by Susan Lewis
She smiled happily to herself. That would put the bitch Suzy’s nose well out of joint. She might even try to be there to see her face when she found out. In fact, this was definitely a better idea than getting her fired, she decided. Demotion, Suzy, you bitch. How’s that feel while your boss’s girlfriend’s swanning it around her classy flat on the river?
She jumped suddenly as the phone rang next to the bed.
‘Get that!’ Eddie called out.
Picking it up she repeated, verbatim, what he’d told her to say when answering this line. ‘Hello? Can I help you?’
‘Is Eddie there?’ a smooth, nasal voice demanded.
Recognizing it as Perry’s, she said, ‘He’s in a meeting. Can I take a message?’
‘Yes, tell him the Italians are good for it all. The deal’s done. We got what we wanted.’
‘OK, I’ll tell him. Anything else?’
‘I’ve got the dates, if he wants them,’ he replied. ‘And details of the new trade routes we talked about.’
‘I’d better write it down,’ she said. ‘Can you hang on? I’ll get a pen.’
Pulling open the bedroom door she got the all-clear to come in, then went to rifle through a kitchen drawer. She was replaying it all in her mind, so not really listening to what Eddie was saying to the bloke, Barry, as he showed him out the door. Something about him being a good lad for telling him this Sherry Mac had a contact inside Eddie’s organization.
‘It’s vital you get the name, Barry, my son,’ Eddie told him, slapping him on the back, ‘because we definitely don’t like two-timers, now do we? Know what I mean?’
Barry did, only too well, and was in no doubt it was as much a threat to him as it was to Suzy and Danny, whose names he hadn’t actually revealed, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he was forced to. As he walked off down the hall he felt so depressed that if it weren’t for his old mum he might just have gone and chucked himself in the Thames.
‘Ba. Go to Ba,’ Shaila whispered, looking pleadingly up into Ekta’s face.
‘Ssh, she is sleeping,’ Ekta told her.
Shaila turned her big eyes to Neela’s swollen face. The cuts weren’t deep, but the bruises were dark and livid.
Ekta thought what a child Neela looked. She thought too how courageous and strong she was, for she didn’t complain, nor did she cry in front of Shaila. She didn’t want to frighten her little niece, who’d lately started to call her Ba – mother.
Her injuries, though painful and still raw, had not been severe enough for Ekta to insist on a doctor, though she’d tried. ‘Mota Ben,’ she’d said, ‘please you must get her some help.’
‘No!’ Mota Ben had replied.
Mota Ben was possessed by evil spirits. She’d even let her own spy, Bhanu Ganesh, suffer with no doctor until she died. They’d taken her body away, Ekta didn’t know where to. Bhanu was no good for the men, she was too old and too ugly so there was no reason to save her life.
Ekta knew she was too old for the men too. Her husband had sold her for ten thousand rupees, enough to buy opium to soothe the pain of his teeth. The opium would have run out long ago, and she hoped his pain had driven him to such madness that he had thrown himself in the river and drowned. If she had a river she would throw herself in and drown. She would take Neela and Shaila with her, because they were going to die here anyway.
It was late in the day, but two girls were still working the machines. Mota Ben had brought the material yesterday. She wanted the new garments by tomorrow. Because they hoped to keep in Mota Ben’s favour, the two girls had volunteered straight away. If Mota Ben liked them, they thought, maybe she wouldn’t send them to the worst of the men. But Ekta knew there was no favour to be had with Mota Ben. No matter what the girls did, they were doomed.
Hearing Neela stir, Ekta turned and watched her eyelids flutter open.
Seeing she was awake Shaila strained towards her, so Ekta let the child go.
‘Hello, Shailabeta,’ Neela whispered, stroking the girl’s hair.
Shaila settled in beside her, clinging to her sari that was still blood-stained and ripped. Mota Ben had left material for Neela to make herself a new one – she’d need it for her next visit to a man. Ekta had already made it for her, because Neela was determined to carry on until they let her see a doctor. In her heart Ekta was very much afraid that they would let her die first.
