by Helen Black
Jez was speechless.
‘He put his hand over her mouth because she was screaming,’ said Luke. ‘And Charlie held down her arms.’
A shockwave ran through the court.
‘You fucking grass,’ shouted Tom.
‘He thought she didn’t matter,’ said Luke. ‘That she was nothing.’
‘You’re a traitor,’ spat Tom.
At last Luke looked up at his old school friend. ‘You treated her like an animal, but she is just as important as you and me.’
Tom roared at Luke. ‘We’re supposed to be friends.’
‘My only friend is dead,’ Luke held his old school mate’s glare. ‘You and I were never friends.’
The gallery erupted and Jack dragged Tom out of court.
‘Tom Everard, I am arresting you on suspicion of rape. You do not have to…’
‘This is preposterous,’ said Mrs Everard.
‘Tom can have his say at the station,’ said Jack.
‘You can’t take that boy’s word, he’s clearly deranged,’ said Mrs Everard. ‘The family he’s from are not the right sort.’
A woman Jack knew as Luella screwed up her nose. ‘She’s right. They’re just not one of us.’
Jack bridled. One of us? What century were these women living in?
Jack took Tom by the arm and began to lead him away.
‘We’ll have our solicitors on to you like a shot,’ said Mrs Everard.
‘And the papers,’ said Luella.
‘I’m already here.’ Alexia bounded up.
‘Then you should get this down,’ said Luella. ‘Police harassment.’
‘Oh, please,’ said Jack.
‘Why don’t you people spend your time solving real crimes?’ said Luella.
‘What,’ said Alexia, ‘like burning down Lilly’s house?’
‘Lilly’s house has been burned down?’ shouted Jack.
‘It was firebombed by Nazis two nights ago,’ said Alexia.
Jack was stunned. ‘Is Sam okay?’
Alexia nodded. ‘Not that those bastards cared less about that.’ She turned to Luella and Mrs Everard. ‘But I suppose his family are just not the right sort for you to care.’
‘Do you know who they are?’ asked Jack.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Alexia. ‘And I know exactly who helped them.’ She stared at Luella and Mrs Everard.
‘You’re not saying this pair were involved?’ Jack replied.
‘Nah,’ said Alexia. She gestured to Luella. ‘She’s a small-minded idiot but she’d never dare do anything other than talk.’ Then she pointed at Mrs Everard. ‘But if you check her computer you’ll see she’s a very busy bunny under the name “Snow White”’.
Jack grabbed Mrs Everard’s arm. ‘You are so nicked.’
Alexia whooped with delight and dialled the number for News International. What a story.
Lilly faced her client in the cell.
‘Now everyone knows I was raped,’ said Catalina.
‘Yes,’ said Lilly.
‘But will it be enough?’
Lilly looked at her client intently. Luke’s testimony had been electrifying. The stuff of Hollywood.
‘I don’t know if they’ll be able to get past the lies about where you came from.’
Catalina nodded as if this was exactly what she had suspected. She seemed strangely calm. Calmer than Lilly.
‘I want to give you something,’ she said.
She rifled through her bag of belongings, retrieved a tattered sheaf of paper and pressed the dog-eared bundle into Lilly’s hands.
Lilly locked the toilet door and sat on the lid. She knew that she needed to be alone, and in the mania of the Bailey this was the only place.
She looked at the crumpled pieces of paper covered in childlike writing, each word pressed heavily with a pencil, and began, at last, to discover who her client really was.
Lilly ran the cold tap over a wad of toilet paper and pushed it against her eyes. Milo and Dr Kadir had been right all along. Catalina had had every reason to do what she did. But could a jury forgive all those lies?
Her mobile rang.
‘Lirry.’
‘Rupes?’
‘Are you okay?’
Lilly could imagine the swelling to Rupinder’s lips and it made her wince.
‘What do you mean, am I okay? How the bloody hell are you?’
‘Sore,’ said Rupes. ‘But on the mend.’
Lilly’s knees began to tremble with relief and she leant against the sink for support.
‘How’s it going?’ asked Rupes.
‘Who knows, mate?’ said Lilly. ‘I’m about to close.’
Rupinder chuckled. ‘Sock it to ’em.’
* * *
Court reconvened, and Lilly took her place once again.
‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,’ said Lilly ‘I know I started this speech before…’
The jury laughed politely
‘What I didn’t know then was what on earth I was going to say.’
Lilly shot another glance at Catalina’s ‘statement’.
‘In truth, I still don’t.’
She turned to her client. ‘What I do know is that Catalina Petrescu is an amazing person. She escaped a situation that most of us couldn’t imagine in our worst nightmares.
‘And, yes, she lied about where she came from and took on a false identity, but I for one am not going to judge her for that, for who am I to say what I would have done in her situation.’
Lilly scanned the jury, hoping to see a glimmer of understanding.
‘To most of us, the way she was living, in a hostel, shunned by polite society, might not seem that great, but to Catalina Petrescu it was all she wanted because she was safe.
