by Peters, Joe
‘I don’t want to do it, Jake! I want to get out. They’re keeping me a prisoner.’
‘You have to do it–otherwise he is going to hurt you. Listen, he’s all right, this guy who’s coming. He’s a decent bloke. He’s a bit rough, but if you do what you’re told it shouldn’t be a problem.’
Realizing that he wasn’t getting anywhere with me, Jake went back to the door and tapped some prearranged signal. Max opened the door from the outside and I tried to go out with Jake.
‘Back,’ Max snarled and I could see he was going to hit me again if I disobeyed. The door shut behind Jake and the lock clicked again.
Max was back a few minutes later. ‘Just remember,’ he said, ‘respect. Respect–otherwise you are going to have me to deal with.’
The punter came in and Max introduced us and then left the room with a cheery ‘Enjoy yourselves’, locking us in as he went.
The guy looked about fifty years old to me, well groomed and dressed like any normal man from the street. He sat on the bed, patting a place next to him.
‘Come and sit with me,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to.’
‘I’m not going to hurt you. Just come and talk to me.’
I wondered if I might be able to talk him out of whatever he was planning to do to me, so I sat down gingerly beside him. He patted my knee.
‘We’ll just play around,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to do anything with you,’ I said. ‘I’m not like that.’
‘That’s not what Jake told me. He said you like all that stuff.’
I remembered how I had told Jake about things that had happened to me in the past. He must have told this guy that I’d had this sort of thing happen to me before, so I would know the score. He must have told Max all about it, and now they had told this guy. They thought because I had been groomed as a child it would just be a matter of easing me back into it. I couldn’t stop the tears from running down my cheeks as he started kissing me quite forcefully.
‘Just do what I tell you,’ he murmured into my ear, ‘and then I’ll be gone. You know you want this really.’
His breath stank of whatever he had eaten that day as he tried to kiss me on the mouth and I instinctively pushed him away. His hands were attempting to pull down my trousers as I tried to wriggle away from his powerful grip. There was a rap on the door and I heard Max’s voice on the other side.
‘Everything OK in there?’
‘No,’ the punter shouted back. ‘He’s playing me up.’
The door opened and Max came in with Brad right behind him. The punter jumped off me, his zip undone and his shirt hanging out, watching as the two of them gave me a real hiding on the bed, punching me in the stomach over and over again, throwing me around like a rag doll. They stripped me naked and then threw me back on the bed, leaving me gasping for breath and unable to move. All through the beating the punter was cheering them on, encouraging them to teach me a lesson I wouldn’t forget. Inside my head I had flashes of the time when Amani, my mum’s boyfriend, had first brought Uncle Douglas into a room with me. I was only nine years old then and weak with hunger and lack of exercise, but I’d still resisted Uncle Douglas’s advances. And Amani had beaten me in just the same way as Max and Brad were now doing. Was I never going to escape from these people? Was this sort of thing going to go on happening to me until someone eventually killed me or until I was so battered no one wanted to have anything to do with me any more?
My ribs felt as if they were broken and I could sense an asthma attack coming on as I battled to get some air into my lungs, to at least stay alive through the ordeal. When they were sure they had broken down any signs of resistance in me, Max and Brad went out and left the punter to do what he wanted. I could hardly breathe, and I didn’t have enough strength left to fight both the pain and the man. As I struggled for air, he rolled me on to my front and raped me. He had become so excited during the beating that it was all over in minutes and he dressed and left the room as if nothing unusual had happened. I could hear their voices talking about me outside.
‘This one is a good one,’ the punter was saying.
I lay still, shaking and crying from the shock, praying that the pain would pass, calling for Dad to get me out of that flat, not knowing whether Max was going to let me go now or whether I was doomed to stay locked in the room for days or weeks or months. About ten minutes later Max came back in, having seen his customer out of the flat, I guess.
‘You little bastard,’ he shouted. ‘I told you “respect”, didn’t I?’