Minutes and hours ticked by. The sun faded, darkness came.
In the middle of the night Ekta woke to the sound of whispering. It was Mota Ben with someone Ekta had never seen before. He was short, with a beard and clothes that reeked of men’s perfume. He spoke in English, but with an accent Ekta had never heard. It was too hard for her to understand, and too dark for her to see all of his face.
She lay very still as they walked through the shadows until they reached Neela’s mattress. Ekta’s heart stopped beating. She prayed to Ambamata that they wouldn’t take Neela again. It was too soon. She needed time to heal.
Gingerly turning her head she saw that Neela was still sleeping. Then suddenly she wanted to scream, for Mota Ben was pulling Shaila up by the arm.
Shaila’s terrified eyes were bright like stars in the darkness. ‘Ba,’ she murmured. ‘Ba.’
The man’s face was close to the child’s. He jerked her head back to get a better look. Then, turning to Mota Ben, he nodded.
Ekta didn’t care what happened to her now. They would have to chop off her hands before she let them take Shaila. She watched, waited, then tears flooded into her eyes as Mota Ben and the man started to walk away. They hadn’t taken Shaila tonight, but Ekta knew beyond any doubt that soon they would. Shaila was the prize, the treasure for which they would pay many fortunes. She was being sold to the highest bidder, Ekta realized that, and soon the winner would come to take her away. There was nothing Neela could do to stop them. There was no doctor to help them now, Ekta realized that too, and though she was little more than a child herself, Neela was too old to go in Shaila’s place.
Ekta lay staring blindly into the darkness, her heart sinking like stones in a river as she listened to Shaila quietly sobbing. Ekta had never killed another living soul, but she knew now that in order to save Shaila from the men, that was what she must do.
Chapter Nineteen
LAURIE WAS SO nervous she couldn’t even sit down. Elliot was on his way over, and though she’d tried everything to make herself relax, she couldn’t. She just paced around the flat, wringing her hands, going over and over what she was going to say, how he was likely to react, and what she would say then. She was sure she’d thought of everything by now, though of course he was bound to come up with the very thing she hadn’t prepared for, it always happened like that.
Feeling as though she was going mad, she took herself off to the mirror to check how she looked again. She’d been ready for over half an hour, having finally decided on the white semitransparent blouse he’d always found sexy, an over-the-knee skirt she’d rushed out and bought specially, a tiny white G-string with matching transparent bra that she’d picked up during the same panicked spree, and gold strappy sandals. She’d tidied the bedroom and put clean sheets on the bed, just in case. The very thought of it sent more nerves shuddering all the way through her. Did she really have the courage to try and seduce him? Would he even find her attractive now, after experiencing such a sexual powerhouse as Andraya? Oh dear God, what was she going to do if he turned her down? But he wouldn’t. This was going to work out, so she was just going to cancel all the negative thoughts, summon what was left of her confidence and put La Bohème on the CD ready to play.
After doing that she went to the kitchen to start mixing their favourite cocktail – Absolut Mandarin Cosmopolitan. She got as far as filling the shaker with ice before deciding it was too obvious. So she went to the fridge to make sure there was wine. Of course there was, not only had she already drunk a glass, she’d bought plenty earlier when she was shopping for the dinner she was sup
posed to be cooking tonight. She’d invited Rhona, Sherry, Nick and her adored gay friends Andrew and Stephen, who’d just come back from a South African safari. Everyone had understood completely when she’d called around five to tell them she’d finally heard from Elliot, who’d been back for two days now, so dinner was off. No-one had even cautioned her to play a little harder to get, probably because they knew she was too afraid he’d go off to New York without seeing her at all to start playing games now. And Sherry had sounded quite relieved, since it meant she could fly over to Brussels tonight to meet the Interpol officer, rather than get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.
