The Taken

by Casey Kelleher

  Seeing the mood Vincent was in, Misty and Saskia didn’t argue. Fetching their shoes and jackets they did as they were told without so much as a word, while Vincent stood pacing the kitchen.

  He should have known that something like this would happen. He should never have let the girl out of his sight. She was his only lead to finding that bastard Korab and he’d only gone and fucking lost her. Another fuck-up to add to his growing collection.

  He needed to find her and fast; otherwise his brother would have his fucking nuts for this.

  33

  Huddling inside the shop’s doorway Lena didn’t bother to make herself comfortable. There was no point. She’d done that in the first one only to be shooed away.

  She wasn’t welcome, here, or anywhere. It hadn’t taken her long to work that out. People around here didn’t seem to care that it was pouring down, that she was soaking wet, or that she had a baby to care for. They saw her only as vermin. To them she was just unwanted rubbish cluttering up their doorways.

  The last man had been horrible to her. Threatening, aggressive. Lena had thought that the shop was closed: its steel shutters were down; the lights all switched off. She thought that she’d be safe to seek refuge in the doorway. Grateful for some respite from the treacherous rain, she’d huddled at the back trying to keep Roza dry.

  No sooner had she sat down she’d been back up on her feet again: the door behind her swinging open, the aggrieved shopkeeper shouting abuse and obscenities at her, moving her on.

  ‘Dirty immigrant, tramp, scrounger.’

  He was saying what everyone she passed was thinking. At least earlier, when the shops had been open she hadn’t stood out so much. Lena had taken her time, wandering into every shop. Trying her best to stay out of the rain, to keep Roza as warm and dry as possible. She’d managed to blend in with the rest of London’s shoppers, but it hadn’t stopped the dirty looks. She could see the suspicion on people’s faces. A foreigner that didn’t belong here. A shoplifter, a pickpocket.

  She felt guilty then. That’s exactly what she had become.

  She still couldn’t believe that she’d left her bag behind in Misty’s flat. She’d left the flat in such a rush to get away before Vincent arrived that she just hadn’t thought straight, and by the time she’d realised it was too late. She couldn’t go back for it. Vincent would have caught her.

  She’d felt sick about it all day. How could she have left something so important behind? She’d tried breast-feeding, but her milk had completely dried up now.

  Screaming hysterically, Roza had been hungry. The nappy she had on was soiled. Lena had been forced to steal then. Taking her chance in a chemist, while the old lady behind the counter had her back turned, she’d grabbed a baby’s bottle, some cartons of ready-made formula, and shoved a pack of nappies under her arm, then she’d ran, the woman’s voice shouting after her.

  Consumed with remorse afterwards, Lena’s only consolation was that at least Roza had eaten. She’d been desperate. She’d had no choice.

  Back outside in the rain now, the shops were all closing up for the night. It was getting dark.

  Peering out from her soggy hood, the rain continued to fall mercilessly around her.

  Lena stared over to the tall white building across the road; the warm yellow glow of light spilling out like a beacon against the blackening skies, making the police station look suddenly inviting.

  Inside, she could see people moving about. Answering phones, tapping away on their computers.

  Battling with her conscience, Lena didn’t know what to do. Ramiz had warned her that the authorities wouldn’t help her, and the nurses at the hospital had proved him right, but she was slowly running out of options. She thought about telling the police about Ramiz. About how he had kidnapped her. How he had drugged their daughter. Maybe they would believe her?

  Jumping as a sudden clap of thunder exploded above her head, Lena looked up, startled by the vivid flash of lightning that ripped through the dark, heavy clouds.

  The rain came down faster then. Lashing, torrential.

  She couldn’t stay out here much longer. Roza was tired, hungry, and cold, crying once more, Lena held onto her tightly; her arm swaddled around her child down inside her jumper in a desperate bid to try to soothe her. She wanted to break down and cry alongside her too.

  She was so tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding.