He pulled his trousers down, pushed me hard down on to the bed and raped me too, a hundred times more violently than the punter had. I could tell he was doing it to teach me a lesson, to make sure that I never forgot what would happen to me if I ever disobeyed him again. The pain was so great that I was unable to stop myself from vomiting on the floor beside the bed as he climbed off me.
‘You dirty little bastard,’ he said contemptuously, banging on the door for Brad to let him out. I crawled into the corner of the room, still being sick as I struggled back into my clothes, terrified of what was going to happen next, feeling filthy and defiled.
Eventually Jake came back in.
‘Look what they’ve done to me, Jake,’ I said.
‘I know. Why didn’t you just do what the guy wanted, like I told you? Max is only being nasty to you because you’re not doing what you’re told. You won’t get paid for this now because you played up.’
‘Please get me out.’
‘I can’t. You’re going to have to be reasonable now and win Max over. I’ll have a word with him and try to get you out tonight. Just promise me you’re going to behave yourself.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, knowing now there was no point in fighting any more. ‘Tell Max I’m really sorry.’
He’d been told to clear up where I’d thrown up and then to leave me alone. Time passed as I waited for Max to cool down. I knew that my only chance of escaping with my life was to keep quiet and look as if they had broken my spirit. Once I was back on the outside I could think what to do about never letting myself get into a position like this again. Jake brought me some food and water, but I couldn’t face eating anything. A few hours later Brad came up to fetch me and I limped out behind him in a daze, terrified that I was going to get another beating.
The first thing I saw in the lounge was Max going through my bag. He looked up as I came in and waved Mohamed’s money at me.
‘Where did you get this, boy?’
‘You can have it. It was given to me when I come down.’
‘I don’t want your money, boy, as long as you behave and do what you’re told next time.’
‘Yeah, Max. I’m really sorry about that. I’ll do whatever you say next time.’
My only thought was to get out of the flat and away from Max. I would have said anything at that stage.
‘That’s what I wanted to hear,’ he said, grinning, shoving my money back into the bag. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a fiver. ‘And that’s for earlier.’ He put it into the bag too and tossed it across to me. I was shaking so much I almost dropped it.
‘Cool down, man,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for what I had to do to you, but you’ve got to understand, respect is what is needed. You work for me now. I’m your boss now.’
He gestured for me to sit down, as if I should be relaxing, but I couldn’t stop myself from flinching every time he walked past me, expecting to receive another smack. I was trying to decide what to do. Should I make a run for it? But I could hardly even walk, so they would easily catch me and then they would probably throw me over the balcony, or drag me back in and give me another beating. He brought me a glass of cider and told me to drink. My hand was shaking so much I couldn’t manage it, so he lifted it to my lips as if I was a baby. It tasted disgusting, but it dulled the pain a bit.
‘That’s my boy!’ he cheered as I drained it. He got me another and kept them coming until I ev
entually fell into a drunken sleep. It was as if I had passed some sort of test and now I could be one of them, getting drunk with them, passing out on the sofa with them.
Chapter Nine
The Great Escape
When I woke up I felt as if I’d been hit by a truck. ‘Come on, boy,’ Max said as he came into the room in his boxers and vest and saw me stirring. ‘Got a hangover, have you?’
‘Got a headache,’ I mumbled, flinching away from him.
‘Here. Take these.’ He gave me some pills, as if we were best mates and he was just helping me out, looking after me.
He was acting as if nothing unusual had happened, as if life in the flat was just going on as normal. Nobody said anything about me going and I didn’t dare to raise the subject for fear of angering him. I was just going to have to wait and see what happened.
‘We’re going out tonight,’ he told me halfway through the afternoon. ‘We’ve got a party to go to. One of my punters has asked me to bring a few boys to his place.’
I tried to sound as if that was a great idea, but I felt sick at the thought of why Max’s punters would want him to bring boys like me and Jake along. If there were a whole bunch of them, things could get really violent and unpleasant, as they used to on the weekends when I was kept at Uncle Douglas’s house. How was I going to get a chance to escape between now and then without getting another beating?
