Delray looked out across the Thames. Staring out at the flickering lights of the city as he pondered what he could do. He was irritated that, so far, he hadn’t been able to come up with the goods for his new client. The meet was scheduled for next week and, so far, Javine was the closest thing that Delray had managed to get to offer the man. Delray had wanted to impress, to show him that he was good for the order.
The money for this arrangement would be life-changing.
Even with everything he had, Delray had to physically pinch himself in order to believe how far he’d come. Living here in this plush apartment. Looking out over the Albert Embankment. He shared the building with lawyers, architects. Some of London’s highest-paid professionals. He was literally living it up with the rest of London’s elite.
Fuck it, he was the elite. He was the one in the penthouse lording it up over the lot of them fuckers. Not bad for a boy that had been dragged up in Lambeth, that was for sure; but, as always, Delray wanted more, and he knew that he could have it too.
To think he’d started pimping out a couple of street walkers and now he had all this: the three brothels; a high-class escort agency: business was booming. He’d made an absolute mint. Clawed himself up from the bottom by all means necessary in order to get what he wanted.
But now he had it, he wanted more. This deal with Hamza Nagi was a real game changer. He stood to make a fortune. Only, the fucker was very specific on his requirements. Even if he stuck Javine in a school uniform the girl still wouldn’t look demure.
Delray had been hoping to come up with the goods. Personally, Delray thought the man was a first-class nonce. Ordering young girls, children, was sickening even to Delray. But this wasn’t personal: this was strictly business, like always, and Delray always took business extremely seriously – especially when he stood to make an absolute killing.
Thousands for every order completed. Minimal leg work, minimal fuss, all he had to do was keep old Hamza happy by supplying the sick fucker’s demand; the money would speak for itself after that.
Delray rubbed his head irritably.
‘Who fucking knows, huh! We still got a week before he flies here to England. Hopefully by then we will have sourced something a little more to the man’s taste.’ Delray shrugged. ‘He’s agreed to take Javine off our hands though, so that’s one problem dealt with.’
Lenny nodded. Downing his whisky, he grinned to himself. The jumped-up little bitch was in for a real shock. Like Delray said, they still had just over a week to sort something else out for their new contact.
Anything could happen between now and then.
Chapter Eighteen
‘Mind out the way, girls, this dish is roasting.’ Leaning in between her two daughters, Josie dropped the steaming hot oven dish down in the middle of the kitchen table, cursing as the heat ate through the tea towel and burnt her fingers.
‘What’s that supposed to be?’ Georgie asked, aware of the brewing tension in the room between her mother and Trevor.
She didn’t care. She didn’t like Trevor and she didn’t want him here. She wanted him to know it too. Everything about him made her feel on edge. From his funny combed-over hair, to his stumpy little square teeth. The man was strange-looking, and he had mean eyes.
‘What does it look like!’ Josie quipped through gritted teeth.
She’d already warned Georgie to behave this evening. To try and be more welcoming to Trevor. Clearly, Georgie had no intention of taking heed to her mother’s warning. The girl was well and truly pushing her luck.
‘Well, to be fair, Josie, going by the state of it, it could be a dog-shit casserole for all we know.’ Eyeing the black charcoal crust that vaguely resembled mashed potato, Trevor prodded his knife into the top of the cremated food without success.
‘It’s shepherd’s pie. I must have had the oven up too high. But I’ve managed to scrape most of the black bits off, so eat up girls.’
Sensing the stilted atmosphere in the room, Josie was trying her hardest to keep the mood of the house neutral; though, already that was proving an impossible task.
Trevor was in one of his funny moods again. He’d barely said anything this evening, but instead, he’d silently made his presence felt. Staring around the room with that stern look on his face. His beady little eyes looking right through them all. He was pissed off, and Josie knew why.
It was the same reason the dinner was ruined.
Josie had found her mobile phone. She’d caught him out.
