Trust Nobody

by June Hampson

Genres: Marriage & Divorce; Sagas; Mystery; Noir; Romantic Suspense; Crime Fiction; Suspense

Synopsis

'As good as Martina Cole and Jessie Keane' Amazon review Things have gone from bad to worse for Daisy Lane. When husband Kenny is banged up for robbery, she is left to run the family café with his brother Eddie. Hard man Eddie is a handsome man, but the price of a brutal childhood was a vicious streak that leads him to commit acts of terrifying violence just to get his way. And with brother Kenny out of the picture, Eddie makes his move on a villain even harder and more territorial than he is. But for all his bravado, Eddie's got an Achilles heel: Daisy Lane. And Daisy soon learns that it's not just territory Eddie's after . . . If you like books by Jessie Keane, Kimberley Chambers and Martina Cole, you'll love Trust Nobody : the first novel in the Daisy Lane thriller series. Why readers love June Hampson's thrillers: 'A cracking story ' - THE BOOKSELLER ' A great alternative to Martina Cole ' - Amazon reviewer 'If you like gritty, hard hitting drama then I would highly recommend this' - Amazon reviewer 'This book is an emotional rollercoaster full of grit, violence, sadness, warmth, emotion and love' - Goodreads reviewer

Release date: December 30, 2010

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 388

Sample

‘What the fuck … You planned this. Daisy, you bitch!’

She lifted the heavy hammer drill and pointed it at his head.

‘Eddie, you deserve it,’ she said, depressing the trigger. The machine whirred into life. The noise was deafening and the thing bucked in her hands but she was ready for it. What he’d done had sickened Daisy. Her brother-in-law kicked and strained uselessly at the nylon stockings that bound his wrists and ankles tightly to the iron bedstead. She could smell his fear and it mingled with her own.

Her heart was beating fast and as noisily as the drill. Never before had she attempted anything like this, but it was necessary. Necessary to frighten him into submission before he took charge of her life like he ran everyone else’s.

His head was thrashing from side to side. Daisy could feel sweat running down her back and between her breasts as she moved the drill nearer to his temple.

‘Don’t fuck with me, Eddie.’ He suddenly stopped writhing and looked her full in the eyes.

‘You won’t hurt me.’

‘You don’t know for sure, do you, though? Susie’s fifteen. Too young for you, you bastard.’ The noise and the vibration of the drill were making her nervous, let alone the man on the bed. What would happen if Eddie wouldn’t promise? If he didn’t stop making life difficult for her? She knew she couldn’t go all the way with this but she daren’t let him know that. Seconds ticked slowly by. Who would break first, she wondered, him or her?

‘For fuck’s sake put the thing down before you bloody drop it.’

Daisy pulled back, relief coursing through her.

‘You’ll leave her alone?’ How she kept her voice steady was a bloody miracle. He nodded. ‘This caff ain’t no knockin’ shop, understand?’

‘I understand. Now switch the fuckin’ thing off!’

She released the trigger and laid the drill down beneath the bed where she’d hidden it earlier. The minute it was out of her hands Daisy felt a whole lot better.

‘Give you an inch an’ you take a fuckin’ yard.’

A huge sigh came from the man on the bed. ‘You’re clever, Daisy. I’ll give you that. Luring me up here. Now untie me.’

‘You didn’t need much luring, Eddie Lane, an’ I’ll leave you for a bit longer to ponder on keeping promises.’

He laughed then. That laugh which melted women’s hearts like they were ice creams on a hot day. Only it wasn’t working on her. She had too much to lose, this time.

‘I should be the one with a smile on my face.’ She nodded towards his spread legs, his shrivelled penis. ‘Not such a big man now, are you, Eddie?’

‘Untie me.’

Ignoring him she looked around the bedroom. Cheap, scuffed furniture. A dressing table, double bed, wardrobe and chair. A window scanning the panorama of a grey, muddy, ship-filled Portsmouth harbour. The room smelled of stale cabbage and sweat, mixed with Jeyes fluid. Cold, unlet. A spare room. And when Daisy had cleaned it up she was going to ask if Susie would like to move in. At least she could watch over her then.

