by Holly Archer
I still loved my travel and tourism class best of all my lessons. There were only around eight of us who’d chosen to do it as a GCSE and we all got on really well. Needless to say, none of the others had a clue about my warped double life – not even the two Asian lads. Our little class felt really safe and cosy but, at the same time, it was the only place I could truly escape, as I learned about lots of far-off places – places hundreds of miles from Telford and the Wrekin and Kev and Mr Khan. When the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, I always felt a bit sad at having to snap back into the real world. Not that I ever let on how much I really enjoyed it, as I didn’t want to seem uncool.
I guess I still dreamed of being an air hostess, but I only allowed myself to think about travelling the world when I was in the confines of that little room. Most other times, the future just wasn’t on my radar. Living day to day – hour to hour, even – was hard enough.
One day, travel and tourism had just finished and I was walking through the corridor on the way to my maths class when one of the boys in my year grabbed my arm and beckoned to his mates. His name was Dave and he was a right loudmouth.
‘Hey, Holly,’ he said, as a small group of spotty teenage boys gathered around him. ‘Is it true you give out blow jobs for a tenner?’
Jenny was standing beside me and she burst out laughing as my face burned scarlet.
‘Ha!’ she said. ‘What a load of shit! Why would you even say that?’
Dave looked at me, waiting for a response. I felt frozen to the spot. It was the moment I’d been dreading. If everyone at school had sussed what I’d been up to, I’d be ribbed mercilessly there, too, and every boy in my year would think I was fair game. School was the only place where I could blend into the background, the only place where no one called me a slag. I just couldn’t cope with that being snatched away from me.
‘Dickhead,’ I said, with as much conviction as I could. ‘Who’d give you a blow job anyway?’
Jenny grabbed my arm and giggled and, to my relief, Dave’s mates laughed too. He looked a little sheepish at my comeback. No one at school ever mentioned blow jobs to me again.
At home, I think Mum was so harassed with bringing up five kids and working full time that she didn’t pick up on the subtle signs of what was happening to me. I don’t blame her, because I worked so hard at keeping the truth hidden.
My nights were planned meticulously. Mr Khan would pick me up on my way home from school or, shortly after I’d got home, he’d call and order me to meet him. I’d be gone about an hour and I’d get back just before Mum came in. Then, I’d usually do my homework and have my dinner before Kev would summon me out. I’d tell Mum I was just going out with Carly and she never had any reason to doubt me. Kev hadn’t yet started to push the boundaries, to keep me out later and later. I was always back by around half-nine and tucked up in bed in plenty of time for a good night’s sleep before school.
The changes in my behaviour were very slow and subtle. I’d once had a great relationship with Phil, laughing at all of his jokes, no matter how bad they were. Now, I bit his head off at every turn, especially if he dared try to criticise me for always being out.
‘Don’t you think you should stay in tonight, Holly?’ he said. ‘You’re always out. You treat this place like a hotel and it’s not acceptable. Your mum could do with some help with the girls.’
This made me mad, even as Amy looked at me pleadingly, all cute in her pink pyjamas, as she waited to be carried up to bed. I could tell she found it confusing that I went out more and more but, as much as I loved her, it was the least of my worries. If I didn’t keep going out, God knows what would happen to her. I had to keep going. I had to protect her, and Lauren, and Gemma, and Mum, and everyone else who meant anything to me.
‘Just leave me alone!’ I snapped. ‘You’re not my dad! You can’t tell me what to do. They’re your kids. You had them, you deal with them.’
Phil’s face was like thunder. ‘Do you know how hard your mum and I work to support you all? Do you know how hard it is for her, trying to work full time and look after you and do all the housework? You never lift a finger, Holly, and neither does Gemma, come to think of it. You swan in and out without so much as helping wash some dishes. Well, that has to change.’
I wanted to slap him, I really did. I couldn’t believe he was making such a fuss over some dishes. A pile of dirty plates and cups seemed like the least important thing in the world to me.
‘Leave me alone!’ I snapped back. ‘You heard what I said. You’re not my dad.’
I grabbed my coat and slammed the door behind me, as I raced to the end of the road and jumped into Kev’s car, just in time to speed off to meet the Chinese man at his posh house on the other side of town. It was a Tuesday, after all.
As for Mum, I think she thought my mood swings were just typical teenage stuff. Gemma had been a bit the same a few years before and nothing terrible had happened. She’d just grown out of it.
Weirdly, it was Lauren and Amy who first started to notice things. Slowly but surely, I could feel our relationship starting to change. I still loved them both to bits, but I knew they were upset that I spent so much time going out and I hardly had any time to play with them. Amy became especially clingy whenever I was at home. We’d always been close and she must have sensed something was wrong, even though she was just a toddler. It’s funny how children are sometimes more intuitive than adults.
It all came to a head one day when I left my phone lying on the coffee table for just a fraction of a second. I’m not sure why I took my eyes off it, even for a moment, as I was always so protective of it. If Mum had read through my texts or looked at my call log, she’d have been extremely suspicious – even though I’d been savvy enough to give people like Kev and Mr Khan code names, so it looked like it was simply other girls in my class who’d been phoning me. Even Beaver, who still called occasionally, despite his terrible English, had an alias.
