Discarded M. Hunter (the snowy day read aloud TXT) 📖

luxury. Beside the chaise-longue – which wasn’t dissimilar to one in her grandma’s house – stood a small drinks trolley with maybe a dozen flutes half-filled with a straw-coloured liquid.

Precious immediately made her way to the trolley, lifted two flutes, and passed one to Joanna. ‘Drink this,’ she instructed, downing hers in one.

Joanna copied her, grimacing at the bite of the bubbles on the back of her throat. It was different to the sweet wines Precious usually brought back with her from the shopping trips she would undertake while Joanna was at the studio with Grey.

‘I need you to listen very carefully,’ Precious said, taking the flute from Joanna’s grip and replacing it with a fresh glass. ‘There will be others brought in here with us soon but you and me need to stick together. When everyone’s arrived, we’ll be taken in to meet Mr Brown’s guests. As I told you before, they’ll be told that you’re off-limits for tonight, but that doesn’t mean they won’t want to speak to you. That’s fine. A bit of a chat counts for nothing. Think about it like you’re speaking to a distant relative – an uncle or a grandfather – yeah?’ She sighed. ‘Then after a few minutes of talking, some of the others will go off with the guests, leaving us behind. I have an agreement with Grey that I’m off-limits tonight too, so I can keep an eye on you. Okay? So, when everyone else is gone, Grey will drive us back to the campsite and we can go to bed.’

Joanna tried to smile through the terror and had never been so grateful to have Precious by her side. They didn’t always get along perfectly, but Precious had sort of adopted her as a sister, and Joanna appreciated the lengths that she must have gone to in order to strike that deal with Grey.

‘Thank you,’ Joanna said, ‘for whatever you arranged with Grey. Thank you.’

‘That’s what friends are for, right?’ She gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s Faye, by the way.’

Joanna frowned.

‘My name,’ Precious continued. ‘You asked me once what my real name was, and it was Faye.’

‘That’s a pretty name,’ Joanna commented.

‘Yeah, well, I’m not that girl anymore; she’s long gone. It’s funny, I don’t remember hardly anything of my life before all this. Better that way, I think. I’d advise you to forget about any previous life too. Focus on making the most of what we’ve got here and now. The past is for the history books and the future is for dreamers.’

The key turned in the lock and Grey led four others in; this time, there were two lads there too. One had to be in his late teens or early twenties, head shaved so short that he looked like an army recruit. He nodded at the two of them before moving across and helping himself to two of the flutes, tipping one into the other. The other members of his party steered clear of the trolley, but squashed up on the chaise-longue.

‘Who are they?’ Joanna dared to whisper to Precious, not brave enough to look specifically at any of them.

Precious turned her back on the group so they wouldn’t hear their conversation. ‘They’re like us; they work for Mr Brown’s friends, but they’re located elsewhere. I recognise one of the girls from a previous night, but not the other three. Best not to talk to them; Grey’s instructions.’

Joanna kept her head down and her thoughts to herself as more girls were led into the room, some choosing to indulge in the Dutch courage, and others looking as terrified as Joanna felt. And before she knew it, the closed double doors were opened, and they were shown through to a much larger and even more decadent room with a roaring fire and marbled hearth at one end, half a dozen grandfather-type figures holding tumblers of brandy, and the ceiling thick with cigar smoke.

Joanna huddled close to Precious, coiling her fingers around her friend’s elbow as the first of the men approached and scrutinised them like a consumer comparing fruit, before selecting one of the other girls, and leading her by the hand to his chair in one corner of the room. The next figure approached, this one with a thick, bushy beard who wouldn’t have looked out of place at a Santa’s grotto. He perused them all once, a sickening twinkle in his eye, eventually offering his hand to Precious, who accepted and prised Joanna’s fingers from her arm in the process.

‘Just talk,’ Precious growled under her breath at Joanna before moving away with the man.

The next man’s eyes didn’t leave Joanna’s as he made a beeline for her. In her periphery, Joanna saw Grey step forward, arm stretched out as if he was going to shoo the man away, but he stopped still as Mr Brown moved forward.

‘Whatever the client wants,’ Mr Brown sneered, before turning and smiling at the other man, beckoning him to continue with his selection. The last thing Joanna wanted was to place her hand in the man’s enormous palm, but as she looked over and saw Precious nodding encouragingly, she reluctantly gave it to him and he moved her gently towards his chair.

Joanna couldn’t hear what Grey and Mr Brown were arguing about because they had left the room, but through the gap in the door she could see Mr Brown was the one giving the orders, and Grey looked far from happy with what he was being told.

Chapter Thirty-Five Now

Weymouth, Dorset

I’m up and drinking coffee when Jack surfaces and walks into the kitchen, his shirt creased from sleep and his hair looking as though he has been dragged backwards through a bush.

‘The kettle’s just boiled if you want a tea or coffee?’ I say, nodding towards the kettle on the side and the pots of tea and coffee beside it.

He’s squinting as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, and for a moment I can’t be