Strangers (16 page)

‘Come on, love, we’re going home;’ Lucy said, taking the girl by the ankles and lugging her forward.

Re-energised by Lucy’s arrival, Tammy scrabbled the rest of the way on her bottom and ankles, and jumped outside, audibly roaring under the duct tape. She needed no assistance as she pulled and yanked at the clothesline, finally releasing her own hands. When she tore off the gag, she coughed and choked, a stream of rancid vomit spilling out. It was anyone’s guess how long it had been percolating in the back of her throat.

‘You soppy little bastards!’ Lucy told the kid in the van. He still pressed himself into the wooden partition, eyes wide with terror. ‘You picked the wrong night to come out and play, didn’t you? I ever see you trying to abduct girls around here again … I’ll follow you home afterwards and slit your throat while you’re in bed! And your bloody mates! You getting me … you little toad, you fucking little shithouse!
I SAID DO YOU GET ME?
’

He nodded and whimpered, a bubble of green snot appearing at the end of his nose.

Lucy took Tammy by the elbow and steered her back towards the Beetle. The girl yammered incoherently, sobbing and trying to speak at the same time.

‘It’s alright,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s over now.’

They reached the front offside of their ride, where the tall, thin blond was still lying scrunched into a foetal ball. It struck Lucy that she might have inflicted more damage than she’d intended with that kick. But the devil if she cared now. Tammy clearly felt the same, because she kicked him too, savagely – in the back and the head, before stepping around to the front and landing another couple in his face, to which he could do no more than groan aloud, eyes screwing shut as his head flirted backwards and sideways.

‘Enough!’ Lucy said, grabbing her elbow again, hastening her to the front passenger seat and pushing her inside. If nothing else, Lucy wanted to get them away from here now, before any police units arrived; that would save a shedload of awkward explanations. She slammed the door closed, rounded back to the driving seat and leaned down one more time to the injured blond.

‘You and your mates are lucky you’re still alive,’ she hissed. ‘But don’t be reassured by that. I’ve clocked your registration mark. That means every person I know will be looking out for it. So you’d better stay at home from now on, sonny. Or move cities, or change your life and become a fucking monk. Because I’ll tell you now, you’re not going to be safe doing anything else.’

Chapter 11

‘Listen, it’s no biggie,’ Tammy said, sniffling over her coffee. ‘We get raped from time to time. There’s nothing we can do about it. It goes with the territory.’

Lucy regarded her askance from the other side of the café table. Even given the mess Tammy was in – her hair a frenzy, her eyes red and bleary, cheeks streaked with clotted mascara – this was an astounding comment.

‘How can you talk like that?’ Lucy finally asked.

‘You’re in the lifestyle too,’ Tammy said defensively. ‘You telling me you’d never let them take it for free if they were trying to muscle you?’

‘I think that was a bit more than people muscling you, love. God knows what those three losers had in mind. I’m not sure it would’ve stopped at rape.’

‘It would have.’ Tammy wiped her nose with a tissue. Despite the fact she was still sniffling, her usual bravado was already returning. ‘They were just kids.’

‘So how come you’re still crying?’

Tammy shrugged. ‘Had a scare, but that’s all.’

Yet more bravado
, Lucy realised.

‘But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful,’ Tammy added hastily. ‘I’m more grateful than I can say. I don’t know any other girl who’d do what you did tonight. I owe you one big time.’

That was one thing Lucy could at least relax about. It had crossed her mind that merely helping Tammy the way she had might have threatened her cover, but the girl seemed happy to accept that it had simply been a generous act from a fellow lost soul.

‘I couldn’t let it happen.’ Lucy sipped her own coffee. ‘You’ve been friendly to me since I showed up here. And while I could do something, I thought I should. I’m a bit handy.’

‘Yeah, I saw …’ Tammy cackled. ‘Where did you learn all that stuff?’

‘Saltbridge.’

‘What … over in Crowley?’

Lucy nodded warily. She hoped she wasn’t saying too much. But her elaborate and carefully memorised cover-story had needed to accommodate her Crowley accent, which in the ears of a foreigner might only be slightly different to that of an inner-Mancunian, but to a native of the north-west would easily be detectable, and telling easily detectable lies was never a good way to start when you were going undercover.

‘Rough area, Saltbridge?’ Tammy asked.

‘Roughish,’ Lucy said. ‘How about you?’

