Abandoned Child

by Neale, Kitty

‘Oh Maureen, thank God it’s you,’ cried the girl. ‘Help me, get me inside, get me away from that maniac. He’s after me, I can’t take no more.’ She collapsed onto the pavement, while the rain continued to fall.

  ‘Get up, get up,’ Maureen urged her. ‘I can’t help you if you sit there. Come on. Give me your hand. Shit, look at your nails, you poor cow. Look, I’ll lift you by your arms if that hurts too much. Okay? That better? God, didn’t realise you was so heavy, you have been at the pies, haven’t you?’ Despite her best efforts Maureen was beginning to recognise that she couldn’t actually lift the girl. She was just contemplating taking off her high shoes and standing barefoot in the rain to have another go when there came the sound of running footsteps. Alarmed, she looked up, prepared for the girl’s attacker, but it was a female shape hurrying towards them.

  As the woman got closer Maureen was able to make out that it was a familiar figure – Juliet.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re doing here but help me, quick,’ gasped Maureen. ‘We got to get her inside. I can’t lift her on my own, she’s a dead weight.’

  Juliet didn’t seem to need to ask who it was, but just got on with the task in hand. ‘Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three. Up we go. Come on, Michelle, you’re safe now, we’ve got you. In we go.’

  With some difficulty they half-lifted, half-dragged the young woman into the club and sat her on the nearest chair.

  ‘Let’s get her cleaned up a bit,’ said Juliet. ‘All right, Michelle? We’re just going to wipe your face so you can see us better. Maureen, you stay with her while I get some towels and cotton wool from the make-up box.’

  Michelle made no attempt to reply as her friend hared down the corridor. Maureen was impressed despite herself – Juliet seemed to know exactly what to do.

  ‘You want to talk about it?’ she asked. ‘Up to you. I won’t blame you for nothing.’

  Michelle groaned, leant over and was violently sick all over Maureen’s shoes.

  ‘S— sorry,’ she moaned.

  ‘Don’t you worry about them,’ said Maureen gamely, ‘they was ruined anyway, what with all the rain tonight. I’ve been running round in them for hours and they hurt like the devil so they can go. You tell me what’s wrong if you like then we can work out how to help you.’

  ‘It … it was that bastard Silvio,’ wept Michelle. ‘You don’t know him but he was one of Rudolfo’s friends. I don’t know what he’d heard but he said … he said that he knew what I did with Rudolfo and he was going to have some of the same. And some more. When I said no, I didn’t like it, he raped me anyway. Then said there was no point in me complaining because I’m a dancer and everyone knew that was as bad as being a prostitute, so who was going to believe me? I started to scream and then he hit me, jeez, Maureen, I thought he was a little old chap but he was so strong and I couldn’t fight him off. Then I finally got away and come here. Ugh, I’m going to be sick again.’ Maureen hurriedly stepped back until the girl had finished. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ she asked pathetically, glancing up through one half-closed eye. ‘I didn’t want that. I thought it would be fun and he’d treat me like a princess, like what Rudolfo did, but he didn’t even pretend to be nice to begin with. He was a beast and I couldn’t do nothing. You do believe me?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Juliet, who’d returned with a tray of useful items. ‘Of course. Why would you make this up? Stay still, I’m going to wash your face.’ She began to dip cotton wool in a jug of warm water.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ wept Michelle. ‘I’m keeping you both up. But I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn’t go home looking like this and I was afraid he’d follow me. I couldn’t have my parents seeing me like this. Oh God, it’s all my own fault.’

  Juliet stopped what she was doing. ‘Look at me,’ she demanded. ‘Listen to me, Michelle, and listen well. Never, ever, ever say that. Never even think it. It is not, I repeat, is not, your fault. It is his fault. Nobody else’s. Get that in your head right now.’

  ‘But … but … he said I was asking for it,’ sobbed Michelle.

  ‘They always say that,’ snapped Juliet. ‘It’s utter crap. Asking to be raped? Asking to be beaten? Forget it. They’d love you to think that because it gets them off the hook. Well, you remember this: it is not your fault, it is his. Say it over and over until you get it into your head. Anything else is total bullshit.’

  Maureen had never seen Juliet so angry. In fact she’d never seen her anything other than cool and collected, no matter what was going on. But she had to admit she was glad the golden girl was there, as she seemed to be getting through to Michelle at last.

