Friendless Lane

by Helen Black

  Helen Black grew up in Pontefract, West Yorkshire. At 18 she went to Hull university and left three years later with a tattoo on her shoulder and a law degree. She became a lawyer in Peckham and soon had a loyal following of teenagers needing legal advice and bus fares. She ended up working in Luton, working predominantly for children going through the care system.

  Helen is married to a long-suffering lawyer and has two children.

  FRIENDLESS LANE

  Helen Black

  Constable • Robinson

  CONSTABLE

  First published in Great Britain by Constable,

  an imprint of Constable & Robinson, 2015

  Text copyright © Helen Black, 2015

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book

  is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 978-1-47211-459-4 (ebook)

  Constable

  is an imprint of

  Constable & Robinson Ltd

  100 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DY

  An Hachette UK Company

  www.hachette.co.uk

  www.constablerobinson.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Prologue

  You don’t know where you are.

  The room is empty apart from a double bed with a bare mattress. You don’t like the look of those yellowy-brown stains. They make you feel a bit sick.

  There isn’t even a bulb in the light fitting. Just a white plastic cord dangling from the ceiling like a single intestine ripped from a stomach.

  You walk over to the door. Why? You’ve tried it, like, forty times. You know it’s locked.

  You walk over to the window and peer outside. The lane below is rutted and muddy, flanked on either side by trees. Occasionally a car rushes past, causing a frenzy of dead leaves. Then nothing.

  You swallow down your panic. Everything’s going to be fine. But you wish you had your phone. You definitely had it when you left home. You pushed it into your pocket like you always do. Mum tells you not to put it there, that someone could easily steal it, but you don’t listen to her. She’s going to kill you when she finds out you’ve lost it.

  You still had it later, at the arcade. You took a picture of Leah and Raz swigging from a bottle of Smirnoff. You’re pretty sure you slid it back into your pocket when they passed you the vodka.

  When someone else suggested going back to theirs to watch The Human Centipede, you didn’t really fancy it. Horror films aren’t your thing and you’ve heard it’s properly twisted. But you went along with it. When you got in the car, you started to feel dizzy and closed your eyes …

  And then you woke up in this room.

  You sit on the edge of the bed, avoiding the stains, determined to stay calm.

  The others probably think this is the best joke ever. Only it’s not even funny.

  Because you don’t know where you are.

  Chapter 1

  Lilly rummaged in her daughter’s drawer and chose the cosiest jumper she could find. It was a present from her dad, red as Christmas and twice as cheerful. It didn’t really suit Alice’s strawberry-blonde curls, but what the hell? She was only two.

  ‘Arms up, kiddo,’ said Lilly.

  Alice blew a spit bubble and clamped her fists to her sides.

  ‘Like this.’ Lilly mimed putting on a jumper. ‘See?’

  Alice answered clearly, using her favourite word. ‘Noooooooo …’

  Lilly sighed. ‘You know you don’t have to disagree with me on principle. You’re not a teenager yet. It’s not statutory behaviour.’

  ‘Can you imagine what a nightmare she’ll be at my age?’

  Lilly looked up at the voice. Her son stood in the doorway in his boxer shorts, idly scratching his balls. She turned back to Alice and cocked her thumb in the direction of Sam’s crotch. ‘Apparently that is statutory behaviour for teenage boys.’

  The little girl gurgled at the distraction and Lilly whipped the sweater over her head. Realizing what had happened, Alice frowned first at her top, then at her mother.

  ’You snooze, you lose, kiddo,’ Lilly told her.

  She reached into the drawer for socks, searching for a pair. ‘Why aren’t you in school?’ she asked Sam.

  ‘Study leave,’ he said. ‘Why aren’t you in work?’

  ‘Hospital appointment for your sister.’

  He sidled into the room and dissolved on to the bed like an ice cream melting down a bare arm. He lay face first and spoke into the pillow.

  ‘Is Jack going with you?’

