Dark Spaces

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Authors: Helen Black

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Dark Spaces
Lilly Valentine [5]
Black, Helen
Constable Robinson (2013)
Lilly Valentine tries to help a damaged teenager - but has she been horrifically abused, or is she lying to save her own skin?
Having
recently split up from the father of her baby, Lilly is not in a happy
place, matters being complicated further by the arrival of her
ex-husband, needing a sofa to crash out on having been thrown out by his
girlfriend.
In the midst of all this Lilly is asked by a child
psychologist if she will help one of her patients: a girl currently
sectioned having stolen a car while extremely drunk. While Lilly visits
her she is introduced to Chloe, another unstable teenager who slips
Lilly a note saying: 'Help us'.
And then Lilly's client is killed
and Chloe accused of her murder. Her case is not helped by the fact
that the words 'Help us' have been carved on the dead girl's stomach...

 

 

Helen Black
grew up in Pontefract, West Yorkshire. At eighteen she went to Hull University and left three years later with a tattoo on her shoulder and a law degree. She became a lawyer in Peckham and soon had a loyal following of teenagers needing legal advice and bus fares. She ended up working in Luton, working predominantly for children going through the care system. Helen is married to a long-suffering lawyer and is the mother of young twins.

 

 

Also by Helen Black

 

Damaged Goods
A Place of Safety
Dishonour
Blood Rush
Twenty Twelve

DARK
SPACES
 

HELEN BLACK

 

 

 

 

 

 

Constable & Robinson Ltd
55–56 Russell Square
London WC1B 4HP
www.constablerobinson.com

 

First published in the UK by C&R Crime,
an imprint of Constable & Robinson Ltd., 2013

 

Copyright © Helen Black, 2013

 

The right of Helen Black to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988

 

All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in
Publication data is available from the British Library

 

ISBN: 978-1-84901-474-8 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-47210-460-1 (ebook)

 

Printed and bound in the EU

 

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

 

Cover by
JoeRoberts.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

BBC News. Tuesday 11 June 2004. 18.45 GMT ‘Cruel and Despicable’

A man and two women have been convicted of abusing and assaulting seven children in their care.

George Talbot, 47, his wife Sinead Talbot, 35, and her sister Mary-Ann Yates, 34, were guilty of acts so cruel and despicable they would stay with him forever, said Judge Patrick Wilkes at Luton Crown Court this morning.

Members of the jury wept openly as all three defendants were found guilty of abuse towards the children aged between eight months and sixteen years.

George Talbot, the court heard, had routinely starved all the victims, often forcing them to beg or fight one another for morsels of food. One child told the police that the defendant would invite other adults to come to the house and watch. Sometimes the children would be filmed.

The victims were almost never allowed to leave the house and the youngest three had never been outside, even into the garden.

Doctors confirmed that all the children had been physically and sexually assaulted.

A senior detective described the house in Luton as ‘the most evil place’ he had ever encountered.

In court, Judge Wilkes said, ‘These offences are some of the worst to have come before me.’

The three defendants were between them convicted of cruelty, administering noxious substances, unlawful wounding, sexual assault and grievous bodily harm.

His Honour Judge Wilkes said there would be no option but to sentence them to substantial prison sentences and ordered reports to be prepared.

In the meantime the victims have been placed into the care of the Local Authority.

‘My only hope,’ said the judge, ‘is that these children can now find the families they truly deserve.’

Chapter One
 

‘How is your health, Miss Valentine?’

Dr Kendrick leaned on his desk and gave a small smile that didn’t reveal his teeth.

‘Me? Fit as a fiddle,’ Lilly replied. ‘I mean the veins on the back of my legs look like a relief map of Africa and if I sneeze twice in a row I need a clean pair of knickers, but you know, not bad for my age.’

Dr Kendrick laughed politely. ‘And your mental health? Any issues there?’

‘Depends who you ask,’ Lilly said. ‘I think my ex-husband might say I was away with the fairies.’

Kendrick nodded and made a slow deliberate note on his A4 pad. ‘What about Alice’s father? Health-wise I mean.’

‘Oh my ex-husband isn’t Alice’s father,’ said Lilly. ‘That’s the ex-boyfriend.’

Kendrick continued making notes.

‘Which makes it sound much worse than it is.’ Lilly gulped. ‘Much more exciting than real life.’

‘It’s not my business, Miss Valentine.’

‘All the same, I wouldn’t want you to think I had a new man every night of the week.’ She was gabbling now. ‘Chance would be a fine thing, but a wild night chez nous consists of a DVD of
Downtown Abbey
and a family bag of Maltesers—’

Kendrick interrupted with a soft cough. ‘And the health of Alice’s father?’

