Melissa hated silence – hated her own thoughts – so they had talked and talked. She had asked him questions about the case, about Angel, and he’d answered as best he could and in return he’d asked her questions about herself. She told him she’d fled an alcoholic mother in Manchester but had left her younger brother behind. She often wondered what had become of him and clearly felt guilty for deserting him. She had got herself into endless trouble as she’d freewheeled south, but in spite of everything she had survived. The booze and drugs hadn’t killed her and neither had the job.
The darkness of the night had cocooned them, making Melissa feel anonymous and out of harm’s way. But as the sun rose and another day dawned, her anxiety began to grow. She paced the house, peering through the curtains, as if expecting trouble.
‘Shouldn’t there be someone out back as well?’ she asked.
‘It’s all right, Melissa. You’re safe.’
‘If Anton finds out what I’ve done. Or Lyra -’
‘They’ll only find out once they’re in the dock and facing a stretch. Nobody knows you’re here, nobody can touch you.’
Melissa shrugged as if she only half believed him.
‘All you’ve got to think about is what you do next. Once it’s all done with.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘I mean… you don’t have to go back to the streets. There are programmes that can help you get out. Addiction treatment, counselling, training…’
‘You trying to save me, Tony?’ she replied, teasing.
Tony felt himself blushing.
‘No… well, kind of. I know you’ve been through a lot, but this could be the break you need. You’ve done something strong, something good, you shouldn’t waste this opportunity.’
‘You sound just like my dad used to.’
‘Well, he was right. You’re better than this.’
‘You really don’t know anything, do you, Tony?’ she replied, though her tone was not unkind. ‘You ever worked vice?’
Tony shook his head.
‘Thought not,’ Melissa continued. ‘If you had, then you wouldn’t be bothering.’
‘I hope I would.’
‘You’d be one in a million,’ Melissa replied, laughing bitterly. ‘Do you know what girls like us do? What we’ve been through to end up like this?’
‘No, but I can im-’
‘We’ve lied and cheated and stolen. We’ve been beaten up, spat on, raped. We’ve had knives held to our throats, been choked half to death. We’ve done heroin, crack, uppers, downers, booze. We’ve not changed for a week, puked in our sleep. And then we’ve got up and done it all again.’
She let her words hang in the air, then carried on:
