by D. R. Bailey
“Yes, thank you, we’re grateful for your help,” said Bernadette.
“You are welcome, I’d do the same in your position.” Damsa had conceded perhaps because she felt some sort of empathy towards them. She did not owe Callum Jenkins anything, Bernadette knew that, and it was Damsa’s job to protect her own charges.
Damsa sipped her coffee and so did the others. “You came all the way from Dublin just to interview my refugees, I’m impressed.”
“Yes, and a couple of other things too,” said Bernadette.
“You have dedication I’ll give you that.”
“She is totally dedicated, I’ve yet to meet anyone more so to her clients,” Imogen put in. She was a champion for her boss and would take on anyone who might have a go at her or try to disparage her.
“I’m sure,” said Damsa with a smile, holding her hands up in mock surrender, “I never meant to imply otherwise.”
“So, you came here with your family?” Bernadette changed the subject.
“Yes, my father and mother. My mother is no longer with us, sadly. My father runs a business and of course, he was pleased I became a lawyer. Less so when I joined an NGO, I could have been coining it in the City but it’s not what I wanted.”
“And yourself, do you have your own family?”
“I have a son, but I’m divorced.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, it was just one of those things. He was, let’s say, abusive and I left in the end. For a refuge, you see the pattern?” Damsa gave a sardonic laugh.
“I see you’re very dedicated to your job.”
“Yes, well.” Damsa looked to see if they had finished their drinks. “On which note, and without meaning to be rude, is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Does this happen a lot, sexual trafficking?” Imogen asked her.
“Yes, but unfortunately quite often they don’t get caught. Certainly not at first. So sometimes by the time they’ve come to us they have suffered a lot of irreparable harm.”
“What are their chances of asylum?”
“Good usually if they can prove it was for sexual purposes, and their lives are in danger from return. Not hard to prove.” Damsa shook her head, it was obviously quite sad.
“Why do you think they do it?” Bernadette wondered.
“For a better life. Many come from poor families. It’s unusual to get Vietnamese because that isn’t a particularly repressive regime although many are not well off. I think sometimes they want to take away the pressure from their family, and they get conned. The best thing would be to catch the people in the country who are doing this then perhaps it might stop, or at least lessen.”
“Do you have any idea of who is behind the trafficking, in Europe?”
“No, we don’t get involved. You can imagine it’s a dangerous business best left to the police. We are just here to pick up the pieces I suppose,” Damsa sighed.
Bernadette looked at Imogen, but she had nothing further to add.
“We won’t take up any more of your time, you’ve been most helpful, thank you.”
“I do my best.” Damsa smiled. “Assuming you can see them, please keep all location information confidential it’s a safety thing.”
“We will, of course.”
Damsa showed them out and told them she would be in touch by the morning.
They managed to hail a taxi after a few moments and headed back to the Langham.
“What do you think?” said Imogen as they travelled in the back of the taxi, “Will she help us?”
“I think so, yes. I hope you didn’t mind me butting in, it’s just I thought she was going to say no,” said Bernadette looking worried.
“Of course not, we’re a team remember, the lesbian lawyer bitches. I was thinking that too, so I am glad you helped to turn it around.”
“What do you think the girls have been doing while we’ve been gone?” Bernadette wondered.
“God knows!”
“Are we all set for the lunch date with Mason Beamish?”
“Yes, that is on Thursday.”
“Where are you taking us?”
“The Waldorf,” said Imogen with a smile.
“Good choice, I’m sure he will be happy with that,” Bernadette laughed.
“He accepted the invitation without any hesitation I can assure you.”
“See, I told you, dangle a free lunch and it will get you everywhere with his kind.”
“What kind is he exactly?” said Imogen with interest.
“You’ll see, but he’s a typical public school, Daddy has lots of money and I think I’ll become a QC, type.”
“Oh dear.”
“Indeed.”
They returned to their suite to find Eve and D’Arcy lounging around the living room in towelling robes.
“What you have been up to?” Imogen asked them.
“Oh, we’ve been for a swim in their beautiful pool, and we’ve had a body massage at the spa, it was lovely. They’ve got a gym too,” said Eve smiling.
“Wanted to try to Chinese cupping but Eve wasn’t keen,” said D’Arcy.
“I should think not, doesn’t it leave round circles all over your body?” Imogen said distastefully.
“Oh, does it? Oh gosh.”
“What else have you got planned?” Bernadette asked them.
“I thought we could take a ride out see the sights at night, and then have something to eat?”
“Sounds good to me, can we order up some coffee in the meantime?” Bernadette sighed kicking off her shoes and sinking into one of the armchairs.
“Of course, darling, you can tell us how it went today,” said D’Arcy picking up the phone.
✽✽✽
Eve and Bernadette were alone in their bedroom after eating dinner at a nice but predictably posh restaurant which D’Arcy had picked. Carragh had hired a limousine to drive them around Central London mainly so Imogen could see the sights at night, but all of them loved it.
“Have you enjoyed yourself so far?” Bernadette asked Eve as they lay together enjoying the luxury of the bed.
“I’ve had a wonderful day, darling.” Eve kissed her lightly.
