Anne Bennett 3-Book Collection: A Sister’s Promise, A Daughter’s Secret, A Mother’s Spirit. Anne Bennett
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‘Why?’
‘Sweetheart, you are living in his flat, and rent-free as well. Isn’t it natural that he is curious about you?’
‘Oh, yes, of course, Ray.’
‘He is also my boss, in a way, and it is very important that everything goes well tonight.’
Molly looked at him with a dreamy expression in her slightly glazed eyes. ‘Yes, Ray.’
‘I want you to help me in this.’
‘You know I will,’ Molly said, because she owed such a debt to Ray and would never forget it. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I will be bringing him back here after the meal, and if you want to continue to live here and also please me, it is important that you are very, very nice to him, when I pop out for a little while. You do understand what I mean by being nice, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Molly said. She knew what nice was, and she was hardly likely to be less than that to a friend of Ray’s who was also her landlord.
‘So you do whatever he wants?’
‘Whatever he wants,’ Molly repeated, and Ray was pleased to hear the slur in her voice from the effect of the drugs that he had given her a little while before. ‘I will do anything he wants because I am to be nice to him.’
‘Good girl!’ Ray said, and Molly basked in his praise. ‘Now, while I am away I want you to have a long bath and wash your hair, because I want you to look your best,’ he said, hauling her to her feet. ‘And I will go and choose the clothes I want you to wear afterwards.’
Edwin Collingsworth had not been in the house five minutes when Molly made up her mind she didn’t like him. There was nothing even remotely attractive about him, for he was an undersized man, with an extremely sparse head of mousy brown hair surrounding a very large and definite bald patch. His wrinkled face was thin and he had a long, pinched nose and lips so lean and narrow they made his mouth look mean and cruel.
His eyes, though, were his worst feature. They were small, too close together and glittered as cold as two pieces of blue flint as they raked over Molly until she felt as if she was stripped naked before him.
He stepped forward and said in a sharp, nasal voice, ‘I am delighted to meet you, Molly, and I must say you are just as beautiful as Ray said you were.’
Molly took Mr Collingsworth’s proffered hand and then wished she hadn’t, for it was limp and clammy. She imagined, as she shook it, that it was like shaking hands with a warm, wet fish. But, for Ray’s sake, she didn’t show any aversion in her manner and just told the man that she was pleased to meet him. Ray at least looked satisfied with her response.
She offered tea, but Ray said he had something Mr Collingsworth would much prefer and produced a bottle of whiskey. He was so obviously right, for it brought the ghost of a smile to the man’s face, which wrinkled it up more than ever and made him look worse, if possible.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Bushmills. Nothing beats a drop of Irish malt.’
Mr Collingsworth claimed he couldn’t enjoy the drink unless Molly joined them, which she was more than happy to do, and Ray knew a few drinks, mixed with the powders, would make her like putty in the man’s hand. Collingsworth had already paid Ray highly for providing a virgin, the balance to be paid when Molly had satisfied his desires, whatever they were.
‘We must celebrate this day, don’t you feel, my dear?’ Collingsworth said, chinking his glass against hers.
Molly was puzzled. ‘Why? What’s special about today?’
‘It’s the day I have met you, my dear,’ Collingsworth said. ‘And the day you and I are going to get to know each other better.’
Molly’s eyes sought Ray’s, but she could read nothing in them that she could understand and he had a smile on his face that made her uneasy.
Edwin Collingsworth had never had much luck with women. He knew that most found him repulsive, but his money and influence ensured he had the means to pay prostitutes to satisfy his frustrated lust, and also offer any other sexual deviation he wanted. However, the women he paid were usually older, and had done it many times before, and what he really liked was an untried virgin. He wanted his hands to be the first to explore a young girl’s body and possibly awaken the sexual awareness and arousal wrapped up inside her so that if she allowed herself it could be an enjoyable experience.
Ray was one of the best at finding girls to fulfil his needs and using the powders, which Collingsworth also supplied, together with alcohol, would soon have the girls compliant and eager to please. Now here was another little beauty, and though his penis had throbbed almost painfully at the nearness of her, he told himself to go slow with this one, take his time, and the pleasure would be all the sweeter for it.
The only stipulation Ray had made was that he wasn’t to hurt her physically. He knew that was because she was destined for Vera’s place the following week. Her knocking shop would have a lot of new punters over Christmas, drunk, many of them – not that the girls minded that. They always said the drunks tipped better. Vera said the regulars liked a bit of new blood, but they were no good to her if they had been smacked about a bit. Collingsworth had no desire to hurt Molly, however, just shag her over and over in the long night before them.
Yet he sensed her unease and, in his experience, most women were more amenable after a drink or two, so he said to Molly, ‘Come on now. I said that this is a celebration, so you just drink up that drink and I will pour us each another, and you can sit here beside me and tell me all about yourself.’
Molly had no desire to get any closer to Collingsworth than she had to. He made her skin crawl and there was a sort of aura of unwholesomeness emanating from him. She looked to Ray for help, but his eyes were harder than she had ever seen them, and he gave an almost imperceptible jerk of his head towards Collingsworth so that Molly knew that this was part of being nice to him. Surely, to please Ray, she could do this one small thing? He had never asked her to do anything before, and after tonight she probably wouldn’t see much of Mr Collingsworth at all. So she downed the contents of her glass, welcoming the ensuing dizziness, and Ray took it for a refill as she sank down beside Collingsworth on the sofa and tried not to show her distaste when he pulled her close against him.
She caught Ray’s eyes upon her, shining in approval, so she took a large gulp of the drink he gave her and let her body sag against this man she had to be nice to.
As Collingsworth felt her warmth and closeness, his excitement mounted.
Ray said. ‘As you two seem to be getting along so well, I will leave you now.’
‘Yes,’ Collingsworth said. ‘We will be fine, won’t we, Molly?’
Molly felt anything but fine, but she knew to say that would make Ray angry. She had never seen him angry and had no desire to, nor did she want to disappoint him, and so she gave a brief nod, but when she heard the front door slam, she drank deeply again, hoping it would chase away the nervousness coursing through her veins.
‘Tell me about yourself, my dear,’ Collingsworth said.
‘What d’you want to know, Mr Collingsworth?’
‘It’s Edwin, my dear. Can you call me Edwin?’
Molly shrugged. ‘If you like.’
‘Now I would like to know all about you,’ Collingsworth said.
‘But I don’t know anything,’ Molly said. ‘My past is like a big black hole.’
Collingsworth smiled because Ray had done his work well. It was far better that the girls destined for the whorehouse remembered as little of their former lives as possible.
‘I used to worry that I was losing my mind,’ Molly admitted.
‘Oh, no, not you, my dear girl,’ Collingsworth said