Page 208 of Strangers in my Bed


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“Cass, you need to come with me, please. Ant isn’t the man you think he is. Believe me, it isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

She wipes her tears away. “I’ve hurt him so bad, and I’ve hurt you, and I’ve cost everyone the friendship. I just can’t believe I did it.”

I’m shaking my head. “Ant isn’t hurt, and it’s not you who’s cost everyone the friendship. He’s a piece of shit with no conscience, and he’s been playing us both.”

She really does look like she hasn’t slept in days, her hair bound up on her head in a messy bun, with her skin drawn tight. Nothing like the radiant, happy woman she was when we first met.

“Cass,” I push. “Ant is a fucked up manipulator, and you have to believe me. I went to see his mother.”

Her eyes are like saucers.

“You saw Ant’s mum? The one who deserted him?!”

“Yeah, I saw his mum, and the Ant he’s shown us isn’t the Ant that he is. He’s a cold, vile prick, who lies and taints and buys his way in and out of everything. Trust me, you need to come with me now, please. Let’s go.”

She looks behind her. “But, I can’t. He’ll be calling soon. He’ll be checking in as soon as he hits the motorway!”

“Fuck him,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Cass, he’s abusing you. He’s slick, and he’s a good fucking liar, but believe me, he’s been playing sick games with you, right from the start. This is what coercion is. This is what controlling someone is. This is what grooming someone is. He’s been doing it to you since day one.”

She doesn’t want to believe me. I see her mind fighting itself, and we don’t have time. If Ant realises I’m here, or she doesn’t answer her phone on demand, he’ll be back here with a wheel spin, calling the police.

I can’t risk it. She has to know the truth.

I reach into my blazer pocket and hand her the picture, with another wave of sickness rising up in my guts.

Her focus says it all. Utter confusion as she sees the woman in the photo with the young boy sitting alongside her.

“What–?” she asks. “Is that–?”

“That’s Ant,” I tell her, and let her draw her own conclusion.

She clamps her hand over her mouth, but I wait a few seconds before I confirm the truth.

“That’s his mother. Callie-Ann. She was a young teenage mum who turned to prostitution to support herself. She ended up addicted to drugs, and alcohol, and under the control of a dangerous pimp called Robert.”

“Ant’s mum was a prostitute? They weren’t boyfriends with her all those times?”

“No. They weren’t boyfriends. She told Ant they were boyfriends in an attempt to make it easier, but they weren’t. They were clients. Largely sent there en mass by the sick piece of shit controlling her.”

“And Ant knew?”

I nod. “Yeah, it’s horrible. One night, when he was old enough to know what was happening, he lashed out at the seedy prick Robert, and Callie-Ann said that’s when things changed from horrific to even more so. The sick fuck gave Ant a ten-pound note and smiled at him, telling Ant that his mother was nothing but a cheap, needy slut and that cash is God. It’s sick, Cass. But so is he. So is Ant. He’s been living by those rules ever since.”

She stumbles backwards.

“A ten-pound note?”

“Yes, a ten-pound note which led to plenty more.”

I reach out to steady her, and she’s choking on sobs. “Yeah, I’ve seen it…”

“You’ve seen the ten-pound note? Jesus. Did he tell you about it?”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s in his bedside drawer, with a load of finger puppets.”

“That his mum gave him. Yes. What happened was disgusting all round. She was in a terrible place herself, and it’s a terrible situation that Ant was involved with. But Cass, Ant has made his choices through the rest of his life, and he’s been making them with you since day one. So, please, can we go now? I need to get you away from here.”

Cass looks at the picture again, with tears streaming down her face.

“He would have known from the moment he saw me. How could he not?”

I don’t say anything to that, letting her thoughts work for themselves.

“Fuck, Gerwyn, he must be so fucked up… so hurt…” She gives another sob. “How can I leave him? He must be so lost inside… and he loves me… as fucked up as it is, he loves me so much.”

I hate myself for having to tell her more, but I need her to come along with me, and I need us to get out of here right now.

“If he truly loved you, he wouldn’t have been treating you like this. Controlling you, and manipulating you to his will, and sending people along to the mattress room.”

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