that I come and see you,” he said. I could feel his breath on my cheek. He ran his hand down my hair, onto my back, very gently, like a lover. Then he punched me again, very hard, in the small of my back, just over one of my kidneys. “Don’t ever.” And then he walked out of the room and left me there.
CHAPTER FIVE
There was no laundry in the building where I lived. Just bedrooms, bathrooms, people, damp. It was a fifteen-minute walk to the nearest launderette. When I was going there, I always offered to take some laundry for the other women. Alice always said no, she must do it herself, she could not possibly ask me to do such a thing. Safeta always accepted gratefully. She spent most of her life washing other people’s things. It was nice for her not to do her own. Sally usually stared blankly at me, and then laughed and sometimes said yes, sometimes said no. I never understood why she laughed, or why the answer was different each time. I gathered the clothes in a blue plastic bag with string handles, and left for the launderette. The air was cold and damp, and it felt like it was raining even though it was not. I could still feel the weight of Corgan’s fist on my breast, there was a dull ache in my kidneys which would not go away, and my skin rose up in bumps, like it was cold, whenever I thought about his fingers trailing the length of my back.
“Hey, it’s the doctor,” a voice said. I looked up and saw Daniel leaning against his car, grinning at me.
“You lied to me,” I said. “I have nothing to say to you. If there is work I must do, then take me to it. He is using you as his taxi driver now, is he?”
For a moment, the grin slipped. Then it came back, and I knew that Daniel had years of practice at hiding how he felt behind that grin, that hair in front of his eyes like a veil.
“Look, Anna,” he said. “I understand how you’re feeling. But I had no idea what Corgan was going to do, honest, none at all.”
“You do not know how I am feeling,” I said. “Not at all.”
“Anna, come on—”
I ignored him and turned left, walking on towards the shops at great speed as if I thought that it was going to rain. I had not got very far when I heard his footsteps.
“Oi, Paula Radcliffe.”
I kept walking, the heavy bag banging against my legs. It was not Daniel who had hit me, who threatened Elena, but it was Daniel who got me into this. It was because of Daniel that I found myself lying on that bed, hurting hands on me.
He bounced past me, stopped in front of me with his hands up so I could not pass on the narrow pavement. I stepped into the road and walked past him without stopping. A taxi swerved and beeped its horn, and Daniel said, “Fucking hell.”
I kept walking. I did not want to speak to Daniel. I had been taken in by his smiles and his sweethearts and I had trusted that what he said was true. I thought that by doing this one job, this one thing that I could do and then bury away in my memory as a necessary evil, I would make myself safe. I thought that I would be able to put away my fears of being sent back to the place that was no longer my home. But he had fooled me, and now I was safe but only as long as Corgan wanted me to be, and now I was owned by him, to come when he whistled, like I was a dog. I walked faster. I was part of what Corgan did, I was part of his filthy business. I thought about what my father might have said. He would not have wanted me mixed up in such a thing. More than anyone, he would not have wanted it.
Daniel caught me up again, but this time he did not try and stop me, he walked beside me, matching my pace, but not saying anything. I ignored him, and walked on past shops with metal grilles on their windows and flats above them where nobody would want to live if they did not have to. This city is full of places like that.
“I’m not as important as you think I am,” Daniel said in the end.
“That would be hard,” I said. We kept
CHAPTER FIVE
There was no laundry in the building where I lived. Just bedrooms, bathrooms, people, damp. It was a fifteen-minute walk to the nearest launderette. When I was going there, I always offered to take some laundry for the other women. Alice always said no, she must do it herself, she could not possibly ask me to do such a thing. Safeta always accepted gratefully. She spent most of her life washing other people’s things. It was nice for her not to do her own. Sally usually stared blankly at me, and then laughed and sometimes said yes, sometimes said no. I never understood why she laughed, or why the answer was different each time. I gathered the clothes in a blue plastic bag with string handles, and left for the launderette. The air was cold and damp, and it felt like it was raining even though it was not. I could still feel the weight of Corgan’s fist on my breast, there was a dull ache in my kidneys which would not go away, and my skin rose up in bumps, like it was cold, whenever I thought about his fingers trailing the length of my back.
“Hey, it’s the doctor,” a voice said. I looked up and saw Daniel leaning against his car, grinning at me.
“You lied to me,” I said. “I have nothing to say to you. If there is work I must do, then take me to it. He is using you as his taxi driver now, is he?”
For a moment, the grin slipped. Then it came back, and I knew that Daniel had years of practice at hiding how he felt behind that grin, that hair in front of his eyes like a veil.
“Look, Anna,” he said. “I understand how you’re feeling. But I had no idea what Corgan was going to do, honest, none at all.”
“You do not know how I am feeling,” I said. “Not at all.”
“Anna, come on—”
I ignored him and turned left, walking on towards the shops at great speed as if I thought that it was going to rain. I had not got very far when I heard his footsteps.
“Oi, Paula Radcliffe.”
I kept walking, the heavy bag banging against my legs. It was not Daniel who had hit me, who threatened Elena, but it was Daniel who got me into this. It was because of Daniel that I found myself lying on that bed, hurting hands on me.
He bounced past me, stopped in front of me with his hands up so I could not pass on the narrow pavement. I stepped into the road and walked past him without stopping. A taxi swerved and beeped its horn, and Daniel said, “Fucking hell.”
I kept walking. I did not want to speak to Daniel. I had been taken in by his smiles and his sweethearts and I had trusted that what he said was true. I thought that by doing this one job, this one thing that I could do and then bury away in my memory as a necessary evil, I would make myself safe. I thought that I would be able to put away my fears of being sent back to the place that was no longer my home. But he had fooled me, and now I was safe but only as long as Corgan wanted me to be, and now I was owned by him, to come when he whistled, like I was a dog. I walked faster. I was part of what Corgan did, I was part of his filthy business. I thought about what my father might have said. He would not have wanted me mixed up in such a thing. More than anyone, he would not have wanted it.
Daniel caught me up again, but this time he did not try and stop me, he walked beside me, matching my pace, but not saying anything. I ignored him, and walked on past shops with metal grilles on their windows and flats above them where nobody would want to live if they did not have to. This city is full of places like that.
“I’m not as important as you think I am,” Daniel said in the end.
“That would be hard,” I said. We kept
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