Cheap White Meat

by Alex Flynn

  Targets. That’s all the police work to. That’s why Lucy’s case would have been thrown out in the first place. It would have been too much of a risk in court. Just like a personal injury firm who work on a “no-win no fee” basis. They won’t take a risk on wasting their time and effort on cases that they might not win.

  But sometimes you’ve got to take risks. If those risks had been taken then it would have stopped me being abused. And it might have had an impact up and down the country. Made more people aware of just what was going on.

  Even though Lucy’s trial might not have been a success then other girls might have felt that they could come forward and speak out. It’s not always about number of men behind bars and length of sentences handed out. They’re good as a punishment for those who have committed the crimes. But more importantly they act as a deterrent to those who have the opportunity to get involved. An opportunity to get involved in the next great “Cheap White Meat” feast.

  Lucy’s trial would have created awareness. No matter what the outcome. Awareness in the public that things like this were going on and that nothing was being done about it. That awareness might have made other people come forward. And not just victims but people who might have suspected that they knew of someone who might potentially have been a victim.

  When I first started hanging around in Megabites I never knew that I’d be in danger. I thought it would be safer because it was a public place. Situated on a busy street with lots of people coming and going. And I’m sure there are many girls my age who feel the same way. But if it was public knowledge that a small minority of takeaway workers and taxi drivers weren’t safe to be around then many girls would have thought twice. Or at least even been able to spot the signs that there were being groomed.

  I’ve tried to kid myself that I was looking for someone to take advantage of me, anyone, but that’s not the case. If I was looking for just anyone then I’d have got into a car with the first dirty old man who ever gave me a second look. But Adam was different. He won my trust over a number of weeks. It started out with a friendly “hello” in the takeaway. And then waves in the street if he saw me. Then an offer of a lift. Every time just a little bit more. Every time he’d conveniently be in the right place at the right time. At the time it just seemed like a happy coincidence, but men don’t work that way.

  If Adam had tried to chat me up in Megabites then I’d have probably shunned his advances and made it plainly obvious that I wasn’t interested. I had to do it with other blokes, thankfully they’d only try it on with me once. But Adam didn’t do anything like that. And by the time he made his move, it felt so normal I didn’t realise what I’d done was wrong until much later.

  I don’t remember much about what went on with Adam’s “friends”. This might frustrate Dan’s superior but it’s the truth. One of the things I’m pretty good at is blocking things out of my head that I don’t want to think about. He’s showing me pictures of the room where I “worked”; claiming it was a brothel, but I never saw it like that. It was just a room where I would go as and when I was available. There was no set arrangement in place. It doesn’t matter wherever the place was a brothel or not. Several men, a lot older than me, paid to have sex with me whilst I was still a minor. The crime has been committed. And not just against me. But against several other girls.

  When Dan’s superior’s had enough at huffing and puffing, Mrs Robinson decides to pipe up.

  ‘I understand this is difficult for you, but we are trying to get a positive resolution for you.’

  But they’re not.

  They’re only taking part in this charade because it’s what they’ve been told to do. How does constantly having to go over it time and time again get a positive resolution for me? At the end of this court case, what do I get out of it? If Adam and his “friends” are convicted then I get the satisfaction that what I’ve said in my statement can be believed beyond reasonable doubt. I’ll order the balloons and party poppers now to celebrate with just in case.

  If I had my way then I wouldn’t want to be involved in any court case, but I’m not doing it for myself. I’m doing it for Lucy who won’t be believed on her own. I’m doing it for the other girls who have been victims and are too frightened to come forward. Who feel like no one will believe them. I’m doing it so that the public are made aware of what has been happening. To make sure that there’s a change in mind-set so that children are warned about the potential dangers that are free to roam our streets. So a positive resolution for me would be that I would never hear about this type of case in the future. Not because they’re being covered up by the police again but because they’re not happening. Although I know that’s not going to happen.

  Sargent Do-As-I-Say enters the room and says that there’s a telephone call for me. Dan’s superior questions whether it was really necessary for him to be interrupted with such a trivial notification but Sandra puts him the picture about Mum.

  ‘Can it not wait?’

  ‘No,’ Sandra informs him, with a stare that looks like he’s been touching her somewhere he shouldn’t.

  ‘Very well then. But don’t be too long. I’m a very busy man.’

  What a complete and utter knobhead this excuse for a man is. And that’s just Sandra’s opinion. Mine is far worse. Sargent Do-As-I-Say leads us to Mrs Robinson’s office and says that she’ll wait outside with Sandra.

  Chapter Nine

  There’s no response when I speak into the phone. I feel like an idiot talking to no one so I nearly hang-up but don’t when I hear a strained voice come on the line.

  ‘Jennifer, I’m here.’

  ‘Mum.’

  ‘Sorry, I thought they wouldn’t let you speak to me. My time’s nearly up.’

  ‘I was with the police.’

  ‘Oh. I can call tomorrow if you’re busy?’

  ‘No. They can wait.’

  And then silence.

  Talking on the phone is much harder than speaking in person.

  ‘Ten days.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Until I get released.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Is Sandra there?’

