Scenes of a violent nature that some readers may find disturbing...

ACT TWO

PART ELEVEN

Hanssen stared at the picture of Fredrik on his desk. His expression was one of deep forlorn and regret. Yet there was no time for that right now as Hanssen's eyes fell upon his watch. It was getting very late. He yawned; it wasn't a heavy exaggerated yawn, just a yawn big enough to convey how tired he was. He'd been tired for over three years now, ever since he'd taken on the job at Holby City. If he had known then, what he knew now, he would never have accepted it; yet at the same time he didn't regret taking it. The three years had managed to be both the best and worst times of his life and he knew beyond all doubt that when the time came for him to take his leave; he would be leaving with memories he would treasure to his grave.

He cleared his throat and waited. There was no sound, no rasping knock. Just silence punctured only by Hanssen's melancholic breathing. His phone began to chirp and as he stared at the name flashing up on the screen, he placed it back down on his desk and turned away. The chirping died away surrounding Hanssen once more in eerie silence. His eyes fell on Fredrik's photo and for the tiniest of instances they flashed with an unkempt rage. He reached down and picked up the pristine picture holding it tightly in his hand until his fingers began to crumple. He stopped suddenly, letting go of the photo and watching as it fell in a crumpled heap on his desk.

"Maja," he murmured. "Maja, Maja, Maja." With a deft flick of his wrist Hanssen knocked the crumpled photo off his desk and into the wastepaper basket by his feet. For a second it looked as if he about to retrieve it; he turned away and ignored it. The noise his phone made at that precise moment came so suddenly that even the usually prepared Hanssen was taken aback. It chirped with such vigorous determination that Hanssen felt he could not safely ignore it.

"Hanssen," he answered with a brisk command to his voice. There was a pause whilst the man on the other end took a moment to blow his nose. Hanssen frowned, his eyebrows arching comically as he waited for the caller to regain his composure.

"Cunningham," Cunningham announced once he had finished sniffing unpleasantly. "Sorry about that, I seem to be coming down with something. Must be a bug going round." Hanssen made a noise that sounded like a cross between a tut and a hmm. His tongue curled around his teeth absentmindedly. "Anyway you're probably wondering why I'm calling you," Cunningham paused, deliberately leaving a gap in his speech for Hanssen to fill.

"The thought hadn't occurred to me," Hanssen retorted. Whilst in the past he would have made room for Cunningham's idiocy; he had no time for the odious little man now. He could tell Cunningham was pulling a disparaging expression on the other end by the way in which he coughed very succinctly.

"Anyway," Cunningham emphasised the third syllable; "I'm aware that your time here comes to an end tomorrow and I-"

"Yes?" Hanssen interjected.

"I just wanted to say how very sorry we all are to see you leave and we wish you every bit of luck in your next venture," Cunningham finished spouting the party line and fell silent.

"Thank you," Hanssen replied curtly. "Will that be all?"

"I have nothing further to add." There was a sharp click and Cunningham hung up. Hanssen's eyes flashed furiously again and he slammed the phone down on the desk so hard that a hairline crack appeared in the otherwise unblemished screen. He glanced down at the photo, its curled edges sticking out of the wastepaper basket. He blinked, clearing his eyes of water.

Jasmine lay face down on her bed; the light was off and she scrolled silently through the contacts on her phone. She stopped on M and stared at "Mum." Her fingers edged slowly towards the call button but at the last second they fell away. She looked at the time; it was getting late. There was no guarantee that she would answer anyway, thought Jasmine with a heavy sigh. She sat up, wincing, and cocked her head, listening out for any indication of her father's imminent return from the pub. Jasmine closed her eyes and pressed call. She listened as the phone rang but there was no answer. Jasmine didn't hang up, however. A sudden beep.

"You've reached Paula Burrows, if you would like to leave your name and phone number, I will get back to you as soon as I can..." Jasmine froze. What could she say? She hadn't spoken to her mother in over a year.

"Hi," Jasmine began weakly. "Hi, sorry, I mean um...it's Jasmine. Your daughter," she added as though it needed clarifying. "I need your help. Please mum." She hung up just as the front door below her opened with a terrifying bang.

"Jasmine!" Her father's dulcet tones drifted up to her room; his speech was slurred worse than ever. Jasmine listened carefully; there was more than one voice carrying from the hallway. "Jasmine answer me when I'm talking to yer!"

"Yes?" Jasmine called down uncertainly. She heard the sound of smashing china followed by a high pitched cackling laugh that Jasmine did not recognise.

"Oh yer are in then! I've got a couple o' me mates round." Jasmine groaned. This was the last thing she needed. "Yer can come down and join us." The colour in Jasmine's cheeks drained. "I said yer can come down!" Her father yelled and she knew there was no way out of it. She would have to endure his pleasant company.

"What did she say?" Mo nudged Jonny eagerly as they both sat in the staffroom, savouring the hard-earned mugs of coffee in front of them. The nightshift was a killer, especially for Jonny who longed to be with his family. He smiled up at Mo, watching the look of anticipation building in her eyes.

