Buying the Virgin

Chapter 94: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Ten

ELIZABETH

Charlotte nods, relaxing a bit, unfolding her arms. Will regards her, chin resting on his fist.

“You don’t like the Police much, do you Charlotte?”

“Not much, no.”

“Why not? I think there’s more to it than this misunderstanding over James.”

The folded arms are back. “Because on the half dozen or so occasions I ran away from Blessingmoors,

every single time, the Police caught me and took me in, and regardless of anything I tried to say to

them, delivered me right back there to have the shit beaten out of me.”

Will rubs his lower lip thoughtfully. “So, why did you agree to help us at all?”

“Because Mr Haswell asked me to.”

Will looks startled. “Mr Haswell? Richard here?”

“Yes.”

“What has he to do with it?”

“I owe him.”

Richard doesn’t look up, instead, paying close attention to his lamb in mint.

Will continues. “And you pay your debts?”

“I do.”

“Do you think this pays your debt to Richard?”

“Nope. I reckon I owe him a bit more than this.” NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

Will pulls a document wallet from his briefcase. “So, Charlotte, about Blessingmoors, I have your file

here, taken from the records on the premises at the time it was closed down….”

She looks uneasy, shuffling in her chair. Michael’s hand snakes out, taking hers.

Will continues. “I have to say that it doesn’t look too good. It says here that you were in trouble

numerous times for all kinds of petty crimes…. shoplifting.”

“I’m not a thief.”

“That’s not what it says here.” Will waves the file he is holding.

“It’s still not true. How can I have been a shoplifter when they never let us out?”

“So, you’ve never stolen anything from a shop?” Will raises an eyebrow, looking sceptical.

“Well, yes, I did, but it was when I was trying to run. I was a kid. I had no money. I had to eat…”

He says nothing, simply nodding as he writes a note in the margin.

“Drugs….”

“I’ve never touched drugs.”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”

He leans forward. “It is known Charlotte, already, that Blessingmoors was rife with drugs. No-one’s

going to hold it against you.”

“It hardly matters. Yes, they were there. And no, I never used them.”

He sighs, then scribbles in the margin.

“Assault on a warden? On several occasions?”

“Um, yes, that bit is true.” She hangs her head, looking shamefaced.

“What were the circumstances?”

“Sometimes they were trying to… you know. Other times, it…. just kind of burst out of me.”

“When you say, ‘You know’…. you are implying sexual assault?”

“Um, yes. But I always fought back, and…. I didn’t look like much then. It always ended up with one of

the other girls.… or boys.… getting it instead. They’d just lock me up for a couple of weeks.”

“I also have it here, that you were reported earlier this year for assaulting a customer in ‘Francesca’s’

tea rooms in the City? Although the charges were later dropped….”

“Yes, that did happen, but….”

Richard interrupts. “On that occasion, Will, I know personally of the circumstances. Two drunken louts

were trying to…press their attentions on Charlotte and my wife. Charlotte put up a spirited defence on

Elizabeth’s behalf.”

Will says nothing, but pencils in another note.

“Your school records have you listed as disruptive, and a bad influence…”

Now my Master interrupts. “But Charlotte loved school. She’s told us about it herself…”

“Er, that was the school when I was with my foster family. Yes, it was great there. The school at

Blessingmoors, no, I didn’t do very well.”

“Why not?” asks Richard.

“Um, bored really. They had no books to speak of, and never tried to teach us anything beyond basic

reading and writing. I’d got all that by the time I was six or seven, so after that they were just trying to

make me sit in a classroom, staring into space all day.”

Again, Will writes a note. “And the last thing I need to ask you about Charlotte, is that according to our

records, you now co-habit with two men, Mr James Alexanders and Mr Michael Summerford?”

She flushes. “I don’t see what that has to do with anyone else?”

Will sighs. “The point Charlotte is that I am trying to establish if you are a credible witness.”

“Sorry?”

