Authors: Irvine Welsh
Crime (47 page)
Tianna looks at him, then the papers; her eyes now in iron focus. She takes the lighter and crouches, smoothing out her dress over her knees. At first it’s hard to see the flame in the bright sunlight, it’s only when she feels the heat on her hand and pulls it away that she realises she’s achieved ignition. They watch the papers warp and blacken for a bit, then in a silent procession, leave the gardens together.
Exiting the park, they head through an adjoining floral-wrapped iron gate, back to the Holocaust memorial. They return to the crescents of marble and the concourse of paving stone in front of the green hand. On Meridian Avenue, the traffic is now busier. Yet Lennox still has to look up at the blue sky and the apartments across the street with their verandas, in order to realise that he isn’t standing in a field in Poland. In fact, across the road is the Miami Beach Chamber of Commerce, which has its own visitors centre.
Tianna’s crying has intensified; her slow, halting sobs are breaking into loud wails. Then it dawns on him, from Trudi’s concerned reaction, that tears are streaming down his own face. He looks at Tianna and sees Britney Hamil, in that striking photograph, the one that found its way on to the cover of every newspaper in Britain. — I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, he says miserably.
Trudi is about to speak, but Tianna beats her to it.
— You were, Ray. You were the only one who ever was, she cries, embracing him, and he sees that this is a different child, from the other side of the world. And this one was alive as all children should be. He’s thinking of why we have stories, songs and poems; why we’ll always have aspirations for something we call love. And now he sobs in unison with her, in pain, but also infused with a simple gratitude for being free, clear and present, underneath a big green hand in the Florida sun.
Acknowledgements
MUCH LOVE TO
Elizabeth, as always, for the emotional and practical assistance (research, driving me all over the Sunshine State and telling me my first draft was crap). Big thanks again to Robin, Katherine, Sue, Laura and everybody else at my publishers for their (apparently endless, but I won’t push it) indulgence of me.
A shout of appreciation to my fellow Scottish pensmiths, Andy O’Hagan and Alan Warner, for unintentionally inspiring this title during a relaxed drink in one of my favourite hostelries in Wicker Park, Chicago. To Mike and Dawn Quinn of Punta Gorda, Florida, for their kind hospitality as well as their willingness to share their local knowledge of south-west Florida. To John Gee, John Hood and Janet Jorgulesco, three native South Floridians who helped this Edinburgh chap feel at home in Miami.
I chose, for obvious reasons, not to research this subject on the Internet. Instead, I limited my sources to published papers in academic, social work and clinical psychology texts, as well as self-help material. I spoke to survivors of childhood sexual abuse; their tales were as harrowing as their courage and strength were inspiring. One UK book that I found particularly invaluable as a starting point and continual reference was
Breaking Free: Help for Survivors of Sexual Abuse
by Carolyn Ainscough and Kay Toon. While I respect their obvious need for anonymity, I have to record the generosity of some police officers and social workers in the states of Illinois and Florida who gave time and information on the modus operandi of organised sexual abuse rings, and their help was greatly appreciated.
Eternal gratitude to the usual mobs in Edinburgh, London, Dublin, Chicago, San Francisco and elsewhere. Everybody who
has
either praised or slagged me: thanks for taking the time to care. For those who are indifferent: much gratitude for leaving me in peace.
Bologna, FLA, is a construct of my imagination. I drew heavily on the south-west Florida towns of Naples, Punta Gorda and Fort Myers as physical inspiration for this composition.
Sadly, in real life, the greatest of ills tend to happen closest to home. Most abuse of young persons – sexual or otherwise – takes place within the family or the community. Organised underground sex-abuse groups and cults, while disturbing and headline-grabbing, are not a widespread problem in modern society. This book, as a work of fiction, does not mean to imply that they are.
Irvine Welsh, Miami Beach, Florida
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Published by Vintage 2009
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Copyright © Irvine Welsh 2008
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First published in Great Britain in 2008 by Jonathan Cape
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