BETRAYED. Jacqui Rose

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      10

      A naked body has been found in Regents Park Canal. It is believed to be that of missing eight-year-old schoolgirl, Julie Cole. No official statement has been made, but a police source tells LBC radio that an initial post-mortem examination shows she died from strangulation. It is also believed Julie had been sexually abused.

      Bunny sat on the edge of her deep sunk porcelain bath. Her whole body was tense as she listened to the radio. Her head began to swim and the old familiar fear gripped her stomach.

      ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost, babe.’

      Bunny looked up. It was Del. She smiled, pleased to see him.

      ‘They’ve just said on the radio that kid, Julie Cole that went missing: she’s dead.’

      ‘I dunno why you listen to that shit, ain’t nothing but misery and you know what you’re like, Bun, anything to do with animals or kids and you’re all over the place. Anyhow, forget that, I’ve got something that will put a smile on your boat. Someone’s got something they want to show you.’

      Del stood in the bathroom doorway and looked behind him. A moment later a little girl appeared, carrying a beautiful smile and a painting in her hand.

      ‘Look Mummy, I did it at school.’

      Bunny’s sad eyes lit up as Star stood proudly, holding up the painting she’d done.

      ‘Well come here then, let’s have a proper butcher’s.’

      Star skipped to Bunny, her long blonde hair – identical to her mother’s – flowing down her back. Her freckled button nose crinkled slightly as she laughed, delighting in the pleasure Bunny showed at her picture.

      ‘Do you like it then? The teacher said she wanted to put it on the wall, but I told her she ain’t going to do that, ’cos I wanted to bring it home to you and if she’s got a problem with that she needs to speak to me dad.’

      Bunny laughed loudly at her daughter’s boldness. ‘I think it’s wonderful, babe. Who’s this though, darling?’ Bunny pointed to the indistinguishable mass of colours.

      Star frowned at her mother as if she was crazy. ‘That’s you and that’s Daddy of course, on an adventure. You’re trying to get away from pirates.’

      ‘You and your adventures. Couldn’t you have drawn me in the beauty salon? I’m not sure if I want to go to sea.’

      Star laughed with her mother. ‘Nah, that would be boring. Who wants to get their nails painted when you could go exploring? That’s what I’m going to be when I grow up. An explorer.’

      Bunny looked at Del and laughed again. Star was certainly her father’s daughter. Strong, wilful – yet she could charm any adult or child alike.

      Even after seven years she still had to pinch herself at how everything had turned out, because Bunny knew only too well how it could’ve been.

      She’d been a hooker since she’d left care and had always known how to look after herself, especially when it came to her health. She wasn’t like the other girls, who for an extra twenty quid would do it bareback. Condom or do one. That was her motto and she religiously lived by it. That was, until she met Del.

      She’d known who he was. Everyone knew who he was, he’d made it his business for everyone to know. And it was for this reason Bunny had stayed well clear of him, refusing to flit around him like the other girls did when she saw him in the clubs, flashing his money about and ordering bottles of Cristal champagne for everybody, giving it the big ’un.

      The night she’d met him, business had been slow. She’d been touting on the corner of Greek Street for over two hours without a sniff of a punter when he’d pulled up in his grey Lamborghini. She hadn’t been impressed and had seen him as she always had done before: flash and tacky. Still, that said, a punter was a punter.

      To her surprise he hadn’t wanted her to give him a blow job round the back of Soho Square – he’d told her later he’d been watching her for some time and had tried to think of ways for her to see him as more than just a punter. He’d taken her to Lola’s Cafe on Bateman Street, where he’d bought her a cup of tea and a fried egg sandwich to warm her up. They’d talked for hours. About his business. About Edith. About everything. At first she’d watched the clock, working out how much money he’d have to give her at the end of the night, but soon she’d found herself forgetting about the time and had just enjoyed his company.