Page 60 of The Engagement


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Beauty…deserves that. Hearing those words brought a smile to Belle’s face, but her mind leapt forward. She had that stupid trip, which would come around before she knew it. ‘Before…July, I hope,’ she said, just stopping herself from saying ‘before school finishes…’ She wondered if professional photographs would be her big break – a chance meeting in the park while she was on the swing, minding her own business, reshaping her entire future. If nothing else, it’d be something for Instagram. Though she mustn’t ever tell her mum or dad. They’d never understand, and her mum would go mental. ‘I’m off to France for a couple of months in the summer.’

‘July is ages away yet,’ he replied. ‘Plenty of time for a studio session and to get to know each other properly. Before we go away to France together.’

Belle’s eyes were saucers as she walked up the steps to her house, looking back over her shoulder to catch a last glimpse of the man from the park as she floated inside, light as a feather.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

MOLLY – THEN

The days turned into weeks turned into months. Luba had been busy corralling the four new girls from Romania to replace the ones that had vanished in the night a few months ago, leaving no trace apart from piles of discarded lingerie and short skirts on the floor, as if they’d simply stepped out of them and fled.

She’d taken the trip to Bucharest after Vaughn had threatened her, and returned with some fresh-faced girls, aged all of sixteen. Word was that it was above board and Luba had met with their parents and told them she was recruiting for the entertainment industry in London, explaining about the promising careers they’d have and just how much new talent was worth in such a diverse and welcoming city. Being from a village just outside the capital herself, Luba was living proof, in her white boots and skinny jeans and leather jacket and fake designer bag, that a life in London would be the best thing that could possibly happen to their daughters. More persuasive was that the girls would be able to send money home regularly in order to help their families. This sealed it.

In reality, when they arrived in London, Darren took their passports and holed them up on the third floor of the Cloisters and arranged for their photographs to be taken, while Luba explained what the entertainment industry in London, in their world anyway, entailed. But she still treated them as though they were made from glass, handling them delicately and carefully. She didn’t want anyone running away.

‘I feel so sick,’ Hannah whispered to Molly in their dressing room. ‘Every time I have to work, I feel like I’m gonna puke on the guy.’

Molly felt that every time, though didn’t say. She wasn’t unique or special in this place in that respect. No one truly wanted to be here, despite some who never complained or chatted about plans for their livesafterthe Cloisters, because they simply didn’t have any. She’d learnt to switch off from what she had to do once the doors opened. If she hadn’t pulled up the drawbridge to her soul every time she unbuttoned a man’s shirt, squirted oil from a squeezy bottle onto his hairy back, danced and squirmed in front of him naked (apart from a whisper of a thong around her hips until it came off) to tinny music piped into the rooms, then she reckoned there was a good chance she’d have lost her mind by now. Part of her was jealous of Hannah and that baby growing inside her. It gave her a reason to get out, a reason to know that something better was around the corner. Less than four months around the corner, by their reckoning.

‘Can you see anything?’ Hannah asked, standing in just her bra and knickers – white things that were comfortable and stretchy. She turned sideways so Molly could have a good look at her profile, the gentle curve that had formed between her hips.

‘There’s definitely a decent bump now.’ She clambered down off her bunk and squeezed Hannah’s upper arm, feeling its plumpness. ‘No doubt about that.Oohlittleman,’ she said in a baby voice as she stroked Hannah’s bulge. Hannah had decided it was a boy –hopedit was a boy, for his sake. She was too afraid a girl would end up with a life like theirs. ‘But you’re fleshing out everywhere. I think you’re good for a while.’ Molly had taken to eating less, giving Hannah most of her food to help her gain weight.

They both knew that being pregnant would normally mean trips to the doctor, letting the midwife press her fingertips gently into her belly, feeling for the head, the feet, the little rump of the baby inside, scans, blood tests and regular check-ups. But they didn’t have doctors here at the Cloisters. If one of them was sick, Luba brought pills or remedies from the chemist, and if it was something really bad, like an infected wound or something nasty down below, Darren would call Vaughn who would call his mate, ‘the Doctor’. The Doctor would make a brief house visit for a quick look and that was that. Everyone doubted he was a real doctor. He just had access to medicines that he had sent to the building, and no one asked how or why. But the pills usually worked.

Luba suddenly burst into the room, catching them off guard. She was carrying a large holdall and looked flustered. Unusually for her, her round cheeks were red-tinged, and her shoulders drawn up around her ears. ‘Where is Madalina? You seen her?’ Luba was breathless and her pupils were flared, filling her pale-grey eyes. She looked lopsided, weighed down by whatever was in the bag. Madalina was one of the new girls.

Molly and Hannah both shook their heads. Molly darted in front of Hannah, trying to act naturally as she obscured her belly, while Hannah fumbled her way into her dressing gown, though the way the belt strained around her enlarged middle, it only served to make her look larger. ‘No, why?’ Molly said. ‘Isn’t she with the others?’