‘Harpurhey, originally.’

‘Bloody hell,
you
ought to have developed some street-smarts too.’

‘I
have
.’ Tammy straightened in her seat as though attempting to puff herself up, which was pretty laughable given her bedraggled state. ‘Hey … I’m alright, me. Just took my eye off the ball for a sec.’ She glanced furtively around, and seeing that the counter staff’s attention was elsewhere, lowered her cup beneath the table, at which point there was a noticeable
glug-glug-glug
as she flavoured her coffee with vodka.

‘Your problem is you’ve got too much of a taste for that stuff,’ Lucy commented. ‘Half the time you can’t see what’s going on under your nose.’

‘Whatever gets us through the night, isn’t it? Anyway, just helping me out doesn’t give you a right to lecture me. You’re not my mum.’

‘You sure you’re alright?’

‘I’m fine.’ Tammy rubbed at the welts where the clothesline had bitten into her wrists. ‘Where’d you get the car, anyway?’

‘Oh, that.’ Lucy glanced through the cafeteria window to where the Beetle was parked next to a hedge. She hadn’t driven Tammy back to the lorry park for the simple reason that Des would still be there, probably hopping from foot to foot by now, which would have been something of a give-away. ‘I nicked it.’

‘You nicked it?’ Tammy gawked at her. ‘You fucking serious?’

‘Took the first wheels I could find, didn’t I?’

‘And you just left it out front like that?’

That might have been a mistake, Lucy now realised. The car was next to a hedge, but close to the slip road. It could easily be clocked by passing traffic, especially if that traffic happened to be police officers looking for a recently stolen motor. And okay, it wasn’t exactly stolen, but this was the lie she was trying to sell.

‘Perhaps we’d better get going,’ she said, standing up.

Tammy looked hesitant. ‘If we get caught in a stolen car, Digby’ll be all over me with that belt of his. I’ll look like raw meat when he’s finished.’

‘You let
him
push you around too much as well.’

‘It’s easy for you to say that. You being so … what’s the word you used, “handy”?’

Lucy went to the counter to pay. When she’d finished, Tammy was done with her coffee/vodka, and they went outside together.

‘I know a chop shop where you could drop this off,’ Tammy said as they climbed into the Beetle. ‘But I doubt they’d touch it. Right bloody dustbin.’

Lucy said nothing as she slid behind the wheel. Now that her passenger was alert to the fact they were in a hot car, and looking it over more carefully, she hoped there was nothing lying in plain view that might indicate its owner was a policeman. Not that it would be easy to spot anything specifically in Des’s scruffy interior, especially when the doors were closed and the lights off.

‘You ever thought of getting out of it?’ Lucy asked, as she drove back to the East Lancs.

‘What … this life?’ Tammy sounded amused. ‘And waste the gifts God’s given me?’

‘I don’t think he intended you to use them this way.’

‘You’re doing the same thing.’

‘Yeah. Wish I wasn’t.’

‘Well … how do you think I feel? I mean deep down?’ Tammy sniffled again.

Lucy glanced sideways and saw fresh tears sparkling in the girl’s lashes. As before, the ‘tough chick’ routine had proved wafer-thin, especially now the adrenaline was flagging and a fuller understanding of what had nearly happened was dawning on her.

‘Sodding bastards,’ she said, swallowing hard.

‘If it’s any consolation, they won’t try it again.’

‘I only hope they do. With any luck, they’ll run into Lotta.’

‘Who?’

Tammy remained tearful, but gave a crooked grin. ‘They won’t know what’s hit ’em then.’

‘Who’s Lotta?’ Lucy asked.

‘Top beauty, she is … hottest ticket in town. But you wouldn’t mess with her.’

‘Hardcase?’

‘Put it this way, Keira, love … she’d make
you
look like a nursery teacher.’

‘Good to know girls can look after themselves.’

‘It’s more than looking after herself. Lotta once told me that if she ever got the chance, she’d collect the dicks and ball sacks of every bastard who ever stuck it to her and put them on shields on the wall in her flat.’

Lucy nearly lost control of the car. They were back on the East Lancs by now, and at ten o’clock on a Friday night it was almost bare of traffic, but she still skidded from one lane to the next.’

‘What’s up?’ Tammy asked, grabbing the dashboard with fright.

‘Nothing … oil slick on the road. We’re fine, but what’s that you just said … your mate collects dicks and ball sacks?’

