BETRAYED

‘But you were the one who let your daughters out. Surely you must hold some sort of guilt?’

Bronwin’s mother blinked away the tears as she felt them burning. She bent forward, holding her stomach, and whispered almost inaudibly as her gaze found the window. ‘Of course I do. Of course I do.’

‘Then let us help you. You do want some help, don’t you?’

Bronwin’s mum nodded, trance-like.

‘I still don’t really know why she’s here.’

Dr Berry’s expression was patronising. ‘I think you do, but if you need reminding again, why, I’ll tell you. Myself and social services thought it was for the best, especially in the light of your past history with children’s services. It’s our job to make sure children are safe from harm. You know Bronwin is still very confused with what happened and who was there that night in the woods. Like I said before, she’s a very troubled little girl. She insists on telling these lies.’

‘Bronwin ain’t a liar. That’s one thing she’s never done is lie. If she’s telling you something then it must be true.’

‘That’s as maybe, but she’s a child and all children lie.’

‘She don’t.’

Dr Berry sighed. ‘Do you want us to help her and at the same time help you?’

‘Of course!’

‘I had another meeting with her social workers and they’re in agreement with me that it’s probably best for all of us, you as well, if Bronwin stays here with us. Permanently.’

Bronwin’s mother stood up. Her body shook with fear and fury. ‘Oh no you don’t. You ain’t going to mess my little girl up.’

‘We won’t be doing that; what we’ll be doing is untangling the mess that has already been put there in her short life.’

‘That ain’t going to happen. You ain’t going to take my daughter.’

‘Of course not. That’s why I’m asking you to sign these papers.’

‘I’m not signing nothing. I want my daughter and I want her now.’

‘I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible. We’ve had an extension of the interim care, which means you can’t take her.’

The shock and hurt on Bronwin’s mum’s face was naked. Dr Berry turned away quickly as the shouting began.

‘You bastards. You fucking bastards.’

‘We’re not doing this to upset you, we’re doing this for Bronwin’s benefit. You’ll be able to get on with your life, knowing Bronwin is getting the help she needs. She’ll thank you in the end, I know she will. You can give her what you didn’t have yourself. You can give her a chance and a start in life.’

‘But I’m her mother. She should be with me.’

‘Yes, but only if it’s right for her – and at the moment, it isn’t right.’

Bronwin’s mother headed for the door, catching Dr Berry raising his eyebrows at her skirt. She pulled it down quickly.

‘Well I’m sorry, but no way. I would never hand my child over to the likes of you. I might not be what you think a good mother should be, and I’m not saying I haven’t got my faults, but I love Bronwin. I loved both my kids.’

Dr Berry’s face was twisted with cruelty. ‘Fight us? Fight me and you’ll lose – and then you’ll never see Bronwin again. Do it this way and you’ll be able to see her. It’s your choice.’

‘You … you can’t do that.’

‘We can and we will. Do you really think the courts will agree to you keeping her after both myself and the social workers give evidence of you being unstable and incapable of giving Bronwin what’s needed?’

‘I love her. Ain’t that enough?’

‘In an ideal world it is, but then we’re not in an ideal world, are we? Can you excuse me one moment?’

Not waiting for any sort of reply, Dr Berry picked up the phone on his desk. He spoke quietly into it. ‘Would you mind coming in now?’

A moment later the glass door opened. The man who walked in didn’t bother to introduce himself. He stood with a frozen frown on his face as Bronwin’s mum stared at him. ‘Who’s he?’

Once more, Dr Berry chose to ignore a question he saw as irrelevant. He walked over to Bronwin’s mum, picking up the papers as he passed his desk, then reached out with the pen that was always kept in his breast coat pocket.

‘Sign them. It’s for the best. If you say you love her, which I believe you do, you’ll listen to me. No one’s the enemy here.’

Bronwin’s mother took in the doctor’s face. Deep entrenched lines circled his eyes and cold small green eyes stared back at her. ‘You’ll let me see Bronwin?’

