A Beginner’s Guide to Murder

by Rosalind Stopps

  Nina stared at her. Dyed blonde hair, not quite shoulder length. Blue eyes. Thin lips. Slight speech impediment when pronouncing words with s in them. Slight accent that seems to come and go, may not be real. Long fingernails she uses to pinch with. Cruel, cruel, cruel. I’d be able to describe you, Nina thought as she stared at Fiona. I could draw a picture that anyone could recognise. I could assemble you from a photofit or make you out of Lego. I’d know you anywhere. I’m not going to forget you.

  The thought sustained her through the next few hours. That and the decision to run. Nina was going to run as soon as she could, she had decided. London was the place. It should be easy there.

  As they travelled up to town Nina thought that London had never looked more beautiful. She stared out of the car window at the dingy streets and scuffed snow. If she could get clear, she thought, she would never leave London again. Tall buildings and empty trees springing out of pavements, people sleeping in doorways, people walking, people running, people talking to each other, people. People everywhere. Women everywhere. Someone would help her, Nina thought. There were enough people in the streets, going about their business, eating, drinking and laughing, enough to make sure that one or two of them were good, one or two of them would help her, and that was all she needed.

  ‘What are you looking out of the window for?’ toad man said. ‘Don’t you want to look at the back of my lovely head? Look at that, Fee, she’s looking out of the window as if she belongs in my nice car.’

  Nina flinched. Most of the other girls had gone in a minibus, Nina had seen them leave. Just her and Ronnie in the fancy black car with toad man and Fiona. She wasn’t sure why. Ronnie was asleep. She looked terrible, and Nina hoped that they were going to take her to a hospital. In fact, Nina thought, it was her responsibility to make sure that they did.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Nina said, ‘but Romana really isn’t well. Could we take her to a hospital?’

  Toad man didn’t look round.

  ‘Did you hear anything? I didn’t. Just a kind of buzzing in my ear,’ he said.

  Fiona made a noise of exasperation, as if Nina had asked a hundred times instead of once.

  Ronnie opened her eyes and smiled at Nina.

  ‘It’s OK,’ she whispered.

  Nina got her bottle of water from the bag at her feet and held it to Ronnie’s mouth. Ronnie’s eyes sparkled for a moment.

  ‘Just a sip, Neens,’ she said. ‘Remember.’

  Nina looked at the way Ronnie was slumped in her seat. Her wrists looked impossibly thin. Her hands were picking at the thin scarf trailing round her neck as if it was covered in burrs. Nina realised that Ronnie looked like a very old woman. Like a woman Nina had seen being wheeled past on a trolley once when she had been at the hospital. Like someone who might die. Nina looked towards the toad man again, trying to pluck up the courage to speak. Ronnie grabbed Nina’s wrist.

  ‘Don’t,’ she whispered, ‘it’s not worth it. I’m OK. Honest.’

  Ronnie leaned her head back against the car window as if the effort of saying those few words had worn her out. Nina settled back into her seat and looked out again. Buses, red ones, carrying people to work, to doctors’ appointments, swimming lessons, college. All the ordinary things that seemed so impossible for her. And men, Nina realised, men everywhere, walking around as if they owned the place. Men who wouldn’t think twice about hurting her, hurting poor Ronnie, doing anything they wanted if the price was right. Or doing it anyway if it wasn’t. Nina knew that there were good men out there, she was sure of it. She thought back over her short life and could only think of Bilbo. Thinking about him made him suddenly real, and it was as though he was there in the car beside her. Nina wished that she could reach out and touch him.

  ‘Nina is not,’ he would have said. ‘Nina is not, what is Neens not? What not?’

  Nina is not sad, she would have answered, knowing that’s what he would have meant. Nina is not sad, Bilbo. Nina said it to herself now, so quietly that even Ronnie, snuggled up against her, couldn’t hear.

  ‘Nina is not sad.’

  Nina watched the road signs and saw that they were in south-east London, maybe New Cross or Forest Hill. They pulled up outside an ordinary-looking house in a cul de sac off the main road. They were newish houses, little and boxy with tiny, neat lawns. It seemed a most unlikely place for a brothel and for a moment, Nina had an irrational hope that things might have changed.