"I'll tell you later," he said tantalisingly. He wanted desperately to tell Mo the big news but it was just as much fun to tease her.

"Don't you do that to me Maconie!"

"Do what?" Jonny grinned and took a sip of coffee.

"Tease me! I know what you're up to!" Jonny bit his lip; he was trying not to laugh.

"I don't know what you're talking about Mo. I would never dream of teasing you."

"Oh come on Maconie, you've gotta tell me!" Jonny thought about this for a moment. It was fun to see the look of monumental desperation in Mo's eyes but at the same time he was desperate to spread the news. He took another sip of coffee and made his decision.

"Very well, I suppose you've waited long enough..." Mo was hanging on to his every word.

"Come on Maconie, don't drag this out, my break's almost over!" Jonny took a deep breath.

"She said yes." There was a moment of silence between the pair of them and then without warning, Mo grabbed Jonny and pulled him into a bear hug.

"Congratulations! I'm really pleased for both of you!" Jonny was laughing so hard he could feel the build up of tears in his eyes.

Jasmine flinched as a beer can went soaring past her head and landed unceremoniously beside the overflowing bin. Her ears were pounding from the unrelenting sound of club tunes that played at full volume throughout the house mingled with the drunken cries of her father and his friends.

"Si! Si!" Jasmine heard the woman with the high-pitched laugh calling for her father. There was no reply. "Si! Where are you man?" The woman staggered into the kitchen and went over to Jasmine. "You seen Si anywhere?"

"No," Jasmine said, flinching away from her.

"Why you scared? I ain't gonna hurt you." Jasmine didn't know what to say. This woman was a friend of her father's and as far as she was concerned that meant she was hardly someone she could trust. She certainly wasn't going to either.

"I'm just jumpy. It's nothing."

"Oh right, well if you see Si, tell him Ellen's looking for him?" Jasmine nodded. "Ta!" Ellen wandered away leaving Jasmine alone with her thoughts. She couldn't stay here much longer. She had to get out. Jasmine began to walk slowly towards the front door; her heart was thumping so hard in her chest. If her father caught her trying to leave she would be for it. Her pocket vibrated suddenly causing Jasmine to jump almost a foot up in the air. She took out her phone and with shaking hands, she answered it.

"Jasmine? It's mum." Jasmine breathed again.

"Hi," she whispered audibly.

"What's happened? You sounded scared," Paula seemed concerned but there was never any guarantee of it being genuine.

"I can't talk here, he might hear me," Jasmine said, looking over her shoulder to make sure her dad was nowhere within earshot.

"Jas what's going on? Is it your dad?" Jasmine clammed up. How much did she know? "Jas listen, I haven't got long. Has something happened with your dad?"

"Yes," Jasmine said, her heart sinking like a stone. She didn't hear the sound of footsteps marching unevenly towards her. She couldn't smell the stench of stale alcohol on his breath. Not until it was too late.

"What's he done-" Paula began but a slurred voice suddenly interrupted.

"Who yer talking to Jasmine?" Before Jasmine could answer, her father grabbed the phone out of her hands and stared at the caller. "What yer been telling her eh Paula?" His ears were glowing scarlet; Jasmine didn't think she had ever seen him look this angry.

"It's a private conversation Simon," Paula's voice sounded determined but she was no match for him.

"It don't look very private Paula," Simon slurred.

"You're drunk," Paula said disgustedly. "What sort of example is that to set your daughter?" Simon laughed heartily and Jasmine caught a whiff of his breath. She backed away quietly.

"You're in flaming India darling. Yer ain't even here or looking after her. So don't yer dare tell me what example I am or aren't setting. Okay?" His fists were clenched as he spoke; Jasmine viewed them with a wary look.

"You're a mess Simon. Sort yourself out."

"How about yer stay the hell out of my life? Yer not wanted here so butt out." His chest was heaving.

"Simon-" Paula began but Simon hung up. He tossed the phone to the floor and stamped on it until it was destroyed. Jasmine stood in a dejected silence. There was nothing she could do. Her father rounded on her next.

"Yer little fucking slut!"

"Dad!" Jasmine spoke out before she could stop herself. The next second he was on top of her, his fists raining down on her stomach.

Jac thumbed through a magazine; a quick look at the cover revealed that it was the latest issue of Holby Weddings Weekly! She gazed at the photos of all the different wedding dresses supposedly in fashion this year. From traditional white to ivory, none of them seemed to make much of an impression on Jac. She sighed as she turned the page and her eyes fell upon a brief paragraph describing the wedding dress hell of Doris from Southwest Holby. As she reached the end of the piece, Jac gave a look that clearly said what she thought of Doris. She turned the page but was greeted by an A4 picture of Doris squeezing herself into a dress that was five times too small.

