Heartless (13 page)

Staring at a damp patch around the strip light, Dolly’s thoughts turned back to Trevor. Big, bad Trevor Creevy would be doing his nut over his best little earner being holed up in prison again. She hoped he was stewing over this, it would serve him right. She worked her arse off for that man because she had no choice. He made sure of that, always there lurking in the background, ‘keeping an eye on her’. He even let her have a room in his house as a reward while he counted the money that she had been forced to lie on her back and earn for him. He had eyes and ears everywhere, that bloke; he made it his business to know everything about each girl that he had working for him. Getting sent to prison was the only way that she could escape from him, that’s why she wasn’t so bothered about the pigs pulling her in all the time. This time she had played a blinder. Caught with her whole day’s takings and a bag of gear from a generous punter for extras, Dolly had argued with and cursed at the officers until they had been left with no choice but to pull her in. What with the numerous offences she had stacked up against her, and her previous convictions, she had known she’d be sent down. It was only three weeks, but she didn’t care. She had felt dog-tired lately and had been looking forward to her stretch. The system was a joke. Prison certainly wasn’t the punishment it was made out to be; in contrast to her world outside, being inside was a saving grace, for a brief spell anyway.

Three weeks away from Trevor’s controlling grasp with no slimy punters and a chance to get her head straight again was exactly what she needed.

Trevor would be doing his nut over it, and there was nothing that he could do about it. Her sentence would hit him harder than it did her, in the only place that hurt him: his pocket.

Smiling, Dolly closed her eyes. She was looking forward to some well-earned time off.

Chapter Nineteen

Except for the bed that she was lying on, the room was bare of furniture. The light above her flickered as she tried to stay focused.

Beads of sweat trickled down her torso as she writhed in agony. Her clammy hands slipped as she tried to grip the bed’s metal handrail as she braced herself for another surge of pain.

The officer standing in the doorway had a detached expression; she remained silent as she watched. How could she stand there impassively, ignoring the suffering she was witnessing?

The pain was coming once more: stronger and more intense than before.

“Please,” she begged. “Please don’t make me do this.” She shook her head and tried her hardest to control her tears.

She wouldn’t give the officer the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Feeling the pain build inside her again, she let out a shrill scream. After that she felt weak and faint, unsure how much strength she had left.

Her heart hammered inside her chest.

“Please help me,” she pleaded, to no avail. The officer was seemingly void of all feeling.

Where was the compassion?

Retreating inside herself once more as the pain slowly started to grip her again, she took long controlled breaths, inhaling as though her life depended on it.

Her body was exhausted. She wanted to close her eyes and make it all go away. Make everything go away. She moaned, too tired to release the scream caught in the back of her throat.

She felt herself losing control.

Then she saw the blood.

Sobbing, she gave in to her tears. The scream that filled the small room was like that of a wounded animal as it howled in pain. Feeling her body convulse, she felt herself being ripped in two.

Then Sophia awoke. She was panting hard, her heart racing just as it had done in her nightmare. The delicate silvery light of the moon illuminated the room just enough that she could recognise the familiar outline of the window bars as they created a shadow in the middle of the floor. That and Dolly, sitting next to her on the bed, brought her back to reality.

“It’s alright, Sophia; you’re okay. It was just a bad dream. You’re alright, mate. I’m here.” Dolly’s gentle voice was soothing as she leaned over Sophia and stroked her hair.

Dolly had been worried when she had woken up to the sound of Sophia tossing and turning in bed, crying out for help. Having thought at first that she was having a fit, it had taken her a moment to realise that Sophia was asleep. As Dolly tried to rouse her, Sophia had lashed out at her before waking up.

Realising that Dolly’s arms were around her in a bid to comfort her Sophia took long, deep breaths to calm down. Then, she sat up and reached for her beaker of water from the top of her locker. Tonight’s dream had been the same as usual. Even in her sleep, her demons caught up with her.

“Must have scared you good and proper, whatever it was you were dreaming about. Your hands are still shaking,” Dolly said, as she placed her hands around the plastic cup, helping Sophia to drink the water.

Sophia took a long thirsty gulp. Gradually her heartbeat slowed.

“I used to have night terrors too. They’d be so bad sometimes I wouldn’t be able to shake them off for ages,” Dolly said.

Sophia flung her head back down on her pillow, exhausted.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling emotional. It has been a long time since she had felt the warmth of someone’s arms wrapped around her as they reassured her that everything was going to be alright. She was really grateful, but the dream had left her feeling so shaken up that she was scared that Dolly would make her talk about it. And she couldn’t: not yet.

Dolly got back into her own bed and listened to Sophia’s breathing quieten before turning into a soft cry.

“Sophia, are you sure that you’re okay?” Dolly asked, concerned. She had barely known the girl for twenty-four hours, but it was crystal clear that Sophia had problems. Dolly had met girls like her before. They withdrew themselves from people and situations so that they couldn’t get hurt, putting an invisible guard up, but it didn’t fool Dolly, she could tell when a girl may appear strong on the outside but on the inside it was a completely different story.

“I’ll be fine in a minute, and I’m sorry you woke up. Can’t even remember what the dream was about now; just gave me a fright, that’s all.” Sophia wiped her tears away. She couldn’t bear to talk about the recurring dream. There was barely a night that went by in here when she didn’t have it. Every time that she gave in to sleep, it was like she was being haunted. She would close her eyes and, before she knew it, she was confronted by the ghosts of her past. Dolly would have to contend with this each night until Sophia left.

“You don’t need to apologise, love; as long as you’re alright. Just remember it was just a silly nightmare, it can’t hurt you,” Dolly said, feeling sorry for the poor girl.

Shivering, Sophia wrapped her blanket around her, feeling the warmth envelop her. She knew that she was in for a long night. Her night terrors often left her wide awake, her mind circling, unable to shake off the dreams that affected her so badly.

The nights were worse than the days in prison. Once the dark thoughts had crept in there was no escaping them. At least in the day it was possible to avoid thinking about things too much by keeping busy.

Soon, however, it would be over. In less than two weeks she would be out, catapulted back into a world that had almost forgotten her. A world that didn’t know she existed anymore.

And once she was out, her bad dreams would be the least of her worries. Dolly was right, nightmares couldn’t hurt her. But reality could.

Chapter Twenty

“Here, look at the state of her.” Dolly nodded across the canteen as Ruth Parker marched past their table, her fists clenched, followed closely by her friends.

Ruth’s angry face could have given a slapped arse a run for its money. Dolly watched as she stomped about, every part of the woman wobbling as she moved. She could tell by her body language that somebody had severely pissed her off and she didn’t have to wait long to find out who it was.

Ruth strode over to the table where Imelda Grey was eating her breakfast alone, and sat down next to her, glaring. Imelda didn’t react; instead she wisely kept her head and pretended that she hadn’t noticed the woman that was now stationed next to her, with her cronies standing behind her as backup.

“It’s all going to kick off,” Dolly said, her cold and soggy toast halfway to her mouth.

“Ruth’s a bloody head-case. She’s in my cookery class: eats more pies than she bakes,” Sophia said, as she glanced around to see what Dolly was looking at. “She did away with her husband because he was dipping his wick in places he shouldn’t have been, Imelda being one of them. Ruth poisoned him, apparently, sent him to his grave after dishing him up his last supper, ended up getting life for it. Apparently when it all went to trial she laughed as she told the judge that if the cheating bastard didn’t want her then he wouldn’t be having anyone else. What are the chances that a year down the line Imelda would get banged up in the same prison? Silly cow only got a few months for benefit fraud or something stupid. Ruth is going to make her life hell for the duration.”

“Jesus, what a fruit loop,” Dolly said, as she looked Ruth up and down. “Even I wouldn’t fancy my chances against that.” Ruth looked more butch than most men: Dolly could see exactly how waif-like Imelda would have appealed to Ruth’s late husband. Having sex with Ruth must have been like riding a fat-girl Rodeo in comparison to bedding skinny, sultry-looking Imelda; he probably thought he’d won the lottery.

“He told Ruth that he was going to leave her for Imelda. So Ruth blames Imelda for the whole thing. She’s been gunning for her since the minute she heard she’d been sent here. The officers are all watching Ruth, but they can’t keep an eye on her all the time can they? Imelda’s probably crapping herself.”

Ruth told her business to anyone who would listen, and Dolly was probably the only person in the prison who hadn’t heard this sob story a hundred times.

“Oh, Soph, what am I going to do when you get out? Who’s going to fill me in on all the gossip?” Dolly asked as she pushed her plate away.

Breakfast time in the canteen was becoming Dolly’s most favourite time of day. She enjoyed sitting with Sophia while she kept her up to speed with all the ins and outs about the other inmates. It passed the time, and after being locked away in their eight-by-ten-foot cell all night, especially with Sophia having nightmares, the light-hearted banter they shared in the mornings was a tonic.

“Four days left, bet you’re so excited to be going after all this time,” Dolly said, wondering if this was true: Sophia hadn’t said much about her family, nor about whom she had murdered and Dolly knew better than to pry. Sophia didn’t seem the violent type at all; in fact she seemed like a really nice girl. And the more time that passed, the more she felt like Sophia was letting her in a bit. She was still secretive about stuff, but that was her prerogative.