‘No, no, she gone.’ She gave a furtive look down at the bag, touching her brow with her free hand. That’s when Molly noticed the cut on her temple. It looked fresh and had smeared blood around its edges, as though Luba had wiped it with a wet tissue. ‘Oh, bloody ’ell, Vaughn gone kill me,’ she whimpered, her accent highlighted by her distress. ‘I thought she in here with you girls. Jesus wept.’ She crossed herself and muttered something at the ceiling. ‘That is second one gone in two months. What is wrong they don’t want to work? They think they can get better at home? Pfft.’ She made an indignant sound.

‘Want some of this?’ Molly pulled open a drawer in the chest where they kept their work underwear and reached into the back, pulling out a bottle of vodka. ‘We’re going to have some. Aren’t we, Han?’

Hannah nodded. They both knew what was in the bag. It was no secret that Luba dealt with the takings just before the weekend after a big drop-off by Vaughn. And they both knew the money went nowhere near a bank. Not yet, anyway. In the time that Molly had been at the Cloisters, she’d learnt a lot about how the place worked. She and Hannah, and Vanessa too, were the switched-on ones, the ones with their sights set higher than this sex-infused dump of a place. On the surface, the rooms were quite pleasant, and they got food and had each other for company, and really, there wasn’t a huge amount to complain about. Their days had structure – a beginning, a middle and an end. And they knew exactly what would happen from one hour to the next. But there was no doubt about it that, for now, they were stuck.

Luba dropped down onto the edge of Hannah’s bed. She cradled her head in her hands until Molly passed her half a mug of vodka. Molly gave Hannah a look, then she glanced down at the bag at Luba’s feet. What it contained would be a game changer for Hannah’s escape. And it was money they’d earnt, all of the girls here. A shitload of it. They also knew there was more where that came from, too, piles of it kept in the locked office, the key to which Darren carried with him everywhere. It was Luba’s job to do the rounds regularly, distributing it to Vaughn’s various other businesses so it could be drip-fed through the wash, finally ending up in the bank. Molly had learnt over her time here – from overhearing things through closed doors, listening surreptitiously to private conversations, and even from asking Luba as well as Darren, when he was in a good mood – that Vaughn owned a launderette about a mile away. Not only did it provide all the clean sheets for the Cloisters, it also provided cash takings from the public – topped up by the dirty money, thebigmoney, that Vaughn made from drugs. But of course, a single launderette wasn’t enough to clean so much cash. That’s why Vaughn owned other places, too – several massage parlours like the Cloisters, where barely any actual massages took place, and he had a restaurant in Chinatown and a small casino and bar, as well as a couple of tattoo studios and a booze shop and a bike rental place. Cash, cash, cash. Wash, wash, wash.

‘Don’t worry, Luba,’ Molly said, sitting down next to her. She rubbed her back, feeling the plumpness of her flesh above and below her tight bra strap that sat snug around her body. She felt the dampness of her T-shirt too. It was hot for May, and Luba wasn’t the fittest person in the world, especially after climbing up all the stairs to the top floor, and her perspiration was made worse by the stress of having lost another girl. ‘I’m sure she’ll come back when she’s hungry.’

‘Is not that. I don’t care about her, that girl. If she stupid enough to piss off, then she can piss right off. Is Vaughn. He eat my guts if I get it wrong. He say he kill me. He needs this place making money, you know how it is.’

Molly and Hannah nodded. Not all the girls knew how it was. But they did.

After Luba knocked back her drink, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she stood, hitching up her jeans that had worked their way down her hips, a bulge of white flesh rolling over the waistband.

‘Don’t forget your bag,’ Molly reminded her, sending Hannah a look. A look that said:We’ll get the bag. We’ll get the bag and more bags and we’ll be free and rich and never have to set foot in this place again. And as Luba muttered something in her language, which sounded like more swearing, she bent down to zip up the holdall where it was bulging open, and Molly caught sight of the bundles of money poking out. Beautiful, beautiful money.

After Luba had left, Molly said, ‘I’m going to steal the key to the office, and then money, as well as your passport and documents so you and your baby will be free, Han. Do you hear me?Free.’

Hannah nodded, placing a hand on her belly. ‘He’s kicking,’ she said, her face lighting up.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

HANNAH – NOW

We’re in bed. I can’t sleep and I can tell by the sound of his breathing that Rob is still awake too – short, deliberate breaths that sound nothing like his usual gentle snore when he drifts off.

‘What did you mean earlier?’ I whisper, conscious that there are four sleeping girls plus Natalia in the house. It had taken an age to settle Kate, Leanne’s little sister, after what she’d been through. Leanne had let their mother know where they were, but as expected, she wasn’t particularly bothered that they hadn’t come home. I’ll have to decide what’s best to do with them in the morning – knowing I’ll probably be contacting social services or the police, though neither seems an appealing option currently, under the circumstances. I don’t want anyone official sniffing around our home. But for now, they’re safe.

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