Taken Read online

  TAKEN

  Lisa Stone

  Copyright

  Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

  Copyright © Lisa Stone 2020

  Cover design by Caroline Young © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

  Cover photograph © Shutterstock.com

  Lisa Stone asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008378820

  Ebook Edition © July 2020 ISBN: 9780008378837

  Version: 2020-07-24

  Dedication

  A big thank-you to my readers for all your wonderful comments and reviews. They are much appreciated.

  Thank you to my editors, Kathryn and Holly, my literary agent, Andrew, and all the team at HarperCollins.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Suggested topics for reading-group discussion

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  Books by Lisa Stone

  About the Publisher

  ONE

  It was not a safe place for a young girl.

  Colin Weaver looked through the window of his third-floor flat at the children’s play area below. She was there, as she was most nights after school. Leila Smith, eight years old, alone and vulnerable. He had a good view from up here, apart from the dirt on the outside of the glass, which he couldn’t clean. Tenants could no longer open their windows wide enough to clean the outside since the council had fitted cable restrictors after a child had fallen from the seventh floor and died.

  Sad, indeed, but shouldn’t the parents have been keeping watch on their child?

  That was the problem with parents today, Colin thought, not for the first time, as he watched Leila gently rocking on the swing. Too many absent fathers and self-centred mothers oblivious to the needs of their children. Not like his mother, he reflected grimly. She’d wanted to know exactly where he was and what he was doing every minute of the day, until he couldn’t stand it any longer and had left ten years ago, aged thirty-eight.

  As he watched Leila the sun began to set behind the block of high-rise flats, its shadow falling across the play area and casting another corridor of gloom. As if there wasn’t enough gloom here already: grey tower blocks and rooftops, cables strung between pylons, unemployment, and the steady rumble of the city line reminding residents that a better life lay a train ride away. Children used the play area on the Hawthorn Estate during daylight hours. It was a small oasis of fun, laughter and innocence in an otherwise bleak and depressing landscape. But once darkness fell it was a different matter and most children knew they had to return home straight away.

  Apart from Leila.

  She was there long after the other children had gone, because her mother didn’t give a damn.

  As Colin watched, the sun continued its descent until darkness fell. The only child left in the play area was Leila. Her mother, Kelsey Smith, had never told her she needed to be home so she was safe and warm. She didn’t care, and Colin knew it was doubtful she even noticed when her child was missing, since she was so often off her head on drink and drugs or entertaining clients. That was Kelsey. Nearly everyone on the estate knew about Kelsey and that she wasn’t fit to be a mother. If something happened to her child, it would be her fault.

  Leila was still gently rocking on the swing, her silhouette just visible in the small light coming from the lamplight, dimmed by the council to save electricity. Rocking herself was probably the only comfort the poor child had, for there’d be none at home, Colin thought bitterly. She was pretty, with dark hair and big round eyes, but those eyes had seen more than they should for a child her age, which gave her a hard, streetwise look. Colin found this very sad. Children should be innocent for as long as possible.

  Leila and her prostitute mother lived in the flat directly above Colin’s. He had to listen to their comings and goings, so he knew when they were in or out, when Kelsey was entertaining clients and when Leila was left home alone. He heard her crying and her mother losing her temper and shouting at her for not cleaning the flat, shopping or cooking. The child was only eight, for Christ’s sake! That bloody mother needed to be taught a lesson.

  To his shame, Colin had fancied Kelsey when she’d first moved in, before he’d found out what she was really like. Now he was disgusted with her and with himself for making such a gross error of judgement. The woman was all tits and tattoos, flashing her eyes with a come-on expression at every bloke she passed. It was probably her tactics that had fooled him at the start, he thought. He’d be the first to admit he was ignorant when it came to women, shy, having only his mother as an example. But then he’d come to his senses and realized what she was like and felt sorry for the child.

  What the social services were doing leaving Leila with her mother Colin had no idea. Her older kids, four in all, had been taken into care and then adopted years ago. Probably for the best, he thought. She’d told him this when she’d first moved in, and that she was being given another chance with Leila because she was clean – off booze, drugs and the game. That was laughable! It didn’t take much to see she was lying, and the situation c
ouldn’t be allowed to continue. Kelsey’s sister, Sharon, agreed. He’d seen her going into the flat and had stopped her and voiced his concerns. They’d agreed Leila needed help, and fast. But what to do for the best?