Susie was at present keeping an eye on things downstairs in the cafe and Daisy knew instinctively she could trust her. Doling out cups of tea, black like treacle, wasn’t that difficult and Daisy knew the girl wouldn’t dip her fingers in the till. And if she did? Then Daisy herself was to blame, not Susie.

This room was identical to Eddie’s across the hall, except his housed expensive suits and smelled of cologne and had pictures of Marilyn Monroe in pin-up poses stuck over one wall. It was also a hell of a lot cleaner. Eddie didn’t like mess or clutter in his life.

‘There’s another thing,’ Daisy said.

‘Something else I’m not doing right, Dais?’ He was certainly back to his cheeky self.

‘Bert left the management of this place to Kenny; he was Kenny’s ol’ mate, not yours. You made sure Kenny’s banged up in Winchester for two years. You’re Kenny’s brother, I’m his wife. So it’s my job to look after this caff and its rooms, okay? Me, not you.’ She jabbed her index finger first at herself then at him to underline her point. ‘So you get no say in anything, okay? You want to stay here, fine. That’s what Kenny wanted. But this place is my responsibility.’

A frown crossed his features, hardening his steel-blue eyes. He was a good-looking bastard – and he knew it. But there was evil in him. Her eyes flicked over his hard-muscled body.

‘How could you do this to me, Dais?’

‘Didn’t take much persuading, did you? You thought because I slept with you once when I was feelin’ really low, I’d do it again. Well, I made a mistake and that won’t fuckin’ happen again. From now on I’ll tolerate you, but touch Susie again and believe me, if I don’t fuckin’ kill you when you’re awake, I’ll get you when you’re asleep.’ A look of determination bloomed in her clear eyes. ‘This shithole of a caff is gonna be made into somethin’ worthwhile for when my Kenny gets out. I’ll make sure of that even if I nearly slog meself to death doing it. An’ it’s gonna be a clean place. You ain’t gonna bring no scandal or coppers to this place, see?’

‘I understand. You gonna untie me now, please, Dais?’

She moved to the foot of the bed and released the knot on one of his ankles. He didn’t move but watched every action she took. Then he calmly flexed his foot by circling his ankle.

‘Much better,’ he said.

Daisy unplugged the drill and began coiling the frayed flex around it. Opening the bedroom door, she stepped into the wooden-floored hallway. Before closing the door again, she turned back to Eddie and said, ‘If you can’t get free now, you ain’t worth shit! An’ another thing.’ This was going to be a cruel jab at him, knowing how much he idolised his favourite film star pin-up. So did Daisy. And it had stunned her when she’d heard the news on the wireless earlier. She flung at him, ‘Marilyn Monroe was found dead in bed this morning.’ She didn’t wait to see his reaction to the news.

Daisy hadn’t shown it, but she was still trembling when she reached the top of the stairs. Thank God she’d pulled it off. It was never going to be any good appealing to Eddie’s better nature. Most of the time he never had one. He was a selfish bastard. She had to start as she meant to go on, keep the bastard in line. She pushed open the door to her room. Two large bedrooms were on this top floor, one Daisy’s and one Vera’s.

Vera was a prossie. But she never brought anyone back to the cafe or her room: ‘This is my little nest, ducky. I conduct my business outside. This is my home. Mine and Kibbles’.’

Kibbles was the biggest tabby cat Daisy had ever seen. He seldom left Vera’s room, where he had a tray to do his business in and a food dish always filled with tasty morsels. Vera left her window open and if he wanted to roam he sometimes appeared in the cafe or in Daisy’s room to sleep like a furry doughnut on her bed. He was sitting on the windowsill now.

