by Koko Brown
“Okay,” he breathed out in a rush. Wen sent him a trusting smile and Xiu’s heart ached for him. How much longer would his presence be tolerated before he was told to leave the country? As soon as they all entered the house, Wen called out for his mother, and she rushed at him, bursting into tears.
It was a long time before the social worker could continue her assessment and for him to make his way back to the station. His very soul was weary with the mental gymnastics he performed to keep Atarah out of the line of fire. He didn’t know why.
As a trafficker, she’d be aware of what would happen to anyone who had the misfortune of giving their lives over to people who had zero conscience for the chance of a life in another country. Millions of people had done the same and reached their promised land. Double the number had suffered in their journey, for their journey, and continued to suffer. Poor Wen was one amongst the millions. She’d know what they would endure. Women, children, men. The slavery, the abuse: mental, physical, sexual. What was different about Wen that she had to intervene? He rested his head in both hands and tried to control his frantic heartbeat.
“Xiu!” his chief bellowed. “What have you been doing all this time? I’ve got shitloads of CCTV for you to go through!”
“I’ve got to check on my source. She’s gone to ground,” he announced, realising that the station was not where he needed to be right now. “I need to follow up and see what she knows.”
She looked unconvinced. “All right. But keep me updated. Don’t stay so damn quiet. I don’t like silence.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With the freedom to do what he needed, Xiu filled the boot of his car with enough fresh food to keep Atarah going for at least a week, and drove to the cottage. He unloaded the car and opened the door, steeling himself for her anger and disappointment that he had taken so long. Silence greeted him. He called her name up the stairs and received no response.
Frowning, he took the stairs two at a time and opened the bathroom door. Not only was she a messy cow, leaving her damp towel on the floor, she was an inconsiderate one.
Xiu trudged down the stairs and sat in one of the armchairs. On the coffee table, a note rested with his name on the front.
Xiu, don’t be cross but I was going a bit mad. I’ve got to go back to London and sort myself out. I’ll be back before you know it. A. Xxx
All he could do was wait for her. Irritated and tired, he placed his phone on the table and leaned back in the chair. Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep. The dead man’s body swam into his vision. Wen crying at full volume and trying to shake Atarah into action. His vision swam and the body lurched up, sitting forward, his brains spilling out onto his dress shirt. “You can’t trust her,” it gargled.
Xiu jerked awake and grabbed his phone. Barely an hour had passed since he’d sat down. He rubbed his eyes and went into the kitchen to make a coffee. Thankfully, the cottage was well stocked with a cafetiere, making his cup strong and sweet to ensure he stayed awake. He couldn’t really afford to have another dream like that.
Finally the door opened and Atarah strolled in. She’d straightened her hair. Wen wouldn’t recognise her from the big-haired lady. Xiu barely recognised her.
“Hi,” she said with a big exhale, putting down her bags of shopping and immediately embracing him. He didn’t want to hug her back, but she smelled like she normally did. The same affection as before. As if murder hadn’t taken place last night. The same affection as before coursed through him. As if she hadn’t taken a man’s life with the same body pressed to his.
He had no idea who she was.
FOUR
“I’m sorry I disappeared,” Atarah said, leaning back and touching his face with cold hands. “I just needed to do something. I couldn’t sit here with no food, no money, and no way to contact anyone else.”
“Is that wise?” he asked, unable to free himself from the cloak of misgiving shrouding his person. “You know how traceable these things are…”
She grinned at him. “I’m sound. I’ll work around it. Did you see my friend? The little boy?”
Xiu nodded, putting her to one side. “He’s…all right, I suppose. He’s been through a lot. At least he’s with his mum.”
Atarah sighed. “That’s a relief. I feel much better knowing that he’s with her and not alone in a hospital. I couldn’t sleep worrying about him.”
“You’re not worried about…”
She blinked at him. “I’m worried about everything.”
His eyebrows rose and he pointed his chin in the direction of her shopping. “Seems like it.”
