The Victim Page 17

‘We’re coming over,’ called out Rufus and before she could think of making an excuse, he leaped onto a boat, followed by his companion. They jumped over the next vessel and the next so that before within a few seconds they were standing in front of her, laughing, accompanied by furious shouts from the boatmen behind.

  ‘I’ve a feeling that we night just have done something illegal,’ said the dark-haired one.

  Rufus laughed. ‘That would be a first for you.’ He turned to Georgie. ‘My brother’s a stickler for the rules. Sam, this is Georgie, the girl I was telling you about.’

  Brother? But they looked so different.

  Georgie felt a little flutter. Partly because of what Rufus had said – hadn’t she broken the rules big time? – but also because it was hard not to stare at the brother. He didn’t take her breath away as Joly had done at first glance, but there was something about him that held her gaze; made her feel that this was a man who she could be comfortable with.

  Yet he was married! After all, the last time she’d seen Rufus, it had been for his brother’s stag night.

  ‘How was your wedding?’ she asked.

  Instantly, Sam turned away.

  Rufus was shaking his head. ‘Wrong question!’

  What had she said?

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Sam quickly, turning back. ‘I’m going to have to get used to this.’

  Rufus snorted. ‘I told you, bro. If a girl hasn’t got a sense of humour, she’s not worth it.‘

  Georgie was becoming increasingly confused, something that neither boy could fail to spot.

  ‘She didn’t like her fiancé cavorting with a ladyboy,’ grinned Rufus.

  ‘You know there was more to it than that.’ Sam shook his head again, as though telling himself off.

  ‘For pity’s sake, Sam. It was your stag night. If you’re not allowed to let your hair down, when can you? Besides if anyone’s to blame, it’s me!’

  He grinned again; just like a naughty schoolboy. ‘We paid a ladyboy to be handcuffed to him for twelve hours. By the end, they were both nearly killing each other.’ There was another grin. ‘Can you imagine it? They even had to go to the loo together and …’

  ‘That’s enough.’ Sam’s face was puce.

  How horrible. Georgie shivered at the image this evoked.

  ‘Then we took him to one of those ping pong clubs where the girls put …’

  ‘Rufus.’ Sam’s eyes were shining with anger now. ‘I said that’s enough.’

  ‘OK. Keep your hair on. Pity you didn’t do the same with your clothes …’

  ‘Rufus!’

  Shrugging, the younger boy turned to her. ‘Do you get lots of stag dos at the parlour?’ He placed a good deal of emphasis on the word ‘parlour’.

  Georgie shook her head. ‘We’re not that kind of place.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Rufus’ grin was wry this time instead of beaming with amusement.

  ‘No. Sapphire and Emerald just do massages.’

  Sam’s colour seemed to have died down. ‘That’s not what I’ve heard. My brother told me you were working in a massage parlour. We’ve both been really worried. There are quite a lot of European girls who get sucked into that kind of thing, you know. Ladyboys can look very convincing.’

  Suddenly, Georgie’s head began to whirl. Ladyboys. She knew about them, of course. You couldn’t work in Bangkok without being aware of strong, muscular-looking women with deep voices. Apparently taking the right hormones could produce their convincing-looking breasts.

  But Emerald and Sapphire were women. They looked feminine, every inch of them. Except … her mind wandered to the massage sessions. ‘Not below the waist,’ Sapphire had giggled. Was it really possible …?

  And what about the police officer who turned up three times every week? Had she been incredibly stupid? Was that why they didn’t like her going out too much or having friends? Because they were running an illegal brothel? A homosexual one?

  ‘Maybe, I’ve been a bit naïve …’ she began.

  Rufus laughed but Sam was serious.

  ‘There’s another thing.’ He glanced around nervously. ‘The firm’s got close links with some consulate staff out here and word has it that there’s going to be a big clean-up of places like … like the one you’re working for. The bank has got a spare flat for visitors. I’m sure that I could get permission to put you up – keep you out of all that.’

  Why was he concerned? He hardly knew her.

