Nula wrote: Innocent visits? My arse. Once she told me, it was obvious. You’d have to be a fucking fool not to see it, not when you knew what was really going on. Jill was shit-scared of him. He fucking raped her, the dirty bastard. Didn’t he ever get enough, with those bloody parties, with me? Of all the low tricks, to do that to his own best friend . . .

Shaking suddenly, feeling a stony gut-deep rage take hold of her, Belle stared at the words for a long, long time. Then she snatched up the journal and went out the door, Tank dogging her heels.

Jack was up the ladder hammering copper nails into the barn roof’s tiles, one of the others footing the ladder for him.

‘Jack?’ she called out.

He finished hammering and came down, staring at her face. ‘You look like you seen a ghost,’ he said.

She handed him the journal. Her hands were trembling.

‘What?’ Jack’s eyes were fixed on her face.

‘Charlie Stone raped my mum,’ said Belle, and started to cry.

Jack pulled her into his arms and held her.

151

When Belle went to see how Milly was doing, she found that Milly wasn’t upstairs in the bedroom any more. She was sitting downstairs in the tiny lounge of the London house, and to Belle’s intense relief she looked better. Still skinny and listless, but her colour was improved and she wasn’t shaking or swearing or demanding a hit. She was sitting beside an electric fire, the bars glowing red, holding her hands out to its warmth. When she saw Belle come in with Stevie, she didn’t stand up. Belle went to the armchair opposite Milly’s own and sat down. Stevie stood at the door.

‘How are you?’ she asked cautiously.

‘I feel like shit,’ said Milly, with a thin smile.

‘You will do. For a while.’ For a long while, Belle thought; maybe always. Crack was vicious and wouldn’t loosen its grip once it had you.

‘Stevie said you wanted to talk.’

‘Yeah.’ Milly’s eyes went to Stevie. ‘If we can have a moment alone . . . ?’

Stevie looked at Belle. She nodded. He stepped outside the door, closed it behind him.

‘So?’ said Belle.

Milly was silent, staring at the glowing fake coal of the fire.

‘Mills?’ she prompted.

Milly stared at Belle’s face. ‘You know what? I thought I was having a bad trip last time I saw you. God, Belle, what happened to your face?’

Belle gave a thin smile, feeling the scar tissue on her left side pull as she did so. ‘Had a run-in with Harlan. And some caimans.’

‘Jesus!’ Milly’s eyes were wide and horrified. ‘Where is he? Do you know?’

Belle knew all right. Jack’s mates were watching Harlan every second now, recording his phone messages, overseeing every move he made.