But Amy knew that every time she saw me on my phone, I’d soon disappear, so she hid it in her toy box. For an hour and a half I searched the house high and low, in absolute hysterics. I was terrified, both that Mum would find the phone and work out what I’d been doing, but also that Mr Khan or Kev had been trying to get hold of me. If I’d ignored them, who knows what the consequences would be?
‘Where the hell is my phone?’ I roared. ‘Where is it? I have to find it and I have to find it now!’
‘Why are you so upset, Holly?’ Mum asked. ‘It must be in the house somewhere, we’ll find it. It’s not the end of the world, being without your phone for five minutes.’
But there was no consoling me. I was crying so hard I could hardly breathe, choking out big throaty sobs that made my chest heave. Lauren had turned round from the TV programme she was watching and was looking at me like I’d gone mad. Mum obviously thought it was a typical teenage tantrum – that I’d perhaps been texting some boy in my class who I had a crush on – and continued half-heartedly trying to calm me down while she wiped down the kitchen worktops and kept an eye on the girls.
Eventually a distressed-looking Amy grabbed me by the hand and led me to her toy box in the corner of the living room, where she fished it out.
‘Sorry,’ she said, with a little forlorn look.
‘Amy!’ I cried in frustration, as I noticed a missed call from Kev from half an hour beforehand. ‘Don’t ever take my phone again! This isn’t a stupid game.’
Mum had come back into the room and she folded her arms. ‘Holly, she’s just a child,’ she said angrily. ‘She was just playing. There’s no need to speak to her like that. Apologise to your sister, now.’
But I was already racing towards the front door. ‘You just don’t understand, any of you,’ I said, as tears sprang to my eyes again. ‘I’m going to Carly’s.’
Of course, I wasn’t going to Carly’s. I practically ran to the end of the street and jumped straight into Kev’s car, as he bollocked me for keeping him wa
iting for so long.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘My sister took my phone and hid it in her toy box. I was looking for it everywhere.’
I caught sight of my reflection in the wing mirror. My face was still blotchy and tear-stained, my eyes red from crying. The mascara I’d slicked on before school in the morning had gathered in little puddles above my cheeks. I wasn’t sure if Kev noticed. If he had, he certainly wasn’t going to ask me what was wrong. I quickly dabbed at my face while Kev swore at me and called me a bitch and warned me not to waste his time.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, robotically. ‘It wasn’t my fault. My sister hid my phone.’
I was already feeling a little nervous, as I’d come on my period that morning. I guessed I wouldn’t be any use to Kev, but I figured I’d better turn up anyway and explain my situation to him, just to keep the peace. In a way, I was secretly relieved. I wasn’t really in the mood for being pimped out and it was the perfect excuse. Or so I thought.
‘Well you’re here now, I suppose,’ Kev said. ‘We might as well get going. You need to keep your phone away from your fucking little sister. I don’t want this happening again.’
I nodded. ‘OK. But I can’t really do anything today anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.’
I could see the fury in Kev’s deep brown eyes. ‘Oh, and why not? This better be fucking good, Holly. I’ve got two guys waiting for you. We’re already late.’
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as he jolted to a halt at a red light and my seatbelt chaffed against my neck.
‘Because I’ve got my period,’ I explained. I blushed a little as I said it. It was weird talking to a guy about that kind of stuff, especially an older one.
I’d been working, if you can call it that, for Kev for nearly three months at this stage, but he still hadn’t managed to catch me on my period. I was still quite young, so they were fairly irregular. I expected Kev to explode with rage, to somehow blame me for not being able to control my menstrual cycle. But he simply opened his glove compartment and produced two neat little washing-up sponges, which he’d cut into perfect cylinders. He’d also cut out the middle bit, so they were hollow.
‘Well, here you go,’ he said. ‘Take them. That’ll sort you out.’
I looked at them in confusion, as Kev shook his head in disbelief. ‘This happens all the time,’ he sighed. ‘Just shove one of those up yourself and, you know, problem solved.’
I took the sponges and studied them for a moment, still not quite sure how they worked.
‘They won’t feel a thing,’ Kev said. ‘They won’t even know, trust me. Just pull it out afterwards but make sure they don’t see you doing it. I don’t want them asking for any money off because of this – what will we say – situation.’
I was stunned. Kev really had thought of everything but, again, he was so experienced. It took me a little while to realise that I was probably his main source of income at that time. Sure, he had his takeaway, but it was always really quiet and he never seemed to be there and the food looked pretty bloody unappetising. What was the point, when he was making hundreds of pounds a week selling me? Still, I could tell he was anxious to make sure he got every possible penny he could. After all, he had a wife and two girlfriends to support, not to mention countless children.
‘Oh,’ was all I could say. ‘Oh. Right.’
I was surprised when Kev pulled up at a takeaway just a few yards from his own. It seemed a bit close to home. Didn’t he worry that people would recognise him round there and realise what he was up to? But just like he hadn’t been fazed when he’d taken me to the house next to his own, he parked the car and led me inside, as bold as brass.
