Chapter Nine

Bright sparkling Christmas lights lit up the street, and shop windows danced with displays full of bright red bows, Santas, elves and sleighs full of sacks with toys spilling out, showing the promise of delights to come. All of this gave the whole world expectations they couldn’t meet and put people into debt they couldn’t afford.

Both men and women went from pub to pub, singing, dancing and laughing, dressed in their party clothes, and all seemed to have more money than sense. None of them looked as though they had a care in the world.

But Annie wasn’t laughing, nor was she waiting for a Christmas promise. Punters in the brothel had been thin on the ground, so she’d headed out into the streets to find the party revellers. She’d worked all night, but after the last hit of drugs, she no longer had any money. But she didn’t care. The drugs had overtaken her mind and she pulled herself, inch by inch, from shop to shop, holding onto the walls, doors and windows for support. She needed to sit down, close her eyes and more than anything else, she wanted to sleep. She needed to recover for just a while, and for her head to stop spinning, before she went back to work, before she looked for yet another punter, another good for nothing slob of a man to pleasure and endure for what would feel like the millionth time that year.

Her mind spun and she looked around for somewhere to sit. She knew that at thirty years old she ought to be wishing that her life too was one big party. That she’d be out there drinking, singing and dancing with the partygoers, that she’d be having fun and enjoying life. Or perhaps she should be wishing for an armchair, a fire to sit before, hot tea or cocoa and a place where she could curl up and be warm. She couldn’t remember being warm for such a long time and the thought of a cosy room, with a fire, a Christmas tree and gifts brought a lump to her throat. All of this was what normal people would wish for at her age, but no, not her; all she wanted in her life was heroin. The drugs – the heroin – was like air itself to her and once she had it, she was happy. She knew she’d begin to feel calm, she’d escape the turmoil of life and sink into the darkness, a place where she’d finally find solace.

‘Come on, love, you looking for a bit of work?’ A man sneered as he grabbed at her arm. ‘I could do with a bit.’ He began to unzip his trousers. ‘How much for a quickie? Will a fiver do it?’ He pushed her against a wall, but Annie shrugged him off.

‘Get off me, asshole, and no, a fiver would not bloody do it. What do you think this is?’ She pointed up and down at herself. ‘Bloody charity? Now, get off me.’ Annie moved away from the man, looking up in an attempt to make out his face, but his features were blurred. The image of him swam around before her, and she steadied herself as a feeling of nausea overtook her.

‘I think beggars can’t be choosers, love, don’t you?’ Once again he grabbed at her arm, pulled at the tight, black top that barely covered her and exposed her breasts. ‘There you go, that’s what I want to see.’ His mouth suddenly fell upon her, making her squirm and scream. She grabbed at his hair, pulling his head backwards, and lashed out with her nails.

‘I said get off me, you asshole.’ Her fingers clawed at his face. ‘You don’t touch me unless I say so. Do you get that?’

‘Or what, you damned slapper?’ Again his mouth was upon her, his teeth sinking into her flesh, and she squealed. Then he froze. His body suddenly left hers and was catapulted backwards and into the roadside, where a car swerved and narrowly missed him. Through the haze, Annie saw him grab at the kerb, before crawling at speed on his hands and knees in the opposite direction, and for a moment she just stood there without moving.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Griff’s voice seemed to come from every direction. It echoed around her like a bass drum, but she couldn’t focus and didn’t know where he was. ‘You’re off your goddamned face again, Annie, aren’t you?’ he growled. ‘Was he paying for that shag, you tart? Because from where I was standing he looked as though he was getting a damn freebie.’

Panic set in and she tried to move. She had to get away, she couldn’t face her pimp, not right now. She needed to escape. ‘He … he was taking advantage of me, Griff, honest,’ she yelled. ‘Wanted it for a bloody fiver.’ She felt Griff grab her by the shoulders and she could just about focus on his face, which she quickly realised was now within inches of hers and she didn’t like it.

‘What the hell did you take this time, Annie? Heroin … again?’ His voice bellowed and her whole body began to tremble. She felt him release her, giving her the opportunity to try and move away from his reach.

‘You don’t understand, Griff. I need it. I … I just have to have it.’ She stood up and set off in a haphazard zigzag motion, her legs seeming to travel in different directions, and she held onto everything she could grab, her long auburn hair bouncing around her face. She stumbled and fell against a wall. Pain shot through her shoulder, her whole body became disorientated, her arms and legs struggled to work in unison and she tried in vain to inch her way along the cold, wet pavement.