She still hadn’t been able to get her head around what was going on. Why would Trevor take her phone and then lie to her when she asked him if he’d seen it? What could he possibly gain from it?
She knew that Trevor didn’t like Mandy; he’d already said as much to her at every given opportunity. He thought that Mandy was a bad influence, that the woman dragged Josie down to her level. It hadn’t occurred to him that Josie and Mandy were two of the same.
In Trevor’s mind, Josie wasn’t like that. Not now, anyway, not now she had him around the place.
What was bothering her the most was what Mandy had said. How she’d been sent nasty messages. Telling her to stay away, that she wasn’t wanted.
It was almost as if Trevor had been trying to alienate her, she realised. Some sort of control thing.
A bit like when they were in bed together and he insisted that he would just lie there and watch her fall asleep. Josie had waited for him to make his move but, even now, after all these weeks, Trevor still hadn’t touched her.
It was odd, that was for sure, and Josie was starting to have reservations now about their little arrangement. But she was stuck. Penniless.
‘I’m not eating this,’ Marnie said, breaking Josie’s train of thought.
The child mimicked the look of disgust on her sister’s face, screwing her nose up at the food in front of her.
‘Oh, just eat it, Marnie. Stop being a drama queen,’ Josie warned, staring at her youngest daughter.
It was one thing Georgie getting stroppy, Josie was used to that, but she hadn’t expected Marnie to follow suit.
The pair of them were at it: sulking because they hadn’t got their own way, they’d ignored her warnings and seemed determined to bring the mood down in the flat once again.
Desperate to try and defuse the mood, Josie dolloped a smaller portion of food onto Marnie’s plate, hoping it would pacify the child.
‘I don’t like shepherd’s pie. It’s yuk, and I can still see the burnie bits. . .’ Pushing her plate away, Marnie stared sulkily at her mother. ‘Why can’t I have some Weetabix like I normally have?’
‘You’ve never had shepherd’s pie, not like this one. It took me all afternoon to make it. Why don’t you just try it? You never know you might like it?’
Josie gave Marnie a small, tight-lipped smile, hoping that, for once, she would just do as she was told.
But Marnie shook her head. Point-blank refusing to even try one mouthful.
Marnie had been exhausting this week. Josie suspected that the child was rebelling against Trevor being here.
So far, her night terrors had worsened, and she’d become quieter and withdrawn. The only time Josie saw Marnie now was when she coaxed her out from her bedroom and forced her to come to dinner.
Georgie was the same, the pair of them, as always, thick as thieves. If one was off, the other would be off too. It was always the same. They were determined to let Trevor know that he wasn’t welcome around here.
‘Think about all those poor starving children in Africa, huh? Here you are complaining when those poor children don’t have anything.’
‘Stick my dinner in an envelope and send it to them then, ’cos I’m not eating it.’ Close to tears now, Marnie threw down her cutlery in a strop.
Trevor intervened.
It was the first time he’d spoken to the girls directly since he’d started coming around, but he felt he couldn’t help but have his say.
‘The way you tal
k to your mother is appalling.’ Trevor pointed his finger at Marnie. Jabbing it in the air in front of him.
Marnie didn’t even look at Trevor. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and glared down at the table defiantly.
Trevor glared at the child. Unwilling to back down, he bellowed loudly.
‘EAT.’
Everyone at the table jumped with fright. Georgie looked at Marnie first, then at her mother. Trevor’s outburst had shocked them all.
Marnie too.
‘I don’t want to eat it,’ Marnie said as her bottom lip began to tremble and her tears cascaded down her cheeks. ‘I don’t want him here. Make him go away.’
Sensing the thunderous look on Trevor’s face, Georgie tried to calm the situation, coaxing her sister into doing as she was told before she got herself in trouble.
‘Come on, Marnie, it’s not too bad. Just take a big mouthful and swallow it down quickly… ’ Georgie said. Picking up her sister’s fork, Georgie loaded it up with food, and offered it to her.