It’s funny how many takeaways I was taken to that seemed to have strange opening hours. Often they’d be closed when we appeared, usually in the early evening, when you’d expect them to be busiest.
This place was the same. Now, I can’t even recall what the shop floor looked like, because I was led straight to a godforsaken bedroom at the back. It was tiny, but there were two single beds at each side of the room. There was no other furniture, just two small piles of clothes next to each bed. The window was covered not by a curtain or a blind but by a large piece of discoloured white cloth that looked like it had been hanging there for years. There were spiders’ webs dangling from the ceiling and little spots of mould flecked the beige walls. The smell of damp and sweat, mixed with the greasy aromas from the shop just a few feet away, was overpowering.
I’d barely taken in my surroundings when two Pakistani men entered. The first was an older man, probably in his mid-fifties. He was one of the oddest-looking people I’ve ever seen. He had a huge, bulbous head, with the thinnest covering of jet-black hair, which made him look a bit like an alien. His teeth were horrific and stained dark brown. There were big gaps between them and quite a few were missing. He started to speak and his voice sounded really funny, too. It was squeaky and high-pitched, like it didn’t really belong to him. He told me, in his broken English, that he was the chef but I didn’t really care. I didn’t want to know a single thing about him. I just wanted to do what I had to do and get the hell out of this pokey, smelly room.
The second man was much younger. He was really well built, over six feet tall, with a broad, muscular body. I already felt apprehensive, thinking of his weight on top of me, as he towered over me. I remember thinking how small I felt as I stood next to him and realised that he could actually really hurt me, if he wanted to. I hoped he didn’t, and that, like the rest of them, he was just after a quick, cheap thrill.
‘We’re going to do a deal,’ Kev said. ‘Tonight you’re doing two for the price of one.’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Don’t forget the things I gave you in the car.’
Instinctively, I said, ‘No! That’s not fair.’
Kev grabbed my arm with just enough force to make me inhale sharply. ‘Holly,’ he said. ‘It’s Saif’s birthday next month. I’m flat out. Lisa’s asked me to get him a million and one things. These guys work here for next to nothing; they can’t afford my normal rates but we don’t have anyone else tonight. You’ll do what you’re told.’
I felt pain shoot through me as my stomach cramped. ‘Do I have to, Kev? I told you I’m on my period.’
Kev’s fingers were still digging into my arm. ‘Look, Holly,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to tell your mum what you’ve been doing? The sooner you do it, the sooner you can go home.’
It was the first time he’d mentioned Mum to me, and it knocked me off guard big time. Now it wasn’t just Mr Khan who was claiming he’d tell Mum, it was Kev too. He must have seen the horror on my face. He didn’t need to say a single word more.
‘Where’s the loo?’ I asked quietly, and he led me out to the corridor between the room and the shop, pointing to a door on the left.
It was tiny, with just a little cracked sink and a toilet that looked like it had never been cleaned. It made my stomach turn to think that most of the people who used it probably made or served food. I wondered if this was it, if it was the only bathroom these men had. Their room certainly smelled like they didn’t take many showers.
As I held the sponge, I thought about Kev’s threat to tell Mum. It didn’t for a second occur to me that he’d never do it, because Mum would most likely have gone to the police and his whole sordid little business would have been history and he’d probably have ended up in jail. All I could think of was how scared I was that he’d start threatening to hurt my family, just like Mr Khan had, but he didn’t have to. He’d seen the fear in my eyes when he’d threatened to out me, and that was enough to keep me in line.
I took out my tampon and replaced it with the sponge. It felt a bit weird, but I tried to console myself with the fact it wouldn’t be in for long. Then I crept back into the bedroom. Kev and the old chef had disappeared and the younger man was sitting on the bed in his pants. The first thing I noticed was that there was a big hole in the side of them.
He pin
ned me to the bed without a word, and his sweaty, stale smell filled my nostrils as he entered me. It was painful but, as always, I knew I had to try my hardest not to show my discomfort. If I’d thought the Bangladeshi man in the other restaurant had taken his time, he had nothing on this one. I stared at the cracked, mouldy ceiling for what felt like hours, as he kept going and going and going. Every time I hoped it was over, he’d somehow manage to carry on. By the time he’d finally finished, I was in real pain and I winced as he climbed off me without saying a word.
I ran to the little toilet and took the bloody sponge out, replacing it with the second. It was only when I went to walk back to the bedroom that I realised I was wearing nothing but my underwear. For the first time, I hadn’t given my modesty a second thought. It was like I’d become braindead.
I lay back down on the bed as the second man came to me. He looked a bit pathetic, with his wrinkly little body and huge, misshapen head. I had to hold my breath as he climbed on top of me. His breath and body odour were both terrible, enough to make me retch. I tilted my head as far away from his face as I could and batted him away when he tried to kiss me.
‘No,’ I said, as firmly as I could.
He didn’t protest, he just forced himself inside me and started to have sex with me. The first man had taken so long that I was really, really sore down there and every move he made was agony. Thankfully he didn’t take half as long, but it still felt like ages. I was so relieved when he finished that I jumped from the bed and threw my clothes back on. I’d been in there for ages, so I was dreading what Kev would have to say.