Dolly felt that she had made a genuine friend inside: she would miss Sophia.

“I guess,” Sophia said unconvincingly. “It’s weird: eight years ago I would have skipped out the prison gates, but I feel a bit scared. I’ve kind of got used to this place. These walls are funny like that... You hate them with a passion at first for being the barrier between you and everything outside, and then get used to them.”

Dolly couldn’t imagine doing an eight-year run; short little stints were all she had experienced. She understood what Sophia meant, though. It was safer in here that it was outside for many of the girls. And they had a routine in here. Some of them managed to get clean and re-train. It was a different world.

“Have you got anyone on the outside waiting for you, to help you get back on your feet?” Dolly asked casually.

“My mum and my nan,” Sophia said quietly. “My mum’s in and out of hospital with her nerves, though. She had a breakdown just after my... just after I got sent down. She hasn’t been to visit me for years. Seeing me in here made her a million times worse apparently.”

Dolly listened; she was scared to comment in case Sophia clammed up again.

“My nan’s all I have really, and she’s getting on a bit: eighty last week. You’d love her: she’s so funny. She’s the only person who comes to see me. She’s visited regularly since my very first day in here,” Sophia said proudly before adding, “but she isn’t too well at the moment, hasn’t been in for over a month. When I get out of here it’ll be my turn to make it up to her.” Sophia longed to show her nan how grateful she was for her belief in her innocence. Her nan was the only one who felt like that. Her mum had said she did on the rare occasions that they had spoken since the start of Sophia’s sentence. However, she had never said it with much conviction, and she was often barely coherent due to her heavy medication.

Having said more about herself during the breakfast than in the whole of the ten days that Dolly had shared a cell with her, Sophia went quiet again. Dolly knew that was all she would be getting for now, although she wanted to know more. The nightmares occurred every single night and even though Dolly had managed to catch the odd word that Sophia shouted out here and there, whenever she mentioned them to her cell-mate she quickly changed the subject. There was something that had happened that had greatly affected her, but Dolly was just going to have to wait until Sophia was ready to find out what it was.

“Can we stay in touch when you get out?” Dolly asked, surprising herself. She didn’t really have any real friends as such, even on the outside, but Sophia was different.

“Of course,” Sophia said, laughing at Dolly’s coyness. “We’re mates, aren’t we? Oh, for fuck’s sake, here comes Cockroach.”

Dolly followed Sophia’s eyes, seeing Officer Roache making his way to their table. She groaned. Although he was new, Roache had already earned himself a reputation amongst the ladies. If any of the women needed anything brought in, he was the man to talk to. Mobile phones; vodka; extra tobacco... you name it and he would get it, for a price of course. Sophia had warned Dolly about him and Dolly had assured her that she was more than capable of handling the little parasite’s advances should she ever need to.

Roache smiled as he stopped at the girls’ table, and then scanned the room as he checked none of the other officers was watching. “Dolly, isn’t it? I need a word.”

Roache nodded to her to get up, ignoring Sophia who he couldn't stand. She was a stunner, he would give her that much, but she was also a stuck-up little cow. He had tried it on with her, as he had done all the others in here, but Sophia had thought she was above him and had not only refused his advances but she’d also grassed him up to the governor, complaining that he was harassing her. Luckily for Roache, he and the governor were very good friends and the grievance had never gone any further than between the two of them. But knowing what a narky bitch Sophia could be, Roache had been careful to give the girl a wide birth ever since: the stupid little slag wasn’t worth the agro.

Sophia looked at Dolly questioningly. Dolly nodded to indicate to her friend that she was fine, before she reluctantly pushed her chair back and gathered up her tray. Sophia watched as Roache followed Dolly out of the canteen all the while his greedy eyes staring at her arse as she walked. Shaking her head in disgust, Sophia looked to see if any of the other officers had noticed. It didn’t look like it. The male officers were always supposed to have a female officer present when with an inmate on a one-to-one basis, but in reality that rarely happened. Roache was such a pervert Sophia couldn’t fathom how he got away with all the stuff that he did. She guessed that the staff just turned a blind eye.

A voice boomed out behind Sophia, interrupting her thoughts. “You slag! My Harry’s in the ground because of you. If you’d kept your dirty stink-hole to yourself none of this would have happened.”

A tray of food landed face down on the floor next to Sophia’s feet, along with a dishevelled-looking Imelda Grey.

Sophia jumped out of the way in the nick of time, as Ruth hurled a jug of boiling water into Imelda’s face.