  Leaving the light off in his living room so he couldn’t be seen from outside, Colin kept watch on the play area. Leila continued to gently work the swing in the gloom as two teenage lads rode in on their mountain bikes. Aged about thirteen, they were known on the estate for selling drugs for their rich dealer. Kelsey bought her stuff from them. Colin knew that residents had largely given up on calling the police. It was a waste of time and created bad feelings, as the mothers of the boys lived on the estate too, as did most of their customers. If the police were called, the lads were usually tipped off and had long gone by the time they arrived, pedalling at speed down the alleyways that linked the estate, where the police car couldn’t go. He’d watched it happen from his window. It was a game to them, although the one having the biggest laugh would be the dealer who was making big money out of these runts.

  The lads took up their usual place in front of the row of sheds where the bins were kept, standing astride their bikes so they could clear off quickly if necessary. A man appeared from the shadows, hoodie up, money at the ready. The deal was done in seconds and he hurried off again. A minute later the next customer arrived and then the next, a steady procession of druggies desperate for their next fix. It was no place for a child, Colin thought again, his anger and concern growing. Most of the customers ignored Leila, but a few didn’t and she was forced to fend off their unwanted attention as best she could.

  Colin had seen enough. Grabbing his keys from the table and stuffing them into his pocket, he left the flat. It was time to act.

  TWO

  Kelsey heard the front door of the flat below slam shut. The walls, ceilings and floors were so thin you could almost hear someone having a shit. She guessed most of her neighbours could hear the goings-on in her flat, but what the hell. That was her business. In the small light coming from the hall Kelsey looked at the man lying next to her in bed, whose name she couldn’t remember, if she ever knew it. He was proving difficult to get rid of and had become angry and aggressive when she’d told him it was time to go.

  She’d managed to pacify him with more rough sex and thankfully he’d fallen asleep and was now flat on his back, snoring like a pig. But she still had the problem of getting rid of him. Just because they paid, some clients thought they could do what they wanted, which they could within reason – consenting adults and all that – but it didn’t mean they could stay for as long as they wanted. Once the job was done and their time was up, she couldn’t get rid of them fast enough. Some took liberties. A few guys just wanted to talk after having sex, which was a pain but manageable. But the big blokes – alpha males – could easily become abusive if they didn’t get their way. Too much testosterone, Kelsey thought. Fine for getting it up, but not so good for putting it away and going home. This one would need some help.

  Careful not to disturb him, Kelsey slipped quietly from the bed. He grunted and turned over but stayed asleep. He’d overrun his time by nearly an hour, so she was entitled to some overtime pay, she decided. Picking up his trousers from where he’d thrown them on the floor, she carefully slid out his wallet and removed two twenty-pound notes. There were three left so hopefully he wouldn’t notice two were missing until he was long gone. Added to the sixty pounds he’d already paid her, she now had a hundred quid, which was plenty to buy some more coke and something to eat. She was craving both. Starving, shivering, her head throbbed and she felt cold, exhausted and anxious, a sure sign she was withdrawing and needed another fix. The lads, Mike and Jason, would be in the play area dealing by now. She’d get some stuff and then buy fish and chips. But first she needed to get rid of the pig in her bed.

  After carefully returning his wallet to the pocket of his trousers, Kelsey pulled on her jeans and T-shirt and crept from the bedroom. She needed Leila’s help to send this one on his way. She didn’t want to risk another beating. Leila was good at getting rid of unwanted guests – she had perfected her act, and it hadn’t failed them yet. On cue from her mother, Leila would pull off her top and run screaming into the bedroom, pointing at the man and shouting that he’d raped her, closely followed by Kelsey, phone in hand, threatening to take a photo and expose him online as a paedophile. It was a hoot and it always worked. The guys couldn’t get out of the flat quick enough, and she and Leila had a laugh after. But where the hell was the child?

  ‘Leila? Are you here?’ Kelsey whispered in the hall.

  She hadn’t heard her come in, but that wasn’t surprising given the noise the pig had been making with his groaning and expletives. Funny what some guys cried out as they came. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing sometimes.

  Kelsey flicked on the light switch in Leila’s bedroom, but she wasn’t in there. Used clothes, discarded crisp and biscuit packets and general mess lay everywhere. Left where they had fallen. Like mother, like daughter, Kelsey thought, and opened the living-room door. Sometimes the kid fell asleep on the sofa watching television, but the television was off and she clearly wasn’t in here. Just more mess. Pizza boxes, fizzy-drink bottles and empty cans of beer – hers, not Leila’s. She supposed they’d have to make an effort and clear up before the social worker’s next visit, which must be due soon.