Every movement took effort, but Annie kept going. The road was long, the crowds were thick and groups of young men were congregating outside the pubs where they stood together chatting, smoking and drinking. The music seemed to get louder. Multi-coloured Christmas lights swam brightly before her eyes, and one road morphed into the other. Everywhere looked the same. Annie tried to make her way between the crowds, but found it difficult to negotiate her route as she crashed into men, spilling their drinks, causing them to shout after her as she went. She searched the side streets; she was close to the brothel and she was sure there was an alley, but this was London, the whole city was a maze, and in her confusion, she failed to find it. She looked up and down. She was sure there had been an entrance she’d used before. It had been between one of the shops and a car park, but was it on this street or another? She shook her head, there were hundreds of car parks in this area. But she seemed to remember a ramp, it was above the shops and it occurred to her that she’d once used that same escape route to outrun the police.

‘Come on, where are you?’ A fire escape, that’s right, there’d been a fire escape, it had led to a rooftop that had then led her to the back corridor of a hotel. But which hotel? By rights she shouldn’t be able to remember anything, especially after she’d taken enough drugs to floor an elephant. But constant use made her more tolerant and now the more she took, the more she wanted.

She looked over her shoulder. She had to escape Griff, but she couldn’t run. Her stilettos hurt, her heels were raw, and she felt sure that they were bleeding. She pulled at her skirt; it was short and tight and she felt the seam tear as she stumbled. She was out of breath, her heart palpitating and her mind spinning when she found herself being pushed from behind and forced into an alley, where she was suddenly thrown to the ground. She landed heavily on her hands and knees, only to look up and straight into Griff’s blurred, furious, contorted face.

It was then that she felt the pain. It seared through her head as Griff grabbed at her hair, pulling it from the roots. ‘Where’s my money, bitch?’ he shouted, right before she felt the sharp slap strike her face and she was sure that Griff’s hand would have left a mark. A second slap saw her whole body propelled across the rain-soaked tarmac. She landed heavily against the alley wall, screaming as her ribs crunched, her ankle twisted and the heel of her stiletto snapped. She closed her eyes and kicked the shoes from her feet and into the gutter, while she waited in fear, wondering where the next blow would come from.

‘I haven’t had any punters, Griff. Honest,’ she cried, opening her eyes and hoping that he would believe her. ‘It’s Christmas and everyone just wants to get pissed.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Annie, don’t lie to me! I’ve been watching you. Saw you had a couple of punters but guess you used your earnings to score. You need teaching a lesson. You can’t get so frigging high, not when you’re supposed to be working and not on my money. I’ve told you this so many damn times, Annie. Are you crazy?’ Griff’s voice had turned into a high pitched squeal and he stamped to the other side of the alley, kicked an empty beer can at the wall and then yelled with pain as he smashed his fist into a metal rubbish bin. ‘See what you made me do, Annie?’ He walked towards her showing her his injured bright red knuckles. ‘Did you see, Annie, did you see that?’ His knuckles were millimetres away from her face. ‘And look at you. How the hell are you supposed to attract a bloke if you look like that? Hey? You look a fucking mess. You’re old, you’re dirty and you stink, do you know that? You need a goddamned bath, preferably in bleach,’ he yelled. ‘And that geezer, he’d have paid for it. But you, you were too friggin’ high to negotiate with him.’ He turned away and kicked at the kerb. ‘You do know how much you owe me, don’t you? And I need my money, Annie. If you’re high, you can’t work, and if you can’t bloody work, you can’t pay me and if you can’t pay me, I can’t pay the rent on the house. Don’t you get any of that?’

Annie fumbled with her unwashed hair and pushed it away from her face. She was sure she looked okay, sure she didn’t need a bath, not for a few more days, and she fumbled around in the dark, looking for her bag. ‘I … I’m sorry, I’ll sort my make-up out, honest. I’ll try harder, Griff, I promise. I’ll do better.’ She spotted the bag and made a sudden dash across the tarmac on her hands and knees in an attempt to put some distance between herself and Griff. But the drugs made her weak and she stumbled over litter that filled the gutter and landed heavily on her face. ‘Griff, please.’ She began to laugh but didn’t know why. ‘I’ll pay you … another day. That’s right … yes … I’ll get some work … I’ll pay you another day … tomorrow … I’ll pay you tomorrow.’ Her mind spun round like a spinning top; she could barely speak, darkness threatened. She got back up and onto her knees in another attempt to crawl across the alley. But then a sudden pain hit her as broken glass cracked under her knees, making her scream as she felt the flesh tear.

