Ring Around Rosie (17 page)

Ted nudged Martha to point out this strange
spectacle but she was too engrossed in her phone call and flicked him away.

Ted continued to watch the strange
birdman’s mouth move, and then something caught his attention: his shoes. Ted
could see them under the wire; they were yellow cowboy boots. Where had he seen
boots like that recently?

Then it hit him, he jumped to his feet but
Martha grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” she hissed. “I’ve seen him too but
don’t go charging over there, you’ll only scare him off.”

Ted pulled out his phone. She was right, he
didn’t want another bollocking from the police for trying to handle things on
his own.

“Don’t!” said Martha, grabbing his phone.
“What are you doing?”

“We have to call the police.”

“No, we’ll lose him, maybe for good. If he
refuses to talk to the police and they don’t have enough evidence to hold him,
he’ll disappear and we’ll lose the one chance we have to find Rosie.”

Ted sat back down but made sure not to take
his eyes off the man; there was no way he was losing him again. “What do you
suggest then?”

“I’ll go talk to him, I can be very
persuasive when I want to.”

Ted looked at her doubtfully. “I don’t
know. He’s a dangerous man, Martha. Who knows what he’s really capable of?”

“I can do this, Ted. Trust me.”

Ted looked up into her pleading eyes and
shrugged. “OK, but I’ll be straight on him if he makes one move, ok?”

“Sure, but otherwise stay away until I give
you the signal. He’ll bolt like a rabbit if he feels threatened and then we’re
back to nowhere again.”

Ted watched anxiously as Martha walked over
to the man and sat down on the ground next to him. They seemed to talk for ages
as Ted stared unblinking, afraid of missing Martha’s signal. Ted realised the
man must have recognised Martha from earlier but when Martha sat down next to
him he’d hardly flinched. He seemed really receptive to her as if he was
grateful for the company and attention. Ted was finding it very frustrating not
being able to hear what they were saying but they both seemed to be chatting
away like old friends so Ted relaxed his guard a little.

It was starting to get late and people were
rushing past, anxious to get home. Just as Ted was beginning to think he’d have
to make a bed on the bench where he sat, Martha got up and walked towards him.
He stood, nervous that she’d left the man’s side and may risk letting him get
away again, but Martha shook her head as if to say it’s ok.

As she drew closer Ted studied her
expression to get a heads up on the situation before she reached him but her
face gave nothing away.

“Griff’s agreed to take me to where Rosie
is but only if I go alone and you stay away. He says he doesn’t want to risk
being caught and he thinks if you’re there you’ll turn him in once he’s given
us Rosie.”

Martha didn’t look him in the eye as she
was talking and Ted couldn’t work out if she was uncomfortable with the situation
but felt she had to go along with it, or wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

“No way, you’re not going anywhere with him
on your own,” replied Ted. “Let me at him, he’ll soon tell us what he knows,”
he said angrily, trying to push past Martha.

She grabbed his arm. “Don’t be an idiot!”
she hissed. “This could be our one chance to find Rosie and you’re not messing
it up with your macho bullshit!”

Ted stepped back, wounded. He’d never heard
Martha talk like that before and it was like hearing a stranger speak.

“I don’t trust him,” said Ted quietly,
feeling like a naughty puppy that had just been scolded for peeing on the
floor.

Martha softened and touched his arm as she
said, “I’ll be fine, he’s harmless, wouldn’t say boo to a badger. Go home, I’ll
call you as soon as I have Rosie.”

It was all so matter-of-fact, as if she was
just going somewhere with an old friend, rather than a strange man that had
kidnapped Rosie and done goodness knows what else to her.

Ted stood watching the strange procession disappear
through the park. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
He remembered from earlier at the flat that Griff had seemed childlike,
infantile, like there was something wrong with him, and he hadn’t put up any
resistance when Ted barged in, in fact he’d cowered behind the door. But there
was something about the way he was walking away from him, beside Martha,
assuredly. And he hadn’t looked at Ted once the whole time he’d been talking to
Martha, like he’d already known he was there.

Ted’s blood was beginning to run cold; he’d
been here before, in a similar situation, and had made the wrong decision. He
couldn’t risk it happening again. He stood up, and, staying in the shadows,
followed Martha and Griff back through the park.

The clothes Rosie was now shivering in were
similar to the ones she’d worn the other times; designed to show enough of her
to tantalise but not to give everything away. She guessed this new guy, Silas,
must be a little further down the food chain than Zaydain and co. because the
new club she was standing outside was more neon and nicotine stains than
strobes and champagne. Silas was negotiating with the doorman; it was almost
embarrassing the way he was grovelling and snivelling to be let in, as if the
club had any standards or dress code; surely this place let any old riff raff
through its doors. Finally, the doorman begrudgingly submitted, like he was
doing them a huge favour, but as they entered the club all Rosie could see were
weasely, spineless little men, much like Silas, all leaning and leering; surely
the doorman should have been begging them to come in not the other way around,
she thought.

To Rosie’s surprise, Silas bought her a
drink, said it was to loosen her up, that there was nothing worse for a man
than a stiff, frigid, whimpering girl. She gratefully downed it, not caring
what his reasons were, gasping as it caught momentarily in her throat and then
savouring the warmth as it filled her body. It was so soothing that she almost
felt comfortable in her sordid surroundings. She suddenly realised that the
tiny weasely men weren’t so scary after all, they were soft, edgeless creatures
that swirled and slithered as they tried to get the best angle on the eye
candy. How could anything so small and soft be scary? Rosie found herself
smiling, this wasn’t so bad after all, maybe she was starting to get used to
it.