‘Then, one night, even that was taken from her.’
She pointed to the witness stand as if Luke were still in it.
‘A brave young man came forward and told us what happened. How Catalina was forced onto the ground and brutally raped. For most of us that would be a trauma we might never recover from but, for my client it was that last abuse, that last betrayal of her humanity, that pushed her over the edge.’
Lilly took a drink of water. God, she wished it were a Ginger Zinger.
‘Her mind took a path of its own and stayed there. So, on that fateful day when she went to Manor Park School, she had no comprehension of what was about to unfold. Now, given what you’ve seen and heard in this courtroom, is that so difficult to believe?’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘Mr Foreman, have you reached a verdict upon which you have all agreed?’
‘We have.’
The judge nodded. ‘And how do you find the defendant, Catalina Petrescu—guilty or not guilty?’
Lilly squeezed her eyes shut.
‘Not guilty.’
Lilly threw her arms in the air. ‘Yes!’
‘What happens now?’
Jack was driving Catalina and Lilly to the station.
Lilly pushed her client’s hair out of her eyes. It was streaked with grey.
‘You’ll be interviewed by immigration,’ he said. ‘Maybe you can make an application for asylum.’
Catalina shook her head. ‘I’m from Romania.’
‘She was sold by her mother to a pickpocketing gang,’ said Lilly. ‘And they trafficked her to England.’
‘Jesus,’ Jack muttered.
‘She escaped with Artan and they bought new identities,’ said Lilly.
Catalina nodded. ‘We bought new papers for fifty pounds. No one cared about a few dead refugees. That way we could stay here, make a life for ourselves.’
Lilly thought about the pair living in Hounds Place, with no money or future. Was that a life? Maybe for them it was enough.
‘What will happen now?’ asked Catalina.
Lilly’s heart lurched. ‘I expect you’ll be deported.’
They drove in silence for a few miles. Lilly knew full well that there was eve
ry chance that as soon as Catalina landed, the traffickers would pick her up again. Catalina knew it too.
Jack pulled into a petrol station. ‘Let’s get some chocolate.’
‘Get me a Twix and a Bounty,’ said Lilly.
‘Why don’t you come and choose it yourself?’ he said, and got out of the car.
Lilly watched Jack saunter to the shop. He was the best man that ever lived. The best.
Slowly, Lilly took out her purse and pressed it into Catalina’s hand.
‘You don’t have to,’ said Catalina.
Lilly nodded. ‘There’s about a hundred quid in cash and I’ll cancel the cards tomorrow.’
A silent moment stretched like elastic until Lilly knew she had to let go.
‘It’s been a pleasure knowing you,’ she said.
‘Give my best love to Sam,’ Catalina replied.
Lilly thought of her son—his sunny life with two parents that adored him—and, not for the first time, she questioned the lottery of life that gave some children all the luck.
‘He will make a very good big brother I think,’ said Catalina.
Lilly opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Catalina smiled and patted Lilly’s rounded stomach, acknowledging something she herself had been studiously avoiding.
Lilly burst into tears. ‘Be happy,’ she said, and ran to the father of her unborn child.
Acknowledgments
Before I wrote my first novel I thought authors were solitary beings, chained to their old-fashioned typewriters for months on end. Now of course I know that any book worth reading is a collaborative affair and I for one am grateful for that.
First shout goes to Peter, Rosie and Jessica Buckman who continue to champion me and my work.
Huge thanks are also due to everyone at Avon, particularly Kesh, who goes that extra mile for me.
My fellow HUG members, David and Mike, have once again offered red wine and positive criticism for which I continue to be grateful.
A big virtual wave goes to the community of writers on www.writewords.org.uk. Wit, wisdom and general blather are always only a keyboard away.
And I know she’s going to be mortified but I’d like to single out my mate, Sarah S, for keeping me sane with our morning walks. My thighs salute you.
Then there’s the family. The noisy messy lot of us. We don’t lead a normal life, but then again, who wants to?
About the Author
Helen Black was brought up in a mining town in West Yorkshire. She moved to London in her twenties and trained to be a commercial lawyer. On qualification she shifted lanes and has practised criminal and family law for over ten years. She specialises in representing children in the care system. She now lives in Bedfordshire with her husband and young children. Her debut novel Damaged Goods has sold across Europe.
For further information on Helen Black, visit her website at www.hblack.co.uk and go to www.bookarmy for exclusive updates.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Praise for Damaged Goods:
‘A fantastic first novel.’
Jane Elliott, author of The Little Prisoner
and Sadie
‘A dark and gripping read that will have you on the edge of your seat…this terrific debut novel is full of intrigue and a real page-turner.’ Closer
By the same author:
Damaged Goods
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
AVON
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
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London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
1
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2008
Copyright © Helen Black 2008
Helen Black asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © 2008 ISBN: 9780007328864
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Praise
By the Same Author
Copyright
About the Publisher