  ‘That’s right,’ Maureen agreed. ‘No such thing as asking for it. Yes, they’ll tell you that. But it’s not true. I know I’ve given you a hard time lately, Michelle, but you don’t deserve this – nobody does. Look, tell you what, we’ll make up a bed for you on the dressing room couch and you can kip there. Then you don’t have to go back out. We’ll stay here, won’t we, Juliet?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Juliet, resuming her careful wiping of her friend’s face. ‘Just get you cleaned up a bit more and then we’ll help you walk over there. It isn’t far. And then do you want us to call the police?’

  ‘Noooooooooo,’ moaned Michelle. ‘No, for God’s sake, don’t do that. I couldn’t stand it. They’ll say I was asking for it, no matter what you say, and then they’ll poke and pry and I’ll feel even more shit. I can’t go through with it. Don’t make me.’

  Juliet stepped back and sighed. ‘Nobody’s making you do anything. It’s up to you. You don’t have to decide now. Let’s get you over to the couch and make you comfy. Do you want to go to the bathroom? Shall I take you?’

  ‘Yes please,’ said Michelle and started to cry again.

  Maureen watched as they staggered to the bathroom, and then she began to clear up, using the rest of the warm water to wipe away the mess of sick and blood Michelle had left behind. She couldn’t say anything but was relieved they were out of sight, because what if Dave had called in the police about Eduardo and his gang? They wouldn’t be able to turn a blind eye if they saw the state of the girl and then the shit would well and truly hit the fan. So she wiped and scrubbed as fast as possible, trying not to gag on the smell. She’d have to say one of the punters must have been backstage and got out of hand if anyone asked.

  Satisfied that she’d done as much as she could, she walked barefoot over to the couch and hunted around for some drapes to serve as blankets. Luckily there were plenty, and lots of cushions were strewn about. At least Michelle could make herself comfortable and get a good night’s sleep, if she wasn’t too agitated. A nightcap would help – would help them all. She went over to a filing cabinet where Dave kept what he thought was a secret stash of whisky, and then rinsed out three glasses from the kitchen. When she returned to the makeshift bed, the young women were back and Michelle seemed a little calmer.

  ‘Thanks,’ she sniffed when Maureen poured her a generous double. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ She tossed it back. ‘Oh that’s good. Can I have another?’

  ‘You sure?’ asked Maureen dubiously. ‘Didn’t have you down as much of a spirit drinker.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Michelle. ‘If it’ll help wipe out the memories I’ll have the lot. That’s better. Shit, my head hurts. Think I’ll lie down. Do you mind? I think I’ll try to get some kip.’

  ‘We’ll leave you to it,’ said Maureen. ‘We’ll go and make ourselves comfortable in Mark’s corner. He’s got all the mod cons hidden around his table – kettle and everything, the sneaky bugger. You just give us a shout if you want anything.’

  She and Juliet crept away as Michelle snuggled down. They paused at the door of the dressing room for a moment and there came a little snore.

  ‘So tell me,’ said Maureen, lighting up and leaning on Mark’s worktable, ‘you were pretty good out there. I can’t think of anyone else who’d have taken charge like you did. You’ve done this before,
haven’t you?’

  Juliet looked away, her heavy blonde hair swishing like a curtain. She tipped her whisky back in one.

  Finally she nodded. ‘This goes no further, all right? I’m not very proud of what I’m going to tell you. But yes, I’ve been cleaning up after battered women for years, since I was a child, really. Or rather, not women. Just one woman.’ She swallowed hard. ‘My mother.’

  ‘Your mother?’ Maureen realised her mouth was hanging open. ‘What, wait a minute, how is that? That doesn’t make any sense?’

  ‘Sense?’ repeated Juliet. ‘Why does it have to make sense?’

  ‘But … but look at you, listen to you,’ said Maureen, trying to get her head around the revelation. ‘I’ve never met anyone as posh as you. Met plenty who’ve pretended to be, but you’re the real thing. I thought you was just a little rich girl running away from home, because that’s what they tease you about, isn’t it? Are you telling me that your mum gets beaten up? Is that what you’re running from?’