  ‘Do you want to speak to her?’

  ‘I want to speak to you too, but I haven’t got much time.’

  Mum’s starting to sound panicky so I go and get Sandra. She comes into the room and very quickly she’s making arrangements for a meeting. I want to tell Sandra that she’s not due to be working that day but she doesn’t seem too concerned about that. I go back on the line to say goodbye to Mum and say that I’ll see her on Friday.

  As soon as I put the phone down, I say to Sandra:

  ‘Friday’s your day off.’

  ‘Would you rather Kate went with you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, I guess that I’m working Friday then.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘But I want to. My job is to get you out of here and back living with your mum as soon as possible. I can’t turn around and say that you can’t meet your mum on Friday just because it’s “my day off”.

  I don’t deserve this. After everything I’ve done in life I’ve got people going out of their way to help me. And I feel so useless because there’s nothing that I can do in return for Sandra. I have to stop myself when I let myself start to think that everything’s going to work out fine for me. Because if I let myself think it then there’s no way that it’s going to happen.

  Sandra asks me if I’m okay and I remember that Dan and his superior are waiting for me. Although I’m not in the mood for them today, I don’t want Dan’s superior wanting to come and visit me on another day, say Friday for example.

  ‘Come on,’ I say, ‘let’s get on with it.’

  There’s just Mrs Robinson waiting for us when we return to the Interrogation Zone. Dan soon returns with his drug addiction in hand and his superior reeks with the affects o
f his own personal life-long battle with a socially acceptable addiction. Mrs Robinson makes a bit of small talk about the telephone call I’ve just had and Sandra fill her in with all the details.

  ‘Right, let’s get down to business,’ Dan’s superior says. ‘I’ve spent the past few days pouring over your witness statement that is going to be read out in court on your behalf. This is one of our key pieces of evidence, do you understand that?’

  Oh great, I’m 8 years-old once again. I roll my eyes pedantically and consider saying something a child would come out with, but Sandra notices my petulance and nudges me in the side, which makes me sit-up to attention.

  Dan’s superior doesn’t pay any attention to the fact that I never got round to answering his question and instead gets Dan to read out my statement. The statement starts with a bit of background information about myself. How long I’ve been in care, what my mental state has been like during that time and what my relationship has been like with Mum, who is the only family I’ve got.

  I think the main purpose of the start of the statement is to tug on the heartstrings of the jury and show how vulnerable I was at the time and how Adam and his “friends” took advantage of that vulnerability, no matter how much they might try to claim that I was compliant with them.

  One of the things that Dan thinks Adam is going to use as a part of this defence is that he didn’t know that I was only 15. After all, he can’t deny that he didn’t know me as numerous people have confirmed him being seen with him. His “friends”, however, are likely to deny ever spending any time with me whatsoever.

  My statement makes it quite clear I never told Adam that I was underage, but I also never lied to him and reassured him that I was 16 or older. Regardless of my age, he took advantage of me and then passed me on to his “friends” to do the same thing, and my medical records can prove that I wasn’t “of sound mind” at the time.

  Rape. Statutory rape. Sexual abuse. It doesn’t matter what the actual term is, in this country it is against the law so if someone has committed a crime of this nature whilst in this country then they should be brought to justice for it, regardless of their background or acceptability in their own culture.

  Dan’s superior nods his head along as statement is read out, like he thinks that it’s going to stand-up in court. I still cringe when Dan gets to the more “intimate” parts of the statement and I can’t help but look at anywhere but at him. I’m so glad that I won’t have to be in the court room when the statement is read out because I don’t think I could take the look on the jury’s faces when they hear about what I was subjected to.

  Mrs Robinson stops Dan when he mentions something about the care I was receiving whilst the abuse was going on. The statement mentions that my Key Workers missed vital opportunities to spot that something was wrong in my life, but Mrs Robinson wants Dan to put in the statement that Gillian was investigated internally and whilst some failings were found they were dealt with in house.

  I wonder why she wants that to be read out in court but then it dawns on me. She’s doing it to cover her own back. If Adam and his “friends” are convicted then there will questions to answer as to why a child in care was allowed to get into this situation.

  If Mrs Robinson gets in there first by saying the matter has already been looked into internally then her job and precious reputation are safe. Even though Gillian’s punishment consisted of her being shipped off to another section of the child care industry, or whatever it’s called, to underperform and impose her uselessness there.

  I consider saying something about what Mrs Robinson wants but Sandra doesn’t seem to be concerned about it. The way that she’s stuck-up for me over the past few weeks has been amazing. It’s almost like she’s telepathic. As soon as a thought enters into my head, but I can can’t get my words out to bring it to attention, Sandra is already making the same point. More often than not she gets her own way and Dan’s come to tread very carefully when he speaks in front of Sandra because he knows that she’s far too clever for him.

  When Dan’s finished reading out my witness statement his superior nods his head and smiles like he’s convinced he can see another large custodial sentence on his C.V. for a case that he’s worked on. I bet he wishes that it was the “good old days” then he could have his celebratory cigar inside instead of having to go outside.

  Mrs Robinson says that she’s finished with me for the day as well because she’s got to fill in the relevant paperwork to allow me to out for dinner with my own mum. Sandra yawns but apologises when I turn and look at her. I’ve no idea how long she’s been here already today but whenever it’s her shift she’s always here before I wake up and still here when I’ve gone to bed. I think she officially works 37.5 hours per week but some weeks she must be here 50 or 60 hours.

  I’ve no idea what kind of a state I’d be in without Sandra. I think the court case would still be going ahead but there’s no way I’d be feeling as confident about facing it without her. If I still had Gillian here then my witness statement would probably make me look like the most unreliable and attention seeking witness ever.

  Kate’s still on the scene but it’s good to use the days that she’s lurking around to be able to forget about certain things for a while. Attempting to do some work towards my GCSEs gives me something to do and Dan’s superior seemed impressed by it when Dan mentioned it in my statement so no doubt that’s some extra browning points gained with the jury.

  ‘What do you want for tea?’ Sandra asks.

  ‘What’s been specially prepared to meet the needs of The Others?’

  Sandra chuckles and says, ‘I think it’s some kind of stew. If you want that then you’ll have to eat it with them because I’m not risking sneaking it out again.’

  I’m now allowed proper plates and cutlery. Again, it’s another thing that has to be kept secret from The Others so I have to keep them in my room and normally have whatever Sandra brings with her from home or whatever Kate can be bothered to put in the microwave in the staff room for me. But it’s a small price to pay for a bit of normality.

  ‘It went well today, don’t you think?’

  I wonder for a moment whether Sandra means the meeting with Dan’s superior or if she means arranging a day out with Mum. But then I suppose it has. It’s definitely a step forward anyway. I just hope that I don’t spend the next few days retracing my steps.

  Chapter Ten

  I’ve become used to having personal tutors down the years with varying degrees of personality, and ability. The one I’ve got at the moment, Miss Baxter, has loads of personality, enough to keep The Others under control anyway, but the lessons don’t progress fast enough for me.

  In order to try and inject some kind of normality into our otherwise erratic lives, we have to attend a “school day” between normal school hours. We also get breaks and a dinner hour. I tend to go “home” for mine. Good work and behaviour is rewarded with some pointless treat like watching a DVD and bad behaviour is punished with extra “homework”. They stop short of making us wear a uniform, but apart from that, it’s the closest thing I’ve had to receiving a regular education for years.

  Even though it’s supposed to be compulsory for us to receive some form of schooling, despite our varying circumstances, it’s very rare for all five of us to attend on the same day. And on those days, like today, the vast majority of time is spent trying to keep control. Honestly, I’ve had orgasms last longer than The Biter’s attention span.

  Today we’re attempting to read Romeo & Juliet. Although we have to go at the pace of the slowest person, The Self-Harmer, and I swear that if she says “I don’t get it”, one more time then I’ll do an impression of The Biter. I feel like saying to her, “It’s Shakespeare, that’s the whole point” but I don’t want to sound like a clever little know it all. I’m by far the closest thing to a “swot” in this little school of delinquents so it’s not a tag that I want to be mark
ed with.

  Miss Baxter writes on the interactive white board, oh yeah, we have all the top of the range equipment, some of the themes of “love” in the play at a moronic pace. It’s all very good and well going through it in step-by-step parts like this if you just want to get an overview of certain parts of the play, but I’d like to be tested to see just how much of it I can decipher and how good at English I am compared with a “normal” teenager.

  Because the lessons are a bit slow then I’d rather use the dinnertime to go through things in more detail. However, this is where personality over teaching ability comes into play with Miss Baxter because she’d rather be “entertaining” The Others outside in the recreation of their natural habitat.

  I did ask her once, and she stayed inside for all of ten minutes until The Alcoholic questioned her “coolness”, or something important like that, and off she went outside to play. Now I just slide off unnoticed to my room and read a book or talk to Sandra if she’s working that day.

  ‘Have you ever been in love Miss?’ The Psychotic asks when she’s finished writing down some examples of Romeo’s attraction towards Juliet. We all know the answer but Miss Baxter still feels the need to remind us.

  ‘I suppose you could say I’m in love now, otherwise I wouldn’t be getting married next year.’

  Miss Baxter’s not exactly shy about telling us how smitten she is with her fiancée. She’s nearly 30 and has started filling out a bit but she’s always glad to tell us how she’s got everything in place in her life how she planned it. Personally, I find it a bit patronising but The Others seem to find it fascinating.

  ‘Okay, are we ready to move on to the next stanza?’ Miss Baxter asks.

  ‘Nooo,’ squeals The Self-Harmer, as she shakes her arm up and down as if that proves she’s been trying so hard all her muscles are on the verge of breaking down because of all the work.

  ‘Okay, you can have two more minutes,’ Miss Baxter says, as I let out a deep breath in frustration. Miss Baxter gives me a look, her way of asking me if there’s a problem, but I’m not in the mood for complaining. It wouldn’t do me any good because there’s no way that they’d be able to find a decent teacher willing to come and work in place like this because they’d all have jobs in a proper school.