Saturday, 19 September
Hermione Barrows is drawn again to the videotape. She has watched it three times already this morning but its pull is magnetic. She cannot quite believe what she has seen. She is shaken to her core.
She hears her husband enter the room but doesn’t turn to him. She is transfixed by what she sees on the screen.
‘What are you watching?’ he asks, a tremor in his voice.
‘I think you can see for yourself.’
She presses the mute button on the remote control and all is silent, the images somehow more potent.
She drags her eyes from the picture and forces herself to look at her husband. She can feel tears pricking her eyes.
‘Hermione,’ he says, but lets the sentence fall away.
The quiet between them roars like a river.
‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ he says at last, without conviction.
Hermione turns back to the television, the tears running freely. It is every bit as bad as it looks.
For there she is, in close-up, each contorted expression magnified, every imperfection in her skin on display.
Hermione points at her own flawed face filling the screen, in stark comparison to the tight creamy skin of the woman thrusting a microphone in her face, and howls as if wounded.
‘I am old.’
Lilly arrived at Parkgate for the third time in three days but the guards remained cold and unhelpful. Only the youngest spoke to her, and that was to ask after Sheba.
She handed over her identification and was escorted to a table in the Friends and Family Centre.
Candy Grigson ambled into the room with all the swagger of a serious offender. Prison food had made no impact on her bulk, which Lilly estimated to be well over fourteen stone. Nor had it helped her teeth, which covered most of the hues between brown, grey and black.
Candy parked her impressive backside opposite Lilly. ‘Got any fags?’
Lilly pushed across a packet of Benson and Hedges.
Candy ripped open the packet, lit up and began to bark like a seal. She hawked up a mouthful of phlegm and swallowed it down. ‘Get us a cuppa.’
Lilly sighed and reminded herself that this woman could still be the victim they were looking for.
Candy drained her cup, burped warm tea breath into Lilly’s face and lit another cigarette with the end of her last one. ‘Angie tells me you’re all right.’
‘That was good of her, and it’s very good of you to agree to see me. I realise you must be very busy,’ said Lilly.
Candy nodded as if her days were a nonstop schedule of activities and commitments. ‘I told Angie if it were important I’d make the time.’
Lilly watched the smoke stream out of Candy’s nostrils and wondered if she had ever seen such an unattractive woman. ‘I’ll try to keep this as short as possible.’
Candy shrugged magnanimously. ‘I’m here now.’
‘Angie told me you’d been hurt by one of your clients,’ said Lilly. ‘I’m sure it’s very difficult to talk about.’
‘He carved me up good and proper,’ said Candy.
‘What happened?’
Candy sat back in her chair. ‘He were a right bastard,’ she said, gearing up to tell her story. ‘Used to come to the flat every couple of weeks. I told Jon I didn’t like him.’
‘Jon?’ asked Lilly.
‘My fella. I said he were weird and we should just get rid, but Jon wouldn’t have it.’ She took another long drag. ‘He said we needed the regulars for cash flow and that.’
Lilly nodded as if the half-baked economics of a pimp made perfect sense. Now was not the time to challenge Candy’s life choices.
‘He said he’d keep a close eye on that bastard, make sure it didn’t get out of hand.’
‘Make sure what didn’t get out of hand?’ asked Lilly.
Candy stubbed out the remains of her cigarette and passed the packet from one hand to the other. ‘The stuff he liked. The rough stuff, you know.’
Lilly pretended to have no clue, she needed Candy to be more specific. ‘Sex games, you mean?’
Candy laughed but there was little mirth in her voice. ‘It weren’t no bloody game with him. I told Jon he were a wrong-un.’
‘In what way?’
‘Always the same every time. He wanted me to lie still, like I were asleep or something, then he’d do stuff to me,’ said Candy.
Lilly swallowed her impatience. ‘What stuff?’
Candy lit another cigarette without taking her eyes off Lilly. She smirked, clearly mistaking Lilly’s excitement for voyeurism. ‘Not what you think. No sex at all. He didn’t even want a hand job. That’s why I didn’t want to do him – I mean, it’s not as if I like shagging ’em but at least you know where you are.’
‘So what did he do?’
Lilly knew she was pushing too hard, making Candy suspicious, but this sounded like their man.
‘Are you getting off on this or what?’ said Candy.