“I’m glad.”
“But I wish I could have spent it with you.”
“I’m sorry, you knew this was a working holiday.”
“Yes, I know, but I’d like to have a holiday soon, just for us, do you think we could?”
Bernadette realised they had never really considered doing this at all. She’d become a homebody and so was Eve, they seemed to be comfortable just being together. They did go out at the weekends for drives or stayed over at D’Arcy’s place. It was time to up the ante, she realised. Couples were supposed to do things like taking a week away or even two. Work commitments always seemed to be an issue, but Bernadette now had Imogen, she ought to be able to leave her cases for a couple of weeks. Once this case was over, she resolved to do something about it.
“I do and we should, you are right, and I’m sorry. I feel as if I’ve been quite neglectful in that way,” Bernadette whispered.
“Don’t feel like that. I didn’t mean to make you go and feel all bad about it. Sometimes you need to get away like this to realise what you are missing.”
“We won’t be able to afford something this grand,” said Bernadette smiling in the darkness.
There was light creeping through the curtains from the streetlights and other buildings outside. It was never really ever dark in London, Bernadette mused.
“I don’t want something grand. I want something comfortable, friendly, nice. Maybe near the sea or not far from it, or with a swimming pool. Somewhere hot, too.”
“You choose, darling, we’ll go wherever you want, as long as it’s not a war zone. Also, somewhere which isn’t anti-gay obviously.”
“Thank you, and yes, it has to be lesbian friendly,” Eve chuckled.
&nb
sp; “Do you like this bed?” Bernadette whispered.
“Mmm, comfy.”
“Shall we christen it?”
“Why not?”
Eve slid her arms around Bernadette and pulled her close. She kissed her with a sudden urgency. The touch of lips ignited them both immediately, coupled with the proximity of naked skin to skin.
“I love you so much,” said Bernadette raking her nails lightly down Eve’s back.
Eve hissed in her breath. “Oh God, I wish you could tie me up, fuck… do it again…”
“What, this?”
“Oh yes… mmm…”
“What about this?” Bernadette’s fingers moved slowly but inexorably between Eve’s legs.
“Oh… fuck… yes I want that… fuck… oh my God… fuck… yes… I do… oh… more… don’t stop…” Eve moaned softly. They were both conscious of D’Arcy and Imogen across the hallway but doubtless, they were doing the same thing.
“Oh… fuck… oh… oh my God… ooh… ooh…” The wine from the meal coupled with the different setting increased Eve’s arousal but things were taking a little longer than normal. Eve had perhaps had a glass or two too much.
Bernadette slowed her pace, and kissed Eve more passionately.
“Talk dirty to me,” Eve begged her whispering, “You know what I like… tell me about… D’Arcy…”
“Well…” Bernadette whispered back, this seemed to be Eve’s favourite topic at the moment, “I’m sure D’Arcy is going to be getting a red backside this trip, didn’t you see her behaviour in the limo?”
“Oh… God… yes… yes… you’re right… mmm…”
“Before long, I’m sure Imogen will be getting out that paddle, and ordering D’Arcy to strip, then she’ll bend her over the end of their big bed… and…”
“Oh… fuck… yes… yes… oh… God… yes… ohh… ohh.” Eve arched her back pushing hard into Bernadette’s hand as the wave crashed through her. “Oh God… that was good… so good.”
Bernadette smiled. “Was it OK?”
“It was more than OK, just like it always is,” Eve breathed coming down from her high.
“I love you, so much, my angel.” Bernadette pulled her close and held her tight.
Chapter Seven
The next morning the four of them sat down to breakfast at their dining table. They all opted for the Full English which consisted of eggs, bacon, sausages, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes. This was accompanied by toast, fruit juice and coffee. The breakfast menu was extensive but none of them wanted to succumb to the temptation to overindulge.
“Delicious,” said Bernadette.
“It’s nice to eat something I haven’t cooked for a change,” Eve agreed.
Bernadette shot her a guilty look at once.
“Not because I don’t like cooking, and I love cooking for you, darling, so don’t look like that!” Eve said at once.
“She’s a worrier, all the time,” Imogen put in, cutting into her scrambled eggs.
“Not all the time,” Bernadette protested.
“Yes, you are,” Imogen laughed.
“Not when I’m asleep,” Bernadette said triumphantly.
“She does, even then,” Eve chuckled.
“Oh fine.”
“Poor Bernadette, you shouldn’t worry so much, darling,” D’Arcy said sympathetically.
“Can we move on from my unruly state of mind now,” Bernadette said laughing.
“What are you doing today?” Imogen asked D’Arcy.
“Ah well, I’m taking Eve to Knightsbridge, shopping and to Harrods, we’ll have lunch there I think.”
“Lovely. Eve, try not to let her buy the whole shop.”
“Oh, poo! I’m not that bad, I might get one or two things for me, and of course, for Eve.”
“If you say so, darling,” Imogen replied smiling indulgently.
“What about you two?” Eve asked Bernadette.
“We are waiting for a phone call from the refugee place and then we are going to interview the refugees hopefully, or at least one of them,” said Bernadette.
