'Please, Nick. Please, let me go.'
He was watching her with interest; she was so young and so naive, just how he liked them. She was sweating with fear and he could see it glistening in the half-light. But he was not worried, she would give in, they always did. This was the excitement for him, the chase itself. She was so perfect, so innocent and her make-up just made her look younger, like a little girl dressing up in her mum's clothes. Her fear was making her pant and the sound was making him hard. A bead of sweat dripped from her chest and on to her belly; she was fighting to keep her modesty and attempting to pull down her top. But Nick Parks was an expert at this; he had popped more cherries than a fruit picker on speed.
'Please, Nick. I ain't done anything like this before.'
She was trying to reason with him, to make him understand that she had got herself in a position that she wasn't able for and that she wasn't mature enough to handle. She actually believed that he would stop what he was doing and take her home.
He was lowering her seat and she could feel herself being forced backwards and she knew that once she was horizontal she was finished. His hand was groping her and his knee was trying to force her legs apart. She regretted wearing a denim two-piece; the skirt was so short and the cropped jacket hardly covered her breasts. She had felt like an adult when she had put it on but now she wanted to cry. She was frightened and his tongue was raspy from the cigarettes he smoked and the speed he had snorted all night. He tasted disgusting and her stomach was rebelling against him and what he was doing. He was covering her mouth with his so she couldn't even call out and she was pinned to the car seat, unable to even move her face away from him, let alone anything else. She could sense the urgency inside him and feel the hardness of him against her thigh. He was pulling her knickers down, exposing her to the night, and she was mortified. She used all her strength and tried to buck him off her. It just made him laugh more.
'Come on, little girl, you've been leading me on all night and I ain't going nowhere until I get what I want.'
She was really crying now and Eileen knew that all the things her mother had told her were true; that most men just wanted one thing and when they got it they lost interest. She could feel the tears rolling down her face and Nick's knee was trying to force her legs apart when the van door opened.
Nick Parks looked behind him, ready to bawl someone out, when he felt himself being dragged bodily off the girl. He regarded himself as a reasonably hard nut and he took a swing at the man. It was only then that he saw there were two of them and that they were policemen.
Eileen jumped from the van as fast as she could and the young policemen saw she was trying to pull her clothes back into place.
'You all right, love?'
'Course she's fucking all right, we're courting.'
The way Nick was talking about her made Eileen wish she had never left the house and had never gone to the pubs in Ilford and Barking. She regretted the rush she had been in to grow up and get away from her family and the house full of people who loved her and wanted the best for her.
She started crying then. 'I want to go home… I just want to go home…'
Eileen was in a country lane somewhere and she had no cab fare. She was frightened that the policemen would leave her behind if she wasn't careful. The two policemen took pity on her, they could see the situation and they both wished they had a pound for every time they came across it. They'd never have to work again.
'What's your name, love?'
'Eileen. Eileen Brodie.'
'Get in the fucking van, you silly bitch and stop fucking about.'
Nick was trying to act like they were an item and he knew he was not being very convincing. But this child was making him look a mug. Another ten minutes and she'd have been popped and on her way home. He was still on the cusp and he wanted to do the dirty on her.
'Shut your trap and let the girl talk, will you?'
Nick was staring at her with a look of complete longing on his face and Eileen knew then how sneaky he could be.
'Come on, babe, you don't want to cause any trouble now, do you?'
He was the nice guy once more and his handsome face looked as if he had never had a bad thought. Eileen shook her head sadly.
'Can you take me home, please, or at least give me a lift to the train station?'
'Get in the car, love, we'll sort you out.'
She climbed into the police car then and she hated the feel of it.
'You had better watch out in the future, mate. Jailbait can get you in a lot of trouble. Now piss off.'
Nick drove off in his van and Eileen watched him go with tears running down her face. She didn't like all this growing-up lark, it was scary. Nick was the last in a long line of older men she seemed to gravitate to and she didn't know why. This was the first time that she had been frightened though. She had only ever teased them in the pub before this, giving them the talk and acting older than she was. Now she knew how dangerous that could be. The two policemen were young and friendly. The chattier of the two was called Andy and he offered her a lift home when his shift finished. She accepted his offer readily, just wanting to get away from this place and the situation she had got herself into.
Pat was in bed with Ivana and she was lying in his arms, her slim legs wrapped around him. She was so tiny and Pat liked that. He liked the feel of her; she was fragile in comparison to his roughness. She felt so minute and so soft, that holding her was almost like taking her. She made him feel good inside and made him want to protect her and he knew that she liked the feeling as much as he did.
But she was a brass and brasses were not meant to be loved by anyone. It was hypocritical, he knew, considering his mother's background. But he also knew she would be the first person warning him against letting his feelings get the better of him.
Ivana snuggled into his body once more and he held her tightly to him. She could feel his heart beating and smell his aftershave.
'Is that your real name?'
She laughed. 'Course not. No one is born with a name like that. It's a work name, an exotic name that makes me sound interesting. My actual name is Denise.'
He laughed then and she laughed with him.
'You are joking?'
She was still laughing, no shame at her own words, just honest humour.
'I'm not. My name is Denise Jones, a boring and unattractive name for a girl who wanted to be interesting and beautiful.' She was laughing at herself again, only this time it wasn't as convincing.
Patrick hugged her once more, tighter, and her little laugh made him feel sorry for her. She was a nice girl, a really nice girl. He sighed, she was addictive.
He got out of the bed and relit the joint they had left in the ashtray. The sweet aroma of the grass filled the room and he looked down on Ivana and saw her lying there with her hair all around her face and her milky white skin smooth and soft against the bed sheets.
'You all right?' Her voice was soft and Pat sat back on the bed and smiled down at her.
'Course I'm all right. How about you?' She didn't answer him, just smiled gently.
He knew she loved him. He knew she would hang around for years; he could marry, go to prison, anything and Ivana, as she liked to be called, would be there waiting for him. A constant in a world that was full of disappointments.
He felt sorry for her even as he wished he had met her as a civilian and not in a hostess club flashing her clout to whoever had the money. He knew that he would keep her on the side and he was ashamed that he wasn't man enough to take her as she was. But it was hard for a man when the woman they were with was well-known. Eventually, it would cause trouble. Eventually he would use it against her. That was the way the world worked. She was sensible enough to know that herself. He wouldn't have to explain himself to her, she would take whatever crumbs he threw her.