Stolen Girl (19 page)

With that, I turned and went upstairs to my bedroom.

I felt trapped. I wanted to have this baby but if I did, the colour of his skin would betray me.

Dean had almost always used protection so there was very little chance of it being his. Deep down, I knew the baby wasn’t his, and soon the whole world would know too. I wanted to have the baby but if I did everyone would discover my secret. And, if I did as Mum said then everything would be fine: Dean would be off the hook, no one would know about me and my secret, and I’d be able to go on living my life. With a heavy heart, I went back downstairs and spoke to Mum.

‘Okay, okay,’ I said wearily. ‘I’ll have an abortion.’

She sighed with relief.

‘Okay, I’ll sort everything out, make the necessary phone calls,’ she said briskly. Her voice sounded cold, almost businesslike.

I knew I was killing a life just to save mine and it felt all wrong. I hated myself for it – I felt guilty and as rotten and evil as the men who’d done this to me.

M
um and I travelled to the nearest city to an abortion clinic. ‘Ready?’ she asked, as we climbed out of Phil’s car.

‘Ready,’ I said, but I knew I wasn’t and that I never would be. I’d worked out that I was roughly ten weeks pregnant and as my stomach hardened and swelled, I started to feel it.

Mum gave my name at reception and we walked through into a waiting area. I tried not to look at the other girls in there but I couldn’t help it. One looked even younger than me. I wondered what had gone so wrong in her life that she’d ended up there. Most were older, though, in their late teens or early twenties. Some were flicking through magazines whilst others just stared straight ahead. Others were fidgeting, playing nervously with mobile phones.

The place was bright and modern. They’d tried to spruce it up with homely things – a few plants, nice pictures on the walls, comfy chairs – but we all knew the real reason we were there.

Before long, a nurse came out and called my name and I was taken to a room for a consultation with another member of staff. As she led me along the corridor I felt Mum’s eyes burning into my back from the waiting room, pleading with me to give the right answers.

The nurse asked me lots of questions, including why I wanted an abortion.

‘I don’t know,’ I whispered truthfully.

The nurse sighed and placed her pen on the desk.

‘You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. This is your choice and you can change your mind at any time,’ she explained gently.

I wanted to weep. It was as though she’d read my mind. I didn’t want to be here, sat in this room, about to kill my baby. But I couldn’t have it either. If I gave birth, everyone would know I’d slept with Asian men. Everyone would find out – I felt I had no choice.

‘Katie, this is really important,’ the nurse told me. ‘If you have any doubts about the abortion then you shouldn’t do it. You must go away and think long and hard about what it is you really want.’

My head was telling me one thing but my heart was saying quite another.

‘Katie, we cannot perform an abortion unless I’m absolutely convinced it is what you want, do you understand?’

I panicked when I realised she might say no. I got up and fled the room. Mum saw me in the corridor and came running over. When I told her what the nurse had said, she went mental.

‘Listen, you
have
to do this! I’ll not let you ruin your life,’ she insisted. Mum held my head in her hands. ‘Now you go back in there and tell her what she wants to hear.’ 

I knew she was right. By killing my baby I’d save my own neck – but that didn’t make it right. In fact, it made it worse.

The clinic was small. Mum wasn’t allowed to come into the treatment room with me so I was all alone. In a way I wanted her there. Perhaps if she was I’d be able to get her to change her mind and make her realise that we’d get through it; she’d let me keep my baby. But I’d have to tell her my secret and then everyone would know, even Dad. My heart sank. No, I had to do this – I’d have to kill my baby to make everything alright again.

As I signed my signature on the consent form I thought my heart would break in two. My hand shook as I gripped the pen. By signing it I was giving these people permission to kill my unborn child.

I was given an ultrasound scan to assess how pregnant I was but I didn’t look. The nurse turned the screen away anyway, and I didn’t ask her to turn it back round because I didn’t want to see what I was losing. I stole a breath when she told me I was 14 weeks pregnant.

I was still in shock as I was led towards a different section of the clinic. Again, Mum wasn’t allowed to go with me, but she gave me a hug.

‘Be brave,’ she whispered.

I didn’t feel it. The waiting room was sparse. As I looked around my eyes fixed on the door. I wondered what would happen if I ran out and didn’t stop running. Maybe if I ran no one would be able to hurt me or harm my baby. I’d find a way. I’d take care of us both and we’d be happy together – a small family unit. I’d have something to keep, someone I could call my own. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to run from the room but I knew it was pointless. Zeb would find
me; he’d hurt me and the baby. The baby would be proof of what they’d been doing to me.

