by Louise Wise
Her mobile rang, and she slowed her pace to delve inside her bag to answer it. It was Melvin. She dropped it back in her bag without answering; she really couldn’t be bothered. She sniffed and realised that the episode had upset her more than she thought. So much for her friends being pleased for her!
She gave a deep sigh, and probably looked like a cartoon character of despondency with her head bowed and shoulders hunched over.
‘It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all,’ she quoted beneath her breath. ‘So if the worse happens I’ll be better off anyway!’ She wouldn’t let Mel and the others ruin this for her. Why, she hadn’t been this happy since… ever! She raised her head, and straightened her shoulders. The thought of seeing Ben again, and being taken to dinner and on to see a West End show sent a thrill though her body, and the joy of thinking about him overrode all the negative emotions Melvin had brought out in her.
Her mind wandered to her wardrobe, and what she could wear. She had a moment of panic that she had nothing suitable when she remembered Faye was going to lend her some of her clothes. She’d better not let her down!
A young woman in front of her reminded her of Jan, and it took her mind from her wardrobe. She wondered what had become of the teenager. The abductor was found, but his victims hadn’t been. An involuntary shudder ran through her body. She thought of her parting shot to Melvin. Some friend she was; she didn’t even know what had become of Jan!
Her mobile bleeped. She grabbed it again, and flipped it open. There was a message from Melvin: U need 2 no wot ur gting urself in2.
As she deleted it it bleeped again: Him or me.
Oh my God! Melvin was giving her an ultimatum. Her gay best friend was jealous! She almost laughed. She texted back: him, and turned off her phone.
Her anger, bemusement, sip of brandy had given her drive into getting her life into some sort of order, at least momentarily anyway. She’d enjoy seeing Ben while it lasted – whether Mel and the others were right or not it did not gave them any right to dictate to her, but first she needed to find Jan. She really needed to check to see if the girl was OK. She knew she couldn’t rest until she found out for sure.
Back at her car, she locked her handbag in the boot and set off for her ‘patch’. She didn’t bother with a disguise. She wasn’t a Charlotte the Harlot tonight. She was just Charlie looking for a friend.
*
‘Look who it is!’
Charlie turned towards the sneering voice, her face breaking into a grin. ‘Oh my God, Jan, you’re OK!’
Charlie had been walking the streets, pestering prostitutes about Jan when she turned a corner and practically fell on top of Jan leaning against a lamppost.
Jan drew heavily on a cigarette, before blowing it back out, and coolly viewed her through a swirling mass of smoke. ‘You ain’t welcome on this patch no more. I’ve told the others that you nick our tricks, and they won’t be pleased t’see you.’
‘It wasn’t like that, I swear. I’ve been really worried about you. Where have you been?’
‘Rent’s due,’ she said. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’
‘I’m glad to see you’re OK.’ Charlie moved to hug her, but Jan stepped away sucking on her cigarette.
‘Piss off.’
‘Jan, please! Don’t be like that. What have I done that’s so bad?’
‘As if you didn’t know.’
‘I don’t know. But I do know I’ve been worried about you. I’ve been looking for you all over!’
Jan shrugged. ‘Yeah, right.’
‘I have!’
Jan blew cigarette smoke into the air. ‘So,’ she drawled, ‘how much did you get for my trick? This is a nice patch, we don’t steal one another’s fare, got me?’
Realisation dawned on Charlie. Of course, Jan would still have thought that Ben was a real punter and that Charlie had stolen him. She took a deep breath. ‘I’m not a prostitute.’ She paused and waited for the fall-out, but Jan just stared at her with no emotion on her face. ‘I’ve wanted to tell you for some time, but it’s true, I’m not a prostitute.’
Jan folded her arms, the cigarette hanging from her mouth, and continued to stare.
Charlie realised she wasn’t going to make it easy for her. ‘I’m a writer. Or rather I want to be a writer.’ Charlie winced at the language that came out of Jan’s mouth following her words. She held up her hands in surrender and moved forwards. ‘I’m writing a book about women like you. My character, Sally, is –’
‘What d’you mean women like me?’ Jan spat her cigarette out and ground it out with the ball of her foot. She followed it with spittle. ‘Bitch,’ she said.
