Gav was obviously bored of his guitar, because he’d decided he needed to play some Goth album or other, and play it loud. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to shut it out and feeling like a spare part of something I didn’t even understand.

Twelve

Giles watched the screen intently. I just hoped he’d be pleased with how it all panned out. I wasn’t, not really, but if it had the desired outcome, all well and good. I had a favour to ask him, and I needed him to be satisfied.

Felicity was sitting up on the picnic bench now, looking around at the guys in confusion. ‘Wait… what are you doing?’

To a man, they were following orders, even Rick. As each one did up their fly and turned away, she looked panicked. ‘Where are you going?’ She spoke quickly and her voice was high-pitched. ‘Don’t you want more?’

It was Matt that broke the news. ‘Nah… thanks babe. That’s your lot.’

‘But what…why?’

Rick turned back to her. ‘No offense, love, but you’re a slapper. Girls like you…you’re good for one thing, get it?’ He seemed to be enjoying it. I gritted my teeth, and forced myself to carry on watching. ‘I’ve got a wife, see? She’s a good girl, and I love her. I wouldn’t swap her for a whore like you, not for the world.’

‘Yeah,’ Matt was almost sneering. If they were just following orders, they’d outdone themselves, but I had a feeling they were really getting off on it. ‘Cheap slags like you are just there to be used, babe. Sort yourself out.’

I stayed, watching them walk off back to their cars, while she just sat there, speechless, on the bench. Only Alex stayed with me. He was still videoing –making sure he got the evidence for Giles. She didn’t even seem to notice.

I could still hear their jeering as she got down from the picnic table, pulling her skirt down as she did so. She came over to me, stumbling again in her heels. This time, it wasn’t put on. I could tell. Her eyes were bright and she blinked hard. I knew she was fighting back the tears.

‘What about you?’ she said. ‘You’ve done nothing…said nothing. Why are you still here?’

I shrugged. ‘I wanted to make sure you were okay.’

She sniffed. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. Her face bunched up, and a single tear escaped, rolling hard and fast down her cheek. ‘I’ll be all right.’

‘Are you going to do this again?’

She paused a moment, as if considering. She sniffed again. ‘I…don’t know. Are you offering?’

‘I’m not offering,’ I said. ‘No.’

‘Shame,’ she said, coming closer to me. She looked pitiful. Her face was clouded with misery, and her bruised breasts still hung free. She pressed them up against me, and rubbed them against my chest. I moved backward – away from them…from her. ‘You’re more my kind of guy,’ she added, following me. ‘Although…you remind me of my father.’

I felt Giles flinch, and cursed inwardly. I’d forgotten this bit. Why hadn’t Alex edited it out?

‘Your father?’ I echoed, holding my hand out to keep her from getting in close.

‘Yeah.’ She rolled her eyes, and gave a brief laugh. ‘There’s something about you. I don’t know. You’re good looking…well, you must know that…and attractive, but…’ She seemed to be struggling to find the words. ‘But ultimately…you’re untouchable.’

She was right there. She wasn’t going to touch me with a ten foot pole. I sidestepped another lunge, and took a deep breath. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘Do you know what I think’s going on here?’

‘No,’ she said, her wide eyes trailing me up and down. ‘But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’

‘Correct,’ I said. This was my last chance. I couldn’t fuck it up. ‘Look, I think you’re looking for something else.’ God, it sounded cheesy, but I had to get my point across. ‘You want to matter and, somehow, you’ve equated sex with love. The more sex you can get, the more you’re loved.’

I paused, waiting for the rebuttal, but it didn’t come. She just stood there looking at the floor, and started to drag her top back up over her mangled breasts. I pressed my advantage while I had it. ‘You’re not going to find love like this, you know. You’re just going to end up hurt…used.’

‘That’s all I’ve ever been,’ she said, in a small voice. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Ah, but I do,’ I said. ‘More than you know. But you can’t let it dictate your life. You’ve got it all going on, Felicity. Trust me.’ I paused. I didn’t like lying, but I had to get my point across. ‘You’re beautiful, you’re clever and you’re rich. You’ve got the world at your feet. Don’t fuck it up.’

My words seemed to hit home. She looked up at me, her eyes full and wet, and she smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and it sounded like she meant it. ‘I’ll try.’

‘And if you’re ever in trouble,’ I added. ‘Call me.’

I felt in my pocket for a pen and paper. I hadn’t meant to go this far, but I could sense she was sincere, and I wanted to make sure she didn’t fuck up. ‘Here,’ I said, scribbling down my mobile number.

She took it, and smiled at me. No hint of sexiness this time, just an honest-to-goodness smile. ‘What do I call you?’ she asked.

I hesitated. There was no way she was getting my real name. Should I make something up? I almost did, but it didn’t feel right. Then, for some reason, Charlotte’s words came back into my mind. She’d had the perfect name for me. ‘You can call me The Filth Monger,’ I said, with an inward smile.

‘I followed her home,’ I said. ‘Made sure she got there safely. It’s up to you now.’

Giles was silent. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and could only wait for him to break the ice. Finally, he stood up. ‘The Filth Monger,’ he said with a short bark of a laugh. ‘Most appropriate. Well…’ He walked over to the door. ‘Mission accomplished, it would seem.’

‘I have to keep the tape,’ I said, following him over. ‘For obvious reasons, but I can give you a copy if you need one.’

‘No,’ he shuddered visibly. ‘Once is more than enough. Keep it,’ he said. ‘But keep it safe. No fuck ups.’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘You have my word.’

‘I hope so.’ He opened the door, to show me out. ‘And if there’s anything I can do…’

I stopped there, in the doorway. This was my chance. ‘Actually,’ I said. ‘There is something I could use your help with…’

Thirteen

By the time Liv got in, I was asleep. I was so exhausted I’d eventually lain down and drifted off, even over the incessant throb of the music. I awoke to the sound of raised voices. The music had stopped and someone was crying – a low, wailing sound.

At first, I thought it was Liv, and I froze. I’d just got up, ready to go down and fight her corner, when I heard her shout something and the front door slammed. I went downstairs, hesitantly. I felt like I was intruding.

Liv was standing by the front door, looking at herself in a mirror. She was obviously dissatisfied with what she saw, because she leaned over and ruffled her short, dark hair, pushing at it to make it stand up. I didn’t know why she bothered. Her pixie-cut locks always looked immaculate, and framed her pale face, with its dark eyes and tip-tilted nose, perfectly. She was stunning in a thrown-together kind of way, and was never out of a pair of jeans outside of work. She span around when she heard my footsteps, and looked up at me. ‘Dick,’ she said, nodding towards the door with an apologetic smile. ‘Did we wake you, hon?’

I shook my head. ‘It’s fine.’

‘My fucking hair.’ She ran her fingers through it again, throwing her reflection a critical look.

‘It’s fine,’ I said again.

‘I’m growing it out.’ She turned back to me. ‘Fuck knows why.’

I laughed. ‘So what’s the deal with you and Nick Cave’s baby brother?’ I started to walk downstairs.

‘Don’t even ask.’ She gave a sad smile and opened her arms in a welcoming gesture. ‘Musically, we’re compatible. Sexually… not so much… and domestically…’ She shuddered visibly. ‘I’m not his bloody mother!’