The afternoon dragged past as I tried to look as if I was relaxed and willingly fitting in with Max’s plans. Finally we left to go to the party. I was still having difficulty walking after the beating I had received the night before, and I felt sick with anxiety about what lay in store for me at our destination. As we walked out to the car, Jake said he had to stop by the Strand on the way to pick something up. Max was really pissed off at having his plans interrupted and tried to talk him out of it as we drove across London, but Jake insisted it would just take a minute. I guess Max still didn’t trust me not to try to do a runner and let him down with the punters he’d lined up for the night.
‘All right,’ he said eventually, gesturing towards me, ‘but he’s staying with me in the car.’
Before getting to the Strand we drew up at a street corner somewhere and another young lad jumped into the back of the car with me and Jake, squashing me in the middle. They all seemed to know him. He was sporting a black eye but looked more relaxed and accepting of the whole thing than I felt. I realized that Max must be running a whole string of rent boys and that he now considered me to be part of the business. Brad, the minder, was sitting in the front passenger seat beside Max. All my worst fears about being trapped in the back of a car were rising to the top of my brain. I was close to screaming but I held it together, knowing what would happen to me if I made any sort of fuss at all.
We reached the Strand and pulled over beside the kerb, as I had seen Max do before.
‘I won’t be a second,’ Jake said, and reached for the door lock. For some reason he was clutching my bag and I was frightened he was making off with my money now he knew it was there.
‘That’s my stuff,’ I protested.
‘You fucking stay there,’ Max snapped, swivelling in his seat and glowering at me.
As the car door opened, I spotted Jock hovering a few yards away in a shop doorway and made an instant decision. Barging past Jake, I started shouting.
‘Jock! Jock! Jock! Help me.’
Max and Brad were both out of the car within seconds as a puzzled-looking Jock lurched forward to see what all the fuss was about. Max tried to grab me, and even through the haze of drink that was obviously fogging his brain Jock instantly worked out what was going on, coming to my defence with a stream of swear words which brought others running across the street to back him up. Anyone who lives on the street likes a distraction from the boredom of the endless days and nights.
‘They’ve hurt me, Jock,’ I screamed. ‘They’ve hurt me.’
It all became confusing and noisy. There were fists and boots flying in every direction. Jock’s girlfriend, Charlotte, grabbed my hand in the middle of the turmoil and started to run, dragging me behind her. Jake must have decided he would be in trouble with Max and Brad too, because he came running after us. Maybe he didn’t want Jock to think he was siding with Max. As he came close, I lashed out at him in order to grab my bag, accidentally hitting him in the face with my elbow and sending him flying to the floor. My overriding instinct was to get away from Max and Brad, but I didn’t trust Jake either.
I was shaking with fear and gasping for breath, desperate to get clear of the lit street and to find somewhere to hide. Charlotte ducked down a side road, still holding on to my hand, and led me round to the back of the outreach centre, which was closed because it was a Sunday. There was a small fenced garden there with some bushes that we could hide in. She hustled me deep into the shrubbery and we both sat very still, listening for footsteps and shouting, and struggling to get our breath back.
‘What’s going on?’ I whispered after a few minutes of silence.
‘I’ll go and find out,’ she whispered back. ‘You stay here.’
‘No, don’t leave me.’ I grabbed her arm and hung on. I didn’t want to be left on my own. She must have seen how frightened I was because she gave me a little cuddle, which felt nice but didn’t help the fear.
‘It’s all right,’ she cooed. ‘You’re going to be all right.’
‘They’re gonna kill me,’ I kept saying, over and over again. ‘They’re gonna hurt me again.’
‘No, you’re safe now. Jock won’t let anything happen to you. We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?’
I didn’t answer because I was too embarrassed to admit that I had got into a car with Max after all the warnings I had been given, and I felt ashamed of the things that I had let them do to me. Charlotte didn’t push it; she probably knew enough to be able to guess most of it. About half an hour later there was a rustling in the bushes.
