ‘Of course, I know she is trying to get to you. And I’m glad to see it hasn’t worked. Now, Maureen, what will it be? A glass of Picpoul?’

  As he went into the pub Andee began texting Alayna, wanting to know how her second date with the ripped and amazing coolest dude in town had gone, when Graeme’s phone vibrated. Glancing at it, she saw the message was from Nadia and had read it before she could stop herself. Don’t worry about the hotel. I’ll see to it. Bisous chéri.

  As the screen da
rkened Andee looked at her mother, who had also read the text.

  ‘It doesn’t have to mean anything,’ Maureen said carefully.

  ‘I’m sure it doesn’t.’

  ‘He’s a good man.’

  ‘I know that.’ Andee was trying to be patient.

  ‘But she’s rich and beautiful …’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘You, but money won’t sway Graeme any more than looks. For someone like him it’s personality, character that counts.’

  ‘Well, she’s blessed in that area too,’ Andee commented, waving out to Brigand Bob who’d just emerged from the Smugglers’ Cave.

  ‘I asked Bob yesterday,’ Maureen said, ‘if he’d seen the boy in the red Corsa again, but he hasn’t.’

  Andee had been thinking a lot about her nephew too.

  ‘I wonder where he is, what he’s doing,’ Maureen sighed.

  Andee said, ‘If you’re serious about not wanting Penny back here …’

  Maureen’s jaw tightened. ‘Of course I’m serious. I’ll never forgive her for what she said about your father, and to claim that I stood by and let it happen … What kind of person is she?’ She raised a hand as Andee made to interrupt. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care who she is,’ she declared, ‘but I do know that we don’t need her in our lives.’

  Although she was aware of how much it was hurting her mother to say that, Andee didn’t argue. What she said was, ‘But her son might need us, that’s what you keep thinking?’

  Maureen didn’t deny it. ‘Don’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course, and I’ll find him, but to do that I’ll either need to see Penny again or make some sort of breakthrough where John Victor is concerned, possibly both.’ She checked her phone as it rang. Seeing it was Leo Johnson she clicked on. ‘Leo,’ she declared, relieved to get a call at last. ‘Do you have any news on Valentin of Glebe Place, or John Victor?’

  ‘OK, we know JV bought it going over a cliff. In Valentin’s case it was cancer and he was back in Moscow by then. The Chelsea house was sold in ’99 to some advertising type who’s still there throwing his own lifestyle parties, but I don’t think they fall into quite the same category as those of Valentin’s day. Tracking anyone who lived in the house around the time your sister was there is going to be near impossible, given that there are no records to assist us. However, I’ve had a bit more luck where Alison Brown of inquest fame is concerned. It wasn’t easy; she’s Ally Jackson these days and is a very respectable solicitor for a firm based in Kensington. She, her husband and two kids live in Hammersmith, not far from the River Café she told me, as if I’d know where that is.’