Читать книгу Cry Myself to Sleep: He had to escape. They would never hurt him again. - Joe Peters - Страница 12

We drove for about half an hour and pulled up outside a big grey block of council flats, the sort with open concrete walkways on every floor leading from one front door to the next past windows shrouded in net curtains, protected by metal bars or boarded up.

‘Maybe we should get back,’ I said to Jake as I stared up at the forbidding, bleak-looking buildings.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Jake said, avoiding my eyes. ‘Let’s at least have something to eat. I’m hungry.’

‘It’s OK, fella,’ Max said, obviously able to see how nervous I had become again. ‘No one will try to hurt you. If they do, I’ll beat them up for you.’

He and Brad led the way without bothering to look back, laughing and talking together as if they were confident we would follow. Realizing that I had no idea how to get away from the area on my own anyway, I took a deep breath and went after them, clutching my bag tightly to me, sure I was going to be mugged despite Max’s assurances and even though there didn’t seem to be anyone around. Max and Brad were being so friendly and they weren’t trying to force me to go with them, and Jake seemed perfectly happy with them, so why was I being so fearful? I told myself to stop being paranoid. I couldn’t let my past experiences make me frightened for ever.

We climbed some concrete stairs past walls covered in aggressive-looking graffiti and went along one of the walkways until we reached a black front door with a glass panel in the top. The bottom panel had been boarded over, as if someone had kicked the glass in. Max let us in. As I walked into the front room I could smell a sweet, smoky aroma, which I later discovered was cannabis. There were two guys on a sofa, sucking smoke up from a hubble-bubble, both giggling and stoned.

‘Hi, Jake,’ they called out when they saw him. ‘Come here.’

Jake went over and they were hugging and kissing him, which I thought was a bit odd, ruffling his hair and being really mellow and friendly. I began to relax a little, despite the unfamiliar surroundings. They encouraged me to take a suck of the smoke, which was the first time I had ever done it. I didn’t even smoke cigarettes and I nearly choked as it burned into the back of my throat, making the others fall about laughing like hyenas at my discomfort. They encouraged me to take hit after hit, assuring me I would get used to it soon. As I became high, I felt a bit dizzy and had trouble protesting when Max offered to take my bag off me so that I could be more comfortable, so I just clung on to it as tightly as I could. The cannabis was making me feel strangely calm and accepting of everything that was happening. I found myself chattering away as if they were my oldest friends in the world. They brought me some food, but I wasn’t hungry, feeling a bit sick from the smoke.

‘So,’ Max said, ‘do you like to earn money, Joe?’

Shocked by the suddenness of the question, I tried to muster my drifting thoughts into some sort of order; I was fearful that if I wasn’t careful I would commit myself to doing something I might later regret.

‘Yeah,’ I said, cautiously. ‘I suppose so.’

‘You want a job?’

I thought perhaps he needed someone to clean the flat or something. It looked as if it needed it. ‘Yeah.’

‘What would you be willing to do for it?’ he asked.

‘Anything,’ I said, not bothered by how hard or demeaning the job might be, knowing that beggars couldn’t be choosers in the jobs market. I had to start somewhere, after all.

‘Anything? Right. Would you sleep with a woman?’

Even to my befuddled brain that sounded like an odd question. ‘Course I would.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded wisely. ‘Would you sleep with a man?’

The moment his words penetrated my consciousness alarm bells went off inside my head and I doubled my efforts to sober up and concentrate on what was going on. In a second I was transported back to the vile house that Uncle Douglas used to take me to for days on end, locking me in with the other kids and forcing us all to do the most disgusting things with the men who came to the door, beating us if we dared to protest or refuse, or even to make eye contact or speak before we were spoken to. For a horrible moment I wondered if Max was one of the people who liked to watch the films that Uncle Douglas and his friends had made of us. Was that why he was asking these questions? Had he seen me being raped and believed I’d enjoyed it? I realized now that Max had the same air about him as Douglas and his friends. That was why he had made me so uneasy from the start; that was why he had made me feel so afraid before I even knew why. The other guys in the room just kept on bonging as if they couldn’t hear the conversation, or as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be discussing when we hardly even knew each other. They were far too stoned to be able to help me, even if they had wanted to.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t sleep with a man.’

‘Why not?’ He pretended to be surprised by my answer, as if it was stupid or something.

‘I don’t do that,’ I said, trying not to let the fear I was feeling affect my voice. I wanted to stay in charge. I had to or else I would be a helpless kid again, as I had been for the previous ten years or more of my life. ‘I’m not gay.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with being gay,’ Max said. ‘It’s about earning money, boy. You can earn good money with me. I’ve got your friend Jake here. He doesn’t mind sleeping with men.’

Jake was either too stoned to notice what was going on or deliberately avoiding looking at me.

‘I’ve gotta go now,’ I said, struggling to get to my feet, willing my legs to stop wobbling beneath me. It didn’t matter how threatening the estate outside might look: I could see now that this flat was where the real danger lay. I remembered Sarah’s warnings my first night on the streets, telling me to steer clear of Jake and Max. She must have known all about this. I realized now why Jake disappeared during the night so often: he was on the game and Max was his pimp. That was why Jock hated Max so much. I wished Jock and Sarah had explained things to me more clearly. I would never have made the stupid mistake of getting into Max’s car if I had known what he was into. This was my worst nightmare, the very reason I had run away from home in the first place. I couldn’t believe I had been so stupid and naïve. The moment I got unsteadily to my feet Max pushed me back down and I toppled over on to the sofa.

‘You’re staying,’ he told me. ‘You’re in my house now and I’ll tell you when you are going to leave. I’ve got a punter coming round. He wants to see you.’

I wasn’t sure what a ‘punter’ was, but it didn’t sound good.

‘I’ll show you to your room now,’ he said.

‘No,’ I shouted. ‘I want to go.’

‘I’ll show you your fucking room,’ he said again and there was no mistaking the menace in his voice. He grabbed my skinny arm so tightly with his giant hand that it made me squeak from the pain as he lifted me bodily off the sofa, propelling me towards the door, still clutching my bag. The more I struggled the tighter his grip became, his fingers digging in.

‘Just do what I fucking tell you,’ he hissed into my face. ‘Don’t be fucking disrespectful.’

‘It’s all right, mate,’ Jake slurred from the depths of the other sofa. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘I want to go,’ I screamed, the panic overwhelming me and making my voice hysterical.

As Max dragged me through to the bedroom, I noticed there was a key in the lock on the outside and my panic doubled as every memory of being imprisoned rushed back. Once I was past that door they would be able to keep me there for years and there would be nothing I could do about it, just as it had been with Mum and the men at home. I fought and struggled with all my strength, but I didn’t have a chance against Max. He grabbed me in a headlock, ripped my bag from my grip and threw me into the room, slamming the door behind me and turning the key.

After a few seconds I forced myself to calm down, knowing that was my only chance of finding a way out. I looked around the room. There was a double bed, made up with fairly clean bedclothes. In fact it looked pretty much like a normal bedroom apart from the fact that the window had been boarded up with screws, cutting out all natural light and the only chance of escape. There was a flimsy wardrobe, which let a stale smell out into the room when I opened the doors. My fear was making me angry and I went back to the door, kicking and banging and shouting to be let out. After a minute I heard footsteps outside. The key clicked in the lock and the door flew open as Max burst in and punched me hard in the side of the head, knocking me to the floor with an explosion of light in my brain.