  The car stopped outside one of the houses and toad man jumped out. He opened the rear door and snarled at the girls, ‘You two bloody stay in here, right? No funny business. I’ll get you back if you do.’

  He said something in French that sounded vicious before reaching over and pinching Ronnie’s leg, hard.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, turning to the woman who had just come out of the house next door. ‘Hi, we’re here to pick up the keys for number ten. The Airbnb.’

  Nina was amazed that his voice sounded so different when he spoke to the woman. Smooth, like a continental romantic hero.

  ‘I’ve got them here,’ the woman said, looking into the back seat where the girls were.

  ‘That’s my daughters,’ he said. ‘Some of their friends might be dropping round later but I’ll make sure they keep the noise down.’

  The woman smiled in a reserved way. Nina could see that she wouldn’t be any help at all. She thought about screaming at her to help, call the police, get them out, but she could tell from the woman’s pursed lips and crossed arms that she wouldn’t want to get involved. Toad noticed it too and grinned at Nina.

  ‘Looks like a lovely place we’re staying in,’ he said.

  Nina tried not to react. Faced with his arrogance, spite and entitlement, she knew she could only bear witness for the time being, nothing more. Remember all the facts that she could, and try to survive. Look for her chance, and survive long enough to bring him down. She remembered all the teachers who had said that it was good to have some ambition. Nina followed toad and Fiona inside as though she was walking in a dream.

  I’ve got that, she thought. I’ve got ambition you wouldn’t believe. Nina stared at the plain white walls in the front room of the Airbnb. For a moment she missed the fish, wished it was here with her. Such a tasteful room. Such an incongruous setting for a torture chamber. There was a painting on the wall of a chair in a sunlit room and Nina wished she was there, sitting on it, all of this forgotten.

  Fiona went into action straight away on her computer, putting photos of the girls on the internet and making appointments for men to come round. Whatever else happened, Nina thought, she was determined to stay alive long enough to make sure that this didn’t happen to anyone else.

  ‘I don’t think Romana is well enough to work,’ she said. ‘She’s definitely running a temperature and she’s very pale.’

  ‘Look at that,’ toad man said to Fiona, ‘she’s nicer than you. You didn’t say anything about Romana, you couldn’t care less, could you, sweetie?’

  Fiona glared at Nina and made a gesture that Nina could only interpret as the intention to get her back later.

  ‘That’s OK, my sweetie,’ toad man said. ‘You can work twice as hard, how about that? We’ll get them in and out really quickly, if you’ll pardon the pun. In and out, you get it?’

  Nina helped Romana into a chair. I’m going to run, she promised herself, I’m going to get out of here.

  Nina’s life did not improve in the days that followed. If anything, she was worse off than before, hardly allowed to have more than a few hours’ sleep between clients and watched at all times. She saw Ronnie only for occasional snatched conversations in passing, so Nina was surprised one morning to see Ronnie dressed with a bag packed and waiting by her feet.

  ‘It’s worked, Nina, I’m getting out,’ she said. ‘They’re going to take me to hospital.’

  Ronnie held her hand up for a high five.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ Nina said.

  Nina’s head was teeming with q
uestions. How could they let her leave? Surely it would be too dangerous for them, surely they would be frightened that she would say something to someone about what was going on?

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Ronnie said. Her voice was quiet, like a whisper. ‘But they’re moving on again. I heard them talking when they thought I was asleep. They’re going to move to another Airbnb, I think, not far from here. That way they think they’ll be safe if I talk. And also,’ Ronnie stopped to cough, ‘also they’ve threatened my sister. She’s only twelve, and she’s in a rubbish foster family, and I think they mean it. So I can’t tell anyone about what’s going on, Nina, I can’t. I’m so sorry, I wanted to save you too.’

  ‘Hey,’ Nina said, ‘you don’t need to. I can save myself. You look after yourself and I’ll see you again somewhere happy. Start eating again, right?’