Her eyes travelled between his, a small frown formed between her arched brows. She took his hand and sat him down in the armchair, oblivious to his discomfort, and perched on the table in front of him.
“What do I need to tell you?” she asked, squeezing his hands.
“What happened.” He removed her hands from her grip and rubbing his face. “I’ve pieced together most of it, but I don’t understand what you were doing in that guy’s flat.”
Atarah looked down at her knees. “That’s…it was Nicodeme. He has…had…I don’t know how to explain it other than he could do what he wanted. He wasn’t supposed to be there.”
“Why were you there?”
She lifted a shoulder, her fingers flexing around his. “I was asked to make note of all the names so they could be assigned identities. You know why.”
Because she spoke Mandarin. “Go on.”
“Nicodeme said he wanted someone at home to help him clean. I knew that was bullshit, so I told him he could have any number of cleaners, but I needed to note everyone in first. He said I already had taken note of the child and she’d be returned as soon as the work was done.”
Atarah breathed out slowly, rolling the heels of her palms over her knees. “He said she and it flicked something in my head. Rather than accepting it, I said he didn’t have a right to take anyone anywhere. That it wasn’t what we were to do. He said he could do what he wanted and Gael would let him.”
“Who’s Gael?”
Atarah’s face changed slightly, and he couldn’t read the expression on her face. “He’s the man in charge. Well, second to his wife, Sybilla. She’s really in charge, even though everyone deals with Gael. Still a man’s world in the criminal universe,” she said with a wry smile. “Gael and Nicodeme are like that.” She crossed her index and middle finger over. “So he’s…he was pretty assured that whatever he did, Gael would let him get away with it. He put his hand on my throat to make sure I got his point.” She shrugged again, clearing her throat. “Didn’t matter, I still followed him. I couldn’t remember what his address was and I keep thinking, if only I knew, if only I remembered that address, I could have got there earlier…”
“Look at me,” Xiu commanded. “You saved him from what could have been worse.”
She shook her head. “Assault is always bad. He’ll feel the touch of that man for the rest of his life. I still do.”
Xiu shouldn’t have been shocked. But her words took him by surprise. He wanted to ask what happened, but she was focused on the events of the night before. “Anyway, I called Gael, told him I needed to give something to Nicodeme and he told me the address without a second thought. I broke in.” She shook her body in a shudder. “I’ve never been able to do that, but it was pure rage. I was so angry with him. For taking Wen, for threatening me… We fought, I won, he’s dead.”
Xiu lifted his brows. Slightly disappointing end, but then he had witnessed the aftermath. Who had grabbed the knife, where the gun had come from, where the hammer had come from… Did he need to know when he had sat in a hospital with Wen? Was it necessary when he’d taken away her clothing, saw the shreds in her bloodied T-shirt from the knife attack, knew her entire body was bruised from her fight.
“What am I doing?” she asked him. “I can’t stay here forever.”
“You have to at least stay out of the way until we can see if eit
her Gael or Sybilla will come after you, knowing you called him for directions to go to Nicodeme’s flat. I haven’t turned your phone on, but you going dark will give them a clue.”
“I think I should call them,” she said eventually, clearing her throat again, one free hand fluttering over her neck, almost in recall of how she tried to protect herself. “Only to take suspicion away. Or at least to make them understand why.”
Xiu leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. “I don’t think you can. There’s no way you can get back in there. That’s it, Atarah. I hope you’ve stocked enough cash for yourself…”
“It’s not about the money!” she cried. “There are all these desperate people and I’ve been stopping them from falling into a life of prostitution and slavery… I’ve got them out,” she choked on her words, tears spilling onto her cheeks.
“You did, you were doing the very best,” Xiu leaned forward and wiped her tears away. “You’ve come a long way from where you were. But you can’t do it anymore. Not without risking your life.”
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “Fine.”