  ‘Sort of,’ snorted Juliet. She reached across and helped herself to one of Maureen’s cigarettes. ‘Do you mind? I’ve just managed to give up but under the circumstances …’ She lit up and sucked at the filter. ‘Took me ages to kick the habit and here I go, falling at the first fence. Never mind.’ She exhaled. ‘So, yes, my mother is a battered housewife. My father beats her – and has done for as long as I can remember. So when I had the choice I got out. Don’t get me wrong, I love dancing here, but I’d have had to have got out one way or another and I was damned if it was going to be the only way they approve of, which is marrying someone who might turn out to be every bit as violent as my dad. I couldn’t stand it any more. I couldn’t protect her, only patch her up, as you saw for yourself. I’ve had lots of practice at that. And she won’t go for help, she can’t bear to admit it. He’s cleverer than Michelle’s attacker, he only ever hits her where it won’t show. If she can’t walk properly she says she’s got arthritis. Which, given the amount of broken bones he’s given her, she probably has. The stupid thing is, I still love him, even though he’s a bastard. I love them both.’ Juliet stopped and Maureen could see her eyes were filled with tears. ‘Everyone thinks it doesn’t happen among the rich. But it does. They just have more money to cover it up.’ She smiled bitterly.

  ‘So how come you turned up tonight?’ demanded Maureen. ‘You been following Michelle or something? Did you know she was meeting this sick bastard?’

  ‘No, it was complete coincidence,’ admitted Juliet. ‘I was in Bar Italia, having a coffee. I can’t sleep much at the moment because it’s been getting much worse at home and I’m worried sick. So I go there once the bar at the club has closed and just try to get a bit of peace and quiet.’

  ‘In one of the busiest late-night spots in Soho?’ said Maureen, raising her eyebrows.

  ‘I know, I know, it sounds stupid, but it does the trick,’ said Juliet. ‘Anyway, there I was, watching the rain, when I saw Michelle stumbling by. I caught a glimpse of her face and saw she’d been hit, though I didn’t realise it was as bad as it was. She was going so fast it took me until she got here to catch her up. You know the rest.’

  ‘Lucky you was there,’ said Maureen. ‘Don’t think I could have managed her alone. Couldn’t even lift the poor sod. At least we got her comfortable for now. We’ll tackle the rest in the morning. Don’t suppose she’ll feel much like dancing tomorrow.’

  ‘Don’t suppose anyone will feel like paying to see her,’ Juliet replied brutally. ‘That’s the truth of it. Funny old business, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t even want to think about it,’ sighed Maureen. ‘I reckon I’ll just try to kip down here and let it all wait until the morning.’

  ‘What about Penny?’ asked Juliet. ‘Is she all right in the flat by herself?’

  ‘Mark’s there,’ Maureen told her, and then it all came rushing back to her. ‘Oh God, that’s another story. You’d better hear all about it. But that can definitely wait until tomorrow.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  By the next morning the rain had stopped and Juliet found herself despatched on a series of errands for Maureen. ‘I can’t go nowhere in me bare feet,’ she’d pointed out. ‘Can you go round to the flat and pick up some shoes for me? Get the blue ones, Penny or Mark will know which they are. And then we’d better get some clothes for that poor cow asleep on the couch. Mine won’t fit her and Penny’s definitely won’t so you better get her something down the market.’ She fished in her bag for some money. ‘Here you are, don’t get her none of that cheap nylon shit or she’ll feel we’re punishing her. Find her something that is easy to put on so she won’t have to use her arms too much, they’re that bruised.’

  Juliet wandered around the stalls, surprised that the hard-faced Maureen had put so much thought into what she was to get. Everyone now thought that Maureen and Michelle were sworn enemies, but last night had shown that wasn’t so. Juliet wondered about the woman’s reaction; she’d immediately recognised that Juliet had seen this sort of thing before. Was Maureen familiar with it too? Maybe it was better not to ask.

  Maureen had also filled her in about Penny’s narrow escape. ‘Don’t tell her you know unless she mentions it first,’ the woman had said. ‘She’ll be upset and thinks you’ll blame her for promising to date a punter.’

  Well, she wasn’t far wrong, thought Juliet. She’d wanted to believe the girl when she’d protested that she had no interest in men, but it just went to show, along comes a good-looking charmer and all the promises go out of the window. She mustn’t say I told you so, though that was exactly what she felt like doing.

