A Father’s Revenge. Kitty Neale
poof who was inside for having sex with a fifteen-year-old boy.
Of course Rupert protested that he was innocent, that the boy had told him he was older, and that like others before him he was just after his money. It was a comment that had piqued Kevin’s interest. He decided that if his mother didn’t cough up some dosh when he got out, it would be handy to add another string to his bow until he was able to carry out his plan.
Unlike most of the other inmates, Kevin had found that when he was desperate with frustration, any port in a storm was better than nothing. Of course he preferred women, but some of the pretty, effeminate types of men that passed through had been passable substitutes.
Kevin couldn’t call Rupert pretty, or effeminate, but he’d managed to perform and soon the soppy, soft old sod was blabbing about his inherited wealth, begging him to move into his home when he got out. Rupert had also thought Kevin’s religious act was hilarious, but he’d helped him to tweak the role, something that proved invaluable in getting his parole.
What he hadn’t bargained for was Rupert’s sulks when he hadn’t gone straight to Ealing when he got out, but he’d managed to placate him. The problem was that Rupert had been fleeced so many times in the past that he was distrustful and wary, his purse firmly shut, but it was time to change that, Kevin decided as he went downstairs. He had always got what he wanted from his mother, and he’d do the same with Rupert. It was just a matter of knowing how to handle him.
As he walked into the drawing room, Kevin asked, ‘How do I look?’
‘Gorgeous, darling,’ Rupert said, licking his lips. ‘I don’t know why you won’t let me come out with you tonight.’
‘I told you, it isn’t a social outing,’ Kevin lied, thinking that the last thing he wanted was to be seen with such an obvious poof. ‘I’m meeting an old friend who may be able to offer me a job.’
‘Is this a male friend?’ Rupert asked sulkily.
‘Yes, but don’t worry, if I’m late home I’ll try not to wake you. In fact, if this job comes up I’ll be able to find my own place.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Rupert said quickly. ‘I don’t want you to do that. You can stay here as long as you like.’
‘It’s good of you to offer, but I’ll only stay if I get this job. If I don’t get it and can’t pay my own way, I’ll move back in with my parents.’
‘But—’
‘Right, I’m off. I’ll see you later,’ Kevin interrupted as he walked out, leaving Rupert to stew on his words, sure that they’d have the desired effect …
Chapter Twelve
Adrianna had finished her act and was now taking off the heavy stage make-up before redoing her eyes with a lighter touch. Vince would be here in half an hour to pick her up and she didn’t want to keep him waiting. He’d get annoyed if she did. Adrianna remembered the slap he’d given her just for talking to a bloke outside the club who’d asked for directions, and shivered. Her father had been a violent man too, and her childhood an unhappy one. She had been dragged from borough to borough as her parents dodged one rent man after another. Or sometimes it had been the police – her father preferred petty thieving to an honest day’s work.
‘If I had your looks,’ said Lola, one of the other strippers, as she stroked Adrianna’s fur coat, ‘I’d get myself a sugar daddy too.’
‘If you’re talking about the boss, you’re welcome to him.’
‘Is that right? Well, maybe I should tell him you said that.’
‘I’d deny it, and if you think he’ll believe you, over me, then go ahead,’ Adrianna said with a show of bravado. ‘He’ll be here soon to pick me up.’
‘If I wasn’t due on stage I would,’ Lola spat before quickly leaving the poky dressing room.
Adrianna knew from Lola’s hasty departure that it was an idle threat and got on with removing her make-up, thinking that she had to learn to keep her mouth shut. She knew the other girls thought she had it made, that Vince gave her everything, such as the fur coat, but little did they know that she longed for him to find someone else – another girl to take her place.
Adrianna knew she wasn’t anything like the confident, haughty stripper who performed on stage. She was far from being in control: instead Vince controlled her and she was too afraid of him to break away.
Her mind shied away from Vince and drifted back to her childhood. Her parents had moved so many times, and she had been to so many different schools, that friendships had been hard to form, let alone sustain. She had been an only child, a lonely child, one who lived inside her head with dreams of one day becoming a dancer. Adrianna could remember to this day where that dream had come from, but not the place. It had been one of the many boroughs they had lived in, their flat cramped, but it had been close to a school of dance.
Like a magnet she had been drawn to the sound of a piano playing and had sneaked inside to peep round the door that led into a hall. A class was in progress, or perhaps some sort of rehearsal, young girls dressed in white tutu skirts and ballet pumps. Adrianna smiled. To her it had looked magical as they danced in a circle, their arms raised in pretty arches. The circle then opened to reveal another girl who appeared so delicate, almost ethereal as she performed a series of pirouettes and arabesques.
Adrianna could recall being so enthralled that she had hurried home and begged to go to the school of dance, but that night they had crept out of the flat in the early hours, dodging the rent and yet another landlord.
With a sigh, Adrianna now applied her lipstick. Becoming a dancer had been an impossible dream, and by the age of fourteen all she had longed for was the chance to get away from the life her parents led. Her chance had come when she was fifteen. She had seen a live-in job advertised and she’d been taken on, but by the time she was sixteen she hated being a skivvy. It was then that the offer of a job in a shop with a room above it had come up and she had jumped at the chance.
Once again her thoughts were interrupted when one of the hostesses walked in, a note in her hand. ‘One of the blokes out front asked me to give you this.’
Without reading it, Adrianna screwed the note into a ball and threw it into the bin. ‘You know I don’t mix with the punters.’
‘I told him that, but he offered me a good few bob to give that to you and I wasn’t about to turn it down.’
‘More fool him.’
‘Yeah, there’s a mug born every minute, but I’d best get back out front.’
Adrianna’s smile was tight. It was still impossible to form friendships, Vince kept her too close to him for that, but even if she had the opportunity she knew that other women were jealous of her looks. The other girls in the club were proof of that and as Adrianna looked at her reflection in the mirror, she wished that she had never met the woman who had tempted her into becoming what she had called an exotic dancer. She’d been Ruth Canning then, a name she refused to use now and nearly nineteen years old. She’d been hard up, sick of working in shops or factories and it was the magical word dancing that had drawn her in.
It hadn’t been easy, but she’d managed to pay the woman for lessons. She’d learned the craft and learned it well, but it was a craft she now hated. It wasn’t because of the leering punters. She’d grown used to them and could blank them out. She hated being an exotic dancer, a stripper, because it had eventually brought her to the attention of Vincent Chase.
Ready to leave now, Adrianna flung her fur coat around her shoulders, thinking that just as she had longed to get away from her parents, she was now desperate to get away from Vince. Of course any chance of achieving that seemed impossible – another impossible dream.
After being inside for so long without sight of a beautiful woman, Kevin had began to wonder if he’d exaggerated Adrianna’s attractions in his