I started talking to my baby. No one could hear but I knew that my unborn child could.
I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I want to keep you but I can’t. If I did, everyone would know and I don’t know what they’d do to me. I’d probably get into trouble. Things would be awful; we’d have no life. I’ve got to let you go, I hope you understand. I hope you can forgive me. I love you.

I was still speaking silently in my head when a nurse entered the room. She handed me a blue gown and asked me to put it on. My throat constricted with fear. Right now I was pregnant but soon there’d be an empty and hollow space: my baby would be gone forever.

With a heavy heart I walked into the operating theatre.

‘You’ll feel a little prick in your hand, but it’s just a scratch, nothing to worry about,’ the anaesthetist explained.

He pushed something sharp into the back of my hand. I saw the nurse at my side and beckoned to her with my eyes. She glanced down as I opened my mouth and tried to speak.

‘Please, don’t do it, I’ve…I’ve changed my mi…’ but the words slurred as my body shut down. My mind went into a deep sleep, taking me far away from the theatre and the clinic. Everything went black. It was too late. I’d tried to tell the nurse I didn’t want to do this, that I’d changed my mind. But when I awoke, I was sore and bloodied and I felt as though I’d been butchered.

I was led to a recovery area with other women who’d just been through the same procedure. Like the other room, this was comfortable and homely with reclining chairs which seemed odd and out of place – they looked like beach chairs. But this wasn’t a day out and we weren’t there to relax – this
was a place where they terminated pregnancies and I’d just killed my baby.

Nausea overwhelmed me and I grabbed a grey paper cup and threw up. I felt battered, as if I’d just been run over by a bus. I knew the physical pain would heal but the mental scars would remain with me forever.

I’d undergone a general anaesthetic so I had to stay at the clinic a little longer. Somehow it made me feel worse. I was still sat there when others came and went through the door. I saw all of them but I didn’t make eye contact; this wasn’t the place to make friends.

A taxi picked us up from the city centre and as we began the long journey home, Mum and I sat in complete silence. Neither of us knew what to say. I’d done what I’d come to do, but now all I felt was a crushing numbness.

The following day there was a knock at the front door. I heard a familiar voice – it was Dean. It was late at night but he’d come to speak to me about something. I hadn’t seen him for a few days.

‘I’m here because of you and the baby,’ he told me. The word ‘baby’ stood out from the rest and knifed me straight through the heart. Dean looked awkward, standing there in the front room. Mum and Phil were in the kitchen.

‘I’ve been thinking about us, and the baby,’ he said.

My head was all jumbled. Why did he keep saying that word?

‘I think we should keep it. I’ll do what it takes, I’ll stand by you, Katie – I want us to be together. I want to do the right thing.’

My heart sank; he didn’t know.

‘There is no baby,’ I told him. My voice sounded hard and clinical, void of all emotion. ‘I had an abortion yesterday.’

Dean physically doubled up before me. I’d done it to him – I’d caused that pain.

‘Right…’ was all he could muster. ‘I see.’

I felt like a complete shit. Dean was a decent and honest lad. He’d come back to tell me how he’d changed his mind. Even though I’d confessed about the other men, he was prepared to stand by me. If I hadn’t hit rock bottom before, I had now.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said as he turned to leave. I placed my hand on his shoulder. He briefly turned to look at me but his eyes were full of hurt. I hated myself more in that moment than I ever had before. I’d killed my baby; I could have said no but I’d chosen to do it. It was all my fault and now I couldn’t even stand myself.

In the weeks that followed, my heart ached. I’d fallen pregnant in the most callous way but that baby had been
my
baby, no one else’s – just mine. I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl but in my heart I was convinced it was a boy. He’d had no one to protect him, only me, but I hadn’t and now it was too late – he was dead and gone. I hated myself for it. After the abortion my life felt totally worthless.

One day, a month after the abortion, I walked into Wadi’s shop but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I spoke to a man who told me his name was Rafan. He worked for Wadi. I’d seen him countless times before shifting boxes in and out of the shop but, other than that, I didn’t really know him. As soon as he saw me, he looked up and smiled broadly. I asked if Wadi was in but Rafan shook his head.

‘No, he’s out,’ he replied, still grinning at me.

‘But is it something I can help you with?’ he said, giving me a knowing wink.

I tried not to blush. It was obvious he liked me.

