The Driver

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘Him?’ Carl repeated disbelievingly. ‘Come on, mate, do you think I fell out of the stupid tree? Blokes don’t go out in the middle of the night to see a him. You’ve got a bird waiting for you, haven’t you?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Joe said evasively.

  ‘Dirty dog.’ Carl grinned, slapping him on the back as he came inside. ‘I knew you had it in you. Just don’t go doing anything Mel won’t let me do.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Joe assured him, rinsing out his cup at the sink. ‘You can let everyone out, can’t you?’

  ‘Sack that,’ Carl scoffed. ‘I’m off to see if Mel’s still awake. I’m not having you getting laid if I can’t.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Joe chuckled as he headed into the living room.

  Carl clapped his hands loudly as he followed him in. ‘Party’s over, guys! My man’s got a hot date and we’re cramping his style, so come on . . . move it!’

  Joe smiled as the guys gathered their things together without argument and started traipsing out, all of them either shaking his hand or slapping him on the back as they went and telling him to have one for them.

  He was still smiling as he headed down to the car a few minutes later, amused that they had all been so surprised to hear that he was going to see a woman. Although it made him wonder what the hell they thought of him if it was such an unexpected event that they felt the need to congratulate him. Carl joked about him being gay, but could they really have been suspecting that he was this whole time? If so, it was great that they were being so chilled about it, because people who lived in places like this usually had a reputation for being outspokenly anti-everything. But he supposed it just went to show that nothing was ever quite what it seemed from the outside.

  Including the situation of the girl he was hoping to see again now. Although what he would say when he found her, he didn’t know.

  Katya had felt rough all day and she was no better by the time she and the other girls reached town. She’d thought that the infection from which she’d been suffering on and off for the past few months had cleared up, but it had kicked in again that morning and her bladder was aching now because the burning pain made her terrified to go to the toilet. And, thanks to that man headbutting her last night, both of her eyes were black and swollen. But at least her nose didn’t appear to be broken, so that was something to be thankful for.

  When the girls had separated at the entrance to Piccadilly Station and gone off to their individual spots, Katya had put her head down and rushed past Dale Street, afraid to look as she passed in case the man was still lying there, even though she knew that it was extremely unlikely.

  The new spot she’d found for herself that morning was more exposed because it was closer to the town centre, which put her at more risk of being spotted by the police. But she figured she’d be safer there if that man came looking for revenge because he’d have to think twice about attacking her if he thought that somebody might see.

  Keeping an eye out for him now as she settled into the doorway, Katya felt the ice of fear in her heart when, within minutes, a car pulled up at the kerb ahead. Relieved to see an unfamiliar young man smiling hopefully out at her, she almost returned the smile as she climbed in beside him.

  Almost – but not quite. Because no matter how young and innocent he looked, she knew that he would still cause her pain. And she was right. Although, unlike most of the men she had to deal with, this one had come prepared, and the lubricated condom eased his passage into her considerably. But the friction had still exacerbated her pain and she knew it would only get worse as the night progressed.

  Katya soon realised that she’d picked out a busy spot for herself when a second car came along almost as soon as the first one had dropped her back in the doorway, quickly followed by a third and a fourth. At just over an hour in, she’d have been lucky to have had one punter down on Dale Street so she was already well up on her usual. But just as she was beginning to think that she could weather the pain for the increase in earnings, the two girls who had been watching her from the shadows on the opposite side of the road decided that it was time for her to move on.

  ‘What d’y think you’re doing, standing round here?’ one of them demanded when they marched over to confront her. ‘This is our street, so fuck off and find your own.’

  More scared of being forced to go back to Dale Street than she was of them, Katya stood her ground. ‘You’ve got that side, I’ve got this,’ she pointed out reasonably. ‘I’m not doing any harm.’

  ‘You ain’t listening, darlin’,’ the second girl informed her aggressively. ‘We said fuck off. And we ain’t messing about, so do one before I slice your fucking face open.’