The music seemed to get louder and Rosie
felt herself start to sway to its provocative beat. She discarded her coat and
hugged her body as it moved, enjoying the attention from the many eyes that had
turned her way; she was beautiful after all. Never had Rosie felt so happy or
so overwhelmed by a feeling of love. As she watched Silas talking to the men,
she was surprised to find herself liking the way he looked, thinking there was
actually something very desirable about him. In fact, all the men around her
were handsome, and she could tell from their eyes they all wanted her. She
danced more vigorously, wanting to give them a show, but Silas seemed to get
protective of her suddenly and insisted she put her coat back on.

“We’re not handing out free shows here,” he
hissed in her ear. “Save yourself for the ones who put food in your mouth.”

Rosie found herself plied with more drinks
and sent to a private room with mirrors and low lighting. She settled herself
on one of the sofas and admired her long thin legs as she stretched them out
before her. Why did she shy away from skirts? she found herself wondering; she
had great legs. The sofa felt comfortable beneath her and she lay down,
giggling as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror on the ceiling.
She almost felt embarrassed seeing such a large image of herself in so few
clothes, and as she studied her reflection for what felt like the first time in
ages, she was shocked by how much her hair had grown and how much older she
looked.

Her little room soon became popular, men
coming and going, some for a kiss and a grope, others staying longer. But Rosie
was unsure of the time, her eyes refusing to stay open, as each face merged
into one. All she could hear were distant, echoing voices in her ears as if she
were under water; her head bobbing dizzily on the surface, before sinking down
and down into the murky blackness where all was quiet, then rising slowly
again, the voices and music becoming louder until all she could hear was heavy
breathing and grunting. 

Rosie rode this wave of uncertainty and
confusion for what felt like hours. Why was she feeling like this? Sometimes
she tried to sit up but something heavy was always pushing her down.

Suddenly she vomited. Her body became
lighter and she could hear a man’s voice swearing somewhere nearby. Then Silas
was there, standing over her, pulling at her arms that refused to bring her
body with them. He seemed to be shouting but Rosie couldn’t understand why. Her
mouth tasted horrible and she asked for a drink, but Silas pulled her to her
feet and she staggered out of the room, past the bar and out into the cold
night air. She felt sure it had been daylight when she’d gone into the club.
How long had she been in there?

Rosie awoke to the familiar orange glow
from the streetlights. She tried to move but her body screamed out in pain.
What had happened to her? She called out,
Mai-Li
! And, as if by magic,
Mai-Li was at her side.

“It’s ok, you’re safe now,” came Mai-Li’s
soothing voice.

Rosie felt something cool on her forehead
and then nothing.

When she awoke again the light from the
windows pierced her eyes like red-hot pokers. Her head pounded, her body ached.
She could hear crying next to her. She reached out her hand towards the sound
and someone took hold and squeezed.

“It’s ok, I’m fine,” Rosie heard herself
say. “Don’t cry.”

“Sorry, it’s just that it’s almost worse
when you see someone else after engagements coz you realise that’s what you
look like.”

“Oh thanks!” said Rosie, attempting a
smile. “Do I look that bad?”

“Well, to be honest, you did look better
before you left. But it’s nothing that won’t heal, on the outside anyway.”

“I don’t really remember what happened
though, so maybe that’s a good thing,” said Rosie, creasing her forehead as she
tried to recall the last twenty-four hours.

“That’s the one good thing about Silas, he
likes his women soft and agreeable, not stiff and reluctant, so he slips what
he calls ‘looseners’ into the drinks he gives you,” said Mai-Li. “It means
you’re so out of it you rarely remember or feel a thing, until afterwards that
is. It often comes back in nightmares, but you can leave it there, in your
dreams, if you keep really busy while you’re awake.”

“You mean I’ve taken drugs?” asked Rosie,
suddenly recognising the familiar feeling of a comedown.

“Believe me, it’s the best way to go. You
don’t want to be alert at any stage of the engagements,” said Mai-Li, sniffing
and wiping her nose on her arm. “Remember you asked me how come I’m so happy a
lot of the time considering what’s happened to me?”

Rosie nodded.

“Well, mostly it’s because I rarely
remember anything. My mind has been so messed up by Silas’ shit that I can
barely remember my family or my home anymore.”

Rosie thought of her own home but it looked
different now, smaller, further away. In the beginning it was where she longed
to be more than any other place on earth, but now she felt a bit like Mai-Li,
like she couldn’t remember what she had been missing. She wasn’t sure what had
suddenly changed or whether it was something that had been happening slowly
over time, but the longing she had felt to be home with her family was dying,
and memories of her life before all this were starting to fade. She feared that
if someone didn’t find her soon there would be nothing left of her but an
empty, lifeless shell.

Rosie tried to swing her legs out of the
bed but they felt so heavy. She leant up on one elbow and tried to stop the
room spinning. Her mouth felt like an old carpet and she reached for the water
that Mai-Li had put by the bed.

“You hungry?” asked Mai-Li, taking the
glass off Rosie as she tried to put it back on the table. Rosie shook her head,
the thought of food made her head spin more and her arm gave way and she
slumped back on the bed.

“I’m gonna make something anyway so I’ll
make extra for you in case you feel hungry later,” said Mai-Li, bustling out of
the room.

Rosie wondered how someone who couldn’t be
more than thirteen or fourteen could be so mature beyond her years. She had
just reminded Rosie so much of her mum that her heart lurched at the thought
and tears cascaded uncontrollably from her eyes. The numbness she’d woken up to
was beginning to subside and unimaginable sadness was trying to take its place.

Rosie tried to stand again. She couldn’t
just lie there thinking, it was likely to send her insane. Like Mai-Li said;
best to keep busy. She looked out through the barred window for the first time,