Lilly opened her mouth to protest, but Candy just shrugged as if she couldn’t care less.
‘It started off all right. He just prodded and poked me a bit. Then he started running things over me, a pen or some keys, and he started pressing harder, leaving marks. Jon says, “He ain’t hurting you so what you moaning about?” But it weren’t what he did so much as what he said.’
‘Like what?’ asked Lilly.
‘Weird stuff. I mean, I’m used to the dirty talk, ain’t I? The “ooh, baby, ahh, baby”, well, it’s just part of the job.’
Candy scratched her massive thighs and Lilly tried not to imagine her in the throes of her work.
‘I don’t even worry about the nasty stuff as long as it’s just verbals,’ Candy continued. ‘They can call me a bitch and a slut if they’re paying. I mean, I ain’t too fond of them neither and if it speeds ’em up it’s all right by me.’
‘But this went further,’ said Lilly.
Candy nodded. ‘He said I were vile, that the sight of me made him sick. I said, “You don’t have to keep coming here, mate, there’s plenty of other girls working the Cross,” but he just laughed. He said we were all the same. That we were all –’ Candy paused, trying to remember his exact words. ‘He said we were all damaged goods.’
‘Did you suspect he was dangerous?’ asked Lilly.
‘Too right I did. I kept telling Jon but he said it were only chat, which were true, but I still had a bad feeling about him,’ said Candy.
Lilly wondered how she could steer the conversation to the night Candy was stabbed without confirming Candy’s view that she was some sort of snuff merchant. She needn’t have worried, Candy was in full flow, smoke pouring from every orifice.
‘One night he comes over and asks for extra time, says he’ll pay double. I wasn’t happy but Jon had already taken the money so I start to get undressed – and bang.’ Candy smacked her right fist into her left palm. ‘He hit me hard. I mean, I can look after myself but he caught me by surprise from behind. I tried to shout but he put something over my mouth, like this.’
Candy yanked her head back by a handful of hair and placed her other hand over her mouth. Though just a re-enactment, Candy’s eyes were wide with terror and Lilly felt her own chest tighten.
‘He had a piece of cloth in his hand and I could smell the chemicals on it. It made me dizzy and I fell over. I knew what he were going to do but I couldn’t move.’
Lilly’s chest had started to burn and she realised she was holding her breath. When she finally exhaled, Candy continued.
‘He put me on the bed face down and I can’t even speak let alone scream. I could hear Jon outside. He were arguing with some mate about some match on the phone so I knew he weren’t coming in any time soon. You know how men get when they’re on one about footie?’
Lilly nodded, but in truth David had never shown any passion for sport.
‘All I could do was lie there and let it happen.’
‘You were still conscious?’ asked Lilly, her voice strangled by fear.
Candy nodded. Some of her bravado had deserted her and her hand shook as she stubbed out the dog-end.
‘It were weird, like being in a coma or something. I could hear everything as if it were all a long way away but I couldn’t even lift my head. Then I felt him over me, sat like normal with his legs on either side of me, and I saw a glint of something out of the corner of my eye. I told myself it were a key but I knew it weren’t.’
Lilly felt bile fill her throat, its acid sting rising towards her mouth. She forced herself to swallow and looked into Candy’s eyes, urging her to continue.
‘When he started to cut me I heard it more than felt it, like paper tearing. And I could smell blood, like iron filings, but it didn’t really hurt.’
For the first time Candy looked away, as if it were she that should feel ashamed.
‘He were so calm. I closed my eyes, thinking that at least he weren’t going to kill me. I counted in my head so I’d know when he’d be finished. That’s how I know he left fifteen minutes early, so as he’d be gone before Jon got off the phone, I suppose. I expect you want to see what he did.’
Lilly felt the prick of colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream …’
Before Lilly could finish Candy unhooked her overalls and lifted her prison sweatshirt to reveal several rolls of white flesh. She swivelled around in her chair to show the exposed skin of her back and Lilly gasped. The scars that crisscrossed under the straps of Candy’s bra were too numerous to count. They radiated from the centre like the close-up of a snowflake, beautiful yet terrible.
Candy rearranged her clothes and turned back to Lilly. She jerked her head over her shoulder. ‘I’m just glad he only had time to do my back. You wouldn’t want that mess on your face, would you?’