‘Come on in, then,’ Daisy said, pushing up the sash-corded window. Kibbles stepped daintily inside, purring loudly. ‘Wish all blokes were as easygoing as you.’ He jumped down from the sill to twine himself in and out of her legs as she put the drill safely away in the cupboard. If Eddie was going to come after her, it would be soon. It wouldn’t take him long to free himself and the last thing he’d want was for anyone to know how she’d tricked him. Somehow she didn’t think he’d bother, though. He knew which side his bread had marge on, did Eddie.

She tugged at the cotton curtains on their plastic wire. It was raining and she wanted to shut out the sight of the water running down the window panes. She could see the ferry boats in the harbour, like black beetles crawling across the stretch of water that separated Gosport from Portsmouth, the lights of Portsmouth and the Dockyard glittering through the deluge. If she’d left the window open she could almost have tasted the silt and mud oozing from the slimy Solent waters. Even on a fine day the seas were grey, not like the blue they painted them in the magazine adverts. From the cafe below came the mellow voices of The Everly Brothers, soothing her yet reminding her of Kenny.

Two fuckin’ years Kenny had got. She sighed. If he’d only waited another couple of days his future would have been settled. But no, they’d gone out on a job together. Him and Eddie. Some un-thought-out tinpot caper that had ended in a chase across the allotments for Kenny, and a cell for the night. And Eddie home and clear.

Breaking and entering. Two years. Another of Eddie’s bright ideas that always worked for him and which left someone else to carry the fuckin’ can. And while her husband was on remand, Bert goes and dies and leaves the cafe and building to be managed by Kenny. He wasn’t even conscious enough beforehand to be told Kenny might not be around to do the job. The place opened early for working men’s breakfasts and normally closed around seven after cooked teas. If there were still customers willing to spend money, Bert never bothered to close up on time.

Bert had liked Kenny. Well, who wouldn’t? As unalike as chalk and cheese, the two brothers. Kenny soft and fair with hair that he was forever pushing back from his forehead. And he teased Bert a lot, made him laugh. Not watchful like Eddie, who reminded Daisy of a black crow. Nice to look at but ever mindful of a chance to peck at whatever he could get for his own comfort. Daisy shuddered at what she’d just accomplished. Who would have thought she, a mere woman, could put the wind up Eddie Lane?

Kibbles meowed so she picked him up, burying her face in his mackerel-coloured fur. He smelled of Californian Poppy, Vera’s perfume. She smiled to herself. Vera was one of the best.

‘Milk, is it?’ she whispered into his warmth.

There was a bottle of sterilised on the draining board so she set Kibbles down and poured him a saucerful. ‘I’ve got to go down and see if Suze is okay,’ she said, scratching Kibbles behind one ear. The rain would make it a slow evening in the cafe.

Leaving cat and milk on the sink top, she went over to patch up her make-up.

Her reflection stared back from the mirror. Short blonde hair, blue eyes, and large even white teeth. She knew she wasn’t especially pretty. Not like Susie with her doll-like features or striking like Vera, pushing forty but with a good figure. Vera was like one of them movie stars. Hedy Lamarr, perhaps? All dark hair and gypsy looks with red lips. Daisy thought herself too skinny. She remembered her mum used to say she never stayed still long enough to put the weight on. Well, she was now in her middle twenties so what she saw in the mirror was what she was stuck with. She’d never be taller than her five-foot-two but she thought if she had a best feature it was her eyes. Joan Collins eyes, she’d once been told. She spat on the mascara brush and rubbed it across the block then caked it on her lashes. She was lucky they were already quite thick and dark for a blonde. She knew she had no right to moan about her looks. Or anything else, now. A place to live, money coming in, and apart from Kenny being inside for sixteen months – time off for good behaviour – she was better off than she’d ever been in her life before. Thanking her lucky stars and leaving the door ajar for Kibbles, she went out and down the stairs.

The house had five rooms in all, two at the top of the building. They were large rooms with butler sinks and gas stoves, though Daisy never cooked on hers. She didn’t even know if the stoves were safe to use or not. And three rooms on the floor below, all supposedly furnished. Bert had been canny. It was easier to evict undesirable tenants from furnished accommodation. Even if the furniture consisted of only one chair and a manky bed, it was classed as furnished.