  Catching a flash of light out of the corner of her eye, Katya glanced down and swallowed nervously when she saw the razor blade in the girl’s hand. ‘Okay, I’m going,’ she murmured, taking a step back.

  ‘Not so fast,’ the first girl said, gripping her by the arm. ‘What you got for us first?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Katya lied. ‘I’ve only just got here.’

  ‘Don’t try and mug us off, you foreign bitch,’ the girl hissed. You’ve already nicked four of our jobs, so we’ll have that money for starters. And where’s your phone?’ she demanded.

  ‘And your drugs,’ the other one said, glancing furtively around. ‘Come on, hand everything over. And hurry up, we ain’t got all night.’

  ‘I haven’t got a phone, and I don’t do drugs,’ Katya protested, struggling to fend them off as they tried to search her pockets.

  ‘Is that right?’ the first girl said, closing in with a nasty sneer on her lips. ‘Or is it that you just don’t like sharing where you come from? What are you, anyhow? A Pole? We hate Poles round here. Nicking our punters with your cheap nasty arses.’

  ‘She ain’t legal, whatever she is,’ the second girl said knowingly. ‘Want us to ring the pigs, do you, darlin’?’

  Desperate to get away now, Katya tried to push past them. But they weren’t letting her go that easily, and she cried out when they shoved her deeper into the doorway and her back slammed up against the large brass doorknob.

  Hissing, ‘Shut your fucking mouth!’ the girl with the blade slashed at her leg. ‘And get your money out. We know you’ve got it. Don’t make us have to strip you for it.’

  Shocked by the feel of blood trickling down her leg, Katya instinctively kicked out, catching one of the girls on the shin.

  ‘You’re fucking dead!’ the other one snarled, laying into Katya with her fists and battering her about the head and shoulders as her friend hopped around in pain.

  Katya tried to fight back, but when the other girl recovered and joined in she knew she stood no chance, so she threw her arms over her head and sank to the floor.

  Just as she thought they were never going to stop, a car screeched to a stop, and a man yelled, ‘Oi! Pack it in, you two!’

  Hesitating, one of the girls glanced around to make sure that it wasn’t the police while the other one kept a firm grip on Katya. Seeing that it was just an ordinary bloke, she said, ‘Fuck off. This has got nowt to do with you.’

  ‘You reckon?’ Joe said, getting calmly out of the car and walking towards them.

  Facing up to him, the girl looked him up and down. ‘So what are you? Her man, or something?’

  ‘Do I look like a pimp?’ Joe asked, knowing that that was what she’d meant.

  Something in his icy stare unnerved the girl and after a couple of seconds she jerked her head at her friend. ‘Come on, leave it.’

  Joe watched until they had gone and then turned to see if Katya was all right. Having seen the state of her last night, he’d known that she would have at least one black eye but he was shocked to see how bad she looked now. Both of her eyes were badly bruised, and her lip was freshly split. And there were clumps of her long hair all over her jacket and the floor, and a streak of blood running down her bare leg.

  ‘Christ, what did they do to you?’ he asked, reaching
out to her.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Katya muttered, jerking away from him. Pulling her sleeve down over her hand now, she dabbed at her lip before gingerly examining her leg. Relieved to see that the cut was superficial, she raised her chin proudly. ‘You didn’t need to get involved. I can look after myself.’

  Joe raised an eyebrow, as if to say Are you sure about that?

  ‘Really, I can,’ she insisted, smoothing her hair down. ‘You can go now.’

  ‘I think you should get that cut looked at,’ Joe told her. ‘Why don’t you let me take you to hospital? It’s only five minutes away.’

  ‘No!’ Katya blurted out. ‘It’s just a scratch. I’ll put a plaster on it when I get home.’

  ‘Okay, if that’s what you want,’ Joe said, aware that he couldn’t force her. Feeling awkward now, because she clearly wasn’t pleased to see him, he said, ‘Can we talk?’

  ‘Why?’ Katya looked at him with suspicion.

  ‘Because I’m worried about you.’

