‘Henry has brought you here for a reason. I can’t stop that.’
The old man moaned, but John ignored it. He had learned to do that.
John knelt down to her level. ‘Just be patient, Donia. It will be all right.’
‘I haven’t done anything wrong to you,’ she said. ‘You can’t let them keep me. I’m scared. Let me go.’
John shook his head. ‘I can’t do that. I have to wait for Henry.’
There were footsteps behind him, and when he looked round, it was Gemma and Lucy.
‘Have you taken a fancy to her, John?’ Lucy said, laughing.
‘No, no,’ he said, looking at Gemma, flustered, suddenly embarrassed, standing up straight. ‘It’s not like that.’
Lucy went towards Donia and stroked her hair. ‘Why not? She’s a pretty girl.’
Donia pulled her head away, but Lucy grabbed her hair more tightly, making Donia cry out in pain.
‘He’s saving himself for you,’ Lucy said to Gemma, mocking him. ‘Isn’t that right, John?’
He didn’t answer. Instead, he just blushed and looked down.
Lucy gripped the collar of Donia’s jumper and pulled it back, making Donia’s chest jut out, Donia gasping.
‘She is very pretty though, John, don’t you think?’ Lucy said, and reached down with her other hand and pulled up the bottom of Donia’s jumper, exposing her stomach and her bra.
‘Do you like her now, John?’ Lucy said, her voice softer now, but it was pretence, because she was enjoying herself too much, a malevolent gleam in her eyes.
John didn’t respond. Lucy had a close bond with Henry, and so he didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
‘Why don’t you party with her, like Henry is with Dawn?’ Lucy continued, pouting. ‘Gemma won’t mind.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ John said quietly, and then stopped himself from going any further. Don’t form bonds, that was the rule – because couples become apart from the group and start to look after themselves.
Lucy yanked Donia’s jumper again, exposing her chest, small beads of sweat running down to the lace of her bra. ‘Final decision?’ she said, laughing. ‘If you don’t, I might.’
There was a loud bang and they all jumped. As John looked round, he saw Arni there. He had hit the doorframe with his cane.
‘Leave her for now,’ he said.
Lucy let go of Donia’s jumper, and she slumped back towards the floor, her head hanging down.
‘If that’s how you want it?’ she said.
Arni nodded. ‘That’s how I want it.’
John followed Gemma and Lucy out of the room, not acknowledging Arni as they went past, who was staring at the captive girl.
As they went back into the hall, Arni didn’t shift his gaze away from Donia, and when he finally turned away, there was a smile on his face.
He was keeping Donia for himself.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Charlie had the phone to his chest. Donia couldn’t be his daughter. It didn’t make any sense. Then he thought of her age. Eighteen. He did the sums quickly. Nineteen years since she was conceived. She was from Leeds, where he went to university, nineteen years ago.
‘Charlie, what is it?’ It was Ted, but his voice seemed faint, as if he wasn’t really in the room with him.
Charlie’s mouth went dry. His fingers tingled with nerves. His daughter? But she is mixed race. Charlie was white.
Then a memory came back to him. A party. The last night of his second year. His farewell to exams for the summer, reckless living, sleeping in until lunchtime. He had to get a summer job, and so he was going the next day, heading for Bridlington, where a friend had fixed him up with some work. There was drink. Too much drink. And a local girl, but on the same course. Pretty, dark, her hair cut in a short afro. A room upstairs. She was naked. Charlie had thought about her sometimes, but he had forgotten her name. He remembered her body under him, her gasps, but had he ever known her name? They had taken a risk, but he’d heard nothing from her afterwards. He had forgotten about her, except when he was horny and alone, and he trawled through his memories for stimulation.
Then he remembered that Wilma hadn’t returned for her final year. People had talked about it, but it was soon forgotten in the whirl of exams and having a good time. And it turned out that all the time he was trying to be the hotshot lawyer, he had a daughter growing up in Leeds.
He put the phone back to his ear. ‘I didn’t know,’ he said, his voice quiet.
‘It doesn’t matter what you know,’ Wilma snapped. ‘This is about Donia. She is all I have, but Donia wanted to know about you, Charlie, naturally, and so I told her. That’s why she’s there, with you, to get to know you, and I didn’t want her to go, because I didn’t know how you’d react when you found out. I didn’t want Donia to be hurt emotionally, and now this?’
‘We’ll find her,’ Charlie said. ‘Just call the police. I’ll do the same,’ and then hung up.
He called Julie, his ex-girlfriend.
‘Charlie, are you going to come into the station?’ she said.
‘No, not yet,’ he said. ‘I need your help though.’
‘What is it?’
‘Amelia Diaz was killed last night, as you know. There was a work experience student. Donia Graham. I’ve had a call. The people who killed Amelia say that they have Donia, and they’ll kill her if I don’t hand over what they want.’
‘How do you know it’s not a prank?’
‘Because it’s not funny,’ he said. ‘She was with me. We were at her flat,’ and he gave her the address. ‘Then she had intruders. It’s genuine.’
‘So why are you calling me?’
‘I don’t think I can come in to the police just yet.’
‘Why not?’
He thought about that, and realised that it was for one reason; he was scared. ‘I just can’t, but you can pass this on.’
‘Who are these people?’
‘Just a bunch of kids really, but there are a couple of older ones. Black hair, black clothes. They’ve been hanging around the town centre the last few days. I think they killed Billy Privett and Amelia.’
Julie gasped. ‘Are you sure?’ When Charlie didn’t answer, she said, ‘Okay, I’ll do it, don’t worry.’
‘Thank you,’ Charlie said, and he gave her Donia’s home address. ‘Her mother will be calling,’ and then he hung up.
He put hands to his face. This couldn’t be happening. His mind raced through the last nineteen years. The career, his firm, nineteen years of girlfriends and drink. Just years of being an arsehole, and all the time he’d had a daughter. He thought of Donia. Beautiful, intelligent. His life had drifted along for nineteen years, and there was something there all along, a person who would have given it meaning.
‘Charlie?’
He opened his eyes. Ted was looking at him.
‘We need to find this group,’ Charlie said, and he headed for the door.