  Lilly tried to tame her daughter’s hair with her fingertips. It didn’t much improve matters. She considered a hairbrush, but the very sight of a Tangle Teezer could result in an hour’s worth of howling, thrashing and vomiting. Fuck that for a game of soldiers.

  ‘You two are very cosy all of a sudden,’ said Sam.

  Lilly eyed the sticky puddle that was her son. ‘He’s her dad. He wants to be there.’

  ‘And what about my dad?’

  ‘What about him? If you were ill, I bet he’d want to be there.’

  Sam grunted into the Peppa Pig duvet. Another gift from Jack. To be honest, Alice didn’t like the programme, didn’t like television full stop. And she didn’t sleep under the duvet, or even in the bed, refusing to shut her eyes unless Lilly or Jack was in spitting distance.

  ‘Dad says you don’t know what you want,’ said Sam.

  ‘Your dad talks shit,’ said Lilly. ‘Sorry, mate, but you know it’s true.’

  Sam closed his eyes. His dad had lots of great qualities. He was fun, full of enthusiasm and he would cheerfully play endless hours of Call of Duty (a game Lilly had tried to ban from the house), but there was little doubt he talked a lot of shit, especially when it came to Lilly.

  ‘Are you getting back with Jack?’ Sam asked.

  ‘No, I’m not getting back with Jack, and I’m not getting back with your dad either.’ She laid her hand on her son’s head, feeling the slight dampness of his scalp. ‘We’re all right on our own, aren’t we?’

  He didn’t answer, just breathed into Peppa’s ugly snout. A nightmare of pink deformity. No wonder Alice hated her!

  ‘I’ve got to concentrate on you two,’ said Lilly. ‘You’ve got your GCSEs coming up and I need to support you.’

  Sam sniffed and got up from the bed.

  ‘I’m going to have a shower.’

  [#]

  The doorbell rang. Lilly waited. Jack had a key but always rang first. Sure enough, she soon heard the telltale sound of him struggling with the lock and cursing as he picked his way through the recycling and kit bags in the hallway.

  ‘We’re up here,’ she called down.

  The sound of his boots thudding on the stairs made Alice squirm.

  ‘Aren’t coppers supposed to know how to creep about?’ Lilly asked him when he stuck his head around the door.

  At the sight of her father, Alice threw out her arms.

/>   ‘Hello, my lovely.’ He scooped her up. ‘Don’t you look a bobby-dazzler in that jumper?’

  ‘Noooooo,’ said Alice, but gave him her best gummy grin.

  ‘Better get going,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Changing bag?’ asked Jack.

  ‘I was just about to pick it up,’ Lilly lied.

  ‘Cuddly toy?’

  Lilly grabbed the nearest teddy.

  ‘That one?’ Jack asked.

  ‘It’s her new favourite.’

  Lilly jiggled the bear close to Alice’s cheek and a bell sewn into his ear tinkled. Alice snatched the toy and shook it with a murderous ferocity. Funny how she liked bells but couldn’t tolerate footsteps. Capricious child.

  ‘What did I tell you?’ said Lilly.

  As they made their way out of the bedroom to the stairs, the bathroom door opened and Sam appeared, dripping, his modesty covered by a hand towel.

  ‘My eyes, my eyes,’ said Jack.

  Sam gave a mirthless laugh, stepped back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  ‘What’s up with his nibs?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Age. Hormones. You name it.’

  [#]

  Once in the car, Jack didn’t speak. Instead, he turned on the CD player and let the sound of the overture from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro flow from the speakers to the little ball of fury strapped into her car seat in the back.

  To be fair, Jack knew as much about classical music as he did about quantum physics, but one day his radio had been stuck on Radio 3 and he noticed how the music had soothed Alice. And frankly, anything that soothed Alice was A Very Good Thing.

  He looked across at Lilly. They couldn’t chat. Even whispering above the music provoked volcanic tantrums.

  ‘Okay?’ he mouthed.