  It seemed Leila hadn’t come home yet, which, although not unusual, was a pain. The pig still had to be got rid of, and Kelsey was feeling increasingly unwell from the effects of drug withdrawal and no food. Cold, irritable and running out of patience, she decided it was time for plan B. Unplugging her phone from where it had been charging in the kitchen, she held it to her ear and then ran into her bedroom, flicking on the light switch as she entered.

  ‘Get up! Quick!’ she shouted, panic-stricken, shaking the pig awake. ‘You have to go! Now. My partner’s found out you’re here. He’s on his way with six of his mates! They’re armed with chainsaws and machetes. You don’t stand a chance!’

  Wide awake in an instant, he was straight out of bed and frantically struggling into his clothes. ‘How long have I got?’ he panted.

  ‘Five minutes max. Run for your life!’ Kelsey shouted. ‘Finish dressing as you go!’

  Trousers on, he grabbed his sweatshirt, socks and trainers and fled the room. Kelsey opened the front door and watched him go – running along the corridor and dressing as he went, then disappearing down the stairwell. Returning inside, she laughed as she crossed to the living-room window and looked down onto the estate. A few seconds later the pig appeared, jumped into his car and drove off.

  Now to find the kid and buy some coke, although not necessarily in that order.

  With the hundred pounds held tightly in her hand, Kelsey left the flat. The lift was on an upper floor so she used the stairs, which as usual stank of stale piss and disinfectant. It was cold even here and she realized she should have worn her jacket, but she wouldn’t be long. Reaching the exit, she half expected to find Leila hanging out with some of the older girls from the estate and sharing a smoke, but she couldn’t see her.

  ‘You seen Leila?’ she asked them.

  ‘Nah,’ came a reply.

  ‘Leila?’ she called as she headed towards the play area. ‘Leila? Can you hear me?’

  The kid was often hanging around the estate, although she knew she wasn’t supposed to because some nosy parker was sure to see her and phone the social services again. Worst of the bunch was that Mrs Goodman. ‘Gawping Goodman’ Kelsey had nicknamed her, because she was always watching – gawping. She lived in a ground-floor maisonette on the other side of the play area and didn’t miss a thing. She took pride in taking in local kids, giving them a meal, then phoning social services and reporting their parents for neglect. Bitch. Leila had been there plenty of times, although Kelsey wished she hadn’t.

  ‘Leila? Where are you?’ Kelsey called. There was no reply, so she had to
assume she’d wandered off the estate, which Kelsey had told her not to do. She’d come back when she was ready. The little madam was strong-willed, but she could take care of herself. It briefly crossed Kelsey’s mind to knock on Goodman’s door to see if Leila was there, but she decided equally quickly she wouldn’t give the old cow the satisfaction of another lecture and phoning social services. Four kids taken from her was enough. She needed to keep Leila; she was all she had.

  Kelsey continued to where Jason and Mike stood laughing and sharing a joint with some other lads.

  ‘Hello, boys,’ she said, joining them. ‘What have you got for me tonight?’

  ‘How about a nice big cock to suck?’ Kevin Bates, one of the older lads and a local thug, quipped. The others guffawed.

  ‘Well, that rules you out,’ Kelsey returned, equally sharply. ‘I hear you were at the back of the queue when they gave out cocks and brains.’

  The others laughed again.

  ‘Fuck you,’ Bates snapped, immediately angry.

  ‘Hey, Kev,’ one of the other lads said, ‘yours must be the only cock in Coleshaw she hasn’t sucked.’

  ‘Very funny,’ Kelsey replied, and concentrated on Jason who was still grinning. ‘How much a gram?’

  ‘Forty-five, same as last night,’ he said. ‘It’s good stuff.’

  ‘It better be at that price. Give me two grams.’

  Kelsey handed over ninety pounds, turned and was about to walk away when Kevin Bates blocked her path.

  ‘You’re too old for me,’ he snarled in her face, ‘but that daughter of yours …’

  He didn’t get any further. Kelsey slapped his face hard. She heard the sound of her palm on his cheek, felt the sting of flesh on flesh, and knew straight away she shouldn’t have done that. But she was withdrawing fast – her body ached and she wasn’t thinking straight.

  The others had fallen silent. Bates was staring at her, eyes cold and hard. ‘You’ll be sorry you did that, slag,’ he snarled, spitting in her face, and pushed her.

  Kelsey staggered, regained her balance and, stepping around him, hurried back towards her flat, praying he would just let it go. Kevin Bates was a nasty piece of work, as were his family. No one crossed them, not if they knew what was good for them. The silence behind her erupted into laughter and one of the lads shouted, ‘How much for a mother-and-daughter double act?’