Standing back, Sophia watched in horror as Imelda screamed in pain as the water scalded her skin while Ruth’s cronies circled around her, making it hard for any officers nearby to intervene. Sophia felt sick at the screeching sounds Imelda was making, but Ruth was laughing: she was obviously enjoying seeing Imelda suffer. Then, Ruth started raining blows down on the girl’s face for good measure. By the time that three officers had been able to pull Ruth off her, Imelda was seemingly unconscious.

***

“So, a little birdie told me that you’re good at looking after men, Dolly, that you know what makes us happy,” Roache said after he had followed Dolly into her cell, and locked the door behind him. Walking over to her bed, he indicated to Dolly to sit down. When she didn’t move, he pushed her down and then moved in closer so that he was looming above her.

“What are you talking about; what ‘little birdie?” Dolly pretended to be puzzled. If this slimy pervert thought he was getting a freebie because he had heard she was on the game, he could get stuffed.

Roache ignored the girl’s questions as he placed his finger inside Dolly’s T-shirt and ran it slowly across her décolletage.

“I’ve got this mate, you see, and he owes me a few favours: big favours. He said that you would take care of me.” Roache leaned in closer, standing in such close proximity that his crotch was almost touching her face as he spoke. He was enjoying his moment. Dolly wasn’t being nice enough to him. But she soon would be.

“And who would that be?” Dolly scoffed, wondering what this bastard was playing at. She instinctively leaned backwards, trying to get away from the officer as he invaded her space, obviously trying to intimidate her.

Roache started to undo the fly on his uniform trousers, sucking in his paunch as he did so. Watched in shock as Officer Roache pulled his erect cock out of his pants and held it in front of her face, Dolly could see beads of sweat form on the officer’s large forehead. His little piggy eyes greedily roamed her body and he licked his lips.

“See, just because you’re in here doesn’t mean that you’re off duty.” Roache brushed the tip of his penis along her cheek, before pressing it firmly against her lips. “And you better do as you’re told, Dolly darling. Otherwise you’re going to be in big trouble.”

Roache leaned forward and gripped the back of Dolly’s head, causing her to screech as he dragged her closer to him.

“Trevor Creevy ring any bells?” he added, enjoying the look on her face as she realised that even in here Trevor had managed to get to her. “He told me to make sure that you’re paying your way while you’re in here, and with the amount of debt that he owes me I reckon you’re going to be a very busy girl.” Roache smiled, enjoying the look of dread spreading across Dolly’s pretty little face as she realised that he had her exactly where he wanted her.

Dolly wasn’t bad looking for a bird that worked for Trevor Creevy, and Roache liked that she looked unusually vulnerable. She wasn’t like the cold-hearted slags he was used to: the prostitutes who normally got banged up in here disgusted him; dregs of the earth, most of them. Dirty, cheap, immoral... they could have filled a Jeremy Kyle series. Most offered sexual favours in return for him smuggling them in cigarettes and vodka: always willing to get down on their knees as long as there was something in it for them.

This one was probably no different, deep down, although at least she had it going on in the looks department, being so young and pretty. She didn’t have that cold, hard-done-by look that most whores got after being on the streets for a while.

And she did look very young, Roache thought, as he examined her body closely. But despite the innocent school-girl appearance, Roache would bet money on her being excellent in the sack.

Dolly closed her eyes, rigid with anger at what was coming. Disgusted that the officer had started playing with himself, she grimaced as he tugged himself off in her face, his cock bashing against the skin of her cheek.

“I reckon this is a good a place as any to start, don’t you?” Roache flipped her over so she was face down on the bed, and then yanked down her tracksuit bottoms.

Positioning himself close behind her as he knelt on all fours, he rammed himself inside her, barely able to contain himself any longer.

Wincing, humiliated, Dolly had no choice but to do as she was told.

Outside she would have been ready for this; nothing fazed her when she was working, sex was what she did. But she hadn’t expected it to happen in here and somehow she had let her guard down.

Even though she was locked away in prison, Trevor had managed to get to her. She had thought that she was getting a break from all that. She realised that she should have phoned him. He wouldn’t have appreciated her playing games, and maybe because she had avoided calling him since she had been inside, enjoying the tiny bit of control that she had, he had thought he would teach her a lesson.

Dolly switched herself off from the grunting noise that Roache was making as he pounded against her buttocks: just like she did every time, with every man she had slept with.

It was just a job... just a job.

Roache gripped her shoulders, pushing himself harder and deeper inside her.

He wanted to keep fucking the girl. He wanted to make her sore, but he couldn’t control the intense hot quiver as it spread through his body as he held on to her arse cheeks. Tipping his head back, he tried to stifle his groan as he ejaculated.

It hadn’t lasted nearly as long as he wanted, but he would make sure that next time it did. As he zipped his fly up, he smiled.