by Holly Archer
I stared at both of them, as Farooq’s eyes landed on us. I expected him to recoil in horror, to pull his trousers up and run off, just about dying of shame. But he was completely undeterred and interested in nothing but the titillation onscreen. My eyes travelled from Kev to Farooq to Kev again, with a mixture of shock and amazement. For a moment I considered that Kev might be as shocked as I was. Despite what he did and how he made his money, he surely didn’t allow his sons to do that in full view of visitors and anyone passing by outside, who might just happen to look in the window and see him. Did he?
But Kev didn’t even move to turn the porn film off. He simply burst into uproarious laughter and slapped Farooq round the back of the head.
‘You dirty bastard!’ he said. ‘What’s he like?’
I’d fixed my eyes on a spot on the carpet, hoping that when I looked up this weird and disgusting spectacle would all be over but, when I raised my eyes, Farooq was still going, his moans becoming louder and more frequent. Kev didn’t even bat an eyelid. He was more interested in the wad of cash he’d pulled from his pocket, which he was counting out meticulously, note by note.
All I could think was: why on earth is Farooq wanking in front of his dad? And why is his dad letting him?
I continued to stare at the ground as the moans continued. It was the smallest of snapshots into Imran’s family life but, in five minutes, I’d learned so much about the kind of home he came from. It almost made me laugh, thinking of my dad and how he’d react in a situation like that. He’d have been bloody horrified, and no wonder! Most parents would, and most teenagers wouldn’t dream of doing it in front of their dad in the first place. But Farooq wasn’t like most teenagers, and Kev certainly wasn’t like most parents.
Eventually Farooq’s moans stopped and he exhaled loudly. A smug, satisfied grin spread across his face. Instinctively, I turned away.
‘You going to say hello to Holly now you’ve finished?’ Kev chuckled, like he’d been playing his PlayStation, or texting on his phone.
Farooq gave me a sullen: ‘All right.’
I nodded back, still stunned. For once, I was glad he didn’t have the manners to shake my hand.
Imran and Farooq seemed so different. Imran had been so manipulative, cunning beyond his years, yet Farooq appeared to have absolutely no social graces or concept of what was acceptable behaviour. But ultimately they’d wanted the same thing – easy sexual gratification without any emotion or thought for anyone they embarrassed or hurt in order to get it. I found myself looking from father to son again and wondering: where have they learned to behave like this?
Kev didn’t give me much time to contemplate the whole sordid spectacle because, shortly afterwards, he took me home. It had been a largely pointless visit and I wasn’t sure why he’d brought me there, but I didn’t say anything.
‘It’s pizza for tea,’ Mum said, as I pushed open the door. Amy and Lauren were sitting on the living-room floor, toys strewn around them, watching The Powerpuff Girls on television.
‘Right,’ I replied. ‘Cool.’
The incredible scene I’d just witnessed was still flashing through my mind, as if it was on a loop. Now I was back in my own very normal living room, it seemed all the more surreal. Amy caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye and bounded up to give me a hug, handing me her doll in the process.
‘How’s Carly?’ Mum asked, as she fiddled with the timer on the oven.
‘Fine,’ I said.
‘Have you done your homework?’ she continued. ‘Don’t leave it too late to finish it or you’ll be tired for school tomorrow.’
Being tired for school was the last thing I could think about. I was still so overwhelmed and astounded by what I’d just seen. As Amy tugged at my hand and led me to her toy box, I momentarily asked myself if I’d somehow imagined it all.
Kev was a lot different from Mr Khan, in that he didn’t try to hide me away. He was quite brazen. In those first few weeks he’d sit with me in the front seat of the car with no concern for who might see. His back seat was often piled high with takeaway food to deliver, and sometimes he’d leave me sitting there while he called at houses on the way back to Mum’s, before dropping me at the end of the road. Sometimes he’d give me free food, just like Mr Khan had, but there was no money. Not yet.
It was almost a month before he properly mentioned it again. I’d just jumped into his car when he casually brought up Lily and the test, asking had I decided, did I want to make some easy money?
I couldn’t lie. I did. Otherwise I’d never have kept seeing him and going to his weird house.