Marnie, in the throes of an epic tantrum, smacked the fork out of Georgie’s hand, sending the food flying, landing all over the table.
Trevor slammed down his cutlery too. Annoyed at Georgie poking her nose in.
‘Stop mollycoddling your sister!’ he demanded. ‘Marnie, do as you’re told and eat your dinner now.’
Marnie shook her head, refusing point-blank to even look at the man.
Georgie spoke up. ‘You can’t make her eat it… ’ She knew that Marnie could be just as stubborn as Trevor. The more that the man told her to eat, the more Marnie would refuse.
‘You what?’ His eyes glistened.
‘I said, you can’t physically make her. You don’t have anything to do with us. You’re not her dad.’
‘Just leave it, Trevor, please—’ Sensing that the conversation was getting out of hand, Josie tried to placate him, but her words only seemed to have the opposite effect.
‘Leave it? Is that what you would do, is it, Josie? Just let these two fucking kids run riot? No wonder the pair of them don’t do anything they’re fucking told. It’s about time someone around her taught them both some bloody manners… ’
Up on his feet, Trevor leant over the table, shooing Georgie away from her sister as he set about bellowing at Marnie. ‘Do what your mother said, and bloody well eat it.’
Despite the tears rolling down her cheek, and her bottom lip trembling, Marnie shook her head stubbornly.
The smack came out of nowhere.
Trevor’s hand caught Marnie off guard as she felt a fierce slap to the side of her face.
The force of the whack propelled her clean off her chair. Marnie landed with a thump on the cold kitchen floor. She started bawling hysterically, both from the sting of the blow and the fact that she was aware that everyone’s eyes were on her now.
A sea of faces, all wearing shocked expressions.
Georgie was the first to move.
Seeing her sister hurt and crying, instinctively, she jumped down to Marnie’s aid.
‘You’re okay, Marnie,’ she said as she crouched down on the floor beside her and hugged her tightly. ‘It’s okay.’
Only, it wasn’t okay. Not really. None of it was okay at all.
Georgie could see the raised outline of Trevor’s handprint emblazoned in red on her sister’s cheek. She was also aware that, so far, her mother hadn’t moved an inch from where she was sitting at the table.
She hadn’t said a word.
She was just going to sit there and let Trevor smack them.
Georgie glared at her mother.
‘Aren’t you going to say something?’ Georgie was waiting for her to start screaming and shouting, to throw Trevor out. Only, her mother didn’t do anything at all.
Lately, she didn’t do anything except pander after Trevor.
That was when she was able to drag herself from her bed. Constantly tired, and yawning. Complaining that she felt ill.
Georgie had wondered if it was the drugs again. The ones that her mother pushed into her veins with a needle, but she knew that her mother hadn’t left the house and, apart from Trevor, no one came around anymore. Not Mandy, not Delray, not any of her mother’s so-called 'friends'.
‘Mum! Say something!’ Georgie said, losing her patience.
‘Get up, Marnie, and finish your food,’ she said simply.
‘Not to her, to him. To that bastard there.’ Pointing at Trevor, Georgie saw red. If her mother wasn’t going to stick up for Marnie, then it was down to her to do something.
‘Don’t you ever touch my sister again.’
‘And what you going to do about it?’ Trevor stuck his bottom lip out, mocking the child as he strolled over to the kitchen side and poured Josie another glass of his home-made wine that he insisted she drink. Walking back to the table he stepped over Marnie as if she was invisible before handing Josie the glass.
It was the final insult.
‘I mean it. If you touch her again, you’ll be sorry.’
Trevor came close to her. Leaning down, his face almost touching hers.
Bracing herself for Trevor’s reaction, Georgie flinched as Trevor leaned in further.
The last thing Georgie expected to hear was Trevor roaring with laughter, but that’s exactly what he did.