“If we take your testimony and it leads to anything, we will have to go through the courts. The people

we are dealing have a great deal of money from their…. trade… and can afford the best of legal

representation. If you have the kind of character that a lawyer can simply discredit in the eyes of a jury,

then we are wasting our time, and I might as well not put you through a lot of pain.”

There is violence in her eyes at his words, but her voice is level.

“And you think I am a non-credible witness?”

“I’m not sure. If you can eyeball a solicitor and say that you only stole because you were a child, and

you were hungry. Or that your personal arrangements are none of his damn business, then you should

be okay. Do you think you can do that, or would you be intimidated?”

“If I have to, yes, I could do it…. Mr Stanton?”

“Yes?”

“Is there anything else in that folder?”

He glances at it. “Like what?”

“Anything earlier?”

He stares at her for a minute. “Yes, there is. You would like to see it?”

She whispers, her eyes big. “Yes.”

He pushes the file to her, sliding it across the table. “Here, take a look through it while I talk to Richard

here.”

She picks up the file, Michael’s eyes following her all the time.

*****

CHARLOTTE

I look through old papers, riffling through, seeing snatches of words, phrases…’Ward of the court’….’,

…taken into care….’, ‘…single parent deemed unfit…’

….and stapled to the paper, an old photograph, tiny, curled up at the corners and badly creased.

A woman looks out at me; young, pale-skinned and red-haired. Her eyes are badly shadowed. She

looks ill. On the back, a name, “Michelle Conners.”

*****

ELIZABETH

After a few minutes of talking quietly with Richard, Will turns back to Charlotte.

“Charlotte… Miss Conners?

She holds a small, very dog-eared photo in her hand, her eyes glossy. “Yes, Mr Stanton? And it’s okay.

It’s ‘Charlotte’.” Her former antagonism has vanished.

Will hesitates, looking at the photo in her hand. “Thank you, Charlotte. And it’s ‘Will’.”

She nods, smiling. He continues. “Charlotte. I can’t give you that file, but there’s no reason I can’t have

it scanned and copied for you, including the photo, if you would like?”

She sucks on her lips, her voice small. “Yes. Please.”

“Do feel able to talk some more?”

She nods. I notice Richard nodding, discreetly, to Ross, a quiet gesture telling him to fill Charlotte’s

wine glass. Michael’s hand, I notice, is back, holding hers.

James said that he’s her Rock….

Will speaks. “Charlotte. You have mentioned that sometimes, the children you knew at Blessingmoors

would simply disappear, taken away. Can you tell me any more about that?”

“All I really know is that at about fourteen or fifteen, we just didn’t see them anymore. We were told that

the older ones were moved on, to another home, for seniors, but we never ever heard back from any of

them.”

“None of them?”

She shrugs. “Not that I ever saw.”

“So, for your purposes, the older teenagers simply vanished?”

She nods, then stares at the ground.

“What about the younger ones? Did they ever disappear?”

“Sometimes, usually if they’d been beaten hard. We’d be told they were taken from the Infirmary to a

hospital, but sometimes, they didn’t come back.”

James interrupts. “You told me Charlotte, that you were in the Infirmary on one occasion?”

“Yes, I’d run away, again. I was always caught sooner or later, and the Police would bring me back….”

She stares at Will for a moment, who blushes and looks down. “…. We were always beaten for running

away. That time, yes, I ended up in the Infirmary. They told the Social Worker I’d been drinking and

taken a fall down the stairs.…”

“Did children ever disappear from the Infirmary itself?”

“Well, the kids would go in there sometimes, and we wouldn’t see them again, if that’s what you mean.”

“And you have no idea where they went?”

Charlotte is silent, staring down. Her breathing is quickening, her face pale. At first, I think we have lost

her, but then, her words visibly being forced out….

“You know there were cellars there, right?”

“Yes, we know about the cellars. The whole premises were, of course, searched at the time, before it

was demolished.”

Richard interrupts. “When we took the building down last year, the cellars were filled in and covered

over, as part of the rebuilding program, both of them.”

Charlotte looks up. “Both of them?”

“Yes, both of them.”

“Richard, there were three cellars in that place….”