‘They’re coming to get me,’ I hissed, clinging even more tightly on to Charlotte’s arm, shaking and terrified for my life.
‘Shh,’ she said, trying to calm me. ‘No one knows about this place except us.’
The bushes parted and Jock appeared beside us, hauling Jake along with him by the scruff of his scrawny little neck. I didn’t want anything to do with Jake. I felt he had betrayed me and I believed he would do it again if he had a chance. Jock must have worked out exactly what had happened, because he threw Jake down on the ground and started laying into him, despite the fact that he was obviously pretty drunk. The rest of Jock’s gang were now weaving their way into the garden, asking me how I was, assuring me they would look after me now and cursing Max and Jake.
‘Now you give him a kicking,’ Jock told me, standing back from Jake, who was lying on the ground, curled up in a foetal position with his arms up to protect his head and face. As the fear in me subsided, the anger at what I had been put through at Max’s flat and how Jake had led me into it when he knew exactly what lay in store for me bubbled up to the surface and I laid into him in a blind rage. Jake stayed on the ground, curled up in a ball, knowing he had no choice but to take his punishment. I was sorry that doling it out didn’t make me feel any better.
It was getting late by then and the others were thinking about going in search of cardboard boxes and heading down to the park, where people would already be starting to construct their shelters for the night, laying claim to the best sites.
‘I don’t want to go out there,’ I told Jock. ‘Max is still going to be looking for me and I don’t want to be in a box on my own in the open, where he can just pull me out in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep. I want to stay here, where I can’t be seen. And I ain’t going to no soup kitchen where anyone might spot me.’
Jock was trying to focus his fuzzy brain on what I was saying, nodding sagely all the time, his eyes rolling about the place. I could see there was a limit to how far I could rely on him
to look after me.
‘All right,’ he slurred eventually. ‘Charlotte and a couple of the boys will stay here with you and the rest of us will go and find you some food and boxes. Then we’ll set up here for the night.’
The guys he left with me were as drunk and falling over as he was and probably wouldn’t have been much use if Max and Brad had turned up, but at least I wasn’t alone, and at least I was tucked away in a place where there were no casual passers-by.
‘I’ll have to leave London tomorrow,’ I told Charlotte as we waited. ‘Otherwise I’m going to be bumping into Max all the time and sooner or later he’s going to find a way to get me on my own without Jock around to protect me.’
‘There’s other places in London apart from Charing Cross,’ she assured me. ‘We’ll find you somewhere to go in the morning.’
I kept on insisting, because at that moment I wanted to be as far from London as I could possibly manage. I wished I knew of some other place to go that would be better.
By the time Jock got back with the cardboard and food I had managed to convince Charlotte that leaving the city would be for the best and she stuck up for me when Jock tried to dissuade me. When morning broke and we knew the centre would be open, I was still scared at the thought of leaving the safety of the bushes, even for the short walk round the corner in broad daylight.
‘What if Max is waiting there?’ I asked, shivering at the thought. ‘He knows that’s where we all go.’
‘He wouldn’t come there,’ Josh assured me. ‘He understands they’d kick him out. Everyone knows about him and what he’s about.’
Charlotte had already been in there ahead of us by the time Jock and I arrived and had told a Jamaican volunteer what had happened to me.
‘Let me talk to him,’ the guy had said.
The only black guy I had ever really known at that stage was Amani, the man who had been my uncle first, then moved in with my mother and become my main torturer and most regular rapist during my years imprisoned in the cellar. He and Mum had later sold me to punters in exactly the same way Max had. Having had no education in geography or history or anything else, I had no idea about where different people of different races came from; all I knew was that everything about this Jamaican guy brought back terrible memories of the things that Amani had done to me over the years, which was why I had been steering clear of him up till then. It was a purely instinctive animal fear that coursed through me when he came over to talk to me that day.