Chapter 1
Ella woke up when the gentle sound of her watch alarm rang out in the room.
She took a deep breath, genuinely regretting that she’d set the alarm yesterday. Why on earth had she done that? Ah yes, it was Saturday; she was supposed to go to the shopping centre with Viola, her best friend.
She sat up slowly but immediately slumped back onto the bed. Her head and arm ached. She closed her eyes, breathing calmly. She felt that lump in her throat again. She felt like crying. She kept telling herself that it would all end eventually. Telling herself that helped. She was really starting to believe it. She lay there, unable to start the new day just yet, when she heard a knock at the door and her father’s voice, quiet, almost inaudible.
‘Are you getting up?’
‘No,’ she replied, her voice hoarser than usual. She cleared her throat, staring at the door. She was sure he wouldn’t come in, not after yesterday. A few seconds of silence, after which she heard a quiet.
‘I’m sorry.’
She took a deep breath, knowing full well that wasn’t what she was thinking. Sometimes she wondered why he pretended. Perhaps it was a habit from his job – after all, he was a lawyer. Lawyers often say things they don’t believe themselves. She rolled her eyes and closed her eyelids
– I’ve left you some money in the kitchen. When you feel better, maybe you can buy yourself something?
Ella just shook her head, but said nothing.It was always the same. Money like a whore’s fee for the night. She wondered how much longer she could take it? Would she last until her eighteenth birthday? It was so close, and yet it dragged on endlessly.
She sat up slowly, draping the duvet over her knees, when she heard
- See you later.
And a moment later, the sound of the front door closing.
She drew in a breath through her nose and exhaled loudly through her mouth. She looked out of the window; rays of sunlight were streaming through the curtains, which meant it was shaping up to be a lovely day.
The room, though not large, was pleasant and well-kept. The walls were a pale pink, adorned with pictures of animals and photos of Ella with a friend. One of the walls to the left of the entrance was entirely covered by a wall unit. On the shelves stood souvenirs, porcelain figures of animals and angels, talismans and colourful pebbles. Opposite, to the right of the door, stood a bed against the wall, and next to it a solid wooden desk. The desk was tidy, everything carefully arranged: books, notebooks. Pens and pencils were tucked into small colourful cups.
Ella liked her room, but from time to time she couldn’t resist the temptation to change something in it. In the evenings, she would sit on the windowsill and watch people walking down the street. Children playing in the playground.
On days like today, however, she dreamed only of the day she would move out of here and leave the bad memories behind.
She got up slowly and went into the kitchen. She put the kettle on. She needed a cup of coffee. That drink always cheered her up. She sat down at the kitchen table, waiting for the water to boil.
She saw a wad of banknotes on the table; he was leaving more and more. Could he be feeling remorse?No, that wasn’t it. As a lawyer, he had no conscience. She touched the wad with her finger. She still remembered the first time she’d seen a wad of cash, though that one had been much smaller than this one. Back then, she’d burst into tears, feeling both physical and emotional pain as she realised her life would never be the same again.
After every fit of rage, Karol Black would leave money behind, as if he wanted to atone for his sins in this way. It took Ella a while to come up with the idea. She started hiding the money. After all, he would leave one day, and then it would come in handy. She wasn’t sure how much she would collect, or whether he would always be so generous. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that she’d have something to start with. Sometimes she thought about running away, but where would she end up? No one would rent a flat to an underage girl; no one would even talk to her. They’d call the police, bring her home, or send her to a children’s home or a foster family. She didn’t want that, who knows where she’d end up.
Sometimes, as she counted the money, she wondered if Karol had ever calculated how much he’d given her, or if he’d thought about what she was doing with it. In the few conversations she’d had with him, they’d never touched on the subject.
It all started when Wanda Black left. Ella didn’t know why; she’d simply walked out one day with a suitcase, without a word of explanation, and Ella never saw her again.The girl racked her brains, unable to understand why her mother had abandoned her. They’d been close; they’d gone shopping, to the cinema, to cafés. They’d spent a lot of time together. Suddenly, without any explanation, she’d vanished.
Karol was left alone with the teenager. He was rarely at home. The court was his home, and when he wasn’t at court, he was away on business trips. When he finally did come home, he drank heavily and wasn’t nice then. Ella thought it was grief over the loss of his wife. She tried to start a conversation, but it always ended just as painfully.
