The Real Me - Chapter 17

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It was all a nightmare and Dannie knew that she would make mistakes. Jock terrified her. He seemed perpetually bad-tempered, even when he was being nice. A bad-tempered man with a meat cleaver that he shook about for emphasis was a frightening sight. Under Jock’s watchful eye, the preparations for the lunchtime crush went on. There seemed to be a complete division between the bar and the kitchen.

The barman and bar girl hardly came near the kitchen. Lenny stayed out of sight mostly doing books and ordering supplies. The bar took the order, took the money for food there, and then unless it was a tab. The order was transmitted to the kitchen, direct from the till. Half past eleven came and Dannie was out making sure all the polished tables were clean and had condiments. Having done that, she was put to wrap the knife and fork in a paper napkin and fill a cutlery box with the little packages.

She went to the lady's and did her makeup and combed her hair. She looked in the mirror and a girl stared back. The girl was pale. The bruise in contrast was obvious. She used foundation, blending it across her forehead. It was difficult to do without messing the whole of her face. She really needed to start from scratch but didn’t dare be late for the first customers.

When she walked back to the kitchen, she found there were already a dozen people in the bar. The bar staff was at it, pulling pints, glasses of wine, and mixers. Although frightened, Dannie was intensely excited. Here she was, really out in society, a waitress. She wished she had a frilly apron. As she passed by Lenny’s cubbyhole, she found him standing there. The permanent waitress, Julie stood with him. ‘You ready, young lady?’ Julie asked. ‘Yes miss.’ she replied. ‘Name’s Julie.

This is a trial. Right? See how you do. I’m not going to carry you. It’s hard work, you need to be quick and use your wits. Here, you can wear this, your badge of office, so the punters know you are staff.’ Julie handed her the apron, white, a gathered frill around the edge, and ribbons to tie behind her. It was a very feminine, quite useless addition, but to Dannie, it was an affirmation of her status as a girl. She went into the kitchen and tied the apron, achieving the bow finally by tying it in front and turning it around her waist.

She would have to learn how to tie behind her back, yet another female skill to acquire, like doing a bra up or zipping up a dress. She found it odd, that nearly everything girls were backward to boys, more difficult. She liked it. These little things are all spelled out girl. ‘Watch the board. Table ten, five starters. Two soup and three for you, two anchovies and one prawn. Hurry up!’ Julie said. Jock glanced up as though angry.

That was the first order. In the next hour, she never stopped, walking, almost running, swishing her hips between the tightly packed tables and chairs, trying to get things right, smiling, suffering a few wandering hands on her waist and bum. She slapped one hand that came too close and too pressing to her crack. At one o’clock, the rush eased a bit and then took off as a second wave came. Jock had beads of sweat on his brow, mopping them with a towel. The boys were too busy to mess about and Dannie was too busy to notice them much, other than to receive the starters they prepared, the deep-fried whitebait, soup, and toasted camembert.

All these things were foreign to Dannie. She had to learn and fast. Julie kept her on track. Two o’clock came. They had a few empty tables but still, people entered still ordered food. Dannie was almost dropping when suddenly, there were no more to be served. ‘What do we do now?’ She asked Julie. ‘We clean up, love.

You did OK for a young’un. You polish the tables, I’ll hoover. You on tonight?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Where d’you live?’ Dannie blushed. ‘Nowhere. I haven’t got anywhere.’ ‘Another kid with no home? What’s happening to this World? So, what you gonna do?’ Dannie bit her lip and shook her head miserably. ‘Jesus wept. It’s like one of them Dickens books, the kids we get in here, runaways from bad homes. So, what are you gonna do?

You can’t sleep here or on the street.’ ‘I don’t know, Julie.’ ‘There’s hostels, the YWCA, probably best.’ Dannie shook her head dismally. ‘I don’t know where they are and I’m not really a Christian.’ ‘It’s just a name. You needn’t be a practicing Christian.’ ‘I’m not. I don’t know whether I was baptised even.’ ‘Well, you speak nice, surely you come from a good family?’ ‘Mum’s side. Dad’s just, well, we don’t get on.’ ‘Is that why you’re down here?’ ‘Yes.’