He turned her head gently so she looked at him. “Atarah, I can’t be responsible for you walking into the line of fire. You’ve made up for whatever it is that you’ve done…”
“You don’t understand,” she muttered. “It’s fine. I’ll stay here until you tell me everything is all right.”
Xiu released her and returned to the kitchen to remake the coffee. “Let’s have a drink and something to eat,” he suggested. “Then we can plan. Wen’s okay. I’ll keep an eye on him and I’ll feed what I can to my Chief. I won’t be able to keep you out altogether.”
“I know. Especially when they review the flat. My blood, my prints are everywhere. So are Wen’s prints. Did he get assessed by social services?”
Xiu hesitated. Sometimes, she would say things and it would make him pause. Why would she know that a lone child would be assessed by social services? “Yeah, they did.”
“So he’s in the system now.”
“Atarah,” he said sternly. “Stay put. Stay calm. Stay here. There is nothing for you to do right now.”
She widened her eyes. “All right! I heard you.”
“Good.”
He turned back to the coffee pot and threw over his shoulder, “You may want to put away some of that shopping, before it melts.”
She got up from the table and did as she was bid. They moved around each other in the kitchen with the ease of a couple who had been together for a long time. It both moved and saddened him. It was a life that they couldn’t possibly have, certainly not after last night.
He turned the oven on and threw in the veal pie he’d bought, ready-made.
“Do you mind, if I just have a few minutes of shut-eye?” he asked, setting a timer on his phone for the frozen pie.
“Not at all. I’ll come with you. I slept for all of two hours yesterday,” she admitted. “And I always sleep better with you.”
“Are you sure?” he whispered, thinking she wouldn’t want any man to touch her while she was so vulnerable.
“Just you,” she whispered back. Taking his hand, she led him up the stairs. “This is a nice cottage.”
“It was my mum’s,” he admitted. “She dreamed of the English countryside as a little girl and all she ever wanted was her own home, in the greens of England.”
“And I’m spoiling it.”
They came to a halt beside the bed. Xiu shook his head. “No. You’re not.”
Toeing off his shoes and stripping off his jumper and T-shirt, he watched Atarah do the same, except she left her T-shirt on and wriggled out of her bra. She probably didn’t want him to see the knife wound again. He lifted the duvet for Atarah to get in first, then slid in beside her. She scooped her straightened strands away from her face, and wedged herself into the crook of his neck.
“What time did you put on the timer?” she mumbled against his skin.
“An hour and a half, because it’s frozen solid,” he replied, tracing his fingertips over her bruised neck. She shuddered and tugged his hand down to her shoulder instead.
“Sorry.” He added to his apology with a kiss to her hair. It smelled sweet and clean. The texture of it against his lips felt strange. As if he were with a different woman altogether.
“It’s fine, once they go away…”
Slowly her breathing changed and then the intermittent whimpering noises began. Xiu wished he could find sleep so easily. Exhaustion dried his eyes and seeped an ache into his bones.
But what Atarah said played into his mind. When the bruises went away, the memory of how she’d received them would remain. They always remained.
FIVE
Atarah woke up after barely twenty minutes with her eyes closed. She carefully sat up and saw that Xiu was fast asleep. Rolling away from his hefty arm, Atarah picked up the clothing from the side of the bed and padded downstairs. A tweak of her curtains saw that Lonán’s car was back in its drive. She grabbed her new leather jacket, wallet, the keys to the cottage, and shoved her feet into ballet flats.
Poor Xiu. So conflicted with his feelings for her and his duty to the job. He’d probably need to leave her alone, as eventually the job would win out. The job would always win.
She knocked on Lonán’s door and winced as Saoirse launched herself at her.
“Hi Rae!”
“Hi,” she murmured, then laughed nervously. “Where’s your Dada? I came to give him back his money.”
“Come in and give it back,” Saoirse stated, pulling Atarah inside. She closed the door behind Atarah and ran off to the back of the cottage. “Dada! Rae’s here! She’s changed her hair!”