Sometimes things got really bad, and Ella had to seek help at A&E. There she met Nurse Bravler, who was helpful and so kind to her. The nurse called her ‘Porcelain’, because Ella was always telling stories about falling off something or bumping into something. Of course, the entire hospital staff knew full well that this wasn’t true, but as long as the girl didn’t want to speak up, there was nothing they could do. Ella didn’t want to report it. She had many reasons. Firstly, shame. The hope that things would change after all, and her father would understand his behaviour. And the third reason was that, apart from her father, she had no one else. She realised that if she were taken away, she would end up in a children’s home or with a foster family foster care, and who’s to say it would be any better there – you hear so many different stories.
Sister Bravler didn’t approve of the girl’s decision, but she understood her enough not to lose touch with her. So, Ella always tried to get in touch with her hospital guardian angel whenever she had problems.
Finally, the water came to the boil and the girl’s memories froze for a moment as she focused on her favourite drink. She closed her eyes and savoured the drink. Her upper lip was split, and she felt a twinge of pain as she pressed her lips together. She remembered how she’d once wanted to run away from home. She’d spent several nights wandering around the estate, avoiding her drunken father and only returning once he’d left.
She thought that would be the way to get through those few months. At night, gangs and some ragged characters roamed the estate, but to the girl’s surprise, not everyone was bad or wayward. She met a few quite cheerful people; she didn’t understand why they were there. She called them rebels by choice. She’d watched that film several times. Like Will, they were intelligent and funny, but they refused to conform to the rules imposed by the system. They laughed at the comparison. Yet they surrounded Elle with support and protection.
The longer she stayed there, the more she learnt about life in this world. It could be brutal and took no prisoners; one could rise to prominence and become rich very quickly, and just as quickly one could vanish and be forgotten. She learnt certain names, people who held power. They could make someone disappear or rise to prominence. For the girl, however, this knowledge was useful in knowing where not to show her face and who not to speak to. She had enough trouble of her own.
One of the key figures who inspired both respect and fear was Igor. She knew that wasn’t the lad’s real name, but it was a name that made many faces go pale with fear. Small fry like the lot here in the estate were nothing compared to Igor. Ella’s friends – the Willows – knew Igor and held him in high regard. She found out from them what their boss was up to. It seemed he had no scruples. He was the right-hand man of the mafia boss who controlled a large part of the city. She knew it would be best to avoid this man. She decided not to get any deeper into that world. She began to compare her home with the environment she was getting increasingly drawn into.
Her father, however, made the decision for her. Even when drunk, he could think clearly. He quickly learnt how to stop her from running away. He kept watch over the door and fitted a new lock. To make matters even more difficult, he stopped telling her when he was leaving and when he was coming back. Now the girl lived in constant fear and uncertainty; she was afraid to return home, not knowing if he would be there. She couldn’t sleep at night. She felt increasingly tired, and only the hope of her eighteenth birthday helped her get through another day.
Sipping her coffee now, she was certain of one thing. She had peace for at least a week. This was a time when she could breathe a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes, savouring the liquid on her lips. She had to be strong, just a little longer.
She looked out of the window. It was January, and there was a thick blanket of snow everywhere. She smiled at the sight; she loved the snow. Those flakes falling from the sky; gazing up at the sky in the evenings and letting the stars fall onto her face. Back then, everything looked different, magical. Now the day was only just beginning, but perhaps it would start snowing again in the evening. She smiled to herself, and only the pain reminded her of reality. She shuffled to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
She looked at her round face with blue eyes and a straight nose in the middle; her cheeks were a little sunken, as she’d lost quite a bit of weight recently, but they were still slightly pink. Her right cheek in particular looked swollen, and a small bruise was already clearly visible. Her lips were large and full, now a little swollen; dried blood revealed where her lip had been cut. Her black hair, in complete disarray, made her look as though she’d just finished a fight with someone. She smiled gently to herself. In truth, it was nothing. It had been worse before: broken ribs, concussion, broken arms in various places, a dislocated shoulder. She’d made up her mind not to let her father ruin her plans.
Suddenly, the intercom rang, making Ella jump. She clutched her heart and smiled gently again, shaking her head from side to side. She walked over to the intercom and pressed the button. She heard a voice almost immediately.
“Hey girl, time for shopping.” Ella pressed the button and let her friend into the building.