‘Oh kid, Daniella, is that really your name?’ ‘Yes, really.’ ‘Look, I have a friend, who runs a small hotel, not exactly five stars, in fact, if it got one star I’d be surprised. I can phone, just for a night, then you must find somewhere or, go home, sort things. You should be in school. I don’t even believe you’re sixteen. How old are you?’

‘You’ll tell.’ ‘No, I won’t.’ ‘Fourteen. Dad beat me up. Mum doesn’t care, my sister’s away on business.’ ‘And she looks after you?’ ‘Yes, she’s great.’ ‘You poor kid. When will she be back?’ ‘I dunno. She said she would be away one night, two tops, but it’s been more.

Dad came home and beat me up.’ ‘Why did he?’ ‘He doesn’t like me, never has.’ ‘Why? Why wouldn’t he like a young girl like you.’ ‘Just he doesn’t, that’s all.’ ‘OK. Go to friends at home. Where is home?’ ‘Buckinghamshire.’ Julie watched as the kid’s eyes filled again. ‘OK kid, come here.’ She embraced the child. ‘Look pet, I’ll phone my friend but I want you to go home. You are too young for this City.’ Dannie knew she was right. They had less than three hours until the evening shift. What would she do in three hours?

‘Back here at half five. Lenny will pay at the end of the day, so don’t take off before he’s paid up. You’ll need money to pay for your bed tonight. I’ll try and get you mates rates. It’s a rough place and I usually find, one night there and kids disappear, go home. It’s like a cure for runaways.’ She smiled. Dannie thought she was joking. With that, Julie took off.

A new girl stood behind the bar and the kitchen staff had long gone. Dannie collected her handbag and took off, checking if her watch was working. She didn’t know how she would fill three hours. She made a careful note of the street, Dean Street, and tried to photograph it in her memory. She walked south, towards the sun. She came to a square and found it was Leicester Square.

She crossed and went left and wandered on, finding herself in Charing Cross Road. She chanced upon the National Portrait Gallery. Curious, she looked in the door. Two girls stood inside, and people passed in and out. She was uncertain what to do, whether if she ventured in, she would be shouted at or a ticket demanded. One of the young ladies, very posh looking in a skirt suit said, ‘You can come in.’ ‘Do I have to pay?’ ‘No, it’s free.’

‘Thank you, so much.’ She said, walked in and saw huge paintings of old-fashioned people, women dressed in what looked like ball gowns, men in breeches, silk and in rich colors, lots of lace. She turned and followed arrows to the BP portrait awards. She found modern paintings, one, the artist’s mother on her death bed. When she read the caption, she shivered. She wondered that the artist could be so detached as to sit and not only watch her mother die but paint her.

Dannie felt that, macabre. She shivered and moved on to happier subjects, marveling at the skill of these mostly photographic representations of people portrayed in pencil, watercolor, oils, and other mediums. Some in her form at school were good at art but Dannie was not one of those. It was crowded and stuffy. She left and wandered south again, coming to what she recognized as Trafalgar Square. She marveled at Nelson on his column and the lions, huge and she touched one, cold metal, bronze. She sat down on the steps and watched the people.

Over on her left, she saw the church Sian from the coach must have meant, St Martins, the stonework glowing cream in the afternoon sun. She moved and sat on the steps of the National Gallery and tried her phone. It was dead. Not a whimper in it, not even enough juice in the battery to say charge me.  That Ranjit had sold her a dud after all. Perhaps Lenny would let her phone Rachel from the pub or Julie with her mobile, she thought.