Dr Berry pushed the pen and papers forward. ‘She’ll be in good hands. There’s nothing to worry about. I promise.’

Taking the papers, Bronwin’s mother grabbed at the pen and hurriedly scrawled her name on the papers. Next, Dr Berry passed the papers to the other man, talking as he did so. ‘We need another signature, you see, so that’s why this gentleman’s here. You’ll get a copy of this for yourself.’

The other man took out his own pen. Bronwin’s mother watched, loathing etched on her face as her eyes traced the flamboyantly written signature.

Dr Berry smiled, his tone overly jovial for the sentiment of the occasion and his clichéd remark inappropriate.

‘Right then, that’s all done and dusted.’

‘Now take me to see my daughter.’

‘You’ve done the right thing.’

‘So why doesn’t it feel like it?’

Staring through the glass pane of the door, Bronwin’s mother wiped away her tears before opening it. Quietly, she walked into the room, feeling the air of hush as she entered. She stared at her daughter. So tiny. So elf-like. So beautiful.

‘Bron. Bron, it’s me.’

Bronwin’s eyes stayed closed.

Dr Berry crept up silently behind her. ‘It’s all right, she’s had some medicine to calm her down. She’s just in a heavy sleep.’

‘Can I wake her up?’

‘It’s best to leave her. She needs all the rest she can get.’

Leaning forward, Bronwin’s mother swept her daughter’s mass of blonde hair away from her forehead. She kissed her head before speaking to her sleeping child. ‘Bron, Mummy’s got to go now. But always remember I love you and I’ll see you soon, and Bron … I’m sorry.’

Turning to the doctor, Bronwin’s mum stood up and went into the pocket of her torn jacket. ‘Can you give her this? It’s her birthday card.’

‘Yes, of course. The nurse will see you out. The social workers will be in touch in the morning to sort the other details out.’

Once Bronwin’s mother had left, Dr Berry took a quick glance at the card before throwing it into the bin in the corner. Deep in thought, he stood observing Bronwin as she began to stir.

The door opened, jarring him from his thoughts. He smiled at the entering visitor and reaching out his hand with a welcoming greeting. ‘Thanks for signing those papers, by the way. I thought for a moment the mother was going to be difficult and start making a noise about her parental rights. I’ll just wake her up for you.’

Walking across to Bronwin, Dr Berry gently nudged her. He spoke quietly. ‘Bronwin? Bronwin? Hey birthday girl, you’ve got a visitor. Someone’s here to see you.’

Bronwin slowly opened her eyes before rubbing them gently. She sat up, then screamed. It was the man from the woods with the black shiny shoes.

‘She’s all yours, come and find me when you’ve finished. Oh, and have fun.’ Dr Berry chuckled unpleasantly, tapping the man on his back as he left the room, leaving him sitting on Bronwin’s bed as he began to unbutton his shirt.

Nine years later

The bed was hard and the chair was too. Sparse and unwelcoming. And Bronwin didn’t know why she couldn’t go home, instead of having to stay in a house where she didn’t want to be and didn’t know anyone. It was the same recurring thought she’d had each time they sent her somewhere new.

She’d been in more care and foster homes than she could possibly remember and over time she’d developed a sixth sense. Knowing when people really wanted her or when all they really wanted was the few hundred quid caring allowance they got for taking in the likes of her.

How long had it been now? Eight years, nine even. Nine years of going from one home to another.

She no longer wanted to be, or to feel like, the unwanted teenager. The problem child. Hard to place. Hard to love. She didn’t want to become bitter; hardened to life before she’d reached eighteen.

She was determined to change it. To take control. And as Bronwin stared out of the window at the rainy night she made a decision. The time was right. She was old enough not to have to listen to a bunch of jumped-up social workers telling her what to do. All they really did anyway was to find her a roof over her head – the rest of it was left to her.