Fortunately the atmosphere between her and Sherry wasn’t quite so tense now, though it had turned pretty explosive again after Sherry’s visit to Karima Ghosh. Not because Laurie had come down on her as hard as she’d have come down on herself had she screwed up like that, but because Sherry, obviously expecting an almighty row, had leaped straight to the defensive by shouting at her, not realizing at first that the showdown wasn’t happening. Nor was she being thrown off the story. Everyone had bad days, Laurie had reminded her, and God knew she, Laurie, had made her own share of mistakes. She was hardly going to penalize Sherry for something she might easily have done herself, considering her own distractions.
Anyway, it probably wasn’t as big a disaster as it seemed, and once tonight was over they’d find a way to make it work for them, rather than against them. Until then she just couldn’t think about anything else.
She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to go. He’d be late though, he almost always was. Her stomach reacted to another wave of nerves and she had to run back to the bathroom. When she came out again, were it not for the fact that she’d already had one drink, she’d have gone straight to the fridge. Maybe she should get down on her knees and start praying instead, for it truly felt as though her entire future was at stake tonight – and actually, it was.
She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Elliot, she was in no doubt about that, she wanted to marry him, have his children, share his dreams and do all the things they’d planned. In her heart she was convinced he still wanted it too, so somehow she had to persuade him that nothing had changed, he’d just lost sight of where they were going for a while. She didn’t blame him for what was happening now, anyone could be blinded by Andraya’s dazzling charms, and though she wished every disfiguring disease and mental derangement on the woman, she was prepared to put it all behind her as long as Elliot was too.
Knowing it couldn’t possibly be as simple as that, but not prepared to go any deeper, she suddenly caved in and went back to the fridge. Just a mouthful, no more. She had to have something, or she was going to drive herself crazy, especially now the dread that he was only coming to collect more of his belongings, or to discuss selling the flat and dividing their assets, was forcing its way back in. But no! He’d said he wanted to talk, and that wasn’t talking, it was … leaving.
She gulped down the wine, then snatched up the phone as it rang. It would be Rhona with a last-minute good luck.
‘Hi,’ he said, ‘it’s me.’
Laurie’s heart stopped beating. ‘Hi,’ she responded. ‘Where are you?’
‘Something’s come up. I’m afraid I can’t make it.’
Her eyes grew wide as the world seemed to turn itself in on her. She’d set so much store by this, had truly believed there might be a chance they would get back together. ‘Why?’ she said, her voice sounding strangely cracked and almost shrewish. ‘What came up?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘What’s so important that you suddenly can’t come, when three hours ago you could?’ she demanded.
He didn’t answer.
‘It’s her, isn’t it?’ she snapped, as the blood began rushing to her head. ‘She won’t let you come. She’s afraid of what might happen between us.’
‘Laurie …’
‘You said you’d be here at eight,’ she raged. ‘I want you to come over here now!’
‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’
‘Why? Just tell me why.’
‘It’ll only upset you.’
‘You don’t think I’m that already? For God’s sake, Elliot! What’s the matter with you? How can you just call up at the last minute like this and tell me you’re not coming?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It couldn’t be avoided.’
‘I’m not hanging up this phone until you tell me what the hell is going on.’
There was a pause, then he said, ‘Andraya’s … There’s a dinner at the British Museum tonight. Andraya’s one of the guests of honour. Chris was going with her, but something came up for him and she doesn’t want to go alone.’
Laurie’s heart was folding over in pain – everything inside her was starting to collapse. Andraya came first. He was doing this for Andraya. Suddenly she wanted to run and run, or scream and rant. This was all wrong. He didn’t belong to Andraya, he belonged to her. They were supposed to be getting married at the end of next week, and this was happening instead. She put a hand to her mouth to stop the hysteria exploding out of her. She turned around, walked to the window and turned back again.
‘Are you still there?’ he said.
Her voice was laced with anger, threaded with despair. ‘So what you’re saying,’ she said, ‘is I don’t matter? After everything we’ve meant to each other, the years we’ve been together, you’re just dropping me now to go and be with her?’
‘We’re not together now,’ he reminded her gently. ‘If we were, it would be different, but we’re not.’