The clock struck the half hour for five-thirty and in something of a panic, she started back to the pub, hoping she could retrace her steps. Heart beating tears not far away, she finally saw the street name, Dean Street. She walked up and sighed with relief when she came to the pub. When she entered the kitchen, she found the boys already at work. ‘Hey little girl, you better do your starters.’ Badrick said. ‘You can give me another kiss first if you like.’

The two idiots, boy giggle. ‘Hey, my turn to show you the fridge,’ Montai said. ‘Why did you kiss him and not me?’ ‘I didn’t kiss him.’ Dannie refuted the allegation. ‘He tried it on. Next time I’ll be ready and either of you or anyone will get a knee in the family jewels.’ Jock appeared from nowhere. He took the tea towel from his shoulder and swatted Montai with it. ‘Cut it out you two. She’s only a kid, leave her alone. I’m warning you both.’ Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum shut up but grins played around their faces.

Julie arrived and between them, they prepared for the evening. It’s not as hectic as lunch when it was mostly workers, young guys, and women, twenty and thirty, nicely dressed in professional business wear. The evening crew was tourists, probably snatching a bite and a drink before the theatre or a concert. The big girl barmaid greeted another girl who came in and they kissed. Dannie felt a pang of longing. The two held hands.

Four boys in suits standing at the bar watched the two girls and whispered to each other. One, tall and with a sardonic smirk said, ‘Are you, lesbians?’ The big barmaid replied, ‘So what’s it to you?’ The boys chuckled and giggled. ‘Let’s see a proper kiss, tongues.’ ‘We’re not animals in a zoo for your lascivious entertainment.’ ‘Just for us.’ The sardonic smile said. ‘Only if you queer boys kiss too.’ The small girl said.

‘We’re not gay.’ Another of the four said. ‘Oh, sorry my mistake,’ the small girl said, ‘only you look gay.’ The boys turned away and sought a table. The girl raised her eyebrows. She looked at Dannie. Dannie smiled, and the girl smiled back and shrugged. She kissed the bar girl, said something, and left the pub. They were still busy. Nine, they served the last customers and cleared up. They were done by nine-thirty. Lenny paid them both and made them sign a book.

She signed as Maisie Dotes, a name Julie suggested. Every day, Julie said, they used a different name so the tax didn’t catch up. Dannie looked at her money. She had forty-five pounds, plus the tips that some customers had pressed into her hand, another thirty quid. She felt rich. ‘See you tomorrow?’ Lenny asked her. ‘Yes Lenny.’ She said. Julie raised her eyebrows. ‘Come on then kiddo. I’ll take you to your hotel.

You won’t like it, but it’s better than the street.’ Dannie already felt frightened, wondering where she would end up. They crossed the Strand, downhill towards the River Thames. They took a passageway behind the shops. Julie stopped at a doorway that announced Earl’s Hotel in chipped black letters on the glass over the door.

They entered. They came to a desk under the stairs. The place was old, with almost black wood everywhere. Julie thumped the bell on the counter, a chair scraped, and an enormous woman appeared, bulging at the seams of her dress, her ample bosoms down on her waistline. She was swarthy, with dark patches below her eyes, and her black hair was coiled in a vast pigtail that snaked over her bosoms. A little man lurked in the background, his eyes like those of a fox, Dannie thought.

His cheeks were sunken and pockmarked. Another woman, younger-looking, smiled behind him. ‘Julie,’ the fat lady said. ‘Another little friend?’

‘Another.’ ‘Well now, so young, you’re a pretty one too.’ The fat lady’s eyes roved over Dannie’s small form. Dannie felt intensely embarrassed and frightened, though why, she couldn’t have said. ‘Well now, you want a bed dear?

We got one room, like more a cupboard, but still. The bed’s clean, wash down the corridor. I expect you’re tired, you’d like to go to sleep now?’ ‘Yes Missus, please.’ ‘She’s a polite one, anyway.’ The female mountain said. ‘Yeah, well,’ Julie said. ‘Cheerio kid. I gotta get home.’ She turned and departed. Dannie felt dismayed that Julie had not said ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Perhaps Julie didn’t like her after all. ‘So, run away, have yer? Why was that then?’ ‘My father, he beat me.’

