Chapter 56

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

A na's headache was worsening, and she knew she needed to go somewhere quiet to ride out the storm within her brain.

Matt dropped her off outside her apartment block. He whistled in admiration. ‘Bloody hell. I need to ask for a pay rise,' he joked.

‘It belongs to a friend,' she lied. ‘She's travelling, so I'm using it.'

Before he could ask any more questions, she climbed from the car and waved as she entered the building. The headache was almost blinding her, and all she could do was swallow more pills and then lie on the bed with the curtains closed.

Ana was scared. She was out of her depth. The flat was costing her too much. She closed her eyes, but the memories were persistent and harsh. What are you going to do now ? her inner voice asked.

‘I want to go home.' She wept, turning over and burying her head in the pillow. If what she'd discovered was true, who could she trust now? Her eyelids closed as the Valium and painkillers started to work. In that quiet, peaceful moment between waking and sleep, she idly wondered if she should have mixed the pills.

One year earlier

They'd raced to the red-light district, sirens blaring and blue lights flashing. Ana led the way, the ambulance behind her. She'd been dreading this happening. How many times had she warned them?

‘The pimps are supposed to take care of you.'

‘A punter's a punter,' Cherry would say.

‘You're selling sex, Cherry,' Ana warned. ‘They're not paying to rough you up. No matter how much they pay, you don't deserve that.'

Ana knew who the pimps were and had warned them several times, but if Cherry and the girls kept working for them, what the fuck else could she do? She sighed at the sight of the crowd that had formed outside Southfield Park flats. She abruptly stopped the police car, and she and Arif hurried into the dilapidated building, followed by the paramedics.

‘Clear the fucking vultures,' Arif yelled to the policemen behind them.

Ana was running up the stairs with the paramedics behind her.

‘Oh God, Ana,' sobbed a young girl, falling into her arms.

‘Where is she?'

The girl took Ana's hand and led her into flat 13. The smell of cigarette smoke, booze and sweat assaulted Ana's nostrils. But the overriding smell was the coppery stench of blood. It seemed the whole flat was covered in it. The walls looked like blood-stained graffiti. The other girls sat in shock staring at Cherry, who lay groaning on the floor.

‘He went at her with a billiard cue,' said one.

‘We tried to stop him.' Another wept. ‘But he was fucking mad.' She held up her arm, and her hand was hanging strangely.

‘You must go in the ambulance, Sonya,' Ana said. ‘That wrist looks broken.' Ana knelt beside Cherry and held her hand gently as the paramedics lifted her onto a stretcher. ‘Which one?' Ana asked.

No one answered.

‘I know it was one of your pimps,' said Ana.

‘The Glaswegian,' whispered a young girl in the corner. ‘It was my fault. This guy wanted… He wanted to do–' She broke off and began to cry. ‘Cherry said no, that I was too young and…'

‘So it was McQuire,' said Ana. She felt a pain in her jaw and realised she was grinding her teeth.

They all stared at her. Fear was evident in their eyes.

‘Fucking tell me,' she demanded.

‘It was him,' whispered Sonya.

Ana nodded. ‘You go with the girls in the ambulance,' she said to Arif.

Arif shook his head. ‘No way.' He clicked into his radio. ‘Woman has been badly beaten at Southfield Park. Her name is Cherry Miles. Back-up needed to arrest the assailant.'

Ana smiled gratefully at him. He could have called her a prostitute, but he didn't.

‘Message me how she is,' she told Sonya, who nodded tearfully.

They knew Alistair would be in one of two places: either the The Fox pub just along the road or his fancy house on the outskirts of Kirby. Ana hoped it would be the pub. At least his wife and kids wouldn't have to witness the arrest.

It was a Saturday night, and The Fox was heaving. They passed the placard announcing a live band was playing that night and entered to the sound of pulsating music and shouting punters struggling to be heard above the din. As soon as Ana and Arif were spotted, the noise slowly diminished until only a lone musician played. Ana nodded toward them, and the music stopped.

Shane, the landlord, walked towards them. ‘What the hell?'

‘Sorry to break up the fun,' said Ana.

‘Yeah, you look it,' said Shane.

Ana ignored him and walked towards Alistair McQuire, standing by the dartboard.

