Authors: Helen Black
Then the door burst open and Jack’s face went white as he took in the scene. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Get a nurse,’ Harry told him. ‘We need emergency sedative.’
Jack was so shocked he didn’t move.
‘Now,’ Harry ordered and Jack retreated.
Lilly held on with all the strength she could muster until the medical team arrived and plunged a syringe into Chloe’s thigh.
Chapter Five
Mr George Talbot | |
HMP Belmarsh | |
Prisoner number 50321/V | 3 September 2004 |
Dear Mr Talbot,
Expiry of Public Funding Certificate
Further to your recent telephone calls to this office, it is with regret that I must inform you that Miss April Cash will not be able to make any further visits with you at HMP Belmarsh.
As has been explained to you, both by your barrister, Mr Wade, and our Miss Cash, your conviction at Luton Crown Court on 11 June is unappealable. An appeal against conviction can only be pursued where there was an error made during the trial or where new evidence has been brought to light. Neither of which applies to your case.
Similarly, you have been advised that there is no possibility of an appeal against the sentence passed down by the court on 26 July. Given the serious nature of the offences involved, a term of twelve years is highly reasonable, particularly given the ages of the victims and the fact that you did not plead guilty which, as Judge Wilkes pointed out at some length, meant the witnesses were all put through an ‘almost unbearable’ ordeal. He stated that your actions have impacted upon everyone who had to read or hear about these crimes, including the jurors and legal teams.
I know that both Mr Wade and Miss Cash have advised you that you were fortunate to escape a life sentence and I completely agree.
Whilst I understand that you find yourself in a position you would not wish to be in, I recommend that you attempt to come to terms with the situation and the first step is to accept that your court case is now over. Indeed, the public funding certificate which covered the costs of your legal help has now expired. Therefore, I must make it plain that this firm is no longer representing you. I have instructed Miss Cash to make no further visits and to refuse all telephone calls from you. If you write to Miss Cash again, the letters will be returned to you unopened.
I trust that the position of this firm is clear to you.
Yours sincerely
Christopher Walters
Senior Partner at Walters, Radison and Daley
Lilly hurried through the dark to the Range Rover. The windows were steamed up but Lilly could make out David leaning back in his seat, eyes closed, hands behind his head, his lips moving as he sang along to whatever he was listening to. Lilly would bet Janis Joplin.
She tapped on the glass and he opened his eyes, smiled at her and bent forward to release the central locking. Lilly jumped in out of the cold. She’d been right about Janis.
‘Thanks for waiting.’ She held her hands over the heater.
‘No worries.’ He tapped the clock on the dashboard. ‘We’d better shoot over to the nursery to collect Alice.’
Lilly checked the time. Five to six. Even if David barrelled it, she’d be late. Again.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘The weather will catch out lots of the parents.’
She wasn’t sure he was right, but was grateful all the same.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked and indicated to pull out into the empty road.
Lilly fingered the place on her chest where Chloe’s fist had caught her. She’d have a hell of a bruise tomorrow.
‘The police found a knife in a patient’s room. A girl called Chloe.’
‘Bloody hell. How on earth did she get hold of a knife in somewhere like that?’
Lilly shrugged. ‘Lord only knows. Jack thinks she killed Lydia.’
‘Jack?’
‘He was at the meeting with Lydia’s parents,’ she said. ‘I expect this will become his case now.’
David turned his head towards her. ‘Tell me you’re not involved.’
‘I’m not.’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I’m not,’ she told him. ‘I just happened to be there when they found the knife. Jesus Christ, David, I didn’t plan this.’
He went back to watching the road. ‘Did Jack arrest her?’
‘No,’ said Lilly. ‘She had some sort of fit.’
‘Very convenient.’
Lilly shook her head. ‘No way. This was for real, believe me, like something out of
The Exorcist
. She had to be sedated.’
‘So what happens next?’
‘Harry will sort out a new solicitor in the morning.’
‘Harry?’
‘The girl’s shrink. He runs the unit.’
‘That’s an end to it then.’ David sounded pleased but there was a jumpy feeling in Lilly’s stomach.
She looked out of the side window, watching the rooftops all blanketed in snow, imagining the families inside, cosy and content. Tomorrow they might build snowmen or take their kids sledging. Lilly on the other hand would have to deal with the letter. Which meant that this wasn’t the end. It meant this was only the beginning.
Gem thinks she’s doing a good job. All the beds and bins are clean and she’s done all the washing-up in the kitchen sink.
‘It always go quiet now,’ Feyza says. ‘It pick up again after seven.’
‘Even in the snow?’ Gem asks.
Feyza laughs. ‘It take more than bad weather to keep punters away.’
Gem imagines them trudging their way through the snowdrifts, just so they can get their end away. And pay for it.
‘Shall I make the girls a cuppa?’ she asks.
‘Sure,’ Feyza says, a funny look on her face.
Gem opens the cupboard and pulls out five mugs. One each for Amber, Loretta, Sapphire and Misty. And one for Feyza. Gem don’t much like tea. She prefers Coke and Fanta and that.
Feyza must have told them ’cos they soon come out of their rooms for their tea, leaning against the counter in their dressing gowns.
‘Where’s Misty?’ Gem asks.
Amber makes a sound like ‘pffft’ and stretches her legs out. There’s a tattoo of a snake all the way from her ankle to her knee, winding round and round her calf. Its forked tongue points upwards like an arrow leading the way for the punters.
‘She’s in a mood, innit,’ says Amber. ‘Again.’
‘Why?’ Gem asks.
‘Who knows, baby.’ Amber winks. ‘Maybe she’s got PMT.’