Atarah stood close to the door, ready to leave as quickly as possible. Lonán emerged from a room, with his daughter close behind him. Dressed in a shirt that warmed his eyes and exposed a gold crucifix at his neck, Lonán looked picture perfect. She partly supposed that it was the effect of him in his own home and partly that he was disgracefully beautiful. Atarah had never found men’s feet anything to do cartwheels over, but Lonán’s did strange things to her.
“Hi.”
She smiled briefly and scrambled for her wallet, snatching out the money. She held out the notes, almost surprised that her hand remained steady. “Thank you. I really appreciate the neighbourly-ness.”
Lonán took the money from her, not taking his eyes from her face. “Not a problem. Did you get everything you needed?”
“Yep.” She didn’t want to say any more for fear that tiredness would give her away. “Thanks again. I’ve got a pie in the oven, so I need to get back to that, before I burn the cottage down.”
“Really? You can stay if you like. Just turn the oven off. We have a chicken lasagne. If you prefer.”
Another time, she’d have leapt at the chance. It was instantly familial. Intimate. Promising. Things she’d lost the right to the moment Nicodeme died. To be fair, Lonán didn’t have the right to be welcoming and delicious. She crossed her legs at the ankle and willed the blazing sensation between her thighs away. Stop it!
“No, I really do need to get back. Another time. Chicken lasagne sounds delicious.”
Saoirse’s face crumpled. “But I didn’t get to tell you about d’animals!”
Atarah bent down so she was eye level with the little girl. “You can tell me about them another day. I just have to not burn the house down!”
She looked unconvinced. “Tomorrow?”
Since she would have to hang around in the village for as long as Xiu decided she needed to be here, she may as well make friends with her neighbours. “I’d love to. I can make dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever?”
“Come for lunch,” Lonán offered. “We’ll be here.”
She wanted to ask him what he could possibly do from home and where Saoirse’s mother was, but as she had time on her hands, she could ask another day. She made a motion to lean forward and kiss Lonán’s cheek and held herself in c
heck. Touching him would taint him and she wanted to touch. All over. Everywhere. Lingeringly.
“I’ll see you both tomorrow. Bye.”
“Bye,” Saoirse said with a little hiccup and followed her out of the door.
As soon as she stepped back into the cottage, she shed her clothing and slipped back into bed with Xiu, who didn’t stir. Goodness, the poor man must be out of it to not even hear the door open and close. She smoothed a hand over his bare chest, the graze of hair beneath her palm.
Xiu stirred in his sleep, responding to her touch. Her hand traversed over his bare hip and scooted across his stomach, her palm rasping with the fine hair that arrowed to his navel.
Exhaustion stung her eyes and made her movements laboured, but she wanted to sleep so badly. She needed something to push her over the edge, to allow sleep to claim her. Xiu turned over, not opening his eyes but reached out to cup her breast over the cotton top. Trickles of need ran to the top of her thighs and she pressed his hand harder into her flesh. He pushed her top to her neck, exposing her unbound breasts to his mouth.
She arched into the wet heat, closing her eyes and giving herself to the sensations. Xiu’s hand burrowed into her knickers and he growled at her wetness. She winced with guilt, aware that her reaction had resulted from proximity to Lonán and not anything Xiu could do. Or maybe. She corrected herself as his fingers dipped in shallow exploration inside her. Briefly she opened her eyes and saw Xiu’s dark head bent at her chest, his breath hot between her breasts.
Disappointment reigned for a moment that his hair wasn’t red, and she told herself to be sensible. You don’t know Lonán. He could be terrible in bed. He’s got more baggage than you.
Xiu’s exploration dragged her back to the moment, curving his fingers within her and rubbing roughly on her clit until a wave of intensity caught her by surprise and knocked her into an orgasm so strong she saw black spots behind her eyes.
Xiu reached for his wallet and withdrew a condom. Throwing the wrapper away, he hooked his thigh over hers and pressed her into the mattress. Atarah panicked immediately, and with Xiu’s hands on either side of her head, she pressed at his chest.