She was waiting for her in the doorway. She could hear her friend bounding up the stairs; it didn’t take her long to reach the first floor. She was always full of energy. A moment later, a confident blonde appeared. She was wearing tight black jeans and a loose blue blouse. Her jacket was unbuttoned, her hair loose. Her blue eyes narrowed at the sight of Ella.
“The old man again?” she asked as a matter of form, because she knew the truth perfectly well.
They’d known each other since they were five, since nursery. Always together, through primary school and now at sixth form. They wanted to study tourism, hoping to get away, to see the world. Both were good students, among the best in that average school. Of course, they had their moments of weakness, even periods of estrangement caused, naturally, by a boy, although they’d sworn to each other that it would never happen. Well, the heart isn’t a servant; it’s just an organ that doesn’t see or hear, only feels.
Viola lived in the neighbouring estate. She’d always been interested in boys; it was the only topic that led to arguments between the girls. She liked having a good time and being adored. She was a flirt and she knew it. Ella thought that such behaviour would cause her a lot of trouble one day, but her friend just laughed it off. Viola didn’t take comments like that to heart; in fact, she ignored them completely. She was sure that Ella thought that way because of her stupid father.
Now she stood next to Ella and looked at her sadly. Her friend was applying make-up to cover the bruises and any traces from the previous evening.
‘Maybe we should cancel the outing,’ she wrinkled her nose, waiting for a reply. She knew that Ella might be forcing herself for her sake, and she didn’t want that.
“What does it look like?” she asked, turning her face towards her. Viola focused on every detail.
“It’s not too bad, really. Just this lip,” she grimaced slightly, “it’ll be noticeable.”
Ella stared into the mirror for a moment, examining her lip, which was cut and swollen, but it really wasn’t much. It had been far worse, and the girl wanted to have a nice day.
“And the rest?” her friend asked uncertainly.
“My hand hurts and my head too,” she massaged the sore spot, “I’ll have a bump.”
Viola took a deep breath.
“Really, you should tell someone…” she tried, for the umpteenth time. Ella frowned in annoyance.
“I’ve already told you I don’t want to. I’ll turn eighteen and move out…”
“Ell, that’s still such a long time,” she interrupted, her face full of concern. “He’d have to give you money; where would you go…”
“He will,” she shouted over her. Viola looked at her friend with sympathy, and only after a moment did she ask.
“Do you think he’ll let you go?”
Ella nodded just once, without looking at her friend. Why on earth would he want to keep her here? She was certain he hated her. She’d even hoped he’d throw her out himself as soon as she came of age. As a lawyer, he knew perfectly well what he had to do and what he was allowed to do.
’Well, then?
“We’re going, we’re going,” said Ella quickly, snapped out of her reverie.
As she stepped out of the stairwell, Ella paused and asked.
“Is Ruben coming with us?” Viola bit her lip before looking at her friend.
“Well… Yes,” she replied slowly.
She’d met Ruben at a party Ella’d been invited to by one of the Willas. She obviously didn’t want to go, but Viola kept pestering her until the girl agreed.
The cream of the neighbourhood’s nightlife and underworld were there, but not only them. She recognised a few people whom she was sure had nothing to do with the Wills or what they were up to.
Ella introduced her friend to a few people, and before long Viola was dancing and making out with a muscle-bound bloke. Ruben was a tall, dark-haired, beefy type. Ella wasn’t particularly keen on that sort of lad. Ruben struck her as too cocky, vulgar and self-centred. He acted as if he were someone important, when he wasn’t. When Ella asked one of the Will brothers if he knew Ruben, he replied evasively that he was nobody important. Reading between the lines, she realised that the muscleman wasn’t particularly well-liked.
It soon became clear that Viola had her own opinion of the boy. Ruben had blinded her. She had even stopped visiting Ella. The only time they saw each other was at school, if she managed to turn up. Ella regretted having introduced them to each other, but it was too late. She was afraid she’d lost a friend. But one day, they happened to pass each other on the street. Ella didn’t say a word; she just lowered her head. However, as she passed Viola, the girl threw herself into her arms, apologising and crying. Ruben, who was there at the time, had absolutely no idea what was going on. It was only after a moment that he grasped the situation, when the girls started laughing at his terrified expression and utter helplessness. The girls swore to each other that they wouldn’t let a situation like this happen again. Ella still felt a bit of a grudge against Ruben, but her friend was more important.
“Right, then,” said Ella calmly, setting off again. Viola was surprised, but after a moment she smiled with relief. “Then hardly anyone comes near us,” the girl explained quickly.