"No wonder you couldn't find the right one. Look at the size of you," Jac muttered unkindly. Her lips curled into a sly smile; she knew Jonny would have ticked her off if he'd heard her. She had to admit her figure wasn't quite the same as it had been before she'd had Hollie; being stuck in this infernal chair wasn't helping either. Jac glanced down at her slightly chubby stomach and frowned. She would have to do something about this but Jonny did insist on cooking pasta all the time. At least she could be certain she would never reach the size of a bus or...well, Doris. She turned over to the next page and smiled. There was certainly a lot to prepare she thought as she tossed the magazine aside and reached down for the next one.

Every inch of Jasmine's body ached. She was trembling and her teeth chattered loudly. On the plus side, Jasmine thought, her father had at least left her alone for now. She hoped this would be the only beating tonight but she dared not risk it once his friends were gone. The front door opened. Jasmine forced herself to stop trembling so she could hear what was going on. It sounded like the exchange of goodbyes and her heart dropped like a stone through a wet paper bag. All she could do was wait. The tension was becoming unbearable.

The living room door opened. Simon leered at her, his eyes were bloodshot and he had to lean against the frame to keep himself steady.

"Fuck yer," he snarled. "I ain't doing anything yer say anymore." Jasmine stared at him. He was looking directly at her but it seemed as if he was talking to someone else.

"Dad?" She asked uncertainly, her voice faint. Simon staggered towards her.

"Yer a filthy whore!" Jasmine was shaking; she had never been so frightened before but there was no escape from it.

"Dad it's me, it's Jasmine." She knew she wasn't getting through to him as he lurched ever closer.

"Yer think I wouldn't find about him?" He was almost upon her. Jasmine could smell his putrid breath. "Yer slag!"

Hanssen answered the door and stared at the caller blearily. As he gradually regained focus, his mouth fell open in surprise.

"Maja?" He said. Maja smiled slightly.

"Aren't you going to invite me in Henrik?" She asked him determinedly. Hanssen blinked and stepped back, allowing Maja to come inside.

"What are you doing here?" Hanssen enquired with an arched eyebrow. Maja looked at him incredulously.

"Didn't you get my email?" Hanssen shook his head whilst Maja tutted under her breath. "Never mind, I'll explain it to you now."

"I don't mean to be-" Hanssen began but Maja cut across him.

"I'm sorry Henrik, I honestly don't mean to intrude but it's about our son." Hanssen's eyes flashed.

Jasmine backed up into the corner as far as she could but Simon kept coming at her. She could feel his sweaty hand under her shirt as his fingers twisted with her bra strap.

"Dad it's me, it's Jasmine. Please stop!" But he either wouldn't listen or couldn't. He seemed convinced that she was someone else. Jasmine shuddered as she felt her bra come loose.

"Yer mine Paula, mine!" At last Jasmine knew; he thought she was her mum. That made everything so much worse. Simon grabbed at her breasts, digging his fingernails into her skin. Pain seared through her but she was pinned to the wall.

"Dad please," her pleas fell flat as Simon continued his attack. Tears began to roll down her swollen cheeks. "Please..."

"Hello beautiful," Jonny said with a broad grin as he came into the bedroom. Jac looked up at him and smiled.

"Finally home then," she said, feigning annoyance. She watched as Jonny began to change into his pyjamas. "You need to start working out," Jac said as Jonny pulled the shirt over his shoulders. Jonny looked comically affronted for a second and then he just laughed.

"I'll have you know, my body is amazing."

"Yeah? Who told you that?" Jac was trying not to laugh.

"You actually," Jonny shot back at her.

"I was probably trying not to hurt your feelings," Jac's response was as quick as lightning.

"That's not what you said last night," Jonny said knowingly.

"Just get into bed."

"Well I'm not one to refuse a direct order," Jonny winked at her. Jac groaned.

"It's a good thing I love you," she began. "Because your flirting is the worst I've ever seen."

"It works though," Jonny said with a cheeky smile as he climbed under the duvet. "I love you too," he added.

"I've seen mice flirt better."

"Oh yeah?" Jonny asked. "I bet they can't do this though." He leant over and kissed her on her lips. They lingered for a while before turning it into something a little more passionate.

Jasmine was on the floor now; lying on her back and watching fearfully as her father lowered himself onto her. There was a cut above her eyebrow and blood dripped down into her eye as Simon undid his zip.

"Filthy whore. Disgusting little slut. I own yer!" She was so scared now as she tried to back away from him across the floor. "Stay where yer are!" Simon screeched and his arm pinned her where she lay.

"Stop it! Get away from me! Dad!" Jasmine tried to beat him off with her hands but he grabbed them and twisted her wrists until they almost snapped. She cried out but her mouth was suddenly covered.

"This is what happens to filthy fucking whores!" Simon smacked her head against the floor so hard that Jasmine could see stars in front of her eyes and she knew that it was all too late. There was nothing she could do; no escape from any of it. She closed her eyes as he kept her pinned to the ground. His alcohol stained breath was all over her and he no longer seem to care how much he hurt her. Jasmine could feel the tears rolling steadily down her cheeks; she couldn't stop them. Whoever this man was; he was no longer her father.

TO BE CONTINUED