The lavatory was downstairs in the yard at the back of the cafe and used by the cafe customers as well. High on her list of priorities was to whitewash the fuckin’ thing and give it a good scouring. It stank to high heaven, no matter how much Jeyes fluid she sluiced around. She must do the passageway too that ran the length of the ground floor from front to back of the place. The street door opened on to the passage which also led upstairs. No access for cafe customers but it could be reached through its kitchen this way. The double door of the cafe encompassed the corners of North Street and North Cross Street.

As she walked down the stairs she saw the room Eddie had been in was now empty.

Bert had slept in this room, but since his death and Daisy’s moving in she’d slowly erased most of the old man’s stuff. She’d kept a photo of him and Kenny and herself taken one day in the cafe by an enthusiastic punter with a new camera. Bert had stood that photo by his bedside. Until the heart attack claimed him. The photo was now down in the cafe on the top shelf where customers could see it – to remind everyone that Bert’s Cafe would remain Bert’s even though Daisy had been in residence for a couple of months now. She’d never change the name. Never. He’d been a decent bloke and well liked. And made a bloody good cuppa.

Daisy could hear muffled noises coming from Eddie’s room opposite and decided to leave well alone.

At the bottom of the stairs, near the kitchen, someone had knocked over the metal mop bucket that always stood on the cracked lino and the water had swilled over the floor. The smell of disinfectant was strong. Daisy set the bucket upright, squeezed out the mop and soaked up the grey water. When she’d finished, she let herself into the cafe.

‘Hi, Dais,’ rang a forced cheerful voice, accompanied by a shy grin.

‘All right, Suze?’ Without waiting for a reply she added, ‘Slow tonight?’ Susie nodded. The smell of bacon frying reminded Daisy she hadn’t eaten since this morning. Susie nodded towards three men lounging over by the jukebox. ‘Wheel of Fortune’ was playing now. An old record but it was Eddie’s favourite. Kay Starr was singing her heart out.

‘Just making them lot bacon sarnies.’

‘Make me one?’ Susie added more rashers to the pan, where they sizzled and spat enticingly.

‘They’re waitin’ for Eddie. He said he’d meet them half an hour ago. You don’t know what’s ’appened to him, I suppose?’ Daisy shook her head. She had the feeling Susie was glad she’d joined her. The girl was nervous around men and with good cause. She’d only agreed to be in the cafe because there was a counter between her and the customers, poor little sod, thought Daisy. Susie forked the rashers over in the pan.

‘Perhaps he’s been a bit tied up,’ Daisy said. ‘I know he’s upstairs.’

Truth to tell there had hardly been any real violence in the cafe since Daisy had taken over a few months ago. This corner of the town was run down. Bomb damage had left scars, waste grounds where purple fireweed blossomed amongst the old prams and dumped mattresses. Bert had ruled the cafe with a fist of iron and Daisy hoped she was going to be able to do the same. But she did need Eddie while Kenny was inside.

The Lane brothers were well known in the area. Especially the dark one with the temper. Bastard Eddie might be but he didn’t tolerate anyone shitting on him or his own.

‘That’s making my mouth water,’ Daisy said. Susie was forking the fragrant rashers onto the marged bread.

‘You want brown or tomato?’ She nodded towards the sauce bottles.

‘I don’t expect you to wait on me, Suze,’ Daisy answered. She upended the brown sauce bottle, slapped on another slice of bread and cut it crossways.

‘Here you go,’ Susie called out. One of the men ambled over.

‘Put ’em all on one plate, ducks,’ he said. He had bad skin and a dated Elvis Presley hairstyle that didn’t curl properly at the front. He wore the usual uniform of leather bomber jacket and jeans. ‘No sauces.’

Without a word Susie complied and he slouched back to his mates, clutching the plate. Daisy felt Susie freeze beside her as the kitchen door opened and Eddie came in.

‘Evening, girls,’ he grinned. His eyes found Daisy’s. She always forgot how tall he was until he stood near her.