That hurt so much that Laurie just wanted to die. Again she covered her mouth to prevent herself crying out. It was as though everything was dissolving, turning into nothing, disappearing, disintegrating, dying. There was so much she wanted to say, such a lot she needed to make him understand … Then she heard herself speaking, saying words she didn’t mean, using them as though they could hurt him back. ‘If she means so much, why don’t you take her to Bali?’ she spat. ‘It would be a shame to waste it.’
His silence shocked her as she suddenly realized what it meant.
‘Oh God, Elliot,’ she cried, ‘please tell me you’re not going to do it. Please. You can’t take her there.’
‘No, of course not,’ he responded. ‘But maybe you should go. Take Rhona, or Sherry.’
‘Are you out of your mind? Do you seriously think I could go there now, without you?’
There was another silence.
‘Elliot, why is this happening?’ she begged, starting to cry. ‘I don’t understand it. One minute you love me, we’re together and happy, the next we’re not getting married and my whole life is falling apart. How did that happen? What did I do?’
‘You didn’t do anything,’ he told her. ‘I wish it wasn’t happening either.’
‘Then stop it. Please. I love you.’
He was silent again.
‘She’s just using you,’ she cried. ‘She’s a slut, a whore, a talentless piece of dirt.’
‘Laurie …’
‘Don’t you dare defend her!’ she cut in. ‘I don’t want to hear …’
‘I’m sorry, I have to go,’ he said. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘Don’t bother,’ she screamed. ‘Don’t call me ever again! Just drop dead, the pair of you. Just fucking drop dead.’
As she slammed down the phone her whole body was seized by sobs. They came wrenching out of her, loud and desperate, filled with hatred and despair. She pressed her palms to her head. She couldn’t bear this. She just couldn’t. It hurt too much. She had to find a way of making it stop. Anything. Please God, anything to make it stop.
Turning to the fridge, she yanked open the door and splashed more wine into a glass. She drank it down, then sank to her knees, holding herself tight as she sobbed and sobbed. She hated and despised him. She never wanted to see him again. That he could do this to her, treat her as though she didn’t matter at all … It was too awful
. Too painful. It was tearing her apart and every day it was just getting worse.
‘Please, Elliot, please,’ she cried, letting herself fall against the cabinets. ‘I love you, please don’t do this.’ She covered her face with her hands, still gasping his name, and Rhona’s and Sherry’s, anyone who might help her make this go away. She thought of Sherry’s advice, to stop resisting and go with it, let it drag her into its hideous depths. But she couldn’t. It was impossible. She had to resist it. Oh God, she had to speak to Sherry. She had to stop her going to Brussels and make her come here instead.
After dialling Sherry’s number she wiped the back of her hand over her face, pushing away the tears and panting for breath. Images of him, putting the phone down just now then turning to embrace Andraya, were tormenting her. She could see their love, feel it, even smell it. It was like a living force bearing down on her as though to destroy her.
Almost screaming as she got Sherry’s machine, she quickly tried her mobile. Please, Sherry, answer. Please. You’ve got to tell me what to do.
Only the voicemail there too.
As she rang off she felt as though she were drowning. She took a deep shuddering breath. It didn’t help, so she took another and another. She held on to the counter top as if to keep herself upright, and eventually, tentatively she managed to lift her head as the worst of it seemed to subside. She turned to stare out at the sitting room, and imagining him there she almost buckled with the pain again. But she forced herself forward, taking herself round to the CD. Though every instinct told her to run, to escape this nightmare any way she could, if Sherry was right – and everyone said she was – the only way she was ever going to truly get past this was to face it and go all the way through it.
When she got to the CD she felt the tears rising up fast again. Was she really going to force herself to listen to the very opera they’d first made love to? Did it really make sense to put herself through so much torment? Already the dread of it was overwhelming her, for she could see the candlelit garden in Mexico where it had happened, the villa where they’d stayed after the first story they’d covered together. It had been so beautiful and romantic, so perfect that the mere thought of it now caused infinitely more pain than she could bear. She knew that to hear the music, to listen to the doomed love of Mimi and Rodolfo, playing out to its tragic denouement, was going to half-kill her.