‘I mean,’ Kev laughed. ‘All the names they call you. I’ve heard them. You might as well make it worth your while. You’re doing all of this anyway, aren’t you?’
I didn’t know what the right answer was, so I stayed silent.
‘Might as well make some money,’ Kev went on. ‘And I can make you good money.’
‘OK,’ I said.
Kev turned the key in the ignition and his car spluttered into life. ‘If, of course, you pass my test.’
I said nothing as he sped off and the car chugged through the residential streets of Telford until gradually we left them behind and the Wrekin grew closer and closer. Kev swung into the car park at the foot, where I’d been so many times with Mum and, lately, with Mr Khan.
Night was beginning to fall, although it was just past five o’clock, and there wasn’t a soul for miles around. Suddenly Kev had stopped talking and the car park was eerily quiet. I could feel my pulse quickening, just slightly, wondering what was about to happen next. Kev laid his hand on my thigh, pushing my school skirt up ever so slightly, a bit like the way Mr Khan had done, but it felt far more clinical. There was no hint of desire, or even of aggression. Kev had a calculating look in his eyes as he stroked my leg and furrowed his brow, like I was a product in a shop window and he was trying to estimate my value.
‘Get in the back,’ he said.
Wordlessly, I did as he said. He followed me and threw open the door.
‘OK,’ he said, after a few seconds. ‘I’m going to start touching you. And you’re going to start making sex noises.’
I squinted in disbelief at this man, old enough to be my dad. ‘Sex noises?’ I could feel my voice dropping to almost a whisper. ‘Like, what noises?’
Kev laughed coldly. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘You must know what I mean.’
I shrugged and he rolled his eyes. Then, something quite extraordinary happened. Kev threw back his head and started screeching like a hyena, squealing and panting in a weird, high-pitched voice that sounded nothing like his own. I now realise he was imitating a woman having an orgasm, but back then I had absolutely no clue what was going on. He sounded a bit like the blonde woman on Farooq’s porn video. It was so funny and ridiculous, as he rolled his eyes back in his head and said things like ‘harder’ and ‘that’s good’, that I had to hold my school jumper to my face to stifle a laugh.
Suddenly he snapped out of his little performance and shot me a look. ‘Finding something funny? I’m trying to help you out here.’
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘It’s just . . .’
But Kev wasn’t listening. He was touching me now, on the outside of my knickers and then the inside.
‘Lie back,’ he told me.
His fingers were cold and rough, and I tensed instinctively as he removed my jumper, undid my school tie, and pushed open the buttons on my blouse.
‘Make sex noises,’ he coaxed me. I was still trying not to giggle, because I was nervous more than anything. I gave a few weak grunts, but nothing like Kev’s screams. ‘You can do better than that. Come on.’
I didn’t have time to reply, as he was undoing my bra. I looked down to see my bare breasts and I felt the sudden urge to cover them up, but I stayed deathly still, scared of doing the wrong thing and losing my chance to make an easy £17,000.
‘Hmm,’ he said, as he took them in his cold hands. ‘
Hmm. Yes, they’re quite nice.’
Then, he undid his trousers. Without another word, he climbed on top of me. In that moment, my innocence was gone forever.
6
Innocence Lost
Kev had sex with me for the first and last time that evening. As he entered me, I’d braced myself for it to be really sore, as I’d read in magazines that your first time can be agony. But it wasn’t. He was quite small down there and he did it really slowly, so it wasn’t so bad. He didn’t bother to look for a condom, and I didn’t ask why. I just didn’t feel like it was my place to say anything and I assumed he knew what he was doing.
Throughout the whole thing he kept telling me to make noises and he’d sometimes break into his ridiculous impression of a woman having sex.
It seemed so alien to me, the concept that a woman could enjoy this so much she’d make such a bloody racket. Sure, I’d expected it to be much worse than it was, but I was still nowhere near making any of Kev’s noises without forcing myself.