The other girls laugh.
‘Shall I take it to her?’ Gem picks up the mug of tea. ‘It’s getting cold.’
‘Why not?’ Feyza says. ‘Maybe she cheer up.’
Gem wanders off to Misty’s room and taps on the door gently.
‘What?’ Misty shouts from inside.
Gem opens the door, the drink held out in front of her like a peace offering.
‘What do you want?’ says Misty from the chair at her dressing table.
‘I brought you a cup of tea,’ Gem replies.
Misty sighs and turns back to the mirror. Gem don’t know if that means she wants it or not. But it seems a shame to waste it, so she scuttles over and puts it next to Misty with a smile.
Misty looks at her in disgust. ‘What have you got to be so fucking happy about?’
Gem shrugs. She’s just happy to be here, earning money. Feyza said she’d pay five pounds an hour so Gem should have enough for nappies, food and fags at the end of today.
‘Don’t be so horrible,’ says Feyza from the doorway.
‘I didn’t hear you knock,’ says Misty.
Feyza steps inside and closes the door behind her, arms folded over her chest. ‘We need a chat, yes?’
Misty sniffs, picks up a bottle of cleanser and squeezes a big blob onto some cotton wool. She’s forever taking off all her makeup and then redoing it all over again.
‘Wipe frown from face too, you understand me?’ says Feyza.
Misty rolls her eyes and aims the used cotton wool at the bin. She misses and it lands with a plop on the floor. Gem bends forward and collects it up, careful not to touch the orange stain of Misty’s foundation.
‘Customers want to see happy girls,’ says Feyza. ‘Not miserable bitches.’
‘Customers don’t care,’ says Misty.
Feyza says, ‘Don’t push me.’
‘Why?’ says Misty. ‘What’re you going to do?’
‘I put you out of here and you take your chances with all the rest.’ Feyza jabs her thumb over her shoulder. ‘On street.’
Misty slams down the bottle of cleanser and refuses to even look at Feyza.
‘You know you on to good thing here,’ says Feyza. ‘Don’t fuck up.’ Then she leaves, slamming the door behind her.
‘Fucking Turkish slag,’ says Misty. ‘On to a good thing? I make her more money than all the rest of the girls in here put together.’
Gem wonders if that can be true. Misty is busier than the other girls, but she’d have to be four times busier than them, wouldn’t she? For every one customer they did, she’d need to do four. And though Misty is good at getting them in and out, even she ain’t that quick.
‘I could go to any of the Russians and they’d beg me to work for them, I’m telling you,’ says Misty. ‘Fucking beg me.’
She reaches for her fags and lights one. Gem notices that her hand is shaking.
‘What are you staring at?’ Misty shouts at her. ‘Stop fucking staring at me.’
‘Sorry,’ Gem mumbles and gets out of the room before Misty really loses the plot.
Lilly woke in a better mood than the one that had dogged her at bedtime. It had snowed again and she made the decision then and there that she wouldn’t wake Sam or Alice. They were having the day off and would spend it having snowball fights, interrupted only by disgustingly huge cups of hot chocolate. With whipped cream. And marshmallows.
As she plodded past the sofa, David stirred, his face buried in the pillow she had tossed to him the night before. He had, after all, played chauffeur all day.
‘Tea?’ she asked.
‘If you’re making,’ he said.
She didn’t bother asking if he wanted toast and shoved in another slice alongside her own. While she waited for them to pop she looked out of the kitchen window. Dawn was sneaking up on the fields beyond her garden, inching cautiously across the horizon.
‘I always loved this view,’ said David.
Lilly almost snorted tea through her nose. ‘You did not. You said it reminded you of the dark side of the moon.’
He laughed and as the toast popped caught both slices in mid-air.
‘You are such a lawyer,’ he said. ‘You hang on every word as if it were testimony at the Old Bailey.’
‘I do not.’ Lilly reached for butter and jam. ‘I just hate bullshit.’
He slid two plates across the work surface and they sat down to eat in companionable silence. Lilly mused over what she would say to Jack about Chloe’s letter. She decided to be brisk and businesslike. If she stuck to the facts, it was up to Jack to draw his own conclusions. Torturing herself about ignoring the letter was helping no one, least of all Chloe. Anyway, by the look of her yesterday it was unlikely a case would ever come to court. She was surely insane and incapable of facing trial. A lifetime in mental institutions beckoned, and might that not be for the best?
The phone rang and Lilly snatched it up so it wouldn’t wake the kids. ‘Lilly Valentine,’ she said.
The person at the other end didn’t speak. All Lilly could hear were deep rasping breaths. Jesus, dirty calls at this time!
‘Who is this?’ she demanded.
Still the caller didn’t speak.
‘Listen to me, sunshine,’ she said. ‘I’m tracing this call, so I’d get lost now if I were you.’
Only the rattling sound of breathing responded and she was about to slam down the receiver when the noise changed momentarily. It caught. Like a small sob.
‘For God’s sake, what do you want?’ Lilly asked.
‘I need …’The caller’s voice choked into more crying. ‘I need to speak to you.’
‘You are speaking to me,’ said Lilly. ‘Why don’t you start by telling me your name?’
There was a silence punctuated by a couple of sniffs.
‘It’s me,’ said the caller. ‘It’s Chloe.’
Lilly’s hand flew to her breastbone and the spot where Chloe had hit her. She glanced down her pyjama top but the bruising was yet to come out. Nevertheless, it hurt. Like a tiny jet of viciousness under her skin.
‘How did you get this number, Chloe?’
‘What?’
‘You’re calling me at home,’ said Lilly. ‘I’m wondering where you got the number.’