Lilly was grateful when the guard informed her that visiting was finished. She had no idea what to say to Candy. Every response would have been inadequate. As Candy pocketed the remaining cigarettes and scraped back her chair, Lilly touched her arm.
‘Did you go to the police?’
Candy snorted in disgust. ‘Didn’t have a choice. The hospital rang ’em when they were stitching me up but it were a waste of time. I had no idea who he were and they had no intention of finding out.’
Lilly was incredulous. ‘But you were so badly injured.’
Candy laughed, her bravado returned. ‘I’m just a tart, love.’
‘So he’s still out there,’ said Lilly.
Candy shrugged, turned away and swaggered back to her cell.
The buttons on her silk shirt are exquisite, each one a tiny cluster of seed pearls. Barely noticeable, perhaps, worn under a suit jacket, but to Hermione detail is everything. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the buttons rather than the shaking of her hands as she dresses herself.
She had tried not to think about the video and had nearly succeeded until she redirected her cab from Westminster to Harley Street. It can’t be just the passage of time that has ravaged her face, she’s not that old. She must be ill. If she thinks about it she hasn’t been herself for months, her temperature soaring, especially at night.
‘So,’ says Dr Emmanuel when Hermione emerges from behind the curtain. ‘When did you last have a period?’
She pretends to give the matter some thought. ‘Three, maybe four months ago.’
The doctor nods and leans back in his chair. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong and you’re certainly not pregnant.’
Hermione gives a tinny laugh. ‘Certainly not.’
‘So this is more likely to be the start of the menopause.’
The room tilts violently and Hermione grabs the back of the chair. ‘Not a virus?’
He shakes his head and smiles. ‘A little early, but there we are.’
Hermione feels her way into the chair as if blinded. Her breathing comes very fast.
The doctor’s smile slips a fraction. ‘Are you all right, Mrs Barrows?’
She must pull herself together. ‘Yes, of course.’ Her tone is breezy. ‘It’s the heat.’
He nods again. At £250 per visit, Dr Emmanuel can do discretion.
‘We can manage any symptoms so that your career is not affected in any way.’
‘My career’, Hermione has found her ballast, ‘is what is important here.’
‘Absolutely,’ he says, and nods once more.
* * *
Sam was spending the day with his dad. Weeks ago David had suggested he stay overnight too, that they might go to the cinema or to Pizza Express, but when it came to it Cara had tickets for the ballet.
‘A last treat before she gets too big,’ said David.
Whatever. Lilly was too knackered to argue and would make it up to Sam with home-made beef burgers and a DVD.
With a few free hours left, Lilly called Sheba and they agreed to meet in Lancasters. She drove too fast but she was desperate to share Candy’s story. She parked outside the bar and slammed the car door behind her.
‘You can’t leave it like that,’ said an elderly man in a navy blazer.
Lilly followed his eye-line and saw that she had not only mounted the kerb, she was taking up most of the pavement.
The man tutted. ‘A wheelchair will never get through.’
Lilly had an urge to tell him to get lost and mind his own, but he had a point, however pompously made.
‘And I dread to think how a guide dog would manage,’ he said.
Lilly got back in. ‘I didn’t know we were expecting the Para-Olympics.’
‘Young lady, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.’
Lilly pretended not to hear. ‘I’d move back if I were you, I’m a terrible driver.’
She gunned the engine, shot towards him and sent him scuttling away.
The first thing she saw when she parked again was Jez’s arched eyebrows. Evidently he’d seen the whole incident.
‘Terrorising OAPs. I think someone needs a drink.’
Lilly had been expecting only Sheba but wasn’t surprised to see her brother as well. The pair seemed incredibly close and Lilly could only hope that Jez hadn’t divulged her slatternly behaviour to Sheba. She consoled herself that a drunken fumble with a scruffy single mother wasn’t likely to be something he’d brag about.
Inside the bar, Jez ordered a bottle of wine and sat with Sheba, who was already halfway through what looked like a stiff gin and tonic and fending off offers of a second from the man at the next table.
‘So tell us,’ said Jez, filling everyone’s glass, ‘do we have our first victim?’
Lilly took a mouthful of wine. Off her feet, the adrenalin of earlier was seeping away and she felt drained.