I kept expecting him to get excited, like Imran had when I’d given him a blow job, or Farooq had been while watching his video. But if Kev was enjoying this, he didn’t let on. The only noises he made were those he expected me to imitate and then, abruptly, he stopped. I wondered if he might start again but he climbed off me and told me to get dressed, before hopping back into the front seat and driving off. He hadn’t even finished, if you catch my drift, but he didn’t seem bothered.
‘OK,’ he said, starting the car again. ‘That wasn’t bad. But you need to watch more movies.’
‘Movies?’ I echoed.
‘Yes, movies,’ he repeated. ‘But not just any movies. Movies like the one you saw Farooq watching. Sex movies.’
I cringed as the image of the blonde woman and her huge breasts flashed back into my mind. ‘Right.’
‘Remember,’ he went on. ‘If you want to be good at this, and make good money, you have to be an actress. It’s a bit like being in a soap opera. Just think like you’re in EastEnders – you have to pretend. Watch their faces, watch what they’re doing.’ He turned to look at me. ‘No one will want to pay for you if they don’t think you’re having a good time.’
As we drove back along the road, the M54 stretching out ahead of us, I felt a little numb. That was it, my first time, with Imran’s dad. Even back then I think I knew he’d never had any sexual interest in me. I was just a way for him to make money, quick, easy money. I was a product to him and the pound signs were flashing in his eyes. While Mr Khan continually groped me and stuck his tongue down my throat, Kev was different.
As he indicated to leave the motorway, a few junctions up from Telford, I surveyed his face from the corner of my eye.
I just knew that he’d never touch me again.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked. I knew he wasn’t taking me home, but I didn’t feel scared, just curious.
‘I just need to pop to this house for half an hour,’ he said. ‘You can come. I won’t be long.’
He left the motorway a few towns up from Telford, in a place I didn’t really recognise. He drew up outside a small terraced house with red-brick walls. As he pulled on the handbrake and unclipped his belt, I stayed in my seat.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘Are you coming in or what?’
I thought he was doing another shady business deal, so I was surprised he wanted me to come with him, but I followed dutifully behind. For a moment, I wondered if he was taking me to my first customer, but he swung open the door without knocking. Strewn across the floor in the hallway were various baby toys.
‘Daddy!’ came a little voice. All of a sudden, a little boy came tearing through the hallway like a mini tornado. He was mixed race, like Imran and Farooq and their sisters, and he had a mop of black hair and a cheeky grin. He couldn’t have been more than two years old.
Behind him, in the doorway to the kitchen, was a young woman. She was really glamorous. The first thing I noticed was her shoes: massive brown strappy wedges, probably four or five inches high. Despite this, she was really petite. She wore a fitted denim skirt to her knees, which clung to her perfect figure and showed off her little bum. Her red blouse revealed a hint of cleavage. Her hair was blonde and in very big, loose curls, like she’d spent hours styling it. Her lips were pink and her eyes black with kohl and mascara. As soon as she saw me, she gave me a warm smile.
‘Oh, hello, love,’ she said. ‘And what’s this one called, Kev?’
‘This is Holly,’ Kev said.
The woman smiled again. She was holding a cup of tea in her hand. ‘Ah, yes, of course!’ she said. ‘Your mum works at the school, doesn’t she? Come on in. I’m Lisa. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Er, OK,’ I replied. ‘Thanks.’
‘Not a problem,’ Lisa chirped. She didn’t flinch as her son tugged at her skirt. ‘But you wouldn’t mind taking your shoes off, would you, sweetheart? I’ve just hoovered my carpets. What do you take?’
‘Just milk, thanks,’ I said, as I took off my black school shoes and left them by the door. Kev did the same.
‘Daddy, daddy, daddy,’ the little boy said. ‘Daddy!’
‘Ssh, Saif,’ Lisa said. ‘Honestly, he’s been playing up all day. Won’t go to bed until his dad gets in. It drives me bloody daft, so it does.’
Saif bounded into Kev’s arms and he picked him up.
‘Go on into the lounge,’ Lisa told me. She was standing next to me now, and I was close enough to smell her expensive perfume. She was towering over me in her wedges but I didn’t dare ask why only she was allowed to wear shoes in the house.