  Sam seemed to read her mind. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m being pushy. I’m aware we’ve only just met. But it doesn’t seem right that a nice girl like you should be in a position like this.’

  Rufus raised his eyebrows. ‘Ever the gentleman, my brother. Apart from when he’s shackled up to a ladyboy, of course, or chatting up a ping pong stripper. All right, I’ll stop there.’ Then he too looked serious. ‘Actually, Sam’s right, Georgie. You do need to be careful.’

  ‘I know that.’ Her voice came out more abrasive than she’d meant it to. ‘But I need a job.’

  ‘We can help you out.’

  But what would he want in return?’

  ‘No strings attached,’ added Sam quickly. ‘Please, Georgie, at least think it over. You don’t want to get mixed up with those kind of places. I’ve heard some horror stories. There are some people here who prey on vulnerable girls. They suck you in and won’t let you go.’

  Georgie didn’t want to say that this is exactly what she was experiencing. But even so …

  ‘Look, here’s my number.’ Sam pushed a card into her hand. ‘Call any time you need to.

  Then, almost as fast as they had arrived, the brothers went, swallowed up in the crowds. But when Georgie looked back through the crowds in the market, she could see Sam looking back too.

  ‘You been gone long time.’ Sapphire’s eyes were dark with disapproval. ‘You say one hour.’

  Georgie felt as though she was late for school.

  ‘I’m sorry. There was a long queue at the market.’

  There was an impatient cluck of the tongue. ‘You talk to friends. You were seen.’

  Her repentance was replaced with annoyance that she’d been followed. The boy. She should have known.

  ‘I’m entitled to have friends if I wish.’

  The eyes narrowed. ‘We pay you to work.’

  ‘I am entitled to time off.

  Never before had Georgie stood up for herself like this. The effect wasn’t what she’d hoped.

  ‘You lucky we keep you here.’ This time it was Emerald who spoke. ‘You not who you say. We know.’

  A cold fear shot through her. How could they know?

  ‘Your passport name, she does not match the other names in your bag.’

  The other names? Suddenly Georgie remembered the nametape which was sewn into her shorts. The same ones she had worn when she’d run away from the others back on the island. The girls had taken them away from her, washed them. They would have seen it. Georgie Smith. Not Georgina Peverington-Smith.

  ‘I don’t use all my names all the time,’ she said, shrugging.

  ‘Or maybe you have someone else’s passport,’ retorted Sapphire snidely.

  No, Georgie wanted to say. But the lie stuck in her throat. There had been too many lies already.

  Then the woman’s face softened. ‘You be good to us and we be good to you.’

  After that, Georgie felt even more scared than ever. But what could she do? On more than a few occasions, she considered ringing the number which Sam had given her. Yet each time, she thought of the policeman client. What if the women reported her? It was too scary to think about.

  Over the next few days, and then weeks, she felt increasingly frantic. Trapped. But on the outside, she had taken care to remain calm as if she enjoyed working for the women. Certainly, she was learning the tricks of the trade. She had proved to be an adept masseuse. At the same time, she had tried to use the opportunity to see if Rufus and his brother were right.
Was it possible that Sapphire and Emerald really were ladyboys? But each time she tried to massage below their waists they pulled her up sharply.

  It was as if they knew that if she found out the truth, she would go. They needed her, that was certain. The Englishwoman, as she was known, was ringing in more and more custom. ‘Even better when you do massage,’ grinned Sapphire.

  Georgie felt a sense of panic. As long as she wasn’t expected to do anything else.

  Eventually, her patience paid off and she was finally allowed out to the market once more. ‘One hour and no more,’ instructed Sapphire.

  Feeling like a prisoner out on bail, Georgie took care to keep an eye on the time. She had learned to do this without her watch, which she’d lost during the tussle with the boy who’d killed Georgina. There were always clock chimes she could follow from somewhere.