Bronwin stuffed her clothes and the bedraggled Mr Hinkles, her childhood teddy bear, back into her bag, then opened the window. She felt the chill of the evening air and the spray of the rain on her face, blown in by the wind. Making sure no one could hear her, Bronwin shuffled onto the ledge. It wasn’t so far down. Seven feet perhaps, maybe eight. Eight feet to freedom.

After a count of three in her head and then another one of five, Bronwin jumped, hitting the ground hard. She rolled on the grass and felt a sharp pain in her ankle, shooting pains up the outside of her leg, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her was that she was out. Out of the care system that had never cared for her and out of the system that had taken away her mother, the one person she’d cared about.

Getting up from the wet ground, Bronwin ignored the pain. She quickly picked up her bag, making sure no one in the house had seen her. The rain hit down hard on her but instead of it feeling cold, it felt warm, invigorating. She was free. She was finally free. Today was her sixteenth birthday.

PRESENT DAY

1

Bunny Barker lay back on the silk pillows and smiled. She stretched her long tanned athletic body out, enjoying the feel of her nakedness in the heat of the day. Her natural blonde hair cascaded over the side of the bed, almost reaching the expensive cream carpet that had just been laid.

It was only early July, yet the stifling Soho air made it necessary to have all the windows open, along with the three chrome fans switched to high. It was almost two o’clock, which meant she had another client in less than an hour, although she’d make this her last one of the day. That was the beauty of being her own boss.

No one to tell her what to do or when to do it. Though it hadn’t always been like that. When she was younger she’d worked the streets along with the other girls. Night after night, freezing her ass off whilst fighting off punters, fighting off pimps, even fighting off the other Toms in the street who hadn’t taken kindly to her being around. Then, fortune had come her way and everything had changed.

In the past seven years her life had become unrecognisable, bringing her things she’d never imagined possible. She had almost everything she could’ve wished for. Almost. Because Bunny knew there was one thing missing in her life. One thing life hadn’t ever brought her. And that one thing was trust. Trust was something Bunny had never had.

She wasn’t ever going to take her eyes off the ball. It’d taken her almost the whole of her thirty-three years to make something of herself and she wasn’t going to let anything, even love, destroy that.

She knew a lot of people would argue that being a hooker wasn’t making anything of herself, but Bunny had long ago stopped caring what anybody thought.

Looking round her sumptuous room, decorated in cream and gold, Bunny heard a knock on the door.

‘Come in.’

The door opened and Claudia, her all-round helper, stood smiling. What she would do without Claudia, Bunny didn’t know.

‘Your next client’s here, Bun. He’s early; shall I tell him to wait downstairs or do you want to see him now?’

Stretching over, Bunny dragged on the lit Marlboro cigarette by the bed. She sighed lightly. She was tired. The familiar nightmares had kept her awake again and as a result she wasn’t really in the mood to entertain. Besides, it was too hot and sticky, so the thought of a punter writhing and groaning as he pumped away on top of her didn’t exactly fill her with enthusiasm. Still, at least she’d finish earlier than she thought she would, which meant she could go and pick up the last few bits for her holiday.

She caught her breath. It was silly, but the thought of the holiday gave her butterflies in her stomach.

She’d never been further north than Edgware nor further south than Lewisham, but here she was, about to pack her bags for a few days away in Marbella. And as much as she was excited about it, the idea of it terrified her as well, and although it’d only be for a few days, the idea of leaving behind loved ones scared her.

‘Let him in, Claudia, and once you’ve shown him up, you can get off early if you like.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Totally, babe. This one’s no trouble. If the last times are anything to go by, he’ll be in and out within two minutes.’ The two women giggled before Claudia left the room.

Leaning up on her elbows, Bunny braced herself as she always did before seeing a client. Of course she knew she could give it all up if she wanted, but she just wasn’t willing to. No matter what anybody promised her. This was just something she had to do. She supposed it was no different to the people she saw every morning trooping off to work, wishing they were somewhere else.

When the suggestion of being a kept woman had been presented to her in the past, the idea of it had seemed very appealing at first. Not having to do anything. Not having to worry about anything. But then, as they always did, the old nagging doubts had entered her head and once again it’d boiled down to one thing. Trust. Or rather the lack of it.

