Where Memories Are Made (37 page)

The precious tin clutched tightly in her hands, Ginger was dashing across the courtyard en route from the kiosk to the Paradise, to round up Harold in the foyer and Jackie down in Groovy's, when she literally bumped into Harriet Bailey, the retail supervisor, on her way to see her. Harriet was a pretty woman in her mid-twenties who had started as a chalet maid with Jolly's on leaving school and had worked her way up over the years to the position she now held. She was engaged to one of the maintenance crew, a veteran of three seasons, and this was to be their last year here as they were getting married in November and would then be living with her parents while they found new jobs for themselves and somewhere to live.

As Ginger ran by, the other woman called out: ‘Where are you going? You're not supposed to leave the kiosk until I've checked the takings are correct and given you permission.'

Without stopping, Ginger called back, ‘Sorry, Miss Bailey, can't stop. I'm … er … desperate for the toilet … got the runs … blame Chef's stew. And any shortages in the till, blame Mandy. I never make mistakes handling money, ask my boss.' With that she disappeared from Harriet Bailey's view, leaving her staring in amazement.

A while later, Harold, Jackie and Ginger, all grave-faced, were in Mandy's chalet, standing side by side at the bottom of her bed. None of them could believe that such a pleasant, quiet young woman of nineteen, who had never had to be reprimanded in any way for the slightest misconduct throughout her three years of employment with Jolly's, had turned out to be a drug dealer. It seemed she had fooled them all.

Mandy herself was propped up on her bed, her thickly bandaged leg raised on a pillow, the magazine she'd been reading when her visitors surprised her lying open in her lap. She was staring frozen-faced at the biscuit tin that Harold, as the most senior staff member, was holding. He, not having been in a situation like this before, was grateful to let Jackie take the lead in speaking to the girl.

She said to Mandy now, ‘So what have you to say for yourself?'

Mandy continued staring blankly at her for another few moments before she frenziedly cried out, ‘That's not mine! I've never seen it before.'

Ginger snapped, ‘Stop lying, Mandy, of course it's yours. I found it hidden away under the counter in the kiosk where only you work. Admit it, you've been selling drugs. We've got the evidence here. People were mentioning you by name when they were asking me for stuff while I was covering your shift.'

‘This tin was the real reason you made such a fuss, insisting you were well enough to return to work after your accident. It wasn't because you were a conscientious employee. You were scared to death that whoever covered the rest of your shift might discover what you were up to. And, bad luck for you, that's just what we did,' Jackie shot at her.

Harold spoke up soberly. ‘Miss Fisher, you are aware of the seriousness of the situation you're in, aren't you? I hope you feel the money you made from your despicable trade was worth the loss of years of liberty. While you're sitting alone in your tiny cell, maybe you might spare a thought for the young people whose lives you have damaged by selling them your pills – such as the girl who will walk with a limp after the pill she bought off you made her believe she could fly.'

Jackie flashed a proud look at Harold. For the first time since she had known him he had actually volunteered to speak his mind openly instead of keeping his thoughts to himself for fear of looking a fool.

At being reminded of the seriousness of her situation Mandy was visibly shaking, her face a ghostly white, eyes filled with fear. She cried out, ‘I didn't want to do this. I didn't! You have to believe me. He made me …'

‘Who made you?' Jackie demanded.

Her expression turned to one of sheer terror then. ‘I can't tell you. He told me what he would do to me if I ever told anyone. And I know he will after what he did to me to make me sell stuff for him.'

‘This man … just what did he do to you, Mandy?' Jackie asked in a gentler tone.

The terrified girl look wildly back at her. It was apparent that memories of whatever he had done were still fresh, frightening and painful. Then Mandy's rigid shoulders sagged as she issued a deep sigh. It seemed she was actually relieved to be able to unburden herself after such a long time spent keeping the ordeal to herself. In a voice barely above a whisper she uttered, ‘He raped me.' While the three of them gawped at her in shock, she continued her story.

