LITMIR.BIZ

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‘hobby’, which, for all I knew, could be carrying on upstairs even as I spoke.

      I jumped, startled, as I heard Tyler cough behind me. ‘Bloody hell, Ty!’ I said, clutching my chest with my free hand while I ended the call. ‘You’re like a bloody ninja. How long have you been down?’

      He was already dressed for school and looked embarrassed. I wondered what, if anything, he’d heard. ‘I wasn’t being nosey,’ he said. ‘But is that straight up, Mum? About the phone sex? Flipping hell.’

      Too much, then. But I’d already had a hunch he probably knew all about phone sex. Or at least the business of boys and girls ‘sexting’ each other – it had been all over the tabloids in recent years, after all, more often than not because some poor girl had found her explicit, private pictures plastered all over social media, after dumping some low-life of a boyfriend.

      I followed him back indoors. ‘Flipping heck,’ I said. ‘Flipping heck indeed, love. I wish you hadn’t heard that. And it’s confidential, obviously. And shouldn’t you be getting off to school?’

      Tyler had been with us long enough to know all about confidentiality. And also to know when a conversation such as this was effectively over.

      He nodded, and reached down for his backpack, which was already propped waiting against the front door. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but you know, Mum, you shouldn’t worry too much. It’s the latest craze. A couple of girls in my class even do it.’

      My eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Really?’ Though I was surprised not so much that they did it, as the fact that it was all discussed so openly between peers.

      ‘Honestly, Mum. Really,’ he said, dutifully dipping his head and proffering his cheek for his farewell kiss. ‘They get perfume and make-up and stuff sent through the post – and then they come in and brag about it. I know – it’s mad, isn’t it?’

      Mad. I wasn’t sure that was quite the word I’d use. And I was still stuck at astounded. Was that really what some teenage girls did these days? It beggared belief. Did they think it was normal? Did they think it was moral? And more to the point, were their parents aware of how they came by all the plunder? What had happened to taking a bloody Saturday job in a café or something? What was the world coming to, honestly? I thought of Marley Mae and Dee Dee and the teenage world they’d all too soon grow into. But it was such a horrible, unedifying thought that I resolved not to think about it any more.

      The morning wore on, and the not-thinking approach mostly worked, but by eleven it struck me that though Keeley, with her traumatic background, was unlike a majority of teens, in one aspect she was exactly like pretty much every one of them, in that, with no school to attend, she still hadn’t surfaced.

      And not because she was putting a shift in at her personal cottage industry; I’d been ‘just passing’ all morning, back and forth across the landing like some deranged stalker, and I hadn’t heard a peep from her. I made a mental note that tackling someone about her education must be a priority if she were to be staying with us for any length of time. A girl of her age definitely needed to be in school. And a woman of my age definitely needed her to be in school too.

      And right now, it was high time she was up, washed and dressed, not least so she’d be fed and presentable when her social worker came knocking.

      I knocked myself and, as before, went straight in. What had happened last night meant any concessions to her privacy would henceforth have to be earned.

      ‘Come on, sleepy head,’ I said as her head emerged from under the duvet. ‘It’s almost lunchtime and this afternoon your social worker is coming, along with my boss and a couple of others, so you need to be up and dressed and ready. Would you like breakfast? Or, more accurately, brunch?’

      Keeley groaned and rubbed her eyes. She had very pretty eyes, I decided. Pools for Tyler to drown in? I hoped not. ‘Is it late, then?’ she said, looking around for her mobile. Which she found, in the bed, as was so often the case. ‘I don’t usually sleep as late as this,’ she said, squinting at it. Then, gathering her thoughts, she pouted. ‘I s’pose I’ll have to put the same clothes on as yesterday again, won’t I?’

      ‘Afraid so,’ I said, refusing to feel guilty about that. I’d offered to wash them and to lend her some of my own clothes last night, but she’d declined the former and looked at me as if I was insane re the latter. All part of her mission, no doubt, to get me shopping for her without delay.

      But her smile was sweet enough as she pulled herself up in bed properly. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long. I’ll be down in ten minutes. And just some tea and toast, please, if that’s okay?’

      I told her it was and was just heading downstairs when my own mobile phone started ringing again. It was John again, who’d now been in touch with Keeley’s social worker, Danny, and was able to confirm that they’d both be with us at one thirty.

      ‘And I’ve spoken with several colleagues about the phone thing as well.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘And you’re not going to like it. Because apparently it’s a very grey area. For one thing Keeley is almost sixteen, which makes it extremely difficult to prove coercion. And for another, the fact that this seems to be random people she’s phoning – who you say she claims she doesn’t know from Adam, that’s right, isn’t it? – just makes it even more difficult. If she doesn’t know them, then they probably don’t know her either, and may well not even be aware of her age. And even if they were, that too would be difficult to prove. Which means it’s almost impossible to address legally, on either count; unless there’s a specific complaint, or some evidence that someone is abusing or grooming her, it’s just so difficult to prove, full stop.’

      ‘So it’s allowed, then?’ I asked, understanding what he was saying, and processing the reason why, but still feeling completely floored by it all. ‘A young girl can actually, within the law, have phone sex with strangers? Who pay her? You’re actually telling me this is legal?’

      ‘It’s not as clear cut as that, Casey,’ John explained. ‘And I do have people digging around for more information for me, but right now that’s all I know for sure. We can discuss it when we come over. Though one bit of good news is that I’ve spoken to a family liaison officer who works with children who’ve been groomed, and one thing we can do is have him come with us to talk to her. Keeley might not feel very receptive, but I think it’s important that we try. If nothing else to spell out the potential danger she may open herself up to – whether it’s online or via the phone – particularly if she is giving out her address in order to receive gifts. That part’s very worrying.’

      And also practised by girls in Tyler’s class, apparently, I mused, having yet another ‘what’s the world coming to?’ moment.

      ‘It is,’ I agreed. ‘And I’d like that to happen very much.’

      ‘I thought you might,’ John said, ‘given that it’s your security at stake too.’

      ‘Not to mention the fact that we really need to nip this in the bud; I can’t have this sort of thing going on under my roof.’

      ‘I’ll do that,’ John assured me. ‘If we can pin one down we’ll bring along a community support police officer too, just to reiterate that a criminal offence could be taking place without her even being aware of it.’

      That I didn’t imagine for a moment. I reckoned Keeley was bright enough to be well aware of the ramifications of everything she did. But it couldn’t hurt, and a presence in uniform often had an impact, even to a child who’d been in the system long enough to know how to work it to their advantage. Feeling I’d done all I could do for now, I told John I’d see him later, then got down to the business of making our little entrepreneur her breakfast.

       Chapter

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