She’d seen enough men promise the world to their latest bit of stuff, only for them to get bored of their dolly birds a few months down the line when a tastier sort came along. And there was no way she was going to get turfed out and end up back on the streets on the whim of a man. So, whether she liked it or not, Bunny continued to turn tricks, ensuring she was in a position to put money away for her future, which helped to quell her almost pathological fear of not having a pot to piss in.

In the past she’d tried to do other things but her lack of education and qualifications hadn’t allowed her to; more importantly, her lack of confidence in who and what she was always led her back to this.

‘Hello Bunny.’

Her regular punter stood by the door, as sinewy and pallid as ever. Even though it was the height of summer he wore a tweed three-piece suit and Bunny could see the tight starched collar and expensive silk tie was making him sweat. Word had it he was a judge but she didn’t know if that was true or if it was just the Soho grapevine working overtime.

Though in truth, it didn’t really matter to Bunny what her punters did. She wasn’t interested in the way Claudia was, who got very excited by any sort of gossip. All that mattered to Bunny was that they paid her. Five hundred big ones a time. She wasn’t cheap. But she shouldn’t be either. She was good at her work and she’d never known any of her clients go away disappointed.

‘Hello darling. It’s good to see you, Peter.’ Bunny smiled as she drawled her greeting, watching the man strip off his clothes hurriedly. He knelt proudly on the bed with his semi-erect penis standing limply. Bunny inwardly shuddered but didn’t show her disdain.

‘My, my. What have you got there for me? I can see I’m in for a treat today, babe.’ Bunny licked her lips, feigning excitement as the man’s eyes lit up in delight. He smiled back, rubbing his sagging balls as he spoke.

‘Bunny darling, I’ve missed you and so has Mr Torpedo here.’

Bunny stifled a laugh. She didn’t want to be cruel, but the idea of him referring to his almost flaccid penis as some kind of lethal weapon amused her.

Holding a fixed smile, Bunny watched her punter crawl up the bed towards her on all fours with a leering, salivating grin on his face. Feeling his bony fingers making their way up her smooth legs, she closed her eyes, expertly shutting out the man in her head; concentrating instead on working out which suitcase to take on holiday. It was a skill she’d learnt a long time ago.

A moment later, and before she knew what was happening, Bunny heard the man let out a piercing scream. Jumping in fright, she opened her eyes to see the terrified punter being dragged off the bed by his hair and hit the ground, as a fist began to pummel his face. The splattering of blood on Bunny’s legs was her cue to scramble up off the bed. Frantically, she shouted, remembering she’d sent Claudia home. ‘Stop! Stop! Leave him alone.’

Racing towards the punter and his assailant, Bunny tried to intervene, but she wasn’t any match for the other man. Desperate to stop the onslaught, Bunny looked round the room. In the corner, she saw her new and very expensive gold lamp. With a sigh of resignation, she ran across to grab it.

Running back and with only a small hint of a pause at the thought of her beautiful lamp, Bunny swung it with all her might, bringing it crashing down on the man’s head.

Immediately he dropped to his knees, falling forward with a cry of pain. ‘What the fuck!’ The man turned round, his handsome face contorted with rage and his brown eyes full of surprise as Bunny stood panting above him, holding the remaining piece of the lamp. ‘Hello Bun, how’s tricks?’

‘Don’t give me hello Bun, and don’t try to be funny! Look what you’ve made me do to me bleedin’ lamp.’

Del Williams sat on the floor and rubbed his head. He grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders as he stared up intensely with his dark brown eyes. His voice was gravelled and deep. ‘I’ll get you another one.’

Pouting, Bunny crossed her arms. ‘I don’t want another one, I wanted this one.’

‘Don’t be angry, babe; have a heart. What’s a man supposed to do?’

‘Stay out of me business, that’s what. Why do you always have to do this?’

‘Do what?’