“Oh, have you time for a swim?” Eve asked hopefully.
“With you?”
“Yes, of course, please?”
She looked so eager to spend some more time with Bernadette, she could not refuse.
“Yes, why not, let’s go after breakfast.”
“Why don’t we all go?” D’Arcy said at once.
“Let them go, darling, and stay here with me, won’t you?” Imogen flashed her a saucy look and ran her nail lightly down D’Arcy’s bare arm.
“Oh… well… oh! Oh, I see, but we only just… oh!”
It was plain enough Imogen was trying to give Bernadette and Eve a bit of space. Bernadette mouthed ‘thank you’ when D’Arcy couldn’t see, and Imogen winked surreptitiously.
After breakfast, Bernadette and Eve had a longish swim in the beautiful sixteen metre blue pool with subdued lighting and black slate walls. There was a sauna and steam room, they briefly used those, and after one further swim, they returned upstairs. There was still no call from Damsa. Bernadette dressed in less formal attire, a pale blue skirt, pale yellow top, and blue jacket, with some kitten heeled low mules. Imogen, did likewise, dressing down in a darker blue dress, jacket and flats. They did not want to look too formal for their meeting with the refugees as that might intimidate them.
D’Arcy and Eve left on their trip both wearing jeans, sneakers, a top and jacket. Bernadette and Imogen broke out their laptops and checked their emails.
“Do you think D’Arcy is going to spend lots of money?” Bernadette asked at length having dealt with various bits of correspondence.
“I expect so, I can’t stop her anyway, it’s her money. I can curb some things, but I can’t really tell her what to do with her own money,” Imogen sighed.
“So, you’re the boss of her, but not really.” Bernadette smiled.
“I can curb her behaviour, and she knows what to expect if she breaks agreements we’ve made. So, I can bring her into line sometimes but not in everything. She’s a free spirit, I’m not trying to mould her. She can just be very tactless, sometimes thoughtless and act like a spoilt brat. Spoilt brats get spanked and she knows it, and has agreed to it,” said Imogen frankly.
“I see,” said Bernadette with a slight smile.
“What?”
“Nothing, you’ve figured it out and I take my hat off to you in a way.”
“You’ve figured it out too.”
“Not all of it.”
“Are you still worried about what we talked about, with Eve?”
“Yes, and I’m going to tackle it this weekend,” said Bernadette with resolve.
“OK, don’t say I didn’t warn you though, about Pandora’s Box.” Imogen smiled.
“I know, but in the pursuit of real truth between us, I have to do this.”
“I understand, and if… you know, you need to talk, or anything then pick up the phone, day or night.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m always there for you, darling, you know that.”
“Likewise.”
Imogen’s phone rang, it was Damsa. She gave a thumbs up to Bernadette and wrote down an address. After a very short conversation, she disconnected.
“It’s on!” she said to Bernadette with a smile.
“Woohoo!”
“Yes, indeed, let’s call up a taxi.”
✽✽✽
The refugees had been temporarily housed by the council on the White City Estate in the west of London. The estate which originally consisted of blocks of red brick flats four stories high had apparently since been improved by the addition of some low level terraced and semi-detached properties. The taxi dropped them off outside a brick end of terrace house with a concrete drive at the front gated off by black iron gates. To the side was the front door which contained two glass panels and a small porch ro
of. A wooden fence joined the property to the next tranche of terraced houses. There was a wooden gate in the fence which most likely went through to a rear garden. Assuming Damsa was already there, Bernadette and Imogen went up to the door. Bernadette knocked and shortly after the door was opened.
“Hi, Bernadette, Imogen, come in,” said Damsa.
They entered into a small hallway with bare floorboards, a stairway led to the upstairs, and there was a door to the left and one straight ahead which looked as if it opened out to the kitchen.
“Come through,” said Damsa, taking them to the left into an open plan living room-cum-dining room.
The room was neat though sparsely furnished and had patio doors leading out to a long narrow back garden which had some trees and was mainly laid out to grass.
Seated at the dining room table were two young women between twenty to twenty five years old, both Vietnamese. They stood up politely when the others entered.
“This is Anh, and this is Kim,” said Damsa by way of introduction, she explained who Bernadette and Imogen were, although no doubt they had been told this already. She did not mention their surnames as this would preserve their privacy in the first instance.
Anh had a pretty face with brown eyes, and full lips, with long dark hair. Kim had brown eyes too and was equally beautiful as her friend, though her hair was somewhat shorter being shoulder length.
“Shall we sit down?” said Damsa.
They all took seats around the table and the two women looked at them expectantly.
“So,” said Bernadette with a smile which was returned.
Anh said, “I am pleased to meet you, and my friend also. I speak English quite well, but I will have to translate for her. She understands a little but not much.”
“Oh, OK.”
“We can answer your questions, Damsa has explained why you have come here,” Anh continued.
“First then,” Bernadette began, “Can I say how honoured we are that you are willing to talk to us, we realise you’ve endured much to get here. We have quite a few questions, but if you don’t want to answer any of them please let us know. It is, of course, your right not to answer.”