  She smiled, nodded and turned to look out of the side window.

  He knew how much she hated these hospital visits. It wasn’t just the hospital itself, though she loathed that with a clichéd intensity; it was the fact that she had to face up to what was going on with Alice.

  Lilly, straight-talking, no-bullshit northerner, wanted to pass on this one. The bravest woman he knew wanted to run away.

  Still, at least she was trying. She’d spent the last two years arguing with him about it, and Mary Mother of God could Lilly Valentine argue! This tight-lipped, pinch-cheeked silence was progress.

  Jack laughed to himself.

  Lilly jabbed him with her elbow and mouthed, ‘What’s funny?’

  He shook his head and laughed again. In reality, the situation wasn’t particularly humorous; his daughter was possibly autistic and he’d split up with her mother, the person he’d envisaged spending the rest of his life with. Yet somehow he felt strangely light, happy even.

  An image of his ma popped into his mind, her hair a grey carbon-fibre helmet of perm and lacquer, a fag permanently lit in her hand.

  ‘Don’t go getting giddy, son,’ she said. ‘It won’t last.’

  For some reason this just made him laugh all the more.

  [#]

  Kelsey hammered on the door with the side of her fist. No answer. She hopped from foot to foot. It was bloody freezing and she was dying for a rock. She banged again. Still no answer. Fuck it.

  She bent down to look through the letter box. If anyone passed behind her on the walkway, they’d get a good flash of her knickers. As the wind whistled through the cheeks of her arse, she wished she was wearing a pair of woolly tights. But in her line of work they’d go down like a cold cup of sick.

  She peered into the flat. It looked deserted and there was a funny smell.

  ‘Anyone in?’ she called. ‘You at home, Gem?’

  She listened for signs of life. Nothing.

  Fuck it.

  When she straightened, next door had opened up, some old bag standing there in her dressing gown and slippers. She had a look on her face that reminded Kelsey of Mrs Mitchel. Back in the day, Kelsey had lived on the Clayhill with her mum and the little ones. Not far from here. Mrs Mitchel had lived a few doors down. She’d been all right in the beginning, lending Mum bits of food and that, sending Kelsey on errands, calling her ‘a good girl’. Then one day she’d sent her to the Spar for fags and said the change had come back short. Said Kelsey had nicked it. Threatened to call the police.

  Thing was, Kelsey hadn’t nicked the flaming change. She’d just taken what was rightfully hers. What the ugly bitch didn’t know was that Mr Mitchel liked to cop a feel when he had the chance, and that he used to pay Kelsey a quid to keep shtum. Then one day he didn’t want to give her the pound, but he still wanted to stick his nasty nicotine-stained finger inside her, didn’t he? So Kelsey kept the change from the fags. It was only fair.

  ‘They ain’t in,’ said the woman in the dressing gown. ‘So you can stop knocking.’

  ‘Do you know where they went?’ Kelsey asked.

  The woman looked her up and down, taking in the thigh boots, the pink fishnets, the scars around her mouth.

  ‘Not a clue.’

  Kelsey was about to ask if the woman had a mobile number for Gem’s mum, but the door was already shutting.

  [#]

  Lilly had tried to keep smiling until she and Jack had dropped Alice at nursery. Not that it seemed to matter to Alice. Her moods rarely seemed set by anything Lilly did or said. Now, as she unlocked the door to her office and slumped into the chair in reception, she let her face fall. She had been determined not to let the consultant’s words get to her, but right now they were swilling around her head.

  Developmental delay.

  Oversensitivity to light and sound.

  Communication difficulties.

  How could Jack just sit there, calmly nodding his head? At one point he’d even made a note. Couldn’t he see how devastating it was? Did he not want to just scream and throw his pen across the room?

  Lilly buried her face in her hands and tried to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose … Whenever she thought about what might be wrong with Alice, she felt a heaviness in her chest. Right now the heaviness had become a dead weight, constricting her lungs. In through the nose, out through the mouth …

  ‘You all right?’

