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.
When they’d finished talking, he’d offered her a grand, pulling a bundle of fifty-pound notes out of his trouser pocket, but for some reason she hadn’t been able to take it and had walked away, annoyed at herself, but also intrigued that for the first time in her life she felt something other than indifference.
The next night he’d picked her up again, this time spending the evening sitting in his car talking and eating chips. When he’d dropped her off back at the bedsit she shared with one of the other street girls he’d again offered her money, but again she’d refused.
The following evening she’d half expected to see him again and had found herself surprisingly disappointed when she hadn’t seen his car drive slowly down the road. Trying to put him out of her head she’d turned two tricks and had been on her knees in the car park of Brewer Street, about to give a blow job to a South American punter, when the punter had been thrown across the bonnet of the nearby car with his trousers round his ankles and his penis standing to attention.
At first Bunny had thought they were being mugged, but when she’d turned around she’d seen Del, his face chiselled in fury, his fists battering the teeth out of the terrified man.
She and Del had spent that night together and it had also been that night that Star had been conceived. They’d been together ever since. Finding out she was pregnant had frightened the life out of Bunny. She’d never planned on having children; she was too worried about bringing an innocent child into the world, but mainly unsure if she could give a child a better start in life than she’d had.
She hadn’t told Del, he’d guessed – or rather he’d looked in her bag and found the leaflets on abortion. Even though she was a hooker, he’d ranted and raved, jealous and hurt she’d been with someone else, not understanding she was pregnant with his baby. When she’d told him it was his, instead of him insisting she get rid of it, to her amazement, he’d begged her to keep the baby. And she’d liked the feeling; the feeling of someone wanting her, someone seeing her as more than just a fuck in the alleyway. But mostly she’d liked the feeling of him believing in her. Believing she could love and care for a child.
During her pregnancy she’d allowed him to look after her, letting him rent the flat in Soho and treat her like she’d never been treated in her life, but the minute Star had been born, she’d gone back to work, albeit in the flat.
Del had been furious. Ignoring her one minute, coming round to smash up the place in a jealous rage the next, begging her to stop work. Her heart had gone out to him, but no matter how much she’d wanted to make him happy, she couldn’t do the one thing he wanted her to – give up work – because Bunny knew giving up work would’ve meant letting her nemesis come into her life; her nemesis being trust.
One day she’d got fed up after he’d yet again barged into the flat, throwing out the punter she’d been with. They’d had a row. Him screaming at her and she at him. It was then she’d decided to turn the tables. ‘Okay Del. I’ll do it. I’ll give up bleedin’ work if that’s what you want, but on one condition.’
‘Anything darling; name it.’
‘Leave Edith and tell her about Star.’
His face had drained of colour and it was then Bunny had known she’d been right not to trust him. Del would never leave Edith, no matter how much he loved her and Star, and she would never trust him, no matter how much she loved him and wanted to have a life like she read about in books. So they’d come to an unspoken agreement that no matter how much they didn’t like the situation, that was the way it had to be.
Of course, Del still got jealous and he still made noises asking her to give up work, but there’d been a shift in balance. Del now knew what the condition had to be and, as Bunny knew he’d never agree to it, she felt safe in the knowledge that her having to trust someone would never be put to the test.
‘So are you all packed then, Bun?’
‘No, I ain’t even got me suntan cream sorted out. Maybe you should go on your own; I’ll come with you another time.’
‘You ain’t going to get out of it that easily.’
Bunny’s tension came back in her body and a frown creased her forehead. ‘What about Star? I don’t want to leave her.’
‘She’ll be fine with