‘Nah.’ Tammy waved it away. ‘Lotta was just talking. When you get to know her, she’s lovely. You wouldn’t want to cross her though. Big strapping lass, built like one of them wrestling babes. And just as sexy.’

‘And Lotta works the streets?’

‘You’re joking, aren’t you? Way too classy for that. Back in the day, I was …’ She halted mid-flow, as if unsure whether or not to continue. Was it possible there was something that even the brash, indecorous Tammy could be embarrassed about? ‘Well … there’s this club in Cheetham Hill. Don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it. SugaBabes?’

Lucy shrugged. ‘When I say I’m new to the game, I mean it.’

‘It’s the crème de la crème. Dead posh inside, dead well paid. Only the best-looking girls work there, but Lotta’s the star attraction. I’m telling you, Keira, it’s amazing. The only punters who come in are loaded. You don’t get toe-rags staggering in at the end of piss-ups.’

‘And you used to work there?’ Lucy tried not to sound too sceptical that an alcoholic street-girl like Tammy could find work in such a cultured establishment.

‘Yeaaaah,’ Tammy said, again defensive. ‘When I started out.’ She took another swig of vodka. ‘Suppose you’re wondering how I finished up out here?’

‘I’m not actually,’ Lucy replied. ‘But if this is as classy a place as you say, I’m wondering what the chances are of me getting a gig there?’

Tammy pondered this. ‘Well, you look good enough. You’re clean … I
presume
you’re clean?’

‘Yeah, course.’

‘Because they’ll give you a raft of medical checks.’

‘I’m clean.’

‘There’ll probably be a try-out session.’

Lucy glanced sidelong at her. ‘Try-out session?’

‘Course. Someone’ll try you out first. See if you’re any good. That always happens.’

‘I see …’

‘But I wouldn’t bother if I were you.’

‘No?’

‘You never heard of the Twisted Sisters? Jayne and Suzy McIvar?’

Lucy considered. Those names
did
ring a bell, though she couldn’t quite place them. In any case, she didn’t want to let on that she had any kind of inside knowledge. She shook her head.

‘They run the place,’ Tammy explained. ‘And trust me, if you don’t want to get on the wrong side of Lotta, you really don’t want to get on the wrong side of those two.’

‘Lotta still works there then?’

‘Far as I know.’ Tammy swilled more vodka. ‘Nothing higher you can aim for round here if you’re intent on staying in. Good dosh, no skanks putting their hands all over you, stinking of Kentucky Fried, grease and engine oil under their fucking fingernails …’

When she put it like that, Lucy had to admit – a berth at SugaBabes, try-out session or not, almost sounded desirable.

*

‘And what on Earth are
you
supposed to be?’ Cora Clayburn wondered.

Lucy spun around from the kettle, shocked. It wasn’t yet five o’clock in the morning. The very last thing she’d expected was that her mother would already be awake. Cora stood in the kitchen doorway in a house-robe and slippers. Her hair was tousled, and she was sallow-cheeked, but clearly, like mothers the world over when their offspring are out and about in the early hours, she hadn’t been deeply asleep. Most likely, the sound of her daughter returning home unexpectedly early had disturbed her.

That said, she looked wide awake now. In fact, she was goggle-eyed as she advanced into the kitchen. And with more than a little reason, given that Lucy was standing making herself a brew while wearing her camisole, hot pants and thigh-boots.

‘What are you doing up?’ Lucy asked.

‘I asked first.’ Cora sat unsteadily at the kitchen table, eyes fixed on her daughter’s attire as if it was the worst thing she’d ever seen.

‘I guess you already know the answer to that,’ Lucy said, finishing off the tea. She’d deliberately withheld from her mother the actual details of her new role, to avoid scaring her. But Cora wasn’t dim.

‘You’re not on one of these awful undercover operations … when you go out all night dressed as a prostitute?’

‘It’s nothing to worry about. We’re not actually getting picked up.’

Cora didn’t look in any way reassured. ‘That’s hardly the point! What if someone we know spots you?’

‘It’s not happening around here.’

‘So let me get this straight … they’ve actually got you standing on street-corners to try and catch this maniac?’

‘Mum …’ Lucy bustled across the room and kissed her on the forehead. ‘I understand your concern, but the murderer’s not looking for female victims. We’re genuinely not in danger.’

‘Okay, so what happened to your hand?’