  ‘You all right, love?’ shouted the man behind a vegetable stall – the one who was friendly with Penny and Maureen. What was his name? Jimmy, that was it. She’d better snap out of it, things were coming to something when stall holders noticed how distracted she was.

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ Juliet called back. ‘Just daydreaming. Now I think about it, maybe you can help me.’ She walked over to the brightly coloured stall, laden as always with a huge variety of fruit and veg. ‘My friend Penny isn’t feeling too great. What can I take her to cheer her up?’

  ‘That lovely Penny, the tall one?’ asked Jimmy. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. She’s one of my best customers, she is. Can’t resist buying something new when she sees it. She’ll try and cook anything, that one.’

  ‘Don’t think she’ll feel much like anything new today,’ said Juliet.

  ‘She’s always on about Spain, ain’t she?’ said Jimmy. ‘I know, I got just the thing. Give her some of these oranges.’ He picked up a plastic bowl full of them. ‘She’ll like these, I know it.’

  ‘She will,’ said Juliet, reaching for the fruit which Jimmy had tipped into a bag. ‘How much?’

  ‘No, these are on me,’ he insisted. ‘Lovely oranges from Seville, full of flavour and goodness. That’ll see her right. I don’t want no payment for that. You just tell her to get better.’

  ‘That’s really kind of you,’ beamed Juliet. ‘She’ll be delighted.’ Making her way along to the clothing stalls she thought about the irony of it. Penny had made a big enough impression on the tough-sounding stall holder that he knew her likes and dislikes and was prepared to give her a present, but when it came to choosing a boyfriend she’d ended up with a lying criminal. Life wasn’t fair.

  ‘Do you give presents to all the girls?’ asked a dark-haired man who’d been looking at Jimmy’s stall. ‘You’ll never earn your fortune that way.’

  ‘Nah, just to the special ones,’ sighed Jimmy. ‘That young lady needs looking after. And don’t you go telling your dad what I did or word’ll get round the markets and they’ll think I’ve gone soft. Can’t be having that.’

  Maureen stuck her head round the door of the dressing room but Michelle was fast asleep and snoring loudly. Good, she thought. Let her sleep in, best thing she could do. It was still early enough that nobody else would be in for some while. Once Juliet returne
d with her shoes, she could go back to the flat and maybe ask Mark to come and stand guard so that the girl had a few more hours undisturbed. But even before that, there was one person who’d have to be told, or at least given an edited version, and she might as well do it in her bare feet. It wouldn’t go down well, however she was dressed.

  ‘Bleedin’ hell, Maureen, no sooner do you solve one of my problems than you bring me another,’ shouted Dave, foul-tempered as always in the morning. He wasn’t so keen on making up to her now, she noticed. Things were back to normal. ‘So you mean to tell me we’re now two dancers down? What’s that going to look like?’

  ‘You’re all heart, that’s your trouble,’ Maureen shouted back. ‘She hasn’t done a runner, she hasn’t flouted herself with one of the punters in front of the whole bar; the poor kid’s been beaten up through no fault of her own. So you can try looking sympathetic for once, if you can remember how.’

  ‘Sympathy won’t get me a replacement dancer,’ he snarled. ‘But you will, won’t you? From that little stable of yours down the back alley?’

  ‘Look on the bright side,’ she said. ‘With two down we can still do the same routines because it’ll be symmetrical.’ She was disgusted to see he did indeed brighten up at this thought. ‘And then I can look at finding you two more to go in the line.’ She sighed. She still had to break it to Penny that she wouldn’t be dancing again in the near future. ‘So, tell me, how did it go when you had a word with the authorities? Did they do what you wanted?’

  ‘Nothing’s definite but I got a shedload of brownie points,’ beamed Dave, showing his tobacco-stained teeth. ‘That turned out to be the best piece of news in a long time.’

  ‘Maybe we should advertise for more criminals,’ suggested Maureen. ‘Get them to pass the word round Parkhurst and Pentonville. They can come here on the day of their release, we’ll do them a special deal.’

  ‘Oh no, Maureen, I don’t think that’d work,’ said Dave, not getting the joke. ‘If that’s the best you can do you’d better piss off and let me up the ante on those Ashdown conmen.’