‘Fine,’ Lilly squeaked.

While Kendrick went back to his pad, Lilly puffed out her cheeks and scanned the artwork behind him. There was a black and white photograph of a clown, a thick smile painted around a thin frown.

‘Why are you asking me all this, Doctor?’ she said. ‘I came to discuss Alice.’

She gestured to the car seat at her feet, and the baby in it, sucking a pink fist.

Kendrick put down his pen. ‘With babies as young as Alice it’s very difficult to make a diagnosis.’

‘Maybe there’s nothing to diagnose,’ said Lilly.

‘Indeed,’ said Kendrick. ‘Her hearing and sight tests came back perfectly fine.’

‘There you go then.’

Dr Kendrick managed another smile, but again there was no sign of his teeth. ‘And yet your health visitor and GP both confirmed that she failed to meet any of her six-month milestones.’

Lilly shrugged. Tick-box culture pissed her off. Some kids developed later than others. It had always been that way. If Elsa, Lilly’s mother, were here now she’d regale this form-filling moron with tales of Candy Cooper from number seven who didn’t say a word until she was four.

‘And from that moment on they couldn’t bloody shut her up. Drove her father to drink.’

Then there was Christopher Quigley who everyone said was backward, but it didn’t stop him making a fortune selling knickers on the market did it?

‘Listen, Doc,’ said Lilly. ‘I know you have to do this. A referral’s been made and you’ve got your job to do. I’m a solicitor, so I know how all this works, but I really don’t think there’s anything wrong with my little girl.’

She scooped Alice out of her car seat and kissed the top of her head. As she ran her chin through the messy curls she could smell sugar and flowers and sky.

‘You’re probably right,’ said Kendrick. ‘A mother’s instinct usually is, but as you correctly pointed out, I must do my job.’ He scribbled something on a second pad and tore off the page. ‘Let’s meet again in one month and in the meantime, blood tests.’

‘Blood tests?’

Kendrick waved his hand. ‘A pinprick, nothing more.’

Lilly threw back her head, opened her mouth wide and let out a bark of laughter.

‘This’ll be interesting.’

 

Alice’s screams rang through the hospital and she batted away the nurse brandishing a needle. In different circumstances Lilly would have been impressed by her daughter’s force of will. In her working life she’d met every kind of nutter wailing for their freedom, and every kind of junkie begging for a fix, but no one could scream as loud as Alice.

‘I blame the parents.’

Lilly spun on her heels, a retort at the ready for the interfering cow behind her. She was sick to the back teeth of strangers tutting at her in supermarket checkout queues. If they thought they could do better with Alice, they could be Lilly’s bloody guest.

When she saw who had spoken, the sharpness fell from her tongue. ‘Sheba!’

Lilly’s friend gave a deep curtsey. Or as deep as a woman who looked like she was about to give birth any second could manage. Sheba and Lilly both opened their mouths to speak but another one of Alice’s determined screeches pierced the air.

‘What’s wrong with the ankle biter?’ asked Sheba. ‘I think we can safely assume it’s not her lungs.’

‘She failed her six-month check-up. Didn’t meet her milestones.’ Lilly made quotation marks with her fingers around the last word.

Alice screamed again with the melodrama any B-movie actress would be proud of.

‘Hey you.’ Sheba held up a finger at Alice. ‘Shush.’

The baby seemed entranced by the perfectly rounded scarlet nail and her jaw slackened. Peace fell.

‘Thank you,’ said Sheba and turned to Lilly. ‘So she failed to reach her milestones? Which ones?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Lilly.

‘Supporting herself? Motor skills?’

‘Like I said, I’m not sure.’ Sheba was lovely but doctors were all the same. Even those who specialized in matters of the mind. ‘What about you? What are you here for?’

Sheba ran a hand over her bump. ‘I am now officially overdue and whilst I agree that it’s never fashionable to be early, keeping people waiting is simply poor manners.’

‘They say raspberry leaf tea brings on labour,’ said Lilly.

‘I’ve tried it.’ Sheba wrinkled her nose. ‘Tastes like shit.’

‘And sex,’ said Lilly. ‘That can get things moving.’

Sheba gave a gritty chuckle. If giving up vodka tonic, espresso and Marlboro lights had been good for her unborn baby, it had had no effect on her vocal cords. Even at nine months pregnant she was like the naughtiest girl in the dorm. Lilly sighed. When she’d been carrying Alice her feet had swollen to three times their size and she’d spent most of her days chugging on a bottle of Gaviscon. Sheba, as stylish and saucy as ever, looked as though she might just throw on some black lace undies and enjoy the challenge. Her partner, whoever he was, probably considered himself the luckiest man alive.

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