by Jane Bidder
“That’s exactly why I need to go.” Her voice came out as a scream. At the same time, her mobile began to ring.
DANIEL
“What?” she snapped. “Not you,” she added to the girl, whose face registered alarm.
“You’d better come home. Daniel’s voice rang out flatly. “Something’s happened.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Wait,” the pretty blonde woman with the elegant jacket but sad eyes had said. “There’s something I need to do inside but I’ll be back. Promise.”
It had been the last bit that had persuaded Kayleigh to stay where she was. Promise. She’d been so certain that the woman was going to come back.
But of course she didn’t.
People broke their promises, Kayleigh reminded herself, stretching out her legs again on the steps because it hurt less that way. Just like Frankie.
For a moment, she closed her eyes remembering how she had run into his arms only a couple of hours earlier.
“Get off,” he’d snarled, taking her wrists with his hands and pushing her away so she’d fallen on the stone steps and bruised both her ankles as well as getting a real shiner on her cheek.
“You’re fucking mad,” he’d added, spitting on the ground next to her. He didn’t actually spit at her, Kayleigh reminded herself. That was something. But he wasn’t very happy. That was clear.
Then he’d grabbed her by her hoodie so his face was really close to hers, just like it had been the park. But this time, his eyes were glittering with anger. They were green, she told herself, trying to stay calm. Not bluey-green like she’d wondered when he’d been away. Not dancing-green like the first time they met. Just standing-still, scary, staring green.
“Why did you fucking make a statement, bitch?”
Kayleigh struggled to breathe. Maybe, she told herself, Frankie was one of those men who liked to talk dirty. Marlene had told her about that. It might sound like they didn’t care for you but it really meant they did.
“I had to,” she’d tried to say. “The policeman made me.”
The grip round her neck was getting tighter. Kayleigh began to get afraid. Why didn’t someone stop him? It was nearly closing time in the centre so the shoppers were beginning to thin out but there were still some people around who could have done something. Maybe they were scared too.
“Do you know what kind of trouble you’ve got me in now?” His breath was on hers now but not like it had been before in the park. Now it was threatening. Angry.
“I could go Inside for this.” He looked at her with disgust. “And all because you kept begging for it.”
Had she? Kayleigh was aware she’d felt very dreamy after the tablet he had given her but she didn’t recall begging for it. Still, if that’s the way he wanted it, she’d say so in court. Anything to keep him. Anything.
“I’m sorry, Frankie,” she said, circling his neck with her arms, the way she’d seen Marlene do with her boyfriend. “I’ll tell them what you want me to tell them. You do forgive me, don’t you?”
His hands were still tightening round her neck. It had been hard to get the words out. Any minute and she would surely stop breathing. Weakly she began to pummel her hands against his body to show him she was going too far.
“Leave her alone, you silly bastard,” said a girl’s voice.
It was Posy. Why was she sticking up for her? “Get off or I’ll slice your balls off.” Kayleigh gasped at the sight of the thin blade in Posy’s hands. The pressure round her neck stopped. Gasping, she drank in air.
Frankie spat on the ground again. Then he put his face close to Kayleigh’s once more. “You promised, remember,” he hissed. “If you ever want to see me again, you’d better tell them in court that you made up that stuff about the drugs and that you made me fuck you. Got it?”
Then he’d sauntered off, his hips swinging from side to side. All the girls were staring at him which made Kayleigh want him even more. Then they looked at her, enviously, apart from Posy who was carefully slipping her knife down the inside of her jeans.
Kayleigh felt a flash of pride. Frankie might have spoken rather harshly to her but anyone could tell that they had something between them. It gave her one up on the others and made her feel all grown up. “Thanks,” she said to Posy. The girl scowled.
“I didn’t do it for you.” She gestured to the other girls watching. “I did it for us. Don’t you realise? Your Frankie has screwed the lot of us. That girl over there with the purple hair – see her? – did eighteen months for him, pretending it was her coke and not his.”
Kayleigh could understand that. She loved Frankie! They’d had sex together. He was the first man she’d done it with and now she didn’t want anyone else. Maybe, if she was really lucky, she might have his baby inside her right now. Then she could be his baby mother. She’d get her own place too. That’s how Mum had got her first flat years ago.
“I don’t believe you,” she said to Posy. “I don’t believe he slept with you and all the others. And even if he did, he only wants me now.”
Posy stared at her. “Are you fucking mad? You’ve got a crazy mind, know that? I was going to tell you where to find a bed for tonight but now I’m not going to bother. You can bleeding well look out for yourself.”
Kayleigh felt a twinge of apprehension. She’d been worried about where she was going to stay. What if the police found her? Scared she sat down on the steps, stretching out both legs because that seemed to help her bruised ankles. And that’s when the blonde woman with sad eyes had come along. The one from the park with the dog. The one who had given her fifty quid the other day. The one who had promised to come back.
Maybe if she waited long enough, she might just do exactly that.
By nightfall, she was the only one left on the steps. The other girls had melted away into the evening light. Posy had got into a car that had pulled up at the kerb.
“What’s your name?” she’d heard the driver say.
“Tara,” she’d heard her say before stepping in.
Clearly Posy had changed her name again.
It was getting really cold. Kayleigh sat with her back to the wall, just inside the bit where there was a roof above. Every now and then, when the security guard came round, she scuttled into a different part so as not to get caught.
She’d seen the others do that earlier.
Pulling her hoodie tighter around her, Kayleigh picked up a newspaper that someone had dropped on the ground. She tried to wrap it round her shoulders like a shawl but there wasn’t enough of it. So instead, she read it.
BRITISH GAP YEAR BOY FEARED MISSING IN EARTHQUAKE
They’d done earthquakes in geography. They were caused by plates in the earth sliding over each other. Marlene and some of the others had made jokes about dinner plates. One of the girls had been the same one she’d seen in the school, snogging Mr Brown.
If he was going to have an affair with anyone, Kayleigh told herself, it should have been her. Not that it mattered now ’cos she had Frankie. Her old teacher would get over it. Men always did. Look at Ron. Mum said that all you had to do was ignore their moods and then they’d be all right again.
The thought of Mum felt her feel sad. Kayleigh looked down at the paper where a woman was holding her baby.
REUNITED AT LAST said the headline.
Would Mum feel that way about her if she’d got lost for three whole days under rubble? Kayleigh hoped so but if she was honest, she wasn’t sure. Her stomach began to rumble but although it felt empty, she didn’t feel that hungry. Not any more. She was still cold though and the stone step was making her bottom ache. Her ankles were throbbing too. Loud music floated along the street. Maybe it was a club. She’d like to go clubbing, one day. Maybe, after he’d got nice again, Frankie would take her and they could leave their baby at home with a responsible babysitter. She’d be a good mother. She just knew it.
Marlene said the best clubs were in Eye Beetha. It cost a lot of money to get th
ere but you could sleep on the beach. Her eyes began to droop. She was feeling really sleepy right now …
“Kayleigh?”
Dozily looking up, she saw a pair of clear blue eyes looking down.
“It is you, isn’t it, Kayleigh?”
Great. It was that policeman from the park, the one who had wanted to caution her in the hostel. Scrabbling to get to her feet, she fell. Ouch. Her ankles were bloody killing her.
“That’s some bruise you’ve got on your cheek,” said the policeman. He had a kind voice on this time but that was probably a pretence. The policewoman who had come to the flat when they’d found the drugs and money under Callum’s mattress had sounded kind at first.
“How did you get that then?”
“I fell,” said Kayleigh promptly.
“Is that so?” He sat down by her side. Kayleigh hoped the others weren’t going to come past right now. It didn’t do to be seen talking to the scum. People might think you were grassing.
Someone had grassed on her half-brother. That’s why the police had turned up. When Callum found them, he was going to tear them apart. ’Course he didn’t mean it.