‘I’ll type up a full note of what she said, but basically she was drugged and mutilated while semiconscious.’
‘Bingo,’ said Jez.
Sheba placed an olive finger on his arm. ‘Hold on, little brother.’ She turned to Lilly. ‘Did the rest of the pathology fit?’
‘You’re the expert, but I’d say so,’ said Lilly. ‘He’d been visiting regularly, gearing up to the attack. Practising, really.’
‘What about orgasm, did she say he ejaculated? Remember, we have no semen at the scene,’ said Sheba.
Lilly took another sip of wine and tried to remember. ‘She said there was no sex of any sort so I’d assume not.’
Sheba shook her head. ‘I don’t like assumptions.’
‘Oh come on, sis, this sounds pretty good, you’ve got to admit,’ said Jez.
‘It sounds like a start,’ she conceded.
Jez leaned towards Lilly in mock conspiracy. ‘You’ll learn that with Sheba the glass is always half-empty.’
She wiggled her glass under his nose. ‘That’s because some mean bastard forgets to top it up.’
Jez took the hint and ordered another gin for Sheba and a second bottle of wine for himself and Lilly. She would have to get a taxi home.
‘At least it’s something plausible I can use at the trial,’ said Jez.
‘Which is great,’ said Lilly, ‘but that’s at least six months away. Even a challenge of the evidence wouldn’t be listed for a few weeks. I wish there was something we could do for Kelsey now.’
‘There might be something,’ said Sheba.
The others looked at her expectantly.
‘It’s nothing definite and there are still a few glitches to iron out.’
‘For God’s sake, sis,’ said Jez.
Sheba pursed her lips and turned to Lilly. ‘I need some more sessions with Kelsey, naturally, but from what I’ve read and what I’ve seen, she’s suffering from some type of psychiatric incapacity.’
Jez opened his mouth but Sheba silenced him with the palm of her hand.
‘I can’t yet confirm the nature of the incapacity. It may be an illness, it may be a disorder – either way I can confirm to a court that she needs specialist care.’
‘What type of care?’ asked Lilly.
‘Assessment and therapeutic input by professionals trained specifically to treat adolescents in a secure environment,’ said Sheba mechanically.
Lilly beamed. She had read those same words only days ago on a brochure for a new unit opened in London. ‘Leyland House.’
‘Would someone mind telling me what’s going on?’ asked Jez.
Lilly drained her glass. ‘We need to make an application for bail.’
Lilly left Lancasters on a high. She’d tasked Jez to set up a hearing as soon as possible and Sheba was to liaise with her contact at Leyland House. All Lilly had to do was get herself home.
She hailed a passing cab and poured herself in.
‘You okay, lady?’ asked the driver, his tone well short of sympathetic.
Lilly rubbed her temples. ‘Just hot. Could you open the windows?’
The driver muttered an expletive, opened all four windows and set off at speed.
Lilly took deep breaths and pushed her face into the stream of cool air. Her hair danced in all directions. Ten more minutes and she’d be home.
The driver eyed her through his mirror. ‘You don’t look so good.’
‘Just a headache,’ said Lilly with a plastic smile.
‘I’ll stop if you’re gonna be sick.’
Lilly shook her head, the movement sending her already spinning mind totally out of kilter.
‘I’m not going to be …’
Lilly sat by the side of the road, the contents of her bag scattered around her. At this time of day and this far from the train station she didn’t expect to see any more taxis and doubted one would pick her up even if she did. It would take only twenty minutes to walk home from here, but her legs had lost their solidity and even standing had proved beyond their current capabilities. Crawling was an option she was seriously considering.
Her phone rang.
‘Hello?’
‘Jesus, girl, you sound like shit,’ laughed Miriam. ‘Is now a good time?’
Lilly looked at her trousers, shining with fresh vomit, and rummaged through the detritus of her life for a tissue. ‘Now’s fine.’
‘Where are we at with Kelsey?’ said Miriam.
‘I think we can get her out of jail and into Leyland House,’ said Lilly, and rubbed her suit with an old Milky Way wrapper.
‘That’s fantastic!’ Miriam shouted so loudly that Lilly dropped her phone into the road. She reached for it, lost her balance and fell into the path of an oncoming family of cyclists. Although in no danger of hitting her they rang their bells furiously until she made it back onto the pavement and lay flat on her back.