‘Make yourself at home while I put the kettle on. Kev, could you try and get him down? He’s been running riot all day. Honestly, Holly, I don’t know how I manage sometimes.’
As I was left alone with Lisa, and the kettle whistled in the background, I felt really weird. It was strange to know that Kev had yet another girlfriend and family, but that wasn’t what surprised me the most. Lisa was so glamorous. She looked a bit like a Barbie doll. She obviously took care of herself, and her house was immaculate.
She was the kind of woman who’d probably be able to go out on a Saturday night and pull pretty much any guy she wanted. What the hell was she doing with a scruffy middle-aged man like Kev? I wondered if she knew she was sharing him with two others. Surely she must have an idea. Why else didn’t Kev live with her, or offer to marry her? Why else was she left looking after little Saif on her own?
‘Here you go, darling,’ she said sweetly, as she handed me my tea and plonked herself next to me on the sofa. ‘Milk, no sugar.’
‘Thanks,’ I replied. Suddenly I was struck by the most awful pang of guilt. What if she didn’t know about Liz and Kev’s Pakistani wife? What if he’d spun her some crazy story and she thought she was the only woman in his life? Then I thought about what we’d just done and I felt a little knot form in my stomach – a horrible, gnawing knot of guilt.
This woman has just made me a cup of tea, I thought. I’m sitting on her couch, drinking from her mug, she’s calling me sweetheart and love and darling, and I’ve just had sex with her boyfriend. What kind of person does that make me?
Maybe it shows how well Kev and the others had groomed me that I’d already started to blame myself for the situation. Instead of wondering why Lisa didn’t bat an eyelid at having a random fourteen-year-old in her front room, brought there by her scruffy lover, I blamed myself for being there. Here she was, being so nice to me, and I’d just shagged the father of her child in the back of his car.
God, I told myself. You really are a bloody slag, aren’t you?
Lisa swept her mass of blonde hair over her shoulder, as she reached into an expensive-looking handbag, from which she produced an even more expensive-looking mobile phone. ‘Excuse me a sec,’ she said. ‘Just sending a quick text.’
I scanned her front room as she tapped away on her phone with her perfectly manicured nails, the same shade of pink as her lips. The
room was full of nice things: an expensive leather sofa, dozens of pricey-looking toys for Saif and a big flat-screen TV.
‘Your house is lovely,’ I said, without quite meaning to.
Lisa’s face lit up. ‘Oh, thanks, love,’ she said. ‘D’you like it? I’ve been doing it up bit by bit. I’ve just done the kitchen. I want to do the garden next. I’d really like a lovely rose bush. I keep on at Kev to buy me one but he says he buys me enough things!’ She tipped back her head and her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, as she let out a girly laugh. ‘Men, eh? What are they like? They just don’t understand these things.’
I stayed silent.
‘Anyway,’ she went on. ‘I’ll have plenty of time on my hands when Saif starts going to nursery a few days a week. Don’t know what I’ll do with myself, to be honest! But I do like the idea of being a lady of leisure. Doesn’t that sound fun?’
I had no idea. ‘I guess,’ I shrugged. I didn’t ask if she had a job, or planned to get one. I think I already had my answer. Saif was the same age as Amy, but Mum was run ragged trying to make ends meet as she juggled work and her kids. Although Saif was a real livewire, Lisa’s life was very different.
Kev appeared in the doorway. ‘That’s him off,’ he said. ‘Finally.’
Lisa rolled her eyes. ‘Thank God.’ She turned to me, and gave me a friendly nudge. ‘Kev comes in and does all the nice, fun things and Saif thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread. Won’t go to bed without his daddy. Of course, he doesn’t listen to a bloody word I say all day.’
I studied Kev’s face for a flicker of a reaction, but there was none.
‘Anyway,’ Lisa said, breezily. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting Holly home?’
‘Relax,’ Kev said. ‘You’re fine, aren’t you? It’s not that late.’
I opened my mouth to reply, but I wasn’t sure what answer was expected of me.
Lisa’s beaming smile slipped for just a second. In almost a whisper, she said: ‘Come on, Kev. We don’t want her mum wondering where she’s got to, do we?’