JUDGED THREE
Credit to the brilliant Sweeet-as-Honey for her input here. And thanks for the reviews, as usual. They're much appreciated.
Honey swung round the pole, keeping a fixed smile on her face. She was tired and wanted to sleep when she got home, but at the moment she felt like a piece of meat in a butcher's shop.
I'll definitely go through with it tomorrow, she decided.
The next day she walked into the reception of Holby E.D. and made for the pleasant-looking man with dreadlocks.
"Hello, how can I help?"
"I need to see you on your own."
The man grinned but was still sympathetic.
"You'd be better off talking to a nurse or doctor, sweetheart. I'm just the receptionist."
"You're my dad… Noel."
Although she could have got that from his badge, Noel didn't like the way the girl had all but hissed the accusation. And damn it, she looked like Sarah.
"Why did you come looking for me?" he asked as she attacked the food on her plate voraciously.
She swallowed her mouthful and said bluntly:
"Because you owe me. You never gave Mum a penny towards my keep and you broke her heart… unless she lied to me."
Noel's face flushed, and Honey thought smugly that he knew it was true.
"I'm struggling to get by. I work in a coffee shop by day and I'm a pole dancer by night… oh don't look sanctimonious. If I hadn't told you who I was you could have just as easily been in that club tonight staring at my-"
"Honey, please. I want to help you. I do."
By the evening she had been able to put a deposit down on a nicer flat, and give both her landlord and smarmy boss at the club notice. She didn't know that Noel had sold his precious collection of figures from comics, that he'd taken years to amass, to give her the luxury she'd almost demanded. Nonetheless she felt guilty. She'd told Noel she wanted the money to start up a new business. Well; she'd do that too. After she was settled in her flat. She was sure the money Noel had given her would just be the tip of the iceberg.
The trouble with Honey was that she always wanted a little more.
More meetings with Noel followed and after these there would always be a large transfer into Honey's bank account.
It was only after the third that he began to ask awkward questions about the business. Had she arranged meetings with anybody? She had to confess that she hadn't.
"I know you're nervous, darling, but you need to start meeting people if you want to get that shop off the ground. You give me a couple of weeks, and I'll sort you out some telephone numbers of people who can help you get started.
Honey wisely came down with flu after that conversation.
When Noel realised that she'd not made a single call to the people he'd suggested she saw, Noel became a little less even-tempered. He stopped paying for expensive meals at their meetings and changed the venues to coffee shops. Not the well-known chains but horrid – at least in Honey's eyes- little places where the only choice of coffee was with milk or without.
Noel gave Honey an ultimatum. Give him proof she'd started the business or give him back his money.
"He's put his foot down" she told her friend Mercedes, in the park.
She had met Mercedes in the club where they'd danced. Mercedes had just been fired from the club because of her bad timekeeping and sharp tongue. She was also a known user. Honey was afraid of her but didn't know how to break off the friendship. When she'd not written or phoned her for ages, Mercedes had turned up on her doorstep, asking for handouts. If she didn't get them, she'd implied, she'd let the landlord of her fancy new flat know that Honey had slept with lowlife for 'pocket money'.
But Mercedes had come up with an idea this time. One that Honey dreaded but an idea all the same.
"Dad, I'm sorry."
Honey, looking almost demure, stood at the ED reception.
"So are you going to get your act together now and make me proud, darlin'?"
"Yeah. Will you meet me in the park tonight around six? I want to walk round there a bit to clear my head, see. Then I'll give you the first repayment like we've just agreed."
Noel, not smelling a rat, turned up at the park where Honey and Mercedes sat on the swings.
"Hi Dad, this is my friend Mercedes. She wanted to walk with me, that's nice, isn't it?"
Noel nodded briefly at Mercedes, not liking the look of her. He'd ask Honey to consider dropping her when he saw Honey alone.
"Let's go somewhere quieter; better for a cash handover" Honey suggested.
They walked and stopped at a quiet place by the lake, under the trees. And while Noel innocently held out his hand for the money, Mercedes was upon him, injecting a syringe into his arm. Mercedes ran off while Honey was too afraid to call the police. She stood dithering and precious time was lost. By the time the police arrived, Noel had taken the first steps to becoming dependent on heroin.
The police had arrested Honey, who had described Mercedes to them. Honey was let off with a caution; Mercedes received a short custodial sentence during which the withdrawal symptoms from her addiction tormented her, making her plan revenge. Noel had needed hospital treatment and had been too preoccupied with that to think about the money his daughter had owed him.
Mercedes broke into Noel's home while Honey was on a holiday financed by Noel's money, and had driven a scalpel into his gut. He managed to crawl to the phone but Mercedes stamped on his hand, breaking it, and waited for him to die.
When Honey came home, glowing and tanned, the police were waiting for her with devastating news. Her father had been murdered and his killer was still at large. Honey, terrified that she would be next, didn't even bother unpacking but arranged for a taxi to take her to her aunt's. The taxi driver had looked familiar.
"This isn't the way!" Honey gasped, suddenly really afraid.
"No, it's not" smirked Mercedes friend.
There was a flash of light, a pain in Honey's chest, and then she found herself sitting in the room with the other nine people and David.
"You had to be greedy" David remarked.
"I never meant for my dad to get hurt…"
"You knew what Mercedes was like. Well, maybe you'll meet her again, who knows? You'll find out when you choose your door, after the others have spoken."
"Please let me choose now!" she wailed.
"Wait your turn" David replied coldly, then:
"Time for you, I think, Ethan."
The blond man shuddered. The man with the dark curls put his hand towards his shoulder kindly, and David slapped his hand away.
"No comfort from any of you others, Ben. Ethan, speak to us. Confession is good for the soul… but will it save yours?"
