know.’
‘Better off? How come?’
‘Safer, warmer, out of harm’s way.’
‘Safe enough here. We look out for each other. The Reachout van comes. More than you lot do.’
‘All the same. No life for a young girl, is it, Abi? I’ve a daughter. I wouldn’t want this for her.’
‘No, right, well, let’s hope you don’t get it.’ Abi pushed her hands into her pockets and turned away.
‘I can go as well, I imagine,’ Leslie Blade said.
‘Just a word though, same as to the girl. Might be best if you didn’t hang around here, chatting to them, sandwiches or no.’
‘And why would that be? Am I committing an offence?’
‘No. All the same, better leave it to the authorities – the Reachout van and so on. Better leave it to them.’
‘If there isn’t anything else, officer?’
The policeman shut his notebook. ‘On your way then, sir. Thanks for your cooperation. Drive carefully.’
Leslie drove down the main road for a couple of miles, turned onto the bypass, left it at the roundabout, skirted the Hill, and in less than fifteen minutes was back beside the empty shops. The patrol car had gone and neither Abi nor any of the other girls was on the street. He pulled in and waited a while, then went round the block and down towards the canal. Still no one.
He could hear the cathedral chimes for midnight ringing round the cold and empty streets as he drove away. From the shadows near the towpath the one they called Beanie Man saw him. Watched. Waited.
‘The leccy’s nearly gone,’ Hayley said the second Abi opened the door. ‘You got any change?’
Abi pulled thirty pounds in notes from her miniskirt pocket and went to the cupboard over the sink. The cornflakes packet where she kept pound coins for the meter was empty. The room was cold, all three children asleep together under one duvet on the bed, Hayley with her parka pulled up round her neck huddled into the chair.
‘There was ten quid in here,’ Abi said. ‘Where’s that gone?’
Hayley’s face was pinched, her eyes red.
‘You must have used it.’
Hayley had been biting her nails.
‘I didn’t use it, and nobody else has been in here. Except you.’
Hayley shrugged.
‘OK, I’ll go downstairs, see if they’ve got any change. Only I know you had it and I want it back, right?’
When Abi returned and fed the meter, Hayley was making tea.
‘I had a good idea,’ she said.
‘What, like nicking my leccy money? I’m telling you, I want it back. You work tomorrow and you give it me, right?’
‘No, listen, where I live, the flat below’s gone empty.’
‘So? God, I’m bloody frozen. I’m having a Cuppa Soup. You want one?’
‘We could have it. It’s got two bedrooms, it’s got a separate kitchen. We could have that.’
‘What do you mean, we could have it?’
‘Rent it. You, me, our kids. It’s a whole lot better than here and mine, and we could do it up.’
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘No, I’m not, what would I be joking for? It’s a good idea.’
‘Not in my book.’
‘Save me traipsing here with Liam all the time. Save a load of money as well.’
‘How do you make that out?’
‘Oh, work it out. Anyway, it’s a flat that’s going and I think we should have it.’
‘Looks funny. Two girls living together. People’d think.’
‘Let ’em bloody think then.’
Abi poured water into two mugs.
‘It was dead tonight,’ she said, turning the television on low, ‘one punter, nobody else out there. Bloody freezing.’
‘… her mother, Mrs Audrey Buckley, reported Chantelle missing. She was last seen five days ago walking towards the bus station. Chantelle, who is seventeen, was wearing a distinctive bright green nylon jacket and short skirt. Mrs Buckley, of Aberdeen Way, Bevham, said that Chantelle sometimes stayed overnight with friends but none of them had seen her this week and …’
‘I saw her,’ Abi said.
The CCTV picture of the girl walking down a street was replaced by a
‘Better off? How come?’
‘Safer, warmer, out of harm’s way.’
‘Safe enough here. We look out for each other. The Reachout van comes. More than you lot do.’
‘All the same. No life for a young girl, is it, Abi? I’ve a daughter. I wouldn’t want this for her.’
‘No, right, well, let’s hope you don’t get it.’ Abi pushed her hands into her pockets and turned away.
‘I can go as well, I imagine,’ Leslie Blade said.
‘Just a word though, same as to the girl. Might be best if you didn’t hang around here, chatting to them, sandwiches or no.’
‘And why would that be? Am I committing an offence?’
‘No. All the same, better leave it to the authorities – the Reachout van and so on. Better leave it to them.’
‘If there isn’t anything else, officer?’
The policeman shut his notebook. ‘On your way then, sir. Thanks for your cooperation. Drive carefully.’
Leslie drove down the main road for a couple of miles, turned onto the bypass, left it at the roundabout, skirted the Hill, and in less than fifteen minutes was back beside the empty shops. The patrol car had gone and neither Abi nor any of the other girls was on the street. He pulled in and waited a while, then went round the block and down towards the canal. Still no one.
He could hear the cathedral chimes for midnight ringing round the cold and empty streets as he drove away. From the shadows near the towpath the one they called Beanie Man saw him. Watched. Waited.
‘The leccy’s nearly gone,’ Hayley said the second Abi opened the door. ‘You got any change?’
Abi pulled thirty pounds in notes from her miniskirt pocket and went to the cupboard over the sink. The cornflakes packet where she kept pound coins for the meter was empty. The room was cold, all three children asleep together under one duvet on the bed, Hayley with her parka pulled up round her neck huddled into the chair.
‘There was ten quid in here,’ Abi said. ‘Where’s that gone?’
Hayley’s face was pinched, her eyes red.
‘You must have used it.’
Hayley had been biting her nails.
‘I didn’t use it, and nobody else has been in here. Except you.’
Hayley shrugged.
‘OK, I’ll go downstairs, see if they’ve got any change. Only I know you had it and I want it back, right?’
When Abi returned and fed the meter, Hayley was making tea.
‘I had a good idea,’ she said.
‘What, like nicking my leccy money? I’m telling you, I want it back. You work tomorrow and you give it me, right?’
‘No, listen, where I live, the flat below’s gone empty.’
‘So? God, I’m bloody frozen. I’m having a Cuppa Soup. You want one?’
‘We could have it. It’s got two bedrooms, it’s got a separate kitchen. We could have that.’
‘What do you mean, we could have it?’
‘Rent it. You, me, our kids. It’s a whole lot better than here and mine, and we could do it up.’
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘No, I’m not, what would I be joking for? It’s a good idea.’
‘Not in my book.’
‘Save me traipsing here with Liam all the time. Save a load of money as well.’
‘How do you make that out?’
‘Oh, work it out. Anyway, it’s a flat that’s going and I think we should have it.’
‘Looks funny. Two girls living together. People’d think.’
‘Let ’em bloody think then.’
Abi poured water into two mugs.
‘It was dead tonight,’ she said, turning the television on low, ‘one punter, nobody else out there. Bloody freezing.’
‘… her mother, Mrs Audrey Buckley, reported Chantelle missing. She was last seen five days ago walking towards the bus station. Chantelle, who is seventeen, was wearing a distinctive bright green nylon jacket and short skirt. Mrs Buckley, of Aberdeen Way, Bevham, said that Chantelle sometimes stayed overnight with friends but none of them had seen her this week and …’
‘I saw her,’ Abi said.
The CCTV picture of the girl walking down a street was replaced by a
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