‘I had just finished my shift. It was early in the season, still dark at night, and I was heading back to my chalet. It was a Wednesday, I remember. Anyway, I was walking past the staff shower block when a man appeared out of nowhere it seemed to me, grabbed my arm and punched me hard in the stomach, warning me that for my own good I'd better not make a sound. He really hurt me and I could hardly breathe for the pain. I couldn't stop him from dragging me over to the woods by the old farmhouse. Next thing I knew I was on the ground and he was on top of me …'

She abruptly stopped talking to wipe away the flood of tears now pouring down her face, using the sleeve of her cardigan. Then she resumed speaking. ‘When he'd finished he was still lying on top of me. He was heavy and I could hardly breathe. He grabbed my face, squeezing it hard, and held a knife to my cheek, telling me that if I didn't do what he wanted me to then there'd be worse things ahead of me. Much worse. And he'd get me if I ever dared breathe a word to anyone about what he'd done.' Mandy gave a violent shudder. ‘His eyes … it was like the devil himself was looking at me. I knew he meant what he said. I was so scared I had to do what he wanted.

‘He would give me a supply of stuff to sell for him. Then he would come to the kiosk every few nights. On the nights I knew he was coming, I had to leave the stockroom door open, which I wasn't supposed to, so he could slip inside. I was to listen out for him. If I had customers, I had to make an excuse that I needed something from the stockroom and sneak the tin in there with me. He would check what I'd sold and that the money I was giving him was correct, replace anything I was getting low on, then give me a pat on the face, telling me what a good girl I was, before he went out.'

She fixed her attention on Jackie then. ‘You've always been so nice to me, I was desperate to warn you about him, what you could be getting yourself into, but then I worried you wouldn't believe me – or worse still that you were his partner in business too. It seemed safer just to keep quiet.'

Face screwed up in bewilderment, Jackie quizzed her, ‘But why would you want to warn me about this man or think I might be his partner? Are you telling me I know him?'

The shock of Mandy's reply almost knocked Jackie off her feet then. ‘He's your boyfriend.'

Both Harold and Ginger were rendered speechless by this shocking revelation.

Jackie's mind was screaming: This can't be true! Vic was a good, kind, honest man. She had never once witnessed him lose his temper, let alone attack a woman like Mandy had described.

Jackie shouted at her, ‘You're lying, using him as a scapegoat to cover up the real identity of the person behind this! How could you do this to a good man like Vic? Now you tell us the truth or I'll wring it out of you myself.'

Now that she had divulged her abuser's identity, terror of the possible repercussions filled Mandy. She frenziedly cried, ‘Jackie, please don't tell him I told you! Please, please, I beg you.'

Every fibre of her being told Jackie that this girl was not putting on an act, she was in terror for her life, but at the same time Jackie just couldn't believe that Vic was a sadistic violent thug who could use an innocent girl so callously.

‘I don't doubt you have been badly treated, Mandy, but I'm having trouble believing that Vic is the man you say he is. I need proof. Can you give me that?'

The girl miserably shook her head.

Ginger was praying that this shocking story about Vic wasn't true, for Jackie's sake. Her friend had only just got over the devastation of losing Keith to her mother. And now this … what would it do to her? Ginger was also finding it so difficult to believe that the man she knew could be the monster Mandy had described. Yes, they needed proof before they went any further with this. A thought struck her as to how they could obtain it.

‘If he is supplying you with drugs to sell then he'll have a stash somewhere handy to replace supplies, won't he?' she asked Mandy. ‘Have you any idea where Vic keeps it?'

Another shake of the girl's head.

Harold spoke up then. ‘Close to hand in his chalet, do you think? In a suitcase under his bed perhaps?' Then old insecurities crept back and he added quickly, ‘Or is that too obvious, do you think, and he will keep his supplies somewhere no one would ever think of?'

Ginger grinned and slapped his arm. ‘You're a genius, Mr Rose. Why would he need to hide something he doesn't believe anyone is looking for? If they're not in his chalet, let's try the band's van.'

Desperate to settle this matter one way or another, Jackie dug out the set of master keys she always kept on hand in case of emergency. ‘Yes, that's where we need to look. He'll be on-stage right now so this is the ideal opportunity. If Vic is innocent then I will explain to him why we invaded his privacy like this and the man I know will totally understand. But if he's guilty … well, then it won't matter what he thinks, will it?'