‘Oh dear, poor little thing. The room I got is tiny, but you’re small. I’ll show yer. The bathroom’s that door at the end. This is your room.’ She opened a door that had only just opened to the full. The bed, only two feet wide was revealed. ‘There you are. Thirty quid for the night, payable now.’ Dannie was shocked.

Half her day’s earnings were going immediately on this cupboard with no window, with a bed she would be frightened of falling off. ‘I’ll bring you a nice cup of chocolate, send you to sleep. You’ll be safe here.’ She went to the bathroom and removed her makeup. Dannie thought how kind the woman was for someone so scary looking, but as she washed, a chill swept over her and it was not from the tepid water she washed in. The woman was creepy and that man, really frightening, the way he had leered.

She wondered whether to run now but anything was better than sleeping on the street. Returning to the room, she found the hot chocolate waiting on the floor outside. She dumped her stuff and then retrieved the cup of chocolate. What if, she thought, what if it was drugged? Her imagination was running wild. Alarms were ringing in her brain. When she had been so worried about her future, seeing no future like Daniel, she had thought of running away.

Away from home, she’d thought, she could become Daniella, long before Rachel had discovered her in that swing dance dress. She had read about kids running away and seemingly, just disappearing. Then she had read about child exploitation, the kids, girls, of twelve and thirteen being abused and turned into prostitutes in Rotherham and other towns up and down the land.

She couldn’t imagine having sex with anyone, never mind people like that, those ugly men, who used girls like animals, worse than they would treat a dog. In the film, the reconstruction of the abuse, started with a drink, getting the girls in a stupor before they were raped, then it was a round of blackmail, sex, alcohol, drugs, treats of clothing, and trinkets.

She was suddenly terrified. She decided to not drink the hot chocolate, in case. She felt undressed without her makeup, revealed as Daniel without it. She was too terrified to undress. She moved the bed to be against the door and jammed the old wooden kitchen chair on the other side, so no one could force their way in. She cried herself to sleep, realizing that she could not live like this.

She wanted Rachel, she wanted Mum, even though her mother seemed so cold at times. She wanted her two faithful friends, Jen and Lisa and she wanted to be back in school even though some, particularly Lee, Martin, and their gang were so cruel. She wanted to curl up in her own bed with her cat, ‘Brandy’ beside her. She woke from a disturbed shallow sleep. Someone was trying to enter the room, pushing with all their might to open the door.

Dannie, terrified almost fell from the bed, crouching down, pushed on the bed that kept the door from opening. She stayed completely silent. The shoving on the door ceased and she heard mumbled conversation. She put her handbag around her neck and made sure all her things were in her bag. She sat in darkness, her heart thumping, knowing she had to escape.

She looked at her watch, using the light from a crack where the door met the frame. She saw the time was one-thirty-five. She heard voices again, this time they were nearer. She caught the woman’s voice, ‘Too early. Let her settle. If not tonight, tomorrow. If not her, another will be along, but she’s a ripe one.’ ‘I thought the chocolate would do it.’ A man’s voice rumbled deeply in reply, Dannie couldn’t catch the rest of the words.

Dannie’s head swam in fear. She needed to escape. What was this smelly dump she had landed in? Why on earth had Julie brought her to such a place? She felt betrayed. The feeling of that betrayal was devastating. She needed someone who loved her and would keep her safe. There was only one person she could turn to, dear Rachel.

Perhaps she could protect her from father, she hoped. Rache who had promised to get a flat and take her with her. There was no one else. She waited until all was quiet. In whimpering fear, she moved the furniture that blocked the door, feeling her way in the pitch black of the room. Cautiously, she opened the door a crack and listened intently. The dim light of the unshaded bulb in the hallway,  cast a shaft of light into what was really no more than a cupboard. There was no sound.

