|
*** CUSTODY SUITE - 8:05 PM *** |
| |
|
| |
Bob gently taps at the detention cell door, a plate of food and a cup of tea in his hands. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Are you awake miss? |
| |
Bob doesn't get a reply so he carefully unlocks the door and lets himself in. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well you're certainly nicely rugged up, aren't you? Are you feeling a bit more co-operative now? |
| |
Polly looks up from her corner spot, getting slowly to her feet. |
|
Polly Page: |
No, why? |
| |
Bob sighs and puts the plate and drink down. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Because you're not getting out of here until you tell us your name. |
| |
Polly leans against the cell wall, her arms tightly folded. |
|
Polly Page: |
Well then I'll just stay here, won't I. |
| |
Bob shrugs. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
That's your decision. I'll have to call social services though and you'll end up in a home. You might never see your parents again. |
|
Polly Page: |
Good. |
| |
Polly stares challengingly at the sergeant. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
They'll be worried about you. Don't you care about them? |
|
Polly Page: |
No. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Your decision. So where are you from? Your accent suggests that it's somewhere nearby. |
|
Polly Page: |
Maybe, what do you care anyway? |
| |
Polly paces over and sits on the edge of the mattress. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well come on then. Even if I don't know your name, at least let me know where you're from so I know who I'm dealing with. |
| |
Polly shrugs. |
|
Polly Page: |
Well I'm from Sun Hill, I guess. What difference does it make? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
So you know the area well? How long have you been on the streets? |
|
Polly Page: |
Couple months, don't keep count. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Two months? Six? Ten? |
|
Polly Page: |
Two or three, I guess. So what? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well what have you been doing with yourself in that time? |
| |
Polly looks away. |
|
Polly Page: |
This and that. Look, what's with all the questions! Just let me outa here, won't ya? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
You're not going anywhere until I know who you are so get used to the idea, okay? You can bring this to an end any time you want just by telling me your name. |
|
Polly Page: |
Yeah and then you'll send me home, I ain't having that! I'd sooner stay locked up here. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
What's so bad about going home? Don't your parents love you? |
| |
Polly scoffs. |
|
Polly Page: |
Yeah, right. Parents? |
| |
Bob takes the hint. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
So your Mum and Dad aren't both at home? |
|
Polly Page: |
That's one way of putting it, I guess. |
| |
Polly begins chewing on her fingernails. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well tell me about it. If it's really that bad then we won't send you home, at least until we've spoken with whoever it is that's looking after you. |
|
Polly Page: |
I ain't taking the chance either way, forget it! |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Fine. Do you live with you mother or your father? |
|
Polly Page: |
Mother, not that you'd know. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well what's so bad about your Mum that you don't want to go home to her? Have you two quarrelled? |
|
Polly Page: |
Bit hard when you only see her once a week, ain't it. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
And why is that? Isn't she at home much? |
|
Polly Page: |
She works all the time. Will you just quit with all the questions! I told you I'm not going home and I don't much wanna talk about it neither. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Sometimes talking about things is the best thing you can do. If you've run away from home there is obviously a reason behind it, I'm just trying to get to the bottom of that. |
|
Polly Page: |
I left home because I wanted to and I've been doing fine on me own. All that stupid copper's fault for bringing me in here! |
| |
Bob's eyes sparkle with interest. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
You seem to have a grudge against the police... Why is that? |
|
Polly Page: |
Well all they wanna do is lock you up in cells, or put you in homes and I don't need any of it. Now when are you gonna let me outa this place! |
| |
Polly pushes herself off the mattress and paces around the room, frustrated. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
When you tell us your name. It's that simple! Are you going to tell me? |
|
Polly Page: |
What, then you'll let me go? Yeah, right. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Maybe, maybe not. It all depends on what your mother tells us. |
|
Polly Page: |
Like what? If she wants me back or not? That what you mean? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well obviously I don't know the circumstances of the case so I can't say what will happen. I'm just the Custody Sergeant, my job is to find out who you are and get you out of here as quickly as I can. Now, will you tell me who you are? |