Mandy wasn't in a fit state to go anywhere so the other three hurried off to Vic's chalet, taking the biscuit tin with them. Unlike the other seasonal staff, the outside entertainers were deemed important enough to warrant chalets to themselves. Jackie had spent time in Vic's chalet before, occasions she had enjoyed, and as she entered it now ahead of the others she had to block these memories from her mind and concentrate on the search.

The chalet was clean and neat, with no clothes lying about but hanging on the rail against the wall between the beds or else folded in the bottom three drawers of the small chest. The bed was made. On the floor beside it stood a transistor radio. Jackie knew Vic constantly had it turned on when he was in, tuned to either BBC Radio One or Radio Luxemburg. His toiletries were all inside a large blue washbag. She momentarily wondered if he'd had a quick tidy round before he left for his session down at Groovy's tonight, in case she should come back with him later.

While Jackie and Ginger looked on, Harold squatted down in the space between the twin beds and looked under the one Vic used. Amongst a few other things, like shoes, some dirty clothes, and a pile of music industry publications such as
Melody Maker
and
NME
, were two suitcases. To Harold's mind, the smaller case was the most likely to be holding what they were seeking, and he pulled that out first. The women stood watching while he tried to open it, but it was locked. Harold picked it up. From its weight he could tell it had something in it. He shook it. A lot of small items from the sound of it. For Jackie's sake, Harold had been hoping that Mandy was using Vic as cover for the real culprit, but that hope was rapidly fading.

He got up and put the small case on the bed, saying, ‘I think we have just cause to pry this open.'

Jackie knew that Vic kept a metal bottle opener, the type that had a hook at the end of it, along with other bits and pieces that were useful to him in the top drawer of the small chest. She fetched it and handed it to Harold.

He hooked the end of the bottle opener inside one of the two T-shaped locks on the case and gave it a sharp yank. The lock sprang open. He then proceeded to do the same to the other lock. He opened the lid.

It took Jackie just one glance at the contents to have her doubts about Mandy's claims quashed.

Spinning on her heel, she fled from the chalet.

Leaving Harold to take charge of the case and its contents, Ginger dashed after her. She found Jackie huddled on her bed in their chalet, miserably sobbing. Having trouble keeping her own emotions in check at seeing her friend in such a state, Ginger went over to her, sat down on the bed next to her and slipped one arm comfortingly around her shoulders.

For a while they sat in silence together, Jackie sobbing, Ginger feeling helpless to ease her suffering. Finally Jackie was cried out enough to lift her head, look at Ginger through tear-blurred eyes and say, ‘You're going to offer up your usual cure for getting over a broken relationship, I suppose?'

‘Wrong, Jackie, I'm not.' She then said flippantly, ‘Only 'cos I'm sick of going out dancing at the moment, though. After a couple of nights in, there's a good chance I will be suggesting it again. Now I'm just here to let you know I'm sorry.'

Jackie managed a wan smile. ‘Thanks, Ginger.' Silence reigned for several minutes as Jackie sat gently sobbing.

‘I bet it's already around the staff that my boyfriend was dealing drugs,' she said finally. ‘Thank God I'd kept the fact that we were going to get married quiet or the gossips would really have had a field day out of that! Terry Jones is going to love it, me walking out on a date with him in favour of a vicious drug dealer.'

‘You won't stop the gossips, Jackie, so you might as well just grin and bear it. The talk won't last long. There will always be something else more juicy for the gossips to chew over in a place like this. You know that as well as I do.'

‘Yes, I suppose.' Jackie heaved a shuddering sigh. ‘I'm wondering now if Vic ever really loved me, Ginger, or just saw me as useful to him in some way. I mean, it was obvious that he was making good money through Jolly's, which would have ended with the band's contract at the end of the season, but with a wife working in the camp he would have had an excuse to come and go as he pleased and be able to keep operating his business from the kiosk, terrorising poor girls like Mandy into working for him.'