  Unable to hold his gaze, Katya dipped hers. He sounded sincere, and the kindness in his eyes was making her heart flutter painfully. But her head wouldn’t allow her to believe that he was here of his own accord. It was too much of a coincidence that he should just happen to be passing at the exact time when she was being attacked – just like Eddie had turned up out of the blue last night.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said.

  ‘Will you at least tell me your name?’ Joe called after her as she hurried past him. ‘Please. I’d really like to know.’

  Katya hesitated, wondering why Eddie wouldn’t have already told him if he’d sent him to spy on her. But then, Eddie so rarely spoke to the girls that it wouldn’t surprise her if he’d forgotten.

  Taking heart from the fact that she’d stopped walking, Joe stepped around her so that he was facing her again and held out his hand. ‘I’m Joe.’

  ‘You already told me,’ she murmured, folding her arms.

  ‘I know, but I didn’t know if you’d heard me,’ Joe said. Sighing now, unsure what else he could say to convince her that he meant her no harm, he spread his hands. ‘So what do we do now?’

  ‘You should go,’ Katya replied wearily. ‘I’ve got to work, and I’m sure you must have something better to do.’

  ‘Not really,’ Joe told her. ‘I came to find you because . . . well, because I want to talk to you – to find out more about you. But if you’re too busy right now, why don’t you call round to my place when you’ve got the time? I live on the third floor, number three-twelve.’

  ‘That’s not possible,’ Katya murmured.

  ‘Well, how about meeting up and going out for a coffee?’ Joe suggested.

  Confused by his persistence, Katya gazed up at him. ‘Why are you doing this? You must know I can’t do what you’re asking of me.’

  ‘Why not?’ Joe frowned. ‘It’s only a coffee. And I didn’t mean when you’re working. I meant some time when you’re free and feel like having a chat.’

  Katya felt the terrible pain of longing pulse through her body. She so wanted to believe that she could trust him. But it would be a huge mistake to even think about getting involved with anybody from the outside world, because one wrong word would bring everything crashing down not just on her head but Elena’s and the other girls’ too. And, worse, their families would suffer terrible things.

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this,’ she mumbled, blinking quickly to hold the tears at bay. ‘Please just leave me alone and forget about me.’

  ‘If it was that easy, don’t you think I’d have done it by now?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Not if Eddie has told you to watch me,’ she replied flatly. ‘That is why you’re here, isn’t it?’

  ‘No.’ Joe shook his head. ‘He’s got absolutely no idea that I’ve spoken to you. I’m here because I’ve been thinking about you all night, wishing there was something I could do to help you. I know I can’t force you to talk to me,’ he said now. ‘But will you at least take my number in case you change your mind?’

  ‘I don’t have a phone,’ Katya told him.

  ‘There’s plenty of public phone boxes around,’ Joe said as he went back to the car. He scribbled his mobile number on a scrap of paper and handed it to her, along with a pound coin. ‘Call me,’ he said. ‘Any time.’

  Katya held the items tightly in her hand. She knew that she would never use them but it felt strangely comforting to have them nonetheless.

  Watching now as Joe walked back to his car, she bit her lip. Then, taking a leap of faith, she blurted out, ‘It’s Katya . . . my name.’

  Pausing, Joe smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  Katya stayed where she was after Joe had driven away, gazing down at the number in her hand. She screwed up the paper after a while and was about to throw it away when something stopped her, and she found herself slipping it into her boot instead. Then, pulling her hood up, she walked quickly away in search of a less dangerous place to work, because she had no doubt that those girls would come back to finish what they’d started now that Joe had gone. She just didn’t have the strength to fight them.

  16

  Patsy was going crazy cooped up in the flat. She knew that Eddie was punishing her for messing with his case, but he’d promised to come back and he hadn’t. And she didn’t know how long ago it was since he’d been here but she was sure it had been a few days, if not a week.