‘This. How many times have you come in here steaming like a bleedin’ bull at a rodeo? I won’t have any punters left at this rate. You’re lucky Claudia isn’t here, she would’ve had your guts.’

Del smiled as he pictured Claudia. Over the past few years he’d had more barneys with her than he’d care to remember after the countless, and sometimes elaborate, attempts to barge his way in to see Bunny unannounced.

‘Well, I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d give it up like I asked. Like I keep asking.’

Bunny rolled her blue eyes and spoke gently. ‘I told you how it’s got to be Del. I know you …’ Before Bunny was able to finish her sentence, a loud pained groan was heard from across the room. Del and Bunny looked over, grinning and catching each other’s eyes as they realised they’d forgotten about the bewildered punter who still lay curled up on the floor.

Hurrying over and grabbing her grey silk robe to cover herself, Bunny bent down, helping the man sit up. She spoke with genuine warmth and concern. ‘Are you okay? I am so sorry Peter, and so is my friend. Actually darlin’, he’s that sorry, he wants to apologise.’ Bunny turned to Del, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Don’t you?’

Del looked down, wanting to avoid Bunny’s eyes and definitely wanting to avoid having to apologise to some toffee-nosed geezer, who no doubt had a blissfully unaware missus and children waiting at home for him. But then, who was he to talk?

Continuing to avoid Bunny’s eyes, Del thought about his wife, Edith. Spoilt, overweight and luxuriating in Marbella with a sour look on her face. He’d met her through a friend when she was barely twenty and she’d clung onto him like a leech, refusing to disappear when he tried to give her the elbow, until eventually he’d given up and she’d just become part of the furniture, placing her feet firmly under the table.

When he looked back on it, he couldn’t even say she’d really been any different. Maybe not overweight, but the spoilt, sour expressions and the demanding ungrateful personality had always been there. Even when he’d lifted up her veil on their wedding day, instead of a smiling bride it was a pursed-lipped, angry woman who was never satisfied with anything he did. His friends had often asked him why he’d married Edith and his reply was always the same. Fuck knows.

He’d lost count of how many years he’d been married, like he’d lost count of how many years it’d been since he’d been able to look into Edith’s eyes and feel anything but disgust and loathing for her. He’d tried not to. He really had. But however hard he tried, it didn’t make one bit of difference.

He’d built his drugs and money laundering empire, working his ass off to provide for Edith and make a name for himself but it’d kept him away from her, and when he had gone back home laden with presents and enthusiasm, all he’d got in return was a long face and complaints. So gradually his visits had become less and less, until they were virtually non-existent, though the presents had continued and the money. Edith had made sure of that – Fedexed to whichever luxury holiday destination she was at.

And then, one Christmas, lonely and tired, he’d decided to go home. Wanting to spend some quality time with her out in his luxury villa in Marbella. But the person who’d greeted him wasn’t his wife. She was a stranger. A greedy, selfish and ungrateful one – and in that moment he’d known he hated her.

He’d often laid in bed wondering why he hadn’t left Edith. He wanted to. God, did he just. But when it came down to it, he couldn’t.

Not leaving her was for one reason and one reason only. She could and would make his life very difficult indeed. She knew everything about him and everything about his businesses and when it boiled down to it, no matter how much money or how many houses he gave her he just couldn’t do the one thing that would’ve freed him from her. He just couldn’t trust his wife.

‘Well?’ Bunny’s voice broke into his thoughts. He stared at her incredulously. She was seriously expecting him, one of the biggest faces in the country and certainly one of the biggest faces in the Costa, to apologise to some skank? But then, he guessed, that was love for you. It melted the toughest of hard men, and from the first time he’d laid eyes on Bunny as she stood on the corner of Greek Street touting for business, he’d been hooked, lined and bleedin’ sinkered.

Winking at Bunny, Del Williams opened his mouth, not quite believing what he was doing as he began to apologise to the guy who’d been about to shag the only woman he’d ever loved in his life. The woman who completed him.

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