‘Turn around,' she said, her voice sharp.

‘What for? I ain't done nothing wrong,' he sneered.

‘I said, turn around. Don't make me ask a third time.' Ana pulled handcuffs from her pocket. ‘You're under arrest for grievous bodily harm.'

He laughed, looking around the pub for others to laugh with him. ‘Oh, come on. Sometimes you have to give those whores a slap or two. How am I supposed to run a business?'

Several of the men laughed. Ana stared at them for a second and before McQuire had time to react, she'd whipped out her baton and brought it down hard on the back of his knees. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor. Arif knew that McQuire was in big trouble now.

‘Fucking bitch,' yelled Alistair. ‘I only gave her a slap.'

‘I'd shut up if you know what's good for you,' warned Arif, pulling him up and handcuffing him.

‘You shit-faced bastard. The whole fucking room is decorated with her blood,' spat Ana.

‘The place needed a clean-up,' he sneered.

It was the smirk that did it. Arif wasn't prepared, and when her baton came smashing down on McQuire's head, he leapt back in shock.

‘You fucking no good piece of scum,' she yelled, the baton coming down repeatedly.

‘Christ, Ana, stop,' said Arif, as McQuire's blood splattered onto his face. He pulled the baton out of her hand just as she was about to strike again.

‘Get this piece of shit out my sight,' she said, the emotion thick in her voice.

He dragged McQuire from the club. The Glaswegian pimp was already screaming his revenge.

‘Okay, the party's over,' said Ana, a slight tremble in her voice.

‘You were out of order,' said Shane.

She ignored him and left the pub, her heart banging in her chest. She got into the police car and turned to McQuire, who was now quiet, blood flowing from a cut on his head.

‘He's going to need a doctor,' said Arif. There was no criticism in his tone.

Ana nodded.

‘I have to report it, Ana. You used unnecessary force.'

She shrugged. ‘I know. I'm going to the hospital. Can you arrange some protection for the girls for a few nights?'

He nodded. ‘Sure, I'll see what I can do.'

Cherry was lucky, they said. She had a broken collarbone and a few fractured ribs. ‘One of her kidneys looks damaged,' said the doctor. ‘I'll need to open her up to see how bad it is. But from the CAT scan, I'm not hopeful I can save it. I'm sorry.'

Ana swallowed, trying to take everything in. ‘I understand,' she said.

‘When she comes out, she'll need somewhere safe and quiet to stay. We keep patching them up, Ana, but…'

‘I know. I have somewhere she can stay.'

Cherry tried to smile when she saw her, but her face was so bruised and bloated that it was almost impossible.

‘I hit him too many times,' Ana said softly.

Tears rolled down Cherry's cheek. ‘Oh, Ana.'

They held hands silently for a time.

‘You need to do it.' Cherry finally whispered. ‘You need to get rid of the anger. You know where he is.' Her voice was hoarse, and Ana had to lean close to hear her.

‘I know.'

Of course she knew. She'd known when she got the address in Oxford six months ago, but the thought of facing him again was too much for her to deal with.

‘When you leave here, you'll be looked after, okay?'

Cherry nodded and closed her eyes. ‘They think I might lose my kidney.'

‘You're going to be fine. Besides, some of the best people only have one kidney.'

A loud ringing tore through Ana's eardrums and she woke with a start. She'd set the alarm so she wouldn't oversleep.

‘Cherry,' she said, looking around. Then she remembered she was in her fancy flat in Oxford. She called Cherry's number and was relieved to hear her voice.

‘Hey, girl, how's it going?'

Ana closed her eyes and pictured Cherry in her mind. That deep richness of her black skin, the brightness of her eyes, the colour of acorns. That broad smile and contagious giggle that was uniquely hers.

‘Good, how about you?'

‘You sounding posh, babe.' Cherry laughed and then said, more seriously, ‘Found him?'

‘I will.' Her eyes landed on the bedside clock, and she remembered the drink with Beth. ‘Shit. I have to go. Drink with the boss.'

‘Okay, girl. All is well here. No worries.'

Ana hung up.

Had beating McQuire helped get her the transfer? She'll never know, but she's here. McQuire had been done for attempted murder, and still, Ana hadn't got her man. But I'm close , she thought. I'm so close.