  Nina blew Ronnie a kiss. She felt scared for her. Would they really take Ronnie to a hospital? It didn’t seem possible. Nina could feel danger everywhere, as if the world was made of danger, one big scary place with hundreds, thousands of nasty things waiting round every corner. She knew that her own body was on the verge of collapse. Fiona and toad man had kept their promise to increase Nina’s daily numbers now that Ronnie wasn’t working. There were a couple of new girls working alongside Nina but she kept her distance. She didn’t have room for anyone else, that’s how she felt. Closed off to everyone and everything. She was determined not to take the drugs that toad offered to all the girls, but it was getting more and more difficult to get through each day. Other people were weights she couldn’t afford to carry.

  Ronnie was right. Later that day the whole operation moved to a new location, an Airbnb a few minutes away by car. There were at least two carloads, and Nina had no idea whether Ronnie had come along in another car, or whether she really had gone to hospital.

  Nina could hear Fiona talking to clients as soon as they got to the new place. Always the same wheedling tone. ‘Hey, baby, we can help you, baby, thank you, sweetie.’ She felt sick.

  It took a little while before the first customer turned up, and in that time Nina was able to look around the house. She couldn’t believe her luck. There was a glimmer of hope. A chance, a better chance than Nina had had before. The front door. It was the weak link Nina had been waiting for. It might be possible to escape, she thought. The front door was locked only by a Yale lock and the handle twisted easily and quietly. If Nina could only calm down, stop herself from jumping at every noise, she was sure she would be able to seize her opportunity and get the hell out.

  Nina thought of Bilbo that night, and how terrible it would be if they threatened him, like they had Ronnie’s sister. Bilbo was the nearest Nina had to family, and the thought of seeing his face again gave her strength. She guessed that toad and Fiona were probably not expecting her to run any more. They’d started to treat her a little better, and even to ask her opinion on things sometimes. Things like bed covers and positions of chairs, and every time it made Nina marvel. Did they really think she was one of them, that they were all in it together working for the same cause? Did they, could they, imagine that she cared a damn? It was extraordinary how they fooled themselves, Nina thought.

  Nina’s first chance came the day after they had moved to the new house. Fiona and toad were upstairs in their bedroom, Nina had seen them go up. The other girls were in the living room. Business was often slow in the mornings. Nina had been forced to see clients until four a.m., and every part of her felt sore. Even if I die, she thought, it will be better than staying here, and yet she was so battered, so scared, that it would be the simplest thing in the world to convince herself that she was safer staying where she was. Nina thought of the heroines from books she had admired – Offred, Maggie Tulliver, Elizabeth Bennet, Scout, what would they do? It was obvious. Of course they’d leave. They’d leave regardless of the danger.

  Nina slipped downstairs and pulled the handle. The door opened without a creak and she was out so quickly she could barely process the information. She had expected to feel free, to experience a jolt of excitement, to feel different somehow, but she didn’t. Nina felt scared, cold, sore, and she still felt like a prisoner. It’s in your head, girl, she whispered to herself. She made herself keep on walking. At every point where there was a choice of direction, Nina moved towards wherever the most people were. If there was a crowd at a bus stop, she waited there for a moment or two to catch her breath, but other than that Nina kept choosing the most populated streets. She had no money for a bus or train, and cursed herself for not trying harder to get her hands on some, even if it was only the loose change from toad’s pockets as he dumped it on the table.

  It was cold, and the jacket Nina had been wearing the day she was kidnapped had long since disappeared. Nina knew she looked odd. She was wearing a short skirt and a small, frayed T-shirt with a towel she had managed to grab and put round her shoulders. On her feet were the standard house issue flip-flops that all the girls wore, and Nina’s feet were freezing. It’s London, Nina thought, no one cares about stuff like that, but still she felt as though there was a huge flashing light above her head, a neon sign saying ‘runaway’. She looked into the faces of some of the passing strangers but they were closed off and unresponsive. There was a woman with a buggy waiting at one of the bus stops Nina passed, and she remembered what Bilbo had always been told.

