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Mabel’s bottom lips trembles as she clutches at the ratty t-shirt she’s wearing. “They’d take some of us upstairs sometimes…up to the bedroom and then they’d…they’d…” She doubles over as if in pain and howls, crying. I can feel burning at the back of my own eyes and my fists clench at my sides. The younger girl wakes up with a fright, scrambling off the sofa and staring wide eyed at me and Annika before sidling up to Mabel.
“Mabel?”
“It’s okay, Kee. I’m okay, promise.” She sobs, pulling the youngster onto her lap and wrapping her arms around her. “We’re okay, Keeley. We’re going to be okay.”
“Don’t cry, Maybe. I’ll look after you,” the little girl soothes, stroking her sister’s hair, cradling her head to her chest.
“How did you get out?” Annika asks, her resounding calm grounding me.
“They forgot to lock our cage one night,” she snivels. “The boys gave us their t-shirts and told us to get out, said to send help when we can. I waited until the daytime when there were less people about and then I got Keeley out. The front door was locked so we hid under the stairs until someone came in and then we just ran.” She cries again, holding her sister tight. “We just kept running, we’ve been running for so long, I’m so tired,” she sobs. I want to hold her, to tell her it’s okay, that I’ll make sure she’s safe, but I can’t.
“If the boys gave you their t-shirts, what were you wearing before?” I ask because I apparently want to be angry.
Mabel just glares at me, the answer not needing to be spoken out loud and I grit my teeth as my anger flares.
“How long have you been running?” Annika asks.
“About four days.” Mabel wipes her eyes roughly.
Jesus Christ. I’m seething, I have to move. Cursing under breath I head to the door and leave the room, searching forGuinevere. She’s in the kitchen and I jerk back slightly to see her cradled against Lee’s big chest as he strokes her hair. I clear my throat and they break apart, her looking flushed and embarrassed and him looking at me warily, but I don’t have the brain capacity to care about them right now.
“Miss White, the girls need something to eat please,” I say sharply.
“Of course,” she says hurrying to the fridge and rummaging.
“And can we find something for them both to wear that will cover them up and get them warm?” I sound angry and I’m sure they think it’s aimed at them, but it’s aimed at the nameless, faceless arseholes I will be hunting down and putting in the ground.
“I’ll grab some t-shirts and sweatshirts.” Lee leaves, giving me a nod.
The doorbell rings as I head to the hall after Lee and when he changes direction to answer it, I stop him. “I’ll get it, you get the clothes.” I’m not technically his boss but he doesn’t argue.
At the door, stands a woman in her mid-forties, wearing silk pyjamas and a cardigan holding a medical bag. “I was asked to come and see to some patients?” She blinks at me, her demeanour getting more nervous as she takes in my foul mood.
“Do you have any ID?” I ask sternly.
She produces a badge attached to a lanyard from her bag and passes it to me. It’s from the local hospital and looks legitimate. “Come on through, Dr Melvin.”
13
HARVEY
Itake the doctor through to the living room and knock on the closed door. Annika’s voice calls for me to come in. The girls are still on the sofa, the younger one asleep again with her head resting on her sister’s shoulder. Mabel is red eyed and exhausted.
“Mabel, this is Dr Melvin,” I say gesturing to the shocked looking woman behind me. “She’s going to look at your ankle and make sure you and your sister are okay. Is that alright?” I speak softly, keeping to the edge of the room.
Her eyes dart from me to the newcomer and I see the contemplation to argue but, in the end, exhaustion wins and she just nods. “Okay.”
“Hi Mabel.” Dr Melvin sits down on the coffee table where Annika has just vacated. “Can you tell me what happened to your ankle?”
“I…” she looks at us and back to the doctor. “I ran in front of a car, and it hit my foot.”
“Right.” The doctor sounds suspicious as her eyes dart to where Annika and I stand side by side, both with our arms crossed over our chests with matching thunderous looks. “May I examine it?” She points to the ankle resting beside her.
Mabel’s grip on the knife tightens again and the good doctor gasps as she realises what’s in her patient’s hands. “Okay,” Mabel agrees.
As the exam commences, we both watch the doctor work. Without taking my eyes off the stranger, I ask, “What’s the plan?”
Annika sighs quietly, her lips pursing. “She says her mother sold her,” she says in a low murmur.