‘For all you know I could be dying, you heartless bastards,’ Lilly shouted at the sky, unable to turn her head in their direction.
‘Are you all right, Lilly?’ asked Miriam.
‘Uh huh.’
‘Where are you?’
At that moment Lilly did not have the mental agility to lie. ‘I’m somewhere on the A5.’
‘Driving?’ asked Miriam.
‘No, sitting. Well, actually …’ Lilly trailed off.
‘You’re sitting somewhere on the A5?’ said Miriam.
‘Uh huh.’
‘I suppose I should ask why.’
‘The taxi man suggested I leave his thingy.’
Miriam coughed. ‘He kicked you out of the cab?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘Because he didn’t like your politics?’
‘I think the main reason was because I’m pissed.’
There was a moment of silence in which Lilly imagined her friend checking her watch and wondering what the hell Lilly was doing drinking herself into a stupor at lunchtime when she should be out finding parents for orphans.
‘Taxi drivers don’t mind people who’re a bit merry, Lilly, it’s how they make their living,’ said Miriam.
Lilly hauled herself upright. ‘That’s true, but I chucked up on the seat.’
‘Right.’
‘Twice.’
‘Right.’
‘He didn’t like that.’
Miriam coughed again. Lilly was sure she was swallowing a laugh.
‘So I’m just going to walk home now,’ she said, and swept her belongings, together with a handful of stones, leaves and an empty snail shell, into her bag.
‘Jack’s here. He’s just finished his shift and I’m sure he’ll pick you up,’ said Miriam.
‘No,’ shouted Lilly, sending the phone in a diagonal trajectory that almost knocked out a tooth. ‘No,’ she repeated, ‘it’s really not necessary.’
The line was already dead.
It took Jack nearly half an hour to reach Lilly, by which time she was vertical and heading unsteadily towards home, the stench of vomit from her trousers making her want to throw up again. He pulled his car alongside her.
Lilly continued to walk. ‘You needn’t have come. I’m quite all right.’
‘I’m here now,’ he said evenly.
She shrugged as if it were no skin off her nose and got in.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m melting,’ said Jack. ‘Do you mind if I put the windows down?’
‘It’s your car,’ she said.
She thought she saw a trace of a smile on his handsome face and inexplicably felt angry. ‘I suppose you two think this is funny.’
‘If you mean me and Miriam then you’re wrong,’ he said. ‘She’s worried about you.’
Lilly pointed a sweaty finger at him. ‘But you think it’s funny.’
He shook his head. ‘No, Lilly, I think it’s bloody hilarious.’
She sulked for the rest of the journey and refused to look in his direction. For his part, Jack hummed, which Lilly assumed was done with the sole intention of causing annoyance. It worked. By the time Jack pulled up at Lilly’s house she was furious, and pulled open the car door with a force that outweighed her still fragile sense of balance and sent her sideways. Once again Lilly found herself lying on the ground, this time with her right foot still inside the car. She jerked her leg towards her body but the strap of her bag had snaked around her ankle and every yank squeezed it tighter and tighter, like a boa constrictor sapping its prey.
Lilly struggled onto her feet, or at least onto her free left one, and bent back into the car to release its mate. Jack stared ahead in stoic silence and bit his cheek.
The bag, now separated from Lilly, chose to spill most of its contents into the footwell. Lilly let out a guttural moan and pushed the myriad of stationery and makeup back in. When she was finished Jack bent down and picked up a stray item. Lilly held out her open hand like a petulant child and Jack carefully placed a small snail shell into her palm.
She slammed the car door hard enough to knock it off and watched Jack drive away, sure she could see his shoulders lifting and falling, unable to contain his laughter.
As he disappeared Lilly sank onto the step, her anger completely gone, in its place a dizzying and uncomfortable exhaustion. Why, she wondered, had she been so angry anyway? He wasn’t to blame for her ludicrous predicament. It was she, not he, who had drunk enough to fell an elephant but hadn’t eaten enough to sustain a mouse on one of the hottest days of the year. She had made a total arse of herself. Again.
She discarded some foliage from her bag, put her key in the lock and decided to send Jack a text to apologise for her unforgivable behaviour.
A moment later, with her phone still in her hand, Lilly was face down on her sofa, snoring softly into the stained sleeve of her suit.