It was only when she was eight – and her mother had beaten her unconscious – that Mandy had finally been taken into care; a broken arm and fractured skull had been too much for her parents to explain away. A new social worker, Janice Carter – all love beads and afghans and still so new to the job she wasn’t intimidated by the Wrights’ pedigree – had removed her from them immediately. Mandy had been so grateful; for the first time in her life she had slept in a clean bed, had eaten three square meals a day, and attended school regularly. She had felt safe for the first time in her young life.

Over the years she had been reunited with her mother and father many times, but it had never been a success for any of them. Her mum and dad were so self-obsessed, and they had only fought for her for appearances’ sake and then, when they got her, all they saw was their biggest failure. They knew their daughter saw them for what they were, not as the people they tried so desperately to portray.

Both sets of grandparents had washed their hands of their offspring long before she had arrived on the scene and, on the few occasions she had met them, they had not shown any real interest in her. Going into care had been her salvation; as bad as it was, it had at least afforded her a degree of security, something she had never before experienced in her young life.

She had eventually left the care system at sixteen, and immediately fallen for a young man who lived in the same bed and breakfast. He had been the product of the care system himself; he had given her a child and promptly disappeared. Amanda hadn’t really expected anything else, if she was honest; everyone in her life had let her down up till then. But she had kept her little boy, and she loved him with a passion. She had been determined that she would give him the love that she had never had, and that he would never feel unwanted or inadequate.

She had ended up stripping, because she knew she had a good figure, and friends had introduced her to the world of Soho. Soho was a strange place; a girl could disappear there, and no one judged you too harshly. It was a world built on transients – people arrived, some stayed but most left. It was ideal for Amanda. All she had were her looks, and good looks and youth went a long way.