‘You’ll do nothing of the sort, young lady!’ Lorne exchanged a long, almost empathic look with his wife. ‘We’ve a spare room.’ He got up to leave, but added, ‘I’ll have a little chat with my old friend Harold after supper, just to set him straight on a few things.’

Lorne and his wife exchanged a humorous look as they sat at the table and appraised their brood. Both David and the girl, Monica, were a little scuffed, but it was nothing serious. From the other’s reactions, however, you’d have thought David had just returned from a war with a homeless waif in tow. The girl’s hair and clothes made her appearance rather odd, but he could tell that she was a pretty little thing- at least, she would be if she ever managed to lose that curdled moue with her jaw stuck out like that.

His copper’s training, however, brought to mind the reason a girl in her situation would adopt such an unappealing mien, and he found himself stung with pity. Having some idea of what went on in the Tarkenton house, it went without saying that the girl would have to make herself as unappealing as possible to avoid being raped; or worse, forced into prostituting herself, hence the affected grimace and baggy, unclean clothes.




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