Charlie slapped a hand against her forehead. ‘I’m ballsing this up, aren’t I? I didn’t mean that how it sounded,’ she said. ‘Please Jan,’ she added when it looked as if the young girl was about to walk away. ‘Let me apologise.’
Jan crossed her arms over her chest but made no attempt to leave.
Encouraged, Charlie walked forward. ‘I was researching the red-light area, and wasn’t doing a very good job. So I decided to pretend be a prostitute. It certainly opened my eyes to the dangers you faced.’ Charlie reached out and lightly touched Jan on the shoulder. She shrugged her away and stepped back. ‘I wanted to keep everything professional, only I never reckoned on meeting some very nice people. Even some of the clients were nice and just lonely for company. I learned a lot, and I only came out tonight to find you. With this nutter on the loose I’ve been really worried! I thought you’d gone missing like S-Sally,’ her voice cracked slightly. ‘And I wanted to explain what I was doing.’
‘Very nice of you,’ Jan said sarcastically.
‘I felt I owed it to you. We got to be friends, didn’t we?’ Charlie smiled as her memory took her back on a journey. ‘Had some laughs, eh?’
Jan shrugged. ‘S’pose,’ she said ungraciously.
‘I also thought that the man in the red Audi was the abductor. Seeing his flash car and knowing that he was called The Gentleman Abductor, I put two and two together and came up with five.’
Jan’s eyes widened. ‘But you got in the car.’ She frowned. ‘Hang on a minute,’ she said. ‘Are you telling me you stole my trick believing it was this posh loony?’
Charlie nodded and Jan stared at her.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Jan said. She rubbed her forehead as if it hurt. ‘Why would you do such a thing? A-and for me?’
Charlie realised, like herself, Jan hadn’t encountered many people willing to be friendly without some kind of benefit to themselves. ‘You’re a lovely, person. And I like you,’ she said, and watched as Jan blinked away tears. ‘But it turned out he was a colleague also doing a story,’ Charlie continued. ‘Very embarrassing,’ she said on a laugh, hoping to brighten the mood. It raised a light smile. ‘But I didn’t know that at the time and I couldn’t let you get in.’
‘You could’ve been killed!’ Jan said, horrified. She was still evidently digesting what Charlie had told her. ‘And for someone you barely know. I wouldn’t have done that for anyone!’
Charlie grinned. ‘Oh, I dunno, you can surprise yourself in all manner of things.’
‘This colleague,’ she said frowning. ‘Did he think he was picking you or a prostitute up?’
Charlie was still grinning. ‘He thought he’d picked up a prostitute.’
A smile began to spread across Jan’s face. ‘I bet he was shocked.’
‘Hey, gorgeous,’ a male voice said, interrupting them.
Jan turned. ‘Danny!’
The man came over and circled her waist. ‘Ain’t you given up this lark yet, girl?’ he said.
Jan looked at Charlie. ‘This is Danny,’ she introduced. ‘My favourite punter.’
Danny groaned. ‘I wanna be more than that and you know it.’
Charlie smiled at the man. She’d seen him before. He’d been pestering Jan for freebies, and Charlie had been sickened by how such
an older man could want sex so casually off an obviously younger girl. But he didn’t look as old as she had first thought. Probably late twenties.
‘C’mon, call it a night, and come home wiv me,’ he said.
Jan giggled. ‘That won’t pay the bills.’
‘I’ll pay ‘em,’ he said. ‘C’mon,’ he encouraged, with an extra squeeze around the waist. ‘You know I want you off the streets. T’ain’t safe.’
Jan wriggled under his arm. ‘Danny, this is Charlotte ... is that your real name?’
She nodded. ‘Although I’m called Charlie.’
‘Please t’meet you Charlie,’ said Danny. He stuck out his hand. His hand was warm and firm when he shook her hand. He smiled, and his eyes crinkled in all the right places. ‘A friend of Jan’s is a friend of mine.’