She looked at her watch. Three twenty. Surely, everyone would be asleep now. She squeezed through the door and tip-toed in bare feet towards the front door carrying her shoes. A door to the left revealed light and the glow from a TV. She came breathlessly to the front door and found it bolted top and bottom. She stood on tip-toes and moved the bolt aside. She bent and moved the bottom one. It was stiff. She used all her strength and the bolt gave and shot back with a clunk. A voice shouted behind her. She clutched her bags and dropped her shoes.

Dannie dare not scrabble for them on the floor. She wrenched the door open and fled into the street in her bare feet, not looking back. She ran down towards the river, turned up the next street, back towards the Strand. A dog came out of a darkened doorway and barked and a rough sleeper stirred, and shouted something, frightening her. She ran and ran, her pack banging against her back. She didn’t know she could run as far or as quickly. She carried on down the Strand towards Trafalgar Square, thinking to try for shelter in St Martin’s as Sian had told her.

She stopped, out of breath, and sheltered in a darkened shop doorway, where she thought she would be out of sight of any pursuer. Her ankle was gripped by a bony dry hand, the fingers digging into her flesh. She shrieked and tried to break free as another hand groped higher up her leg. She lashed down with her backpack and was rewarded by a gasp and a voice saying, ‘Sod!’ The grip relaxed and she tore free from the rough sleeper she had disturbed. Short of breath, though she was, she forced herself into a run again, uttering sobs of panic.

Through tear-filled eyes, her nose oozing mucous, she spotted a sign that said police. She crossed the Strand, without taking the usual care, a taxi braked sharply and the driver leaned from his window, swearing at her. She didn’t stop, the near miss simply gave speed to her legs and she ran up Agar street. The police station looked like a temple. It had a triangular roof over the entrance supported on pillars, but it said, Charing Cross Police Station in black letters.

She had never thought she would be so pleased to enter a police station, but to her, in that moment, it represented the refuge she so needed. She mounted the stone steps and pushed violently through the doors, tears running freely, gasping for breath, her hair caught across her face in the wetness of tears and mucous. Anyone would have recognized someone in severe distress.

There were three or four people sitting, looking hopeless. A sergeant stood behind a desk talking to someone. ‘Please,’ Dannie said, interrupting. The Sergeant looked her over. He raised a flap that allowed access and came to her. ‘What’s the matter, young lady?’ ‘I want to go home.’ Dannie said. ‘OK. Who are you?’ ‘Daniella Artherton.’ ‘You better come with me, Daniella.’ With a hand on her shoulder, he punched numbers into a door lock and escorted her into a corridor that had several doors off. He opened a door and ushered her into a room that held a table and four chairs. ‘Sit there. Daniella Artherton?’

‘Yes, Daniella Artherton.’ ‘Stay there and sit quietly. You are safe here. I’ll get someone to come and see you. I think you made the TV today. Your family wants you back.’ He closed the door and it clicked shut. Dannie sat and sobbed. After a minute or two, she found her last tissue and blew her nose, and wiped her tears. She breathed deeply and waited for whatever would happen next. At least she was safe. She laid her head on the table and sobbed.

The door opened and a man and a woman entered. The woman was in ordinary clothes, the man in a police uniform. He was young, quite nice looking, she thought, a boy she would like to have as a brother. He was about as old as her sister. The woman produced tissues for her to clean her face. ‘I’m PC Sam Hall and this is Mrs. Bailey who is here to make sure we look after you.’ The young man said. ‘Tell us who you are.’ Dannie gave her name. ‘Your sister is looking for you. You made TV last night. Did you know that?’

‘No.’ ‘Well now Daniella. We are glad to see you and so will your family be.’ The lady said. ‘Running away is never a good idea, it’s dangerous, particularly for a child, a girl like you. We know why you did it, but next time, God forbid, go to a friend. The world out there is dangerous. You could be murdered or worse.

