Discarded by M. Hunter (the reading list .txt) 📕

the investigation? The reason I recognise Tomlinson is that Dainton has a photograph hanging on his wall from when the commissioner presented him with a bravery commendation. I’m not implying Dainton wouldn’t take our questions seriously, but I’d rather we secure something more concrete before speaking to him.’

‘We can’t do this on our own, Jack, but if he is involved, how do we know who we can trust?’

‘I know, I know,’ he concedes, the blood only now just starting to return to his face. ‘I’m not suggesting we go it alone. There is someone I think we should speak to. Someone I trust implicitly with this kind of information. Come on, if we leave now, we should be there within the hour.’

Chapter Thirty-Seven Then

Newbury, Berkshire

‘So, what sorts of things are you into?’ the old man asked, as he gently rocked Joanna on his knee. There was something familiar about the way he spoke, but based on a voice she’d heard on one of her mum’s soap operas. Was it Emmerdale or Coronation Street? Certainly not local to her.

His thick white beard brushed against the top of her arm as he jostled her up and down much as her own grandfather had done with her when she was a toddler. Was this man someone’s grandfather as well? The end of the cigar glowed orange with every intake, and although he seemed to be doing his best to blow the smoke away from her, the room was filling quickly with smoke and it was making her eyes water and throat burn.

She looked across the room where Precious was smiling and laughing with the man she was with, occasionally brushing his cheek with her hand or thumb in an affectionate way she’d seen her parents do when they thought she wasn’t looking. At least he looked more normal. Less old and rugged than the man who was staring at Joanna, awaiting her answer. Precious glanced over and nodded encouragingly again, urging Joanna just to speak to him.

A bit of a chat counts for nothing, Precious had said.

‘Do you like ponies?’ he asked when she still hadn’t responded. ‘I keep horses at my stables. Such beautiful creatures, don’t you think?’

‘I-I-I like ponies,’ Joanna replied, turning in to face him, mirroring Precious’s posture and stroking his beard. It was like a wiry old brush her dad used to clean the griddle of the barbeque and she quickly withdrew her hand.

‘You’re very beautiful too,’ he said next, leaning closer so that only she could hear.

She didn’t know how to respond. ‘Thank you,’ she settled for.

‘What’s your name, lovely?’

‘J-Jo,’ she began, before stopping herself. ‘Kylie. My name’s Kylie.’

‘That’s a beautiful name. You look like a Kylie. Pretty little Kylie. Like the pop star. Do you want to know my name?’

She didn’t care what his name was but nodded as enthusiastically as she could muster.

‘I’m Bill. That’s what my friends call me. You can call me Bill too, because we’re friends now, aren’t we?’

She looked back to Precious who was talking non-stop while her beguiled client listened, eyes wide and mouth shut. The room was uncomfortably warm, the wood crackling in the fireplace as it burned bright and hot.

‘If you’d like, you could come and ride one of the horses at my stables. Would you like that, Kylie?’

Her mum had taken her and her sister to the beach to ride the donkeys there sometimes, and she’d always quite enjoyed it, but as much as she liked the idea of riding a horse, she didn’t yet trust Bill.

‘That’s what friends do,’ he continued. ‘We look after our friends and do nice things for them. Would you like to come and visit my stables? They’re not too far from here.’

A thought fired in the back of her head: if he was offering her a way out of this place, and could get her away from Grey and Mr Brown, wasn’t that a chance worth taking? She didn’t have her pot of savings, but if he could take her away she might be able to get a message to Precious, who could join them later and bring the money with her. If they could get away from Mr Brown and Grey, Joanna was certain they’d be able to start afresh on their own. Precious had certainly proved herself resourceful.

‘Can we go now?’ Joanna asked him.

‘Now? Oh no, it’s a bit late, sweetheart. No, not tonight, but if we are friends then I can definitely have a word with Mr Brown and see if you could come and stay at my farm for a bit. Would you like that? You’d be able to go riding every day, and it would just be the two of us. We could get to know each other better.’

In that moment, she saw through his lies, but nodded in compliance. He would tell her anything right now if it kept her from objecting to whatever he had on his mind. He rested a heavy, warm hand on her leg, and continued to bounce her jovially. Why were none of the other girls and boys complaining about this situation? She knew enough about the world to understand that old men didn’t date or marry children. Precious had alluded to what would happen when the clients moved to different rooms, but had been adamant that she would keep Joanna safe. She didn’t feel safe in this moment and desperately wanted to be anywhere but here.

A gong sounding from somewhere behind her made Joanna turn round. Mr Brown had returned to the room and was addressing his guests in an overly theatrical manner. ‘Gentlemen, it is time for you to make your choices and to retire to more comfortable surroundings. Everything you have asked for has been provided in your allotted room and each has been soundproofed. If you require anything further, you are only to sound the bell in the room and we will accommodate as best we can.’

Excited chatter and murmuring grew across the