  Taking one last glance up at the black sky that loomed above her, the thick heavy clouds, the downpour that showed no sign of easing off anytime soon, she took a deep breath and made a run for it. Weaving in and out of the traffic that was at a standstill in the busy London road, her feet splashed in the puddles, water slapping against her legs as she ran.

  The flat ballet pumps that Misty had given her were soaked through, the leather cutting into her skin. Blistered and raw she winced with every step she took.

  It didn’t help that she’d been walking around in them all day, round and round, in aimless circles. Getting nowhere fast. The pain was excruciating now. Yet it was the only part of her that she could still feel.

  Soaked through to the skin and shivering from the cold, every other part of her was numb.

  Running up the flight of steps that led to the main doors, she pulled the big glass door back and stepped inside; the sound of the rain silenced now. Replaced with voices. Lena took in the sea of miserable-looking faces ahead of her occupying the row of chairs that lined the wall in the reception.

  There was a man standing behind the desk talking to a woman. Walking towards them, Lena waited her turn. Pulling the soggy hood off her head, she was glad of the warmth of the place if nothing else.

  Roza was still crying, but it was more of a grizzle now. Her eyes were closing, her mouth tightly clamped around her new dummy. Lena willed her to sleep, just as the lady in front of her shouted loudly, making both Lena and Roza jump once again.

  ‘I want someone out here now to tell me why my Jack’s been fucking arrested. He ain’t done nothing wrong. Haven’t you lot got anything better to do than lock up innocent boys? No wonder there’s so many fucking criminals out there.’

  Lena could smell alcohol emanating from her. The bitter acidic smell was so strong the woman could have bathed in the stuff. Staggering, unbalanced, she stepped back, causing Lena to step back too, out of her way.

  ‘Your Jack isn’t exactly an angel is he my love?’ The man behind the desk laughed. ‘He’s in here that often that the custody officers are thinking of inviting him to our Christmas party… ’

  ‘Oh, you’re a fucking comedian an’ all! Well, doesn’t that make a change. A bit of variety from the usual clowns you get working in here.’

  ‘Why don’t you go and take a seat, Mrs Andrews? Someone will be with you shortly to deal with your enquiry.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll go and sit nicely in the corner if you go and fuck yourself. How about that huh?’ the woman squawked.

  The woman was shouting now. The drink fuelling her temper, she was making a scene. Aware that she had all eyes on her, she wasn’t going to let the officer get the better of her.

  ‘I’m not going to ask you again, Madam. Take a seat or you’re going to find yourself arrested too, for being drunk and disorderly.’ The officer sounded bored now, and his patience was wearing thin.

  ‘Oh you’d fucking love that wouldn’t you,’ the woman shrieked, slamming her fist against the protective glass in front of the man. ‘Two for the fucking price of one. Mother and son. What are you? On some kind of fucking commission? Fucking jobsworth prick.’

  ‘That’s it. I warned you,’ the officer said.

  Everything happened so quickly then.

  The officer pressed an alarm and two officers came rushing out to the reception.

  Pushing the woman down to the ground, they managed to restrain her, before dragging her back up onto her feet and leading her away through the side door.

  Clutching
Roza to her protectively, Lena had stood right back, out of the way.

  Shocked at what she had just witnessed, the voice behind the desk pulled her back from her thoughts.

  Looking down at Roza, Lena started to doubt herself. What if the police didn’t help? What if they punished her, accused her of being a bad mother? What if they took Roza away from her and sent her home back to Albania without her?

  She’d been stupid to come here.

  There was too much at risk.

  ‘Miss?’ the officer repeated, looking down at the baby in her arms. His face concerned now. ‘Can I help… ?’

  ‘No sorry, I shouldn’t be here… I made a mistake—’ Before she finished the sentence Lena had already turned on her heel to leave. She could hear the man still talking to her, confusion in his voice as he called after her.

  Grabbing at the door, Lena ran down the steps. Soon she was back out on the street again; standing in the middle of the pathway as people rushed past her under the shelter of their umbrellas as if she was invisible. Next to her, on the road, cars lined up bumper to bumper, making their way home. Back to the warmth of their houses. Back to their families. Faces peering out, looking right through her.