‘Some mates of yours here,’ she said. ‘I was going to tell ’em you was tied up but you’re here now.’

‘Bitch,’ he muttered, picking up one of her sandwiches and taking a large bite. Then he put it back on her plate. ‘Mmm, nice that, Dais.’ He then glared at the men.

‘C’mon, let’s get outa here.’

‘Aw, Eddie, I only just started eating,’ said the youngest-looking of the three.

‘Fuckin’ bring it or leave it. I ain’t waiting.’

‘You look nice tonight, Eddie,’ Daisy said. And meant it. He had on a dark navy suit, new, and it fitted perfectly across his broad shoulders. ‘Shame such a good-looking bloke can be such a shit.’

He grinned. It was to Eddie’s credit that he never bore a grudge. He usually paid back a grievance straight away. Then forgot about it. He never even glanced at Susie.

Eddie swept past Daisy and opened the street door. One of the blokes, the auburn-haired, good-looking one, said, ‘Goodbye, Mrs Lane.’

‘Get a move on, Bri,’ Eddie snarled at him. ‘You too, Cal.’ They followed him into the rain, and Daisy turned to Susie, who looked uneasy.

‘It’s going to be all right,’ Daisy told her. ‘I had a bit of a word with him. He won’t touch you again. I promise.’ Susie looked like she didn’t believe her.

‘I want you to come and live here with me, Suze. I don’t want to think of you sleeping on the moored-up ferry boats, understand?’ Susie gave a half-smile at Daisy which never reached her light blue eyes. The cut on her lip had stopped bleeding but it was still swollen. Daisy guessed that had come from the gold signet ring Eddie always wore. Tomorrow the swelling would be more pronounced. The bruises on her upper arms and legs which she’d reluctantly showed Daisy earlier would still be there in the morning too. She was just a fuckin’ kid, for Christ’s sake. Daisy walked over to the cafe door and slipped the top and bottom bolts into place, then she turned the red cardboard sign round to ‘Closed’.

‘No arguments, Suze. I’ll make us a nice cup of tea and you can tell me all about it.’

‘I didn’t encourage him, Dais, honest.’ She wanted Daisy to believe her.

‘I don’t think for one minute you did. That bugger doesn’t need encouragement. Are you a runaway?’

Susie’s heart plummeted. She grabbed hold of Daisy’s wrist.

‘Don’t tell the coppers. I can’t go back.’

‘I wasn’t going to turn you over to them. But you must be honest with me.’ Daisy extricated her hand.

Susie wanted to tell Daisy about her mother who had shacked up with a sleazeball. There had been plenty of men in Doreen’s life but Ray had to be the worst.

‘Mum could never cope on her own,’ she said, as Daisy set a mug of strong tea in front of her. Susie stared hard at her. This woman was a really nice person and she wanted to confide in her, but what if Daisy blamed her?

‘Go on,’ said Daisy.

‘I thought when we got the council flat in St Mary’s Street in Southampton everything would change. Mum promised it would. She said she’d stop looking at problems through the bottom of a glass of gin. Well, we moved into this flat and it was real nice. Just me an’ her. Mum got a job cleaning on the liners at the docks. You know where I mean?’

‘Sure I do.’ Southampton Docks was one of the biggest employers in that area. ‘Go on, I’m listening.’ Susie could see she had Daisy’s full attention. That was another nice thing about Daisy, she listened. Really listened. She didn’t chime in and try for a bit of one-upmanship like some people who, if you had a black cat they had a blacker one, and liked the sound of their own voices.

‘There was only the two of us. Mum was “between fellers”. I didn’t mind rushing ’ome from school to get the dinner on and keep the place looking nice. We went out together on Saturdays and got bits and bobs from Kingsland Market and the flat got really nice.’

Aware of the silence, punctuated only by the driving rain on the windows, Susie got up from the stool she’d been sitting on. Lifting the wooden counter flap, she went round and started collecting fag-filled ashtrays. She wasn’t going to let Daisy see her cry. Not again. She’d done a lot of crying lately and some of the worst was when Daisy had found her huddled on the stairs with her blouse torn open.