  Sapphire couldn’t be cross this time. After all, she’d reached the street just as the bronze hand on the clock in the square reached five. Plenty of time to get ready and …

  What was that noise! Aghast, she stared at all the people milling outside the parlour. There were police there too – but they didn’t seem to be acting like clients. Instead, they had guns in their hands and were shouting. Some of the crowd was cheering them on. Others were yelling words that, although incomprehensible to Georgie, sounded like abuse.

  Out of habit, she touched the shell in her pocket for safety. Then she froze. Four more policemen were escorting two women out of the parlour. Sapphire and Emerald. The boy was behind them too, handcuffed. He spat twice on the ground as he was pulled along and pushed into a car.

  ‘Word has it that there’s going to be a clean-up of places like yours.’

  Sam’s words came back to her. So he hadn’t been exaggerating. Her bosses were being shoved into another car now, behind the boy. There was a rev of the engine as it sped past. But as it did so, two faces looked out of the window. Straight at her. Sapphire. And Emerald. And from the identical glare, it was clear that they thought she was responsible for this.

  Meanwhile, the crowd were teeming in through the door, coming out with armfuls of costumes: beautiful dresses which the women had worn, including Georgie. There were wigs too. Long, dark wigs. She’d always thought their hair was natural.

  The chanting grew louder and louder. Georgie found herself being pushed from one side to the other. There was no way she could stay here: no way she could spend the night in what she had come to see as ‘her’ bedroom. What was she to do?

  Shaking, she felt inside her pocket. There was her passport – or rather, Georgina’s – which she carried everywhere. And there was the phone number which Sam had given her. Turning her back on the crowds, she wove her way through the streets to the bakery where Emerald and Sapphire would often send her to buy the morning bread.

  ‘Please, I need to use the phone,’ she gasped.

  The baker, who had a soft spot for her, silently handed her the receiver. The chant outside was growing louder and louder. He looked scared. ‘Be quick. I must close door.’

  Her finger shaking, she misdialled twice before someone picked up the phone. It was a woman. His secretary, perhaps? ‘May I speak to Sam Hamilton, please?’

  Shaking even more, she held on for what seemed like ages. Outside, the crowds got louder and louder. ‘You must go now,’ urged the baker. ‘I do not want foreigners in here. I get into trouble.’

  ‘Hello?’

  The baker’s voice was so persistent that for a minute she didn’t hear Sam.

  When she did, she was almost too scared to talk. ‘It’s me, Georgie. I’m in trouble.’

  His voice was steady but firm. Exactly the kind you needed in a crisis. ‘Can you meet me by the floating market?’

  Desperately, she glanced outside. The crowd were swarming up the street now. She had a few minutes at the most. The baker’s face was drawn and he was gesticulating towards the back exit.

  ‘I’ll try.’

  The baker almost pushed her out. Reeling, she pounded down one lane and then another, not sure where she was going. Then – miracle! – she rounded a corner and there he was. Sobbing, she fell into his arms.

  ‘It’s all right.’ Sam’s arms were around her. Without warning, he lifted her up and carried her down another back street. As he ran, she closed her eyes. It was Joly. Joly carrying down the beach as in her dreams.

  ‘Jump in.’

  It was a taxi.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  She began to shiver with cold and shock.

  ‘To the airport.’ Sam’s mouth was set. ‘Rufus is already there. This whole place is going to explode by the end of today. There’s a massive uprising against the brothel closures.’

  ‘Brothels? But I worked in a massage parlour.’

  His hand closed over hers. ‘There’s no time to worry about that now. The most important thing is that you’re safe. Damn.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You might need to go back for your passport.’

  ‘I’ve got it.’

  ‘Good.’

  She began to shiver again. ‘The only thing is that my paperwork might not be in order.’

  ‘We’ll face that when it comes. The British consul will be there.’

  That was even worse. He’d know about Georgina’s death. He might arrest her for her involvement with the drug dealing. They might …’

  She had to get out of this somehow. ‘I don’t have anywhere to live in England any more. My mother re-married and I don’t want to go back.’

  Sam’s arm tightened around her. ‘Then come to Australia with me.’

  ‘Australia?’