  She was back to where she started. Back out on the busy London street, out into the pouring rain. No idea what to do, or where to go next.

  She had absolutely nothing now. No one to help her and nowhere to go.

  For a second she thought about Ramiz. Maybe he was her only option? At least, if she went back to him Roza would have somewhere warm and dry to stay. They’d both have food to eat.

  Even in her complete desperation she knew that she couldn’t go through with it though. Ramiz was dangerous. Reckless. He had already almost killed Roza once, and Lena had no intention of ever giving him another opportunity to hurt their daughter. She was going to have to find her own way now.

  Somehow.

  Out here on London’s streets.

  Surrounded by people, so many people, but completely and utterly alone.

  34

  ‘We’re not going to find her, you know; she could be anywhere by now.’

  Vincent Harper may have the hump, but he didn’t have anything on Misty’s sulky mood. Annoyed that she’d been lumbered with some strange girl and her baby all night, not only did she have to give up her bed for the girl, now she was having to spend her day traipsing around half of London looking for her too.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw it was almost six p.m.; they’d been searching for Lena all day. She wasn’t in the mood for this shit anymore.

  ‘Did I ask for your opinion?’ Vincent spat. ‘Just keep your gob shut and your eyes open. Do you think you’re capable of doing that much, at least?’

  Turning back to the busy road in front of him, Vincent slammed his foot on the brakes and bellowed just as an elderly man stepped out in front of his Range Rover. ‘Get out the way you fucking cockblanket!’ Vincent wasn’t in the mood for any of this shit today either. Joshua was going to have the raging hump when he found out that he’d somehow allowed the girl to give him the slip. He was already treading a thin line with him as it was – he couldn’t afford anymore fuck-ups.

  He needed to find the girl, fast.

  ‘Besides, how far is she going to get, huh? She’s got no fucking money and a sprog in tow.’

  Pursing her lips and folding her arms, Misty shrugged. It was clear that Vincent wasn’t giving up his search anytime soon.

  ‘Who knows, but we’ve already looked everywhere. Twice. We’re going to have to call it a day soon though; we’re both working tonight. Joshua will do his nut if I’m not there to sort the girls out,’ Misty reasoned.

  Vincent bit his lip. He knew Misty was right and that just irked him even more.

  He’d been driving around for hours, getting this pair of dozy cows to search in almost every coffee shop, park and public toilet this side of the river, and it was turning out to be a complete waste of time. The girl had completely disappeared off the radar.

  She’d vanished into thin air; but there was no way that Vincent was going back to the club without her.

  ‘We ain’t fucking stopping until we find her,’ he snarled. ‘Now shut your trap and keep a fucking look out, there’s a good girl.’

  Misty looked at Saskia now and shrugged. Vincent was a stubborn bastard.

  ‘Well, you can explain to Joshua why we’re late then.’

  ‘Oh I’ll explain all right. It wouldn’t surprise me if you two had a hand in all this anyway. I mean, why else would the girl do a runner? Are you sure you didn’t put the idea in her head? What did she say to you both? And don’t give me no more of your claptrap; she must have said something.’

  ‘’Course we didn’t say anything. Why would we get involved with some random girl? We got enough of our own shit to worry about… ’

  Leaning her head against the window, Saskia tried to zone out as Misty and Vincent continued to argue amongst themselves. It was the third time they’d driven down Wandsworth Road now and Saskia was busy distracting herself by staring out at all the passers-by. Watching them all laughing and talking as they bustled up the high street, window shopping, strolling in and out of cafés. Carefree.

  Saskia couldn’t help but feel envious of them. Just normal people, living their normal lives. She’d been like that not long ago, until she’d found herself trapped into this crazy world. What the fuck was she doing mixed up in all this?

  She missed her dad so much right now. He had been her rock. If he was here, he’d know what to do. She sighed then, shaking her head, as the realisation hit her. It was because of her dad that she was in this mess in the first place.