‘Leave that. We can do it in a minute.’

Susie piled some of the ashtrays on the counter but, instead of going back to where Daisy was sitting with her feet up on the rungs of a chair, she went and slumped on a seat facing the rain-spattered window, and began talking again.

‘That’s where she met Ray. The market. He was doing house clearances, collecting the stuff during the week and flogging it at the market at weekends. Couldn’t bloody lose. He charged to shift the stuff from the houses then charged the punters to buy it. So he ’ad a bit of money to flash about.’ A huge sigh escaped her. ‘He took Mum out a few times and then he moved in.’ Susie turned her head towards Daisy who was watching her thoughtfully. ‘I didn’t expect Mum to live the life of a saint, without a bloke in her life, but even I could see he was scum. That’s ’ow it started. Him pressing himself up against me when he had to get past me. Then making excuses to be alone with me. You know the sort of thing. “Why don’t I walk up and meet Susie from school, Doreen? So you know she gets ’ome safely? Don’t want her hanging around with any boys, do we?” Well, at first I thought, give him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps he don’t realise what he’s doing. But he knew all right.’ She felt the anger rising and tried to hide it from Daisy by asking nervously, ‘D’you think I could have another cuppa?’

‘’Course.’ Susie made to get up. She wasn’t used to anyone waiting on her, but Daisy was already on her feet and waved her away with, ‘I’ll do it. You carry on. That’s if you want to, of course, I don’t want you to upset yourself.’

‘I want to tell you,’ she said, watching Daisy refill the kettle. ‘In fact, Daisy, it’s a relief to talk to someone who don’t think I’m a slag.’ Alarm rushed through her body as she felt a sudden rush of panic. She ran her fingers through her tangle of hair. ‘You don’t think that, do you?’

‘’Course not! Do I seem the kind of person who’d judge you?’

Susie looked at her and smiled. No, she could imagine Daisy would find some good, even in a killer. A small woman who, because she was slim, looked more like a girl. Her cropped blonde hair framed a face that sometimes seemed sad and yet, when Daisy smiled, it was like a dark room that had an electric light suddenly switched on. She was sort of illuminated from within, yeah, that’s the word, illuminated, thought Susie. But you knew you could trust her. Because she had the kind of eyes that never wavered when they looked at you. Large sincere eyes that saw right inside a person. Susie realised, if you had Daisy for a friend you were all right. And she’d give you the benefit of the doubt. But if Daisy made an enemy – well, she wouldn’t like to be Daisy’s enemy. That could be scary.

‘What about your mum? Didn’t she twig …’

‘The first time ’e came into my bedroom was when Mum was cleaning cruise ships, working nights. I was thirteen. He said if I didn’t let him, he’d leave Mum. Well, she was happier than she’d ever been and still off the sauce, though she was using from time to time. He’d started her on that. But I ’ad some silly notion that if she didn’t have a bottle of gin to ’and everything would be all right. I didn’t know what he meant by “let him”. But he said lots of dads “cuddled” their daughters. I’d never ’ad a proper dad, so I didn’t know about that but I did know that Aisha, my friend, she came from a big family and they was always cuddling each other and laughing and larking about.’

‘So that’s how it started?’

Just then the whistle blew on the small kettle and Susie jumped to her feet.

‘Stay still. I said I’d do it.’

Susie sat down again and examined her bitten nails. She watched Daisy’s quick body movements as she bustled with the brown earthenware teapot and produced Bourbon biscuits from a high cupboard and shook them onto a plate. Presently she brought the whole lot on a tray round to where Susie sat near the window.

‘Don’t get the idea I liked it. Or him.’ Susie watched for the telltale look of disgust to form in Daisy’s eyes. But nothing happened. All she could see was genuine concern.

‘Go on,’ Daisy said softly.