Annie turned and sat down while she inspected her knees. Then she looked up to where a blurred image of Griff hovered above her. He glared for what seemed like forever and then suddenly, without warning, she felt his hand grab her throat. He squeezed hard and she couldn’t breathe. Her whole body left the floor, her legs dangled in the air and once again she felt him strike her, a sharp heavy slap that hit her square across the face. Griff let go and she fell back to the floor. She spat the blood from her mouth and made a feeble attempt to creep to safety, as nausea once again overtook her. She began to vomit uncontrollably, before managing to find a space beneath a fire escape, where she curled up in a ball. It looked like a fortress of metal, a place that would surround her, like a protective cage. If only she’d realised that Griff could easily climb under it too.

‘Annie, don’t be stupid, you can’t escape me. You do know that, don’t you?’ Griff’s voice echoed. ‘Besides, where the hell would you go? You owe me, you bitch. You owe me for looking after you, don’t you? I give you somewhere to live, I protect you and for what? You pay me a tiny bit of what you earn, that’s not too much to ask, Annie, is it?’

Raindrops continued to fall. They’d previously been gentle and sporadic, but now they fell heavily, splashing down and creating puddles. A black cat scarpered past. It headed to the fire escape, spotted the couple lurking below and leapt out of their way and up the steps without effort.

For a moment Annie sat staring into space, wishing that she too could escape in an upward direction. Nothing seemed to matter any more. She knew that Griff could and would easily kill her if he wanted to, yet still she smiled. She looked up at the sky and for a moment she wished she could die, wished she could disappear or fly upward to heaven. But then Griff kicked out and another more powerful blow struck her. She landed heavily and, with tears streaming down her face, she stared into a muddy, oil-filled puddle on the ground. The puddle was like a mirror, a black, glassy mirror into her life. She looked at her reflection. Griff was right; she was old for a prostitute, she was dirty, her hair was messy and her mascara was smeared across her face. For just a moment the puddle was like looking down a deep, dark, endless hole and straight into hell.

‘Hell … That’s where I’ll be going, Griff. I’ll be going to hell.’ She continued to stare into the puddle, convinced that nothing could be more true. There would be no beautiful ending for her, no rocking chair by the fire, no Christmas tree or cocoa, and definitely no pearly gates. No. She wasn’t a good person, she’d never really done anything worthwhile and had been evil to those around her her whole life. After all, how many mothers would empty their child’s home and take their toys in order to pay for drugs? Especially just before Christmas. Everything she’d touched had turned bad, and it was no wonder that everyone she’d ever loved had turned against her. It had all been her own fault.

There had been a time when she’d wanted it all: a normal life with real people around her, and a real family. Just a few years before she’d tried to get out of the game. Her life had been okay, for a while. She’d met Bastion. He’d been a good, caring and loving man who’d given her time, respect and a home, and she had a daughter, Lily. She’d tried so hard to make him happy, but had failed miserably at making herself happy. But she’d been young, just over twenty years old, and the responsibility of caring for a baby had been far too much for her. No one had ever told her how hard it would be, and in the end her whole mind had shut down. She’d begun resenting Lily and had made a complete mess of being a mother to a beautiful, innocent child. Besides, she’d needed the drugs, the call from them had been strong, and finding her next fix of heroin became more important to her than anything else. There had been days when her mind had been totally consumed and she’d thought of nothing else. The shaking, scratching and nausea had taken over and she’d walked around in a zombie-like state; she had thought nothing of stealing Bastion’s money or possessions to get her next fix.

‘Get up, Annie, you’re going back to the damned house,’ Griff demanded, while his foot kicked at the tarmac. ‘Get yourself cleaned up. I want my money, and I want it now or else.’

Annie began to shake. ‘Griff, please, I’ve … I’ve said I’ll pay you tomorrow.’ She knew what Griff was capable of and she instantly began to look for a way to run, or for a person who might help her. But the sound of the road was distant and the cars sped past the end of the alley without caring.