  Her skin was raw from scratching at the invisible insects that had been crawling all over her, and the inside of her head felt like a shattered mirror from the baby’s constant crying. Desperate for something to calm the bubbling craziness, she’d taken Eddie’s case out of its hole numerous times. And it didn’t matter that she’d seen him take all the little baggies out, just knowing that they had been in there in the first place had turned it into a giant magnet, pulling her back time and again. But the tiny part of Patsy’s brain that was still functioning normally reminded her that he had threatened to chop her hands off if she tampered with it again, so each time she took it out she put it straight back again.

  When she could stand it no longer, Patsy wandered out into the hall and tested the water by opening the door and peeping out. Becoming braver when nothing terrible happened, she opened it a little wider and stepped tentatively up to the threshold before eventually setting foot in the actual corridor – for a fraction of a second – before darting back in again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out, and it felt big, bad and dangerous beyond her front door, like a world she no longer belonged in. She knew she shouldn’t go out, because she’d promised to stay home and look after Eddie’s stuff in return for him looking after her. But something must have happened to stop him from coming round, because there was no way he would have left her for this long. He loved her; he would never deliberately torture her like this.

  Patsy went back into the living room; slapping at her ears as the baby’s cries reverberated through her head and twanged at every nerve in her body.

  ‘Shut up,’ she muttered, pacing up and down past the bouncing chair tucked away between the armchair and the couch. ‘Shut up, shut up, shut up!’

  But it didn’t stop. It went on and on and on, until she was forced out into the hall again. And this time she knew that she had to find Eddie before she completely lost her mind.

  The corridor outside her door was cold, and it had eyes: buried in every wall, spying from behind every door. Head swimming, she clutched at the door frame for support.

  ‘Are you okay?’ somebody asked.

  Patsy swung her head in the direction of the voice. A white-haired old lady wearing fluffy slippers and a patterned dress was standing a few doors down. She had a miniature watering can in her hand.

  ‘Who are you?’ Patsy’s tongue clicked as it unpeeled itself from the roof of her mouth.

  ‘Mrs Thomas,’ the old lady reminded her, a frown of concern creasing her kindly old face. ‘Is everything all right, dear?’

  ‘Sorry
,’ Patsy mumbled, pulling her door to behind her to block out the sound of the baby’s wailing. ‘He’s just . . . he’s . . . he’s waiting for his bottle. But I’ve not been very well. Haven’t been able to get my money.’

  ‘You haven’t got any milk?’ Mrs Thomas clucked. ‘Oh dear, that’s not good. Why don’t I get you some of mine?’

  ‘No!’ Patsy blurted out. ‘It’s got to be proper baby powder. From the shop.’

  ‘Ah, I see,’ Mrs Thomas murmured, bending to put the watering can down. ‘Just a moment, I’ll see what I can do.’

  Patsy scratched at her arms while she waited, creating a little line of blood droplets from her wrist to her elbow. She was licking at them when the old lady came back out and her eyes widened when she saw the ten-pound note in her hand.

  ‘Thanks,’ Patsy mumbled, snatching it and rushing back inside. Watching through the spyhole until Mrs Thomas had finished watering her potted flowers and had gone, she let herself back out and edged along the wall until she reached the lift.

  Carl was in the parking lot, drooling over the Golf GTi that Damien’s friend had brought over from Leeds to sell. He wanted it – badly – but there was no way he could afford it on the money that Eddie was paying him. Still, it did no harm to look – and touch, and smell, and fantasise about driving it.

  ‘State of that,’ Damien said suddenly, nudging him and nodding towards the red block.

  Turning in time to see the skinny girl creeping out, Carl said, ‘Jeezus, talk about rough.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ Damien chuckled, shaking his head as he took in the girl’s filthy clothes and the hair standing out in tufty clumps around her head. ‘Man, you just wouldn’t, would you?’

  Carl laughed. But he stopped abruptly when the girl spotted him and called out to him in a loud whisper, ‘Carl! Over here . . . I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Sorry, mate, didn’t realise you knew her,’ Damien said, giving him a strange smile. ‘You’d best go see what she wants. See you later.’