  Staring across the road, something caught her eye.

  A girl. Standing in a shop doorway. Her hood pulled up obscuring her face. Holding a baby in her arms.

  It was Lena. Saskia was sure of it. She was standing thirty feet away from them, while Vincent obliviously continued his lecture.

  Suspicious of her and Misty’s involvement in Lena running, he wasn’t going to let up. ‘If I find out you two girls helped her, I swear to God, this will not end up pretty for you—’

  ‘She’s there. Look! I see her. That’s Lena. She’s just gone into the underground… Stop the car.’ Sitting forward in the seat now, suddenly alert, Saskia was pointing ahead of them, towards Vauxhall Tube Station.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Vincent asked, taking no time in waiting for Saskia’s answer as he cut across the traffic coming the opposite way and pulled up outside the station.

  ‘It was her. I’m sure of it. She’s wearing a big oversized navy jumper, with the hood pulled up.’

  ‘My bloody jumper,’ Misty mumbled.

  Vincent grinned. Pulling his car up on the kerb, he ignored the disgruntled drivers beeping their horns behind him. Maybe he’d been wrong about these dumb bitches. Maybe they hadn’t helped Lena after all.

  ‘Get your fucking arses out then and go and fetch her,’ he ordered. Then, opening his door he added, ‘on second thoughts, fuck that! You two fucking muppets can stay here and keep an eye on the motor. You’ll only end up losing her again otherwise. I’ll go and get the girl my fucking self.’

  35

  Someone was shouting.

  Fuck!

  The thunderous voice was so loud that it penetrated through the floorboards; even from upstairs in one of the bedrooms Kush Malik could hear the commotion clearly.

  It was Ramiz. Drunk, sounding off again. The man was out of control. Only this time Kush had a feeling that the man had really lost it. He was bellowing about something.

  Hurrying down to the bar Kush rounded the corner, only to be met with the sight of a paralytic Ramiz leaning over the pool table, pinning down one of Kush’s regular customers by his throat with a pool cue.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ Kush shouted now as he took in the scene before him. Ramiz was out of control. His face puce with rage; spittle shooting from his lips as he shoute
d wildly in the man’s face. ‘Ramiz, what are you doing?’ Wiping the sweat that had gathered on his forehead, Kush winced as he heard the nerves in his own voice.

  He hated himself for being so weak, but that’s exactly what he was. He was powerless. This was his pub. His venture. He’d worked hard to build up his business.

  Yet Ramiz was destroying it all. Fuelled with anger at Lena disappearing, the man had become unbearable. He did nothing but drink all day and throw his weight around.

  That’s why Kush had retreated upstairs to one of the rooms, to get away from the man – only it seemed Ramiz had no intention of letting Kush have any peace.

  ‘This man refuses to pay, so I’m teaching him a lesson… he needs to learn some respect. Remember who he is dealing with… ’ Ramiz sneered over his shoulder to Kush, while jabbing the pool cue down harder against the man’s windpipe.

  The man was thrashing about wildly under Ramiz’s weight as he fought to breathe, his face going bright red under the strain, but Ramiz didn’t seem to notice or care. He was beyond reasoning. A law unto himself, he was now taking out all his pent-up anger on one of Kush’s customers.

  ‘There must be some kind of a mistake,’ Kush said, desperate to talk Ramiz down. ‘This man is one of my most loyal customers. He has been coming to the pub every week. He’s never given me any kind of trouble, Ramiz. He always uses the same girl. Pays the same price.’ Kush was shouting now. Desperate to make Ramiz listen to him before he ended up killing the man. He already looked close to losing consciousness, his eyes bulging in his head.

  ‘Enough, Ramiz. You’ve taught him a lesson.’

  To Kush’s surprise, Ramiz did as Kush asked and let go. The man rolled away from Ramiz to the other side of the table, rubbing his throat as he greedily sucked at the air around him.

  Wheezing, strained, finally he spoke. ‘You nearly fucking killed me?’