  Lilly looked up and saw the young prostitute in the doorway.

  ‘Is it a bad time?’

  Lilly shook her head. ‘Nah, come on in, Kelsey. Or is it Misty these days?’

  ‘Only if you want a blow job.’

  Lilly smiled and gestured to a free chair. Kelsey sat down, tugging at the leather skirt that barely covered the tops of her stockings.

  ‘Got your own firm now?’

  Lilly nodded. ‘Valentine and Co. Not that there’s any co.’

  ‘You always were a one-off,’ said Kelsey. ‘Probably better if you work on your own.’

  ‘Less trouble that way, for sure.’

  Kelsey patted down her jacket pockets and pulled out a packet of Benson & Hedges. ‘Can I smoke?’

  ‘No.’

  Kelsey sighed theatrically, took out a cigarette and stuck it behind her ear. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here.’

  ‘My scintillating company?’

  Kelsey laughed. ‘Remember that kid you represented?’

  ‘You’ll have to narrow that down, Kelsey. I’ve filing cabinets full of old cases.’

  ‘The girl who got nicked in the brothel,’ said Kelsey. ‘Then they put her in that nut house.’

  ‘You mean Gem?’

  Kelsey took the fag from behind her ear and rolled it between thumb and forefinger. ‘Yeah, that’s the one.’

  Lilly remembered her well. The poor kid had been what, fifteen? Working in a Turkish knocking shop when she’d been arrested for battering a punter. Lilly had managed to persuade the desk sergeant at the time that it was Gem who was the victim, and that she needed to be released to the Grove, a residential unit for young people suffering mental problems. The fact that the punter had been a job meant everyone had b
een keen to sweep the incident under the carpet. The Chief Super had probably accepted the old boy’s resignation with regret and he was now sunning himself in the Costa del Sol on a full police pension.

  ‘Thing is,’ said Kelsey, ‘she’s missing.’

  Lilly frowned. For kids like Gem, missing could mean a lot of different things, from being temporarily on the not-at-home list in order to avoid money lenders/drug dealers/court cases, to much darker situations.

  ‘When did you last see her?’ she asked.

  ‘A couple of days ago.’

  A couple of days was nothing. A party could last that long. Yet Kelsey Brand wasn’t the type to rattle easily.

  ‘She’s been working out of the same place as me,’ said Kelsey.

  ‘For God’s sake, Kelsey, she’s fifteen.’

  Kelsey folded her arms across her chest, each fingernail ringed in the telltale black residue of crack cocaine.

  ‘I aint bleedin’ pimping her, Lilly. She come of her own accord.’

  ‘She’s still fifteen. She should be in her foster placement. We sorted her out with a nice family in Welwyn Garden City.’

  Kelsey snorted. ‘Broke down after two days. And the next one. And the one after that.’

  Lilly rubbed her cheek. It was a familiar pattern for kids in care, pinging from placement to placement like a pinball.

  ‘So where’s she been staying?’ she asked.

  ‘Back home,’ Kelsey replied. ‘Though her mum ain’t the full ticket.’

  ‘Drugs?’

  ‘Don’t think so. Don’t really matter.’

  It didn’t.

  ‘So Gem’s been working where?’

  Kelsey waved her hand distractedly, the unlit cigarette between her fingers. ‘A place in Tye Cross. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on her.’

  Lilly arched one eyebrow. Kelsey didn’t seem the caring and sharing type.

  ‘What?’ Kelsey was indignant. ‘I ain’t fucking heartless, you know.’

  Lilly was about to laugh when the door opened and Jack poked his head in.

  ‘Mary Mother of God,’ he said. ‘Is that Kelsey Brand sitting there as bold as brass?’

  ‘Fuck me, if it ain’t Jack McNally.’ Kelsey turned to Lilly. ‘You two together, are you? I always knew he wanted to get inside your knickers.’ She stood up. ‘Now I definitely need a bleedin’ fag.’