  ‘If you’re lost, Bilbo, ask a woman with a baby. They’re good at directions,’ the staff used to say. It was supposed to keep him safe.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Nina said to the woman with the buggy. She had intended to ask for directions, but the woman looked scared and she held on to the handles of the buggy tightly, pulling it towards her.

  Nina backed away, holding her hands out in front of her to show that she meant no harm.

  ‘I haven’t got any change,’ the woman said. ‘I don’t carry money, go away.’

  Nina wanted to tell her that she wasn’t begging, just asking for directions, and that she would never, ever hurt the baby in the buggy but she suddenly had a picture of herself, as if she was watching from the top of a tree. Of course the woman was scared. A grubby girl, wearing flip-flops and a towel in February. She had become one of the scary people, the not quite human. I’m untouchable, she thought except for when someone wants to hurt me, to rape me. She almost decided to go back and she probably would have if it hadn’t been for the baby. The baby in the buggy, a little boy of about a year wearing a padded jacket and a tiny pair of smart white trainers. He wasn’t aware that his mother had backed away from Nina, he just wanted to make friends. He smiled at her, before hiding his face in his hands, pulling them away and shouting, peep-bo.

  Nina smiled back and his mother relaxed a little, proud of her son’s ability to charm strangers.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Nina called over her shoulder, waving bye-bye to the baby as she backed off, ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’

  Come on, girl, she whispered under her breath. Keep going, you can make it. The baby had given her a boost, as if he had been able to see the real Nina, and it helped.

  The next busy street stirred an old, forgotten memory for Nina. She remembered another street, full of bustle and people. Nina had been with her mother. It was summer then, or at least spring because there were leaves on the trees. There was sunshine, she could remember that because the sun was in her eyes. Nina must have been very small, small enough to hold her mother’s hand and be dragged along, even though she was complaining. Her mother was in a tearing rush, Nina was sure of that.

  ‘Come on, Nina,’ her mother had said, over and over again. ‘Come on or we’ll be late.’

  I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date, Nina had kept thinking. She wanted to ask her mother where the line came from, and why they were late, but they were going too fast for her to catch her breath properly.

  Nina’s mother had been crying. Nina wasn’t sure whether she had realised that at the time, but looking back she could clearl
y see that her mother was fighting tears. Where were they going? What could have been so important, so upsetting? Nina tried to place the memory in its correct chronological slot in her life, searching for clues like a detective or an archaeologist. The dress. Nina remembered the dress she had been wearing, a pink flowered one. She remembered trying to admire her reflection in shop windows as her mother tugged her along.

  It must have been the day Nina became a looked-after child. She was sure of it. That was the dress she had been wearing when they took her away from her mother and sent her to the first foster family, the ones with the dog. The family where she cried all the time, and yes, it was coming back now, the place where she cut the dress into tiny pieces with a pair of nail scissors. A protest, Nina thought now, but at the time she hadn’t had the words to name it. She simply knew that if she didn’t have her mother, she didn’t care about anything else, not even her beloved dress. Nina stood in the street in her towel and her flip-flops and tried to explain a little to her younger self. I’m sorry I let stuff happen, she thought. I’m not going to any more, ever again.

  Nina stood at a busy crossroads in Lewisham, trying to decide which direction to take. One way led through a forest of high-rise buildings, and the others all seemed to circle the shopping precinct. She was trying to decide when she saw the car. The big black car. The car that might belong to toad man. It had a creepy air to it, as if the engine was growling in a low voice.

  Nina headed down a back street. She didn’t think the driver had seen her, and she wasn’t even sure that it was him, but this was no time to be taking chances. She took the less busy roads now every time there was a choice, and she kept to the sides, close to the houses and shops. At one point she saw a woman with a shopping bag who looked exactly like her mother but, of course, her mother was more than ten years older now and she had never lived in Lewisham. It couldn’t be her. Nina remembered tales she had read of people lost in the desert, how they thought they saw fountains, water, the very thing they hoped for most. The mind could play those kind of tricks, she knew that. It’s not real, she told herself, nice try, brain, but I’m not buying it.