“We’ve been looking for you, Kayleigh. There was no need to run off, you know. We want to help you.”
Who was he kidding? According to Marlene, that’s what they always said. They didn’t really want to help you. They wanted to get bonus points for having nicked you.
“You can’t live out here for ever, you know,” said the policeman. His voice was smooth. She didn’t trust him. But on the other hand, he had a point. “Like I said at the hostel, you’re under-age.”
She thought of her birthday which wasn’t far away. “Not for long.”
“But in the meantime, you’ve got to go into care.”
Kayleigh summoned up all her strength to get up. But her ankles were really throbbing now and it was hard to move. They were swollen too. Frankie must have pushed her harder than he’d realised. Not that she’d tell the policeman that. Frankie hadn’t meant it. Not really.
“What are you going to do? Run off again?” the policeman actually looked sad for a minute. Must be a good actor. She’d thought of being an actress once but then Mum had told her not to be so bloody daft. “Start working for one of the other kids and sell stuff. Become a dealer? Come on, Kayleigh, think about it. They all get caught in the end.”
A picture of Callum’s smiling face as they led him to the van, came back to her. It’ll be OK, Kayleigh. Don’t worry.
“What’s that?” he said, more sharply this time.
“I said you can’t make me.”
Before she knew it, he had his hand on hers. “That’s where you’re wrong, I’m afraid. We can make you. Your social worker’s found you a good family to go to. You can stay there while you give evidence in court too.”
His cool blue eyes were locked on hers. “You’re a bright girl, Kayleigh. I can see that. So you’ll understand when I say that they’ve brought the court date forward. We need to stop Frankie before he hurts any more girls.” His eyes travelled from her bruised cheek down to her ankles which had got big and puffy. “You will help us, Kayleigh. Won’t you?”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’d better come back,” Daniel had said on the mobile. “Something’s happened.”
Then he started to say something else but the phone cut dead. Her battery! Alice could have wept with frustration. With everything that had been going on, she’d forgotten to charge it.
“Please,” she said frantically to the young girl in the travel agency in that smart electric blue suit and tiny sparkling silver nose stud. “May I use your phone? It’s an emergency.”
The girl looked at the clock pointedly. “I’m afraid we’re closing now.”
“But my son!” Alice found herself tugging the girl’s electric blue sleeve like a mad woman. “He’s caught up in that earthquake. The one in South America. That’s why I needed the flights.”
She glanced at the glossy brochure the girl had handed her when she’d first come in. The one with a picture of a beach in one corner and a rainforest in the other. It was aimed, clearly, at people who didn’t mind paying a bit extra for luxurious holidays.
The girl glanced with a mixture of disdain and fear at her hand which was still on her arm; clutching it even tighter now from fear and desperation. The irrelevant thought occurred to Alice that she was more able to touch this girl’s hand than her own husband’s.
“Please stop doing that or I will have to call the police.”
Her other hand, she could see was reaching for the phone. Alice broke away, heading for the door. “You’d understand, if you had children,” she called out. Then she spotted a side exit on the other side of the mall, leading directly to the car park. Breaking out into a run, she bumped into a pair of women clutching shopping bags and laughing. A mother and daughter perhaps. Her heart lurched with jealousy as both glared at her.
“Sorry,” she gasped. “I’ve got an emergency.” Yet the word seemed inadequate to describe the terror inside. Maybe Daniel had been about to tell her something terrible before he’d been cut off. Garth had been found alive, perhaps, but had died, calling out her name. “Mum!” he would have said. And she hadn’t been there.
By the time Alice had reached the car and peeled off the yellow and black parking fine sticker, flinging it on the ground (what relevance did it have to a dead son?), her hands were shaking so much that she could barely start the car, let alone reverse it.
Bang. Out of the rear window, she could see she’d hit something. A red car. Garth had done this once; in the same car park, strangely enough, when she’d been giving him ‘driving practice’ before his test. It had struck her at the time that dual control was something which should be fitted on all children from birth.