  ‘I’m being transferred there by the bank.’

  ‘But …’

  He took away his arm and she felt a curious sense of loss. ‘I don’t mean come with me in that sense. I mean come with me until I can help you find a base.’

  A base? With a tall, handsome man who was a real gentleman? But what if she was stopped before she could leave?

  ‘We’re here.’ Sam indicated the large, glass airport building. ‘Stick with me and it will be all right.’

  It was too late to do anything else.

  ‘We will shortly be arriving at Paddington.’

  The station was packed. Loud. Hot. People were pushing her. Walking through her as if she didn’t exist. Georgie took a deep breath. It had been months since she’d been here, when she’d come up for an interior design trade fair.

  Maybe she should start looking for a flat there. Her hands closed around the wodge of notes she’d taken from the safe – cash that Sam kept there for ‘emergencies’.

  It should be enough for a month. Hopefully, this weirdo who was blackmailing her might have returned the money to Sam.

  And if not?

  Georgie couldn’t think that far. It was too terrifying. Just as it had been at the airport in Bangkok all those years ago.

  THIRTY-ONE

  I got stopped at a train once. It was when I’d absconded. Big word for me, I know. But believe me, it’s a word you soon get to hear.

  Most of the men what absconded got caught and sent to somewhere worse. But a few got away for a few weeks. Sometimes months. Occasionally years.

  Why bother, you might say. Why do something daft if it’s going to increase your sentence?

  I’ll tell you why. Cos you can’t put a price on the smell of fresh air. The taste of freedom. Seeing trees. Looking through shop windows. Sleeping in doorways instead of on a hard cell bed.

  That’s why I hit the guard. Turned out he was just questioning my ticket. But I panicked, see. Only broke his nose. But it was enough for the cops to get me at the next station.

  And back I went. Another twelve months.

  Now I’m careful. I let other people do the dirty work.

  And by the way, if you see me again, I’ve never met you. OK?

  THIRTY-TWO

  The last time Georgie had been at the airport was when she’d
arrived, over a year ago, on her way to the island. If only she had known what was to happen. She would have got straight back on the plane; back to the safety of England. She could have started her degree; finished her first year around now; hung out with Lyndsey during the summer.

  A difficult mother and a stepfather she didn’t care for were nothing compared with the situation she was in right now.

  ‘Hold tight,’ instructed Sam.

  His voice, normally so calm and assured, scared her. If he was worried, then she had every reason to be. All around them, people were pushing and shoving and snarling in a bid to get to the check-in desk.

  ‘Everyone’s desperate to get out,’ added Sam tight-lipped. ‘But if you stay with me, we’ll be all right.’

  He patted his breast pocket. ‘I’ve got tickets here.’

  ‘How did you book mine?’ she asked. ‘Didn’t you need my details?’

  Sam gave a slightly smug smile. ‘The firm has a contact with the airline.’

  The firm, it seemed, had contacts with everyone. Certainly, there were quite a few people in the crowd who now stood back as Sam – still holding her tightly – fought his way to the front. ‘Hi, Sam,’ said one man.

  ‘Don’t forget to keep up,’ added a girl, a few lines on. She glanced at Sam admiringly and then gave Georgie a dirty look.

  Sam was clearly someone of importance, even though he was – what? – only about five years older than her. It struck Georgie that she didn’t know his age exactly. Yet here she was, agreeing to go with him to a place that was on the other side of the world from home.

  Home. A place she could never go back to now in case they found her.

  At last, they’d got to the check-in desk. Georgie began to shake as she handed over her passport. She had a desperate urge to go to the lavatory – even the usual hole in the ground which she’d learned to accept in the camp. Yet at the same time, she knew she had to try to look calm.

  It would be fatal to arouse this woman’s suspicions.

  ‘You are travelling together,’ said the woman at last, after staring at Georgie’s passport details for some time. Georgina Peverington-Smith. Georgie Smith. Who was she anyway?

  Sam nodded. Then he put his arm around her. ‘This is my fiancée.’