|
Polly Page: |
And then you'll promise you'll let me outa this place? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
No, I promise I'll contact your mother and after that maybe we'll let you out. |
| |
Polly frowns across at the sergeant, her face slowly crumpling in helplessness as she starts crying. |
|
Polly Page: |
But I ain't done nuffink, I just wanna get outa this place. Please? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well the first step is to let me know your name. |
| |
Polly sniffles slightly, thinking fast. |
|
Polly Page: |
Mary. |
| |
Bob looks pleased but cautious. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Mary... Do you have a last name? |
| |
Polly hesitates for a brief moment. |
|
Polly Page: |
Newman. |
| |
Bob's eyebrows narrow slightly. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
You sure? You don't sound too confident about that. |
|
Polly Page: |
Look, you wanted me name, right? So now you can let me outa this room! |
| |
Bob walks outside, closing the door behind him. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Eat up and enjoy the tea, think of it as room service. I'll see if you're reported as a Missing Person and we'll go from there, okay? |
| |
Polly curls back up on the corner of the mattress, not replying. Bob paces out to custody reception and takes a seat back behind the desk, finishing off his now cold cup of tea. Viv walks into the custody area and looks across at Bob, her head bowed slightly. Bob looks up after hearing the door open. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Anything I can do for you, Viv? |
|
WPC Martella: |
I heard you've got a little girl in here? At least, it was canteen gossip but I was wondering if it was true. |
| |
Bob shrugs, picking up his clipboard. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Well it's true, but little isn't exactly the word I'd use. What's got you so interested, anyway? |
|
WPC Martella: |
Just a thought I had. Do you know her name? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Mary Newman, or so she said. Why? |
|
WPC Martella: |
Oh I see. Nah, it's okay Sarge, she's not the girl I'm interested in. |
| |
Viv turns around and leaves the custody area. Bob follows after the young WPC. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Oh Viv, have you got a moment? |
| |
Viv shakes her head slowly. |
|
WPC Martella: |
I'm kind of busy at the moment Sarge. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Oh, it's just, I was wondering, if you get the chance, could you have a chat with the girl. I can't seem to get any sense outa her. Won't tell me a thing. |
| |
Viv shrugs and paces back into custody, looking across at the sergeant. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Well, what do you know so far? |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
Young girl, about twelve I'd guess but who talks like a twenty-year-old. Very grown up, quite streetwise. Ran away from home where she lived with her mother and seems to be very sure of herself, It took me ages just to get her name out of her. |
| |
Viv nods. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
I thought that with your tact and sincerity you might have a bit more success than I've had. |
| |
Bob opens the detention room door and lets Viv inside, half-shutting it behind her. |
|
Sgt. Cryer: |
I'll be nearby if you need me. |
| |
Bob shuffles off back to his desk. Viv notices the child sitting in the corner of the mattress. Polly looks up at the woman who has entered the room. |
|
Polly Page: |
If you're from the social, you can just piss off and go back to the hole you crawled out of... |
| |
Polly trails off at the sight of the policewoman. Viv lets her jaw drop open. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Polly! |
| |
Viv is momentarily lost for words as she rushes across to the young girl. |
|
Polly Page: |
Oh, it's you... Well you can piss off too! |
|
WPC Martella: |
Polly? What's wrong? |
| |
Viv places her hand softly on the girl's back. |
|
Polly Page: |
Just get lost would ya? And get your hands off me! |
| |
Polly pushes Viv's hand aside. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Well, what happened to you? Where've you been? |
|
Polly Page: |
What do you care? Go back to giving out parking tickets and leave me alone. |
| |
Viv softens her voice. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Polly, I was so worried about you. Why'd you run away? |
|
Polly Page: |
Why do you think? You were going to send me back and Beech woulda finished me off for good. You didn't care about me, all you cared about was locking people up. |
| |
Viv shakes her head. |
|
WPC Martella: |
No, Polly. I was never going to send you home. What made you think that? |
| |
Polly pouts, her bottom lip trembling. |
|
Polly Page: |
You said I was gonna have to go back and see Mum and Ian again and if Greg wasn't locked up I would have to see him too. When he gets out of jail he'd come after me and cut me up. No, I ain't telling you nuffink! |
| |