‘Get up.’ His voice was more demanding and Annie found herself on her hands and knees staring up at him. She was more than willing to beg. Her eyes followed his stride as he stepped out from under the fire escape. She pressed herself against the wall and wiped her mouth; she needed to rid herself of the taste of blood which had accumulated on her tongue and the taste, along with the stress, once again made her gag. She spat at the floor, before she looked up and watched as Griff paced up and down in the rain.

‘How are you going to pay me?’ He laughed. ‘Do you even know how much you owe, Annie? And, if you do, where the hell will you find that sort of money in a day? Eh?’ He kicked out at her, catching her knee with his boot. ‘Ten grand, Annie. That’s what you owe, and every day you owe it, it goes up just a bit more.’ His nose was almost touching hers. ‘You’ve got just over a week. One week … I want my money by Christmas Eve, Annie, and then you know what has to happen.’ He stood back and once again he punched at the bin. ‘You can’t use the house for free, Annie. It’s not right. The other girls … they’ll think I’ve gone soft and I haven’t.’ He paused and leaned forward. ‘You know I don’t want to hurt you, Annie.’ His hand reached out and stroked her face. ‘It’d be such a shame to have to cut you. But I will if you don’t pay. Do you get that?’

Annie cowered, sobbed and leaned back against the wall. She may as well let him kill her now. There was no way she could pay him so quickly, not ten thousand, not in a week – not even in a year! She had to think of something to stall him.

‘I need longer. You have to give me longer.’ Her mind spun around like a Catherine wheel on Bonfire Night. Sparks shot around behind her eyes and once again she looked down and into the puddle, in an attempt to make the image stop. She needed an excuse. ‘I … I have a child to feed. It’s Bastion, her father, he’s cruel, he expects so much, and Lily, she’s a demanding child, she always needs clothes, food and I have to pay for that flat too or she’d be homeless,’ she lied. The truth was that Annie had never provided for her daughter, not in money or in love. ‘Bastion, he’s lazy, he doesn’t work, hasn’t worked for years, blames it all on looking after the girl and I have to give him money, she’d starve if I didn’t. You do know that, don’t you?’

Griff stopped abruptly. A leery smile crossed his face. ‘Oh, Annie. How could I forget about sweet little Lily?’ He rubbed his chin, stuck his tongue in his cheek and then pursed his lips. ‘How old is she nowadays?’ He leaned against the fire escape, hovering aggressively above her. ‘She must be getting real grown up by now.’

Even through the fog that surrounded her mind, Annie had caught the tone in Griff’s voice. ‘No … No … No … She’s just eight years old, Griff,’ she slurred. ‘She’s just a baby and you wouldn’t want a baby, would you?’

Griff nodded, his hand rubbing at his unshaven face. ‘Annie, I think you should bring her to visit me.’ He paused. ‘Yeah, I’d like that, and I’m sure she’d like to come pay me a visit before Christmas, wouldn’t she?’ He smirked, cracked his knuckles and nodded. ‘I bet she’s grown up a lot, I mean, how long is it since I last saw her?’

‘Oh, no, you don’t, Griff. No way. I’ve told you, she’s just a baby. You can’t have her.’ Annie sat up with her back against the wall. ‘She’s too young, you bastard. You can’t do that.’

Once again he grabbed her throat, and she felt the pressure intensify as his hand began to squeeze. ‘Annie, Annie, Annie, do you think I’m some kind of ogre? Do you really think I’m the kind of man that would do that to a tiny little girl?’ He let go of her. ‘I wouldn’t do that, not to a baby … No … I wouldn’t, but do you know what, Annie? I have a list of men a mile long that would and what’s more they’d pay me a lot of money for the damned privilege.’ Again he stopped and paced up and down the alley. ‘Truth is, Annie, I have to be paid and whether you like it or not, you owe me … You owe me a lot of money. So, you either pay up … or you bring me the girl. And if you don’t do either, I’ll kill you. And then, I’ll find her … I’ll hand her over to the men, I’ll let them have her and then, once she’s no use to me, I’ll kill her too. Do you get that, or are you really that stupid that you think you can rob me of what’s rightfully mine?’ He began to laugh. It was a shrill piercing laugh that could have easily broken glass and Annie felt a violent shaking begin from within. Griff was evil. He’d killed before and she knew that he meant every word. She closed her eyes, realising that she had no choice but to do what he said.