Now, you are not going to run away again, are you?’ ‘No Miss.’ ‘OK. Let’s all go to the canteen. On the way, we can stop at the ladies for you to clean up, then maybe we can get a cup of tea and have a chat.’ Sam Hall said. The lady took her hand, ‘Come along Daniella, you’re safe now dear.’ She told her. She took her to the ladies and waited while Dannie sorted herself out. When Dannie had washed her face and used some makeup, they continued down the corridor and up some stairs to the canteen. ‘Are you hungry young lady?’

She asked. Dannie shook her head. ‘Maybe later we’ll have breakfast. Tea, you drink tea?’ Sam asked her. ‘Yes please.’ Sam went to the counter and spoke to an old lady. Dannie and the chaperone sat and waited. The policeman brought them tea and biscuits. ‘Well now, Daniella Artherton. Your sister put out a plea on TV for you to return home. She’s very worried.’ ‘I tried to phone, but the phone I bought is a dud. The battery won’t hold a charge.’ ‘So, you do want to return home?’

Dannie nodded, ‘As long as Dad’s not there.’ ‘Well, we will be keeping you here until your sister can come and collect you. You would like her too?’ ‘Of course. Rache is absolutely the best.’ ‘She’ll be coming to collect you later this morning, I’m sure. She was crying on TV, you don’t want her to do that again do you?’ The lady said. ‘No, but it wasn’t her I was running from. My Dad beat me up and wrecked my room and tore my clothes.’

‘Have you no shoes?’ ‘I dropped them when I ran away from the hotel.’ ‘Which hotel was that?’ ‘It said Earl’s Hotel. It was a smelly dump, in one of those streets running down to the river.’ ‘I think we know it. Perhaps we’ll see if we can recover your shoes this morning. Where were you working?’ ‘I forgot.’ ‘You mean you won’t say?’ The policeman asked.

‘They were kind to me.’ ‘Yes, but employing underage people or immigrants who aren’t supposed to be working, leads to exploitation. Is that being kind?’ ‘They didn’t exploit me. It was fun, hard work, but fifty pounds for seven hours of work, plus I got fed and tips. I cleared seventy for the day.’ ‘Never mind, then. Why did you run out of the hotel at three-thirty in the morning?’ ‘Someone tried to get in my room, then I heard them talking, saying they would try again later.

They said if not tonight, the next night. Maybe I imagined things, but they were frightening people.’ ‘You did the right thing. Why did you go to Earl’s?’ How on earth did you select that dump?’ ‘Julie took me there.’ ‘And who is Julie?’ ‘The woman I worked with, the other waitress.’ ‘A bad choice wasn’t it? Why there?’ ‘I just said.’ ‘Why did she take you to Earl’s?’ ‘Julie said the owner was a friend but I had to pay thirty-five pounds for the night.’ ‘I think we need to talk to Julie.

Don’t you?’ ‘I’m sure she thought she was doing her best.’ ‘What if she has done this before, to other kids, kids that have disappeared?’ ‘I don’t think she would have. She was nice.’ ‘Where was this?’ ‘In Soho, a pub.’ ‘Know Soho do you?’ ‘No, just I passed the pub and they wanted a washer up.’ ‘Which pub? The Guardsman, the Three Bells?’ ‘The Belle of Soho Square.’ ‘Oh, nice pub.

Now we need to get you safely home.’ ‘Yeah but, my Dad. What will he do? I thought he was going to kill me.’ “I’m sure that’s been taken care of. No one has interfered with you? Tried to sleep with you?’ ‘They tried to get in my room, but I had put the chair and bed against it.’ ‘That must have been frightening. They’ll be serving breakfast here.

Could you eat some? Bacon, eggs, beans, toast?’ ‘I might, in a bit, now I know Rache wants me back.’ ‘Good girl. Mrs. Bailey will stay with you until the new shift arrives. Don’t run away again, will you?’ ‘No sir, I just want Rachel to come.’