The Lost: Book Two of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 2

I let the corners of my mouth twitch nervously as he got closer and now I could smell the overpowering stench of cheap aftershave mixed with sweat and hair gel. His grin grew wider as he neared; clearly thinking he had won the prize of the century.

"Alright, love?" he said, raising an eyebrow and smiling, revealing a mouth missing a number of teeth and a couple that were barely more than blackened stumps. His breath smelt of a heavy addiction to nicotine and discount-store lager. He was probably in his forties, thin and wiry with hair parted on the side and slicked down with gel that was probably from one of those fifty pence non-branded tubs. Above his right eyebrow a cigarette burn pock-marked his skin.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, letting my teeth chatter and running a shaking hand through my tousled hair, in a desperate attempt to preen in front of him. "You alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm good, ta love. I'm really good. Bloody brass monkeys out here though, ain't it?" His eyes flitted over my face and down to the collar of my jacket that opened in a V revealing an expanse of pale skin. "Bet you're freezing, eh?"

"Yeah, it's been slow tonight," I replied shyly. "No one wants to come out in this kind of weather. Don't blame them really."

A sheen of triumph glistened in his eyes. Got a right one here, he was thinking, got the bloody jackpot.

"Well, if you're interested, my car is just over there." He pointed to a beat-up Astra on the corner. I knew it was his. I had seen him pull up in it, slowly checking out the street as he passed and stopping as soon as he saw me. "We could, you know, go for a drive? Get you warmed up a bit?"

Got a right one here, I thought, got the bloody jackpot.

"Um, I dunno...." I tailed off, eyeing the car suspiciously. "I usually stick around here. I've got a place we can go."

"But I bet it ain't got a heater like my car has." He smiled his best salesman smile. "It might not look much from the outside, but it's in good nick on the inside. Leather seats. Car stereo if you fancy a bit of background music. Come on, it's got to be better than out here?"

I hesitated for just the right amount of time. A stringy seed of desperation crept across his face.

"I'll give you forty, alright? I usually don't go above thirty, but you're a pretty girl, like. And I hate to see you shivering out here in the bloody cold. Come on, love, you won't get a better offer at this time of night, will ya?"

I sighed and shook my head, pulling my arms tighter around myself and rubbing at my arms to ward off the chill. "Alright. Forty though okay?"

"Deal, darling. Come on; let's go warm up, yeah?" He wet his lips with a dart of his tongue, leaving spittle at the corner of his mouth.

The leather seats were probably more akin to a very worn and dirty PU and the car stereo had a cassette player and a radio that crackled static through the speakers. The smell of stale smoke and booze was stronger in here and a couple of discarded beer cans clanked against my boots. Turning the engine over, the man grinned at me again and it was all I could do not to giggle as he shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, the hardness in his groin clearly causing him some problems.

He didn't take us far. I don't think his excitement could have withstood a longer journey. We ended up just a few streets away, close to a row of lock-ups and he tucked the car into a space so tight that I knew there was no way of opening the doors unless he reversed. I pretended to glance nervously around, clearly rattled and fully aware of what he had done.

"Relax, love. Never been caught out by the old bill here. It's perfectly safe." That salesman grin again, although this time it didn't reach his eyes. "Go on then, get yourself in the back."