With Wadi nowhere to be seen, I stood and chatted to Rafan for a while. He was very charming and I felt flattered by the attention he paid me. Rafan started to flirt. I enjoyed his company but, with no sign of Wadi, I eventually said goodbye and wandered back home.

A few days later, Lauren called over to see me so I took her to the shop. Rafan was there and he smiled when he saw us. It was obvious that Lauren fancied him but I knew what these men were like and I knew that I needed to protect her from him.

When Rafan asked us to go for a drive in his car, Lauren readily agreed. Her eyes flashed with excitement as we climbed into the back seat. Soon, we’d pulled up outside a house in a different town. Like the secret house, it looked ordinary from the outside, nestled against normal terraced properties.

Rafan poured us both a drink. Lauren giggled as we all began to laugh and joke but I felt a little nervous. Another man came downstairs and started talking to Lauren. Soon we were all drinking and smoking joints but the dope was stronger than anything I’d had before. It knocked me off-guard. The man was stroking Lauren’s arm and she looked uncomfortable. Suddenly I didn’t want to be there, but Rafan poured me another drink. He asked if I wanted to go and ‘chill’ upstairs with him. I knew what that meant and what he was after. I didn’t want him to start on Lauren – I had to protect her – so I went along with him.

Lauren looked at me. Her face was hurt and confused, as though I’d betrayed her. Rafan took me to a bedroom where he started to kiss me. We smoked some more joints and I drank stuff I’d never even tried before. Eventually, the room began to spin and I covered my mouth.

‘I’m going to be sick,’ I gasped. I ran along the landing into the bathroom. The noise brought Lauren and the man running upstairs. I vomited a bright green liquid in the toilet bowl. Rafan’s mate tapped me on the back; it made my flesh crawl.

‘Leave me alone,’ I hissed at him.

I cleaned myself up but I felt wretched. I stumbled downstairs but Rafan followed and started pawing my body, offering me more joints and alcohol.

‘Leave her alone!’ It was Lauren’s voice. ‘Can’t you see she’s not well?’

But he wasn’t listening.

‘Come upstairs,’ he said, dragging me to my feet. Limply, I staggered behind him.

We had sex and eventually returned downstairs to Lauren and the strange man in the front room. But Lauren wouldn’t look at me. I could tell she hated me for having sex with Rafan – the man she fancied. I couldn’t explain it to her but I knew what he wanted and how he wouldn’t stop until he’d got his own way. My life was already ruined; I wouldn’t let him ruin hers too.

Afterwards, Lauren barely spoke to me. She felt I’d betrayed her but I knew all I’d done was protect her.

In the weeks that followed, I began to bleed in between periods. Rafan hadn’t used any protection and for a moment, I was gripped with fear that I might be pregnant again. I needed to know one way or another so I travelled to a GUM clinic in a hospital on the other side of town. I lied and told them I’d had unprotected sex with my boyfriend.

‘I’m worried I could be pregnant,’ I confessed.

Thankfully, I wasn’t but further tests revealed something else: I had Chlamydia. It seems I had saved Lauren in more ways than one.

I was given a two-week course of antibiotics but I almost didn’t care. Having a sexually transmitted infection wasn’t as bad as having an abortion. Nothing else could hurt me as much as that had.

It was suggested I have a coil fitted to prevent further pregnancies. I readily agreed. Before the baby, it hadn’t occurred to me that I might actually get pregnant. It sounds stupid and naive but somehow I thought I was too young. Following the abortion, I was determined I wouldn’t get caught out again.

Rafan continued to text me and we met again a few weeks later. This time he took me to another house. Unlike the other, this one had furniture. We went upstairs into a pink bedroom. I could tell it was a little girl’s room, yet despite that, we still had unprotected sex on the single bed.

This time I stayed overnight – I lied and told Mum I was staying at Lauren’s. The following morning when I woke up, Rafan was gone. I got dressed and made my way out onto the landing. Moments later, another Asian man came out of a second bedroom. He studied me for a moment and spoke.

‘I’m just about to have a shower but you must wait for me,’ he said, grabbing my arm. ‘We can have fun – we can chill together.’

By now, of course, I knew what ‘chill’ meant – it was a code word for sex.

‘Okay,’ I smiled. The man leered back at me and used his other hand to stroke my face.

‘I’ll be just here,’ I told him, pointing back at the bedroom.

He grinned and headed into the bathroom.

As soon as I heard the shower click on, I fled downstairs and out of the house. I didn’t stop running until I reached my front door. Only then did I feel safe.