Mummy’s Little Girl: A heart-rending story of abuse, innocence and the desperate race to save a lost child
The moving, unforgettable new novel from the author of the bestselling inspirational memoir ‘The Little Prisoner’Life was never going to be easy for little Dani Sinclair…On a cold winter's night, a heavily pregnant teenage girl appears at a London hospital. She refuses to give her name, and gives birth to a baby girl. But immediately after the birth, she disappears, leaving the baby alone in the hospital. The child, named Dani after the midwife who delivered her, is put up for adoption.Twelve years later Dani is living with a foster family. A vulnerable and unworldly girl, Dani is an inconvenience and always being blamed for things that aren't her fault. After being wrongly accused of performing an act of petty childish spite, Dani is sent to a children's home. The home is full of difficult children, who bully and victimise Dani. Terrified of both the children and the grown-ups, she runs away.Dani spends several nights on the streets of London, begging for food. When a stranger offers her something to eat and a place to sleep, she accepts gratefully. But what she does not know is that this man is a brutal pimp who tries to drag Dani into a violent, drug-fuelled world of prostitution. Soon she is plunged into an unimaginable nightmare of abuse that she truly believes will never end.But there is one person out there searching for Dani; one person who has her best interests at heart; one person who will do anything to save her. It's just a matter of whether she can find her in time…
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JANE ELLIOTT
Mummy’s Little Girl
A desperate race to save a lost child
Contents
Title PageFactPrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyEpilogueCopyrightAbout the Publisher
In the UK alone, a child goes missing every five minutes.
Some of these children are found; others become
the focus of high-profile media campaigns.
A few are never seen again.
December 1996. London. Evening
The pains had started just after lunch – not that mealtimes meant much in her house.
Had little Hayley Clark known what the sudden rush of water was, the one that had dampened her sheets in the small hours of the morning, she might have known to expect the contractions sometime soon. But she didn’t. No one had explained it to her. There had been no visits to the doctor; no scans; no midwives to reassure her or tell her what was likely to happen, or when. It would have been unthinkable to wake her mum and admit that her bed was wet and she didn’t know why, just as it would have been unthinkable in the first place to tell her that she thought she was going to have a baby.
It had been five months ago that Hayley had realised she was pregnant, a few weeks after she had met the boys who lived at the other end of the estate. She had left the flat out of necessity that summer’s evening – Mum and Dad were shouting at each other, and she didn’t know how it would end. The arguments didn’t always spill over into her tiny bedroom, but they had happened enough times for her to feel scared to the pit of her stomach whenever she heard raised voices. Strangely it was her mum she feared more than her dad in those situations. Dad would just shout at her, telling her she was lazy and ugly and why the hell didn’t she get out there and find some fucking friends, before stumbling into bed to sleep off the cheap booze. Mum, on the other hand, was more physical: she would pull her long, jet-black hair and hit her. One time she had given her a black eye, and Hayley had to pretend to the teachers at school that she’d been in a fight on the way home. Mum would hurl abuse at her too, but unkind words she could deal with. It was the punches that hurt.
That night back in the summer, she had sensed it would be in her interests to leave the house. They were drunker than usual, for one thing – it was the time of the month when they had more money, so there was no danger of running out of drink. And she had heard them talking about her. Yelling about her, actually. Hayley was only young, but she knew what that meant, and was smart enough to get out of there before things turned nasty for her.
She hadn’t needed a coat – it was a warm evening – and so she slipped out of the flat wearing only the same jeans and T-shirt that she always wore, knowing that Mum and Dad would probably not even hear the door. She walked down the concrete stairwell, avoiding the nasty smell that always made her feel a little bit sick, and emerged at the front of the tower block. It was late, but still just light, and little crowds of people were standing around in cliques. Some of them were smoking, some of them were drinking. A lot of them had music blaring from their car stereos.
Hayley didn’t like coming out here by herself, especially at this time of night. During the day there was a police presence, but come nightfall even they knew to steer clear of the estate. When they did show up, they tended to ignore most of what was going on. Cleaning this place up was like pushing sand uphill, Hayley had heard a grown-up say once.
It was scary. None of the groups of people seemed to talk to each other; none of them looked as if they dared talk to each other. Hayley walked quickly, with her head down, hoping that she wouldn’t be noticed.
Hayley was the sort of girl people didn’t normally notice. But that was about to change.
A wolf-whistle filled the air. Hayley felt her stomach lurch and she kept her eyes on the pavement as she continued walking, desperately hoping that the whistle hadn’t been directed at her. Almost immediately, though, it was followed up by the sound of footsteps, and before Hayley knew what was happening, two boys were standing in front of her.
They were older than her – seventeen, maybe, or eighteen – and Hayley thought she knew their faces. They were definitely the sort of boys she would go out of her way to avoid, but that wasn’t saying much: Hayley went out of her way to avoid most people. They both wore baggy jeans and hooded tops; the only thing that really made them look different from each other was that one of them had a tooth missing.
‘Where you going?’ the toothless one demanded. He chewed noisily on some gum.
Hayley almost automatically looked down at the ground. She said nothing.
She could sense the two boys grinning at each other. ‘Going to come and hang with us?’ the other boy said. It didn’t sound much like a question.