‘Jesus, Josie, this one’s got some fire, ain’t she!’ Trevor had tears running down his face then; he was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. Trevor could see that the child was a lot like her mother. Brash, opinionated. Short-tempered.
Georgie’s face went red. Humiliated that Trevor was laughing at her, that he wasn’t taking her seriously, Georgie felt suddenly helpless.
She looked at her mother for some support, but Josie kept her head down.
‘Mum?’ Georgie’s voice was small as she waited for her to answer. To do something.
‘You heard Trevor. That’s enough now. I want you both sitting back up at the table and eating your dinner. No more arguments.’
Georgie stared at her mother in disbelief.
‘Come on, Marn, get up. Let’s just eat it, yeah?’ Georgie leant down and hoisted Marnie back up onto her feet.
Marnie didn’t argue. This time she did as she was told. Sitting back down at the kitchen table, wiping her snotty face with the back of her hand, she picked up her fork and took a mouthful of food.
‘That’s better.’ Trevor grinned smugly as he sat back down at the table and looked over to Josie. ‘See. I told you what the girls need is a firmer hand. Bet you’re glad I’m here now, ain’t you?’
Picking up his fork, Trevor ate a huge mouthful of food before taking a long swig of his beer. Sitting back in his chair, he watched as Josie and the girls continued eating their meal in silence.
Finally, his authority had been noted.
It was exactly what this household needed, a firm hand, and Trevor Pearson was just the man to instil it.
Chapter Nineteen
Lifting her head from the pillow as soon as Lenny had left the room, Javine eyed the bedroom door.
She’d been pretending to be asleep when he’d come in so she didn’t have to look at the man. Hoping that if he thought she was asleep he’d leave her alone.
He had.
Staring at the tray down on the floor. A cheese sandwich and an apple. Then she looked back at the door. He hadn’t locked it behind him. She was sure of it.
Dragging herself up out of bed, Javine felt like shit. She could smell her own body odour. Her staleness. She needed a shower.
The room was tiny. Claustrophobic. With no window to look out, it was making her feel disorientated.
Pressing her ear up against the door, she listened intently. She couldn’t hear any voices outside; there was no TV on either. She wondered whether, perhaps, Lenny had left her food and then gone out. Though he wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave the door unlocked, would he? Pulling the handle down, she realised he had as she opened it just a sliver.
>
Enough to peer out across the large open-plan living space.
The lounge, the kitchen. Empty.
Eyeing the row of doors along the hallway, the bedrooms and cloakroom, Javine wondered if perhaps Lenny had only gone into one of those rooms.
What if he had? He might hear her trying to flee. She couldn’t just stay here, though; she needed to at least try.
Taking her chance, her only chance, Javine grabbed the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her body. Running as fast as she could, her feet bare, cold against the ceramic floor tiles, she made it as far as the front door.
Her heart was hammering inside her chest. As she went for the lock, her hands trembled so much that she could barely turn the handle.
Somehow, she managed it.
Pulling the heavy front door open, she eyed the lift right in front of her. All she had to do was press a button. If she could make it downstairs she could tell the concierge to get help. To call the police.
Javine felt like crying with relief.
It was short-lived.
‘Javine, what a pleasant surprise,’ Lenny said as he stepped out from the corner where he’d clearly been waiting and glanced down at his watch. ‘Four and a half minutes. Not bad. Nice that you dressed for the occasion too.’ Lenny grinned, eyeing the sheet that Javine had tied around herself.
Javine was confused; she didn’t understand.
Then she realised she’d just been had – again. This was just another one of Lenny’s headfucks. He was playing his stupid little games, deliberately letting her think that she could make her escape.
‘Tut tut, Javine. What do you think happens to girls that can’t do as they’re told, huh? You were supposed to stay put, weren’t you? Trying to do a runner? That’s not very clever, is it?’
Javine shook her head.
‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to be taught another lesson, Javine.’
The Promise Page 13