They’d left a note with their details because that had been the right thing to do, as she’d explained to her son. Now, as she glanced in the rear mirror at the not-insubstantial bump in the red car’s bumper, she didn’t have time to do the same. She needed to get back and find out what had happened. Swerving round the corner, she shot out in front of traffic from the left to get through the orange lights. There was a massive fanfare of horns. “All right, all right,” Alice shouted, waving a hand at the other drivers.
“Always stick to the speed limit,” she had told Garth before he’d passed his test. Yet now, here she was, well over the 40mph sign, ignoring the DRIVE SLOWER neon sign. “Garth,” she moaned, “where are you?”
The radio! Of course! There might be some news. She could hear it now.
British boy found alive after days under rubble in earthquake.
No. That was in her head. Besides, it was usually babies who survived impossible odds; something, she’d read once, to do with their lack of fear and supple bones.
But maybe, just maybe, Garth had been found lost and bedraggled. Wandering, stunned, without anywhere to go. Lost and bedraggled. With a jolt, Alice remembered the pale, auburn-haired girl on the stone steps. “Wait there,” she had said. “I’ll be back. Promise. ”
But she hadn’t. She’d got distracted by Daniel’s call in the travel agency and now the girl would think she’d forgotten her. How awful. But Garth had to come first! He was her son. Heart beating in her throat, she pulled up sharply on the drive, leaving skid marks in the gravel. Not bothering to lock the car or rifle through her bag for door keys, she hammered the heavy black knocker with the lion’s head.
Where the fuck was Daniel? Alice, who rarely swore, began hammering again. At last! “What’s happened?” she demanded.
Daniel had the phone to his ear, motioning to her to be quiet. “I see,” she heard him saying in a tight voice. “Right. Thank you. I’ll tell my wife and then we’ll come back to you.”
He spoke calmly and evenly as though discussing a household matter like insurance or a quote for a new kitchen. Alice yanked on his arm, much as she’d yanked on the girl’s arm in the travel agency. “For
God’s sake, tell me what’s happened!” she yelled.
Mungo, who always hated conflict – and was capable of sensing unspoken distress as much as out in the air arguments – began whining, pawing at her.
“They’ve found Garth.” Her husband’s voice was steady, as if about to tell a child something serious.
“Is he …” she stammered, tugging his sleeve even harder. “Is he …”
Daniel’s eyes were wet. “He’s not dead.”
A huge wave of relief washed through her, followed by doubt. But why wasn’t Daniel ecstatic? Dancing around with joy even though he wasn’t the dancing around type?
“Injured?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Then what?”
Her husband took a deep breath. “It seems that Garth went to the airport just before the earthquake happened.”
“So he’s safe!”
“Not exactly.” Daniel took off his glasses and put them on again. “He was stopped at security for carrying drugs. He says he didn’t know they were there and that someone must have slipped them into his rucksack from behind. But he’s in prison. That was the Foreign Office on the phone. They’ve advised us to find a good lawyer.”
“But he’s alive!” Alice sank on to the floor, weak with relief.
“Alice.” Daniel crouched down next to her, his face close to hers. Mungo, misinterpreting this as an invitation for a joint love-in, began licking both their faces. “I don’t think you understand. Garth was carrying a serious quantity of heroin.” He faltered. “Out there, the penalty can be death.”
How could he have been so stupid? That’s what Alice had expected her husband to say. Wasn’t that what she’d been thinking to herself? Hadn’t she told Garth, over and over again, not to carry anything for anyone – and not to have your rucksack on your back at airports where someone behind you in the queue could slip something in and then retrieve it at the other end.
She’d read a piece about that in one of her women’s magazines, written by a mother warning others, and had dutifully reported it to Garth. But like all her other advice (keep emergency money separate so you have something left if someone takes the first lot), it had been met with a wave of the hands and a “Stop fussing, Mum”.