Polly closes her eyes, praying that Viv will leave the room. Viv stays silent for several moments, deciding to change the subject. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Well you're back here now. Where have you been all these months, you can at least tell me that much. |
|
Polly Page: |
No, it'll only get me friends into trouble. |
|
WPC Martella: |
No it won't. Not unless they've done something they oughtn't. Where've you been living all this time? |
|
Polly Page: |
With me mates. I ain't telling you nuffink about them. |
| |
Polly answers resolutely and with a note of finality in her voice. Viv sighs and looks at the girl slowly for several moments. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Are you alright? Do you need anything? |
|
Polly Page: |
I just want to be left alone. Is that so hard to understand? Go back to your do-gooding and leave me out of it! |
|
WPC Martella: |
Polly, you can't be happy like this? I promise I can help you. You let me help you before, what's so different now? |
|
Polly Page: |
Times have changed. You didn't want to help me, you just wanted to help your career along. |
| |
Viv grabs Polly's upper arm, looking directly at her. |
|
WPC Martella: |
That's crap and you know it! I care about you and I did all along! Now why is that so hard for you to get into your thick head? |
| |
Polly looks shocked and shaken by Viv's sudden actions. |
|
Polly Page: |
Leave me alone! I've been beaten up enough these past few weeks... |
| |
Polly bursts into tears. Viv loosens her grip on the girl's arm, lowering her voice. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Come on Poll, what's all this about? |
|
Polly Page: |
It's nuffink. Just go away and let me cry in peace. |
| |
Polly's cheeks are wet with tears. |
|
WPC Martella: |
You know I can't do that. |
|
Polly Page: |
Yeth you can! |
| |
Polly folds her arms defiantly. Viv pauses, speaking softly. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Now what did you mean when you said about having been beaten up? |
|
Polly Page: |
I was beaten up. So what? It's what you expect out there on the streets. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Is that where you've been these last few months? Living rough? |
|
Polly Page: |
Well I ain't exactly been living it up in Buck Palace have I? |
| |
Polly speaks bitterly. Viv shakes her head sadly. |
|
WPC Martella: |
So how did you end up in the park where the officer found you? |
|
Polly Page: |
What does it matter? You still don't care about me, all you're interested in is locking people up! |
|
WPC Martella: |
Polly, you don't really believe that, do you? Why would I have spent all that time with you before if I didn't care? I went to your house, you know. I found your diary and the bracelet you told me about. I know you were telling the truth. I believed you all along. |
| |
Viv slips an arm around the girl's shoulders. Polly looks shaken. |
|
Polly Page: |
You've read my diary? You had no right, that's private! That's the one thing that other people can't get to and you've gone and read it... |
|
WPC Martella: |
I only glanced at it. I wanted to try and understand why you ran off before. I wanted to find you more than anything, so I checked if you'd left any clues in your room. Polly, you do believe that I was trying to help you all along, don't you? |
|
Polly Page: |
I dunno what to believe any more. |
| |
Polly bows her head and tears fall onto her blanket. Viv clasps her hands around the girl and hugs her tightly. |
|
WPC Martella: |
Oh Poll, please just let me help, yeah? |
| |
Polly looks up into Viv's eyes, the teardrops still staining her pale cheeks. |
|
Polly Page: |
No... I can't. Viv, I'm ashamed of myself. I don't want you to be ashamed of me too. |
| |
Viv strokes the top of the child's head. |
|
WPC Martella: |
I'd never be ashamed of you, Poll. You've been so brave through all of this. None of this is your fault. |
| |
Polly slowly tightens her small fists. |
|
Polly Page: |
It's all my fault. I knew what I was doing and I still went along with it. I did the whole tomming thing again but this time from choice, not because Greg made me do it. |
| |
Viv nods slowly with a sigh. |
|
WPC Martella: |
So you were on the game? Is that what you've been doing these last months? |
|
Polly Page: |
Shacked up with a guy called Tom, he couldn't take over fast enough from Greg. Not to mention the other toms, some of them right bitches. |
| |
Polly shudders slightly at the memory of the house. |
|
WPC Martella: |
So he was your pimp? Where were you living? |
|
Polly Page: |
I dunno, in a house somewhere. He had clients brought up to us, or sometimes we'd work the streets. It was a well-organised operation and I was Tom's favourite, or at least I was until... |
| |
Polly trails off. |
|
WPC Martella: |
At least until what, Poll? |
|
Polly Page: |
Until he dumped me a few days ago. Kicked me out. |
| |
Polly's face has become ashen. |
|
WPC Martella: |
And he beat you up? Is that what you meant before? |
| |
Viv gestures to the dark bruise on Polly's cheek. Polly sighs and starts to hesitantly tell a long and convoluted story to the patient police officer. |
|
Continue...
|