Charlie walked away, as Danny pulled Jan into the circle of his arms and kissed her. Jan would be all right, she thought to herself. Danny did seem to care for her in his own way. Maybe, with his encouragement, Jan would climb out of this hole and make something of herself.
‘Charlie!’ Jan called her back.
Charlie turned, and Jan mouthed ‘thanks’.
Charlie smiled, she’d been forgiven.
FORTY EIGHT
Ben gripped the telephone; his heart somersaulting against his chest. Andrea Dillies had been missing for less than 24 hours, and in a style that led police to believe the Gentleman Abductor had struck again. The police now believe the man held for the crime is the wrong one.
Ben crashed the phone back into its cradle as his body temperature dropped several degrees and an icy touch of fear left a residue of horror along his spine. He expelled a long breath. He didn’t know why, but he knew Charlie was in danger. Call it a sixth sense, intuition, or fear for somebody you loved, but he knew she was in some sort of danger – and had known for several hours. Only he couldn’t work it out until the telephone call, but even now he couldn’t think why.
‘I met a girl, Jan, she’s only seventeen.’
Why did odd sentences keep coming to him?
‘I’m frightened for her.’
He closed his eyes and raided his memory. They tied up with his anxiety over Charlie and the abductor being still on the streets.
‘I need to find Jan.’
Ben stood up; his hands gripping his hair. She wouldn’t go out to the red-light areas looking for her friend, would she?
‘You took one hell of a risk going out onto the streets like that.’ But now, in her mind, the Gentleman Abductor was behind bars, and the risk was eliminated. This is exactly what she would do!
He grabbed the phone again and keyed her office extension. There was no answer. He twisted towards the wall clock, which showed after ten. He had stayed behind sketching out a rough representation of what the front page would be like for tomorrow and had lost track of time, and of course, Charlie would have left the office hours ago. He pressed her home number on the keypad, his fingers becoming muddled in his haste, and he had to repeat the process several times before he heard ringing, but he only got her voice on her answer machine telling him to leave a message.
He cursed himself for not having the foresight to getting her mobile number.
*
Charlie was walking home feeling satisfied now that she had found Jan. She was certain the girl would be OK; she had Danny and he seemed determined to end her life of vice.
A car slowed before her, and then stopped. Charlie glanced up, and waited. As expected, the passenger window slid down and an older man leaned across the seat to peer out. Charlie had been amazed at how many older men seek out women for sex. This man had a pleasant smiling face, and was wearing an obvious toupee. Charlie felt sorry for him. She stepped forward.
The man cleared his throat, and said something.
‘Sorry? I can’t hear,’ she stepped nearer.
‘I’ve never done this before,’ he whispered. ‘Are you, er, accepting custom?’ he asked, and his lined face flushed with embarrassment.
‘No,’ Charlie said, leaning through the window so she could catch his words. ‘But they’re plenty more ladies on Bridge Street. Just down there on your left.’
‘It’s a one way street,’ the man answered, peering out through the front window screen to where she directed. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Not that one, but the next. Bridge Street,’ she repeated, leaning further in window. Then it happened so fast that she almost didn’t register a knife was pressed against the soft skin beneath her chin, and a surprisingly strong hand had gripped her upper arm.
‘Get in the car.’
Charlie began to struggle but the blade punctured her skin and drew blood just above her throat and she feared he wouldn’t have any hesitation in gorging deeper. He opened the passenger door and pulled her inside. The knife was pressed so tightly against her throat any quick movement could make the man slice into her oesophagus leaving her either dead or dying.
Charlie fell into the passenger seat, her heart beating like crazy. The man removed the knife from her throat, and locked the doors. He looked at her.
‘I think I’ll give Bridge Street a miss tonight.’
His voice was deep and posh, Charlie noted too late. And his car, a luxurious red BMW.
FORTY NINE
‘What’s the matter with you?’ the man snarled as they hurtled down the one-way streets.
Charlie clasped her chest, and then clawed at the window. ‘Breathe, c- can’t breathe.’
The man swore, but opened her window using dual control. Charlie hung her head out and screamed at the top of her voice. But the streets looked deserted.
Muttering, the man, obviously not as old as she first thought, dragged her back in and closed the window. The car swerved wildly to one side, and he grabbed the steering wheel to haul the car back onto the road. He braked and Charlie seized her chance, grabbed the wheel and tried to steer the car towards the pavement and an empty bus shelter.
The man, his toupee dislodged, flung her off and took control.
Charlie flew at him, trying to see where he’d put the knife, but there was no evidence of it. She scratched his face, but a dull pain across her cheek knocked her back against the passenger window. The car was heading towards the smaller streets. He seemed to know every twist, turn and junction. And with a sickening sinking feeling in her stomach, Charlie acknowledged she was in serious trouble.
Finally, the car stopped. Before she could act, he leant across her and held her still with his weight. The knife had reappeared and was now pressed against her cheek. His breath spilled over her face; a pungent mix of cigarettes and gum disease. ‘You’re going to enjoy this,’ he said softly. With the flat side of the knife, he traced her jaw line, and watched her reaction intently.
‘Not half as much you as obviously are,’ she said.
He chuckled. ‘A sense of humour? I like that.’ He sat back in his seat. ‘My name’s Rick,’ he said, taking the handbrake off. ‘Say, Rick.’
‘Dropping the beginning letter “P”?’
To her annoyance Rick chuckled again. He put the car into gear and moved off picking up speed.
‘I’m Charlotte,’ Charlie said, remembering that a built rapport with an attacker made him less likely to kill you. Kill her! My God, she was in deep do-do. ‘It’s my birthday tomorrow. I’ll be twenty-one,’ she lied.
‘You look older.’
She glared at him. He really was Rick the Prick. He slowed for traffic lights and Charlie looked from the window, desperately trying to catch someone’s eye from outside. She saw an elderly man walking a dog, raised her hand with the pretence of scratching her eye and wriggled her fingers at him.
But the man didn’t even look her way. He walked on, shoulders hunched. It was late, and there was nobody else around. And then the car was moving again.
*
Ben couldn’t stop himself from breaking into a run as he ignored the lift and ran down the stairs several at a time. He jumped t
he last four and burst through the door of the large office causing Melvin and several others to look up startled.
‘Melvin,’ Ben said, but Melvin dropped his head and began to pound the keyboard of his computer. ‘Melvin,’ he said again and Melvin looked up with a sigh. ‘Why didn’t you answer your phone?’ he protested. ‘Look, I’m trying to get hold of Charlie. Any idea where she might be?’
‘Have you tried her home number?’ he replied coolly.
‘I have.’ He raked his hair. ‘Melvin, it’s important, else I wouldn’t bother you.’
Melvin pursed his lips and let a small sound escape, to what Ben read as displeasure. ‘Have you tried her mobile?’
‘I don’t have her mobile number. Could you give it to me?’ Ben brightened. He’d be able to speak to her and discover that she was OK, and that it was his own stupid imagination playing tricks on him.
‘Certainly not!’
‘Pardon me?’
‘I can’t give out her personal number willy-nilly. What kind of friend does that kind of thing?’
Ben had the impression that Melvin was taking an unnatural delight in seeing him uncomfortable. ‘Phone her and ask her,’ he said. Even if Melvin didn’t pass on her number, his mind would be at rest if he knew she was safe second-hand.
With an affected sigh, Melvin picked up the phone. ‘I know her number off by heart,’ he said. Ben was sure that was a jibe, but Melvin’s face was dead-pan and revealed nothing. ‘It’s gone to voicemail,’ he said after a moment and replaced the handset.
Ben ran his hands over his face. ‘Text her,’ he said. ‘Tell her to phone me ASAP.’
Melvin tapped his fingernails on the desk. ‘Sir, I know I’m only a member your staff but we’ve a major scoop. I’m rewriting the lead and,’ he checked his watch pointedly, ‘we’re behind schedule.’