‘He said it would be our little secret and that I was helping to keep Mum happy. An’ how could little cuddles hurt anyone? But I got so I was scared to go to bed when Mum wasn’t there. At first that was all it was, the cuddling. Then ’e wanted to get under the covers with me. I hated the smell of him, Daisy. The hairs on his body. And then ’e made me touch him. You know, down there. Until in the end ’e was doing things to me that I know now only married people should do, and it hurt. It hurt me so much.’ Susie couldn’t help herself, she started to cry.

Daisy let her sob until the girl wiped her nose along the sleeve of her pink, grubby cardigan and said, ‘I stopped going to school. This was a few months back. I thought all the kids could see inside my heart and know the filth in there that had been going on for so long.’ She felt her lower lip tremble again, but she carried on. ‘He said if I didn’t go back to school he’d tell Mum it was me who started it all. If Ray did that, Mum would start drinking again. And the heroin was bad enough as she was spending a lot of time on the nod and taking time off from work. I couldn’t go to school where Aisha and the others were droolin’ over boys because I felt so sick about them behavin’ like silly kids. I had to get away from Ray. So I ran. No clothes, no money, but he won’t make me touch him ever again because I won’t go back.’ She’d made her mind up about that. No, she’d never go back. Never. Daisy pushed tea towards her. ‘You know, nobody’s waited on me since Mum did when I was small and had the measles,’ Susie whispered.

‘Better make the most of it then, Suze,’ Daisy said with kindness. ‘If you take the room I’m offering, it goes with a job. Helping in the caff can be monotonous and hard. And the smell of fry-ups gets into your clothes something terrible. Anyway, I think you should still be at school.’ A frown had crossed Daisy’s face.

‘Please …? Let me stay here. I’ll work hard. I promise.’

Daisy said nothing for a few moments. She pushed the plate of biscuits across the table, then answered, ‘I can’t afford to get in trouble with the authorities.’

‘In a few months I’ll be sixteen.’ Susie could see Daisy was having problems coming to grips with this. Trying to work out dates in her head, probably, she thought. And who could blame her? But Susie had told her the truth. ‘I don’t have to go to school,’ she insisted. ‘Fifteen’s the leaving age. And if you turn me over to the cops they’ll take me back home to Ray and what ’e’s got lined up for me. Or they’ll put me in a children’s home until I can get a job. And I’ve been in a couple of ’omes when Mum’s been on the bottle before and believe me you learn more stuff in them places than ever you do on the streets—’

‘Okay, okay,’ Daisy cut in. ‘You can stay.’

‘Oh, Daisy, you won’t regret it, I promise you. Anyway, they’d be sure to put me in care for a while. Now that Mum’s pregnant.’

‘Oh, you poor kid!’

‘Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want nobody’s pity. It’s Mum as deserves pity. Losing ’er proper job was on the cards before I left. Ray started her in on the heroin, gave her the habit so he could put her on the game. Most of the time she don’t know where she is or who she’s with now.’

‘Have you—?’

‘Don’t be stupid. I ’ad enough trouble keeping out of the way of Ray. In the end there was so many blokes coming and going in the flat in St Mary’s Street that I couldn’t ’andle it no more.’

‘Did you tell your mum?’

‘At last I had to. I came home one afternoon an’ there was this old bloke sitting in ’is underwear in my room. I knew what ’e wanted all right. But he wasn’t getting it from me. But Ray? He denied he knew anything about it. Said the bloke was pissed and just went for a lie-down. Then ’e dangled a fix in front of her and told her I was trying to split them up. She can’t help ’erself. Can’t see no further than the next fix.’

‘So she believed him?’

‘Yeah, and that hurt like hell. I knew then it was her or me, though I didn’t want to leave ’er, specially not with the little one coming. But I knew it wouldn’t be long before … He’s a fuckin’ shithouse, that Ray!’

‘So you ran away and came down here?’

‘Got a lift with a lorry driver at Bargate in Southampton. He was deliverin’ roofing tiles to a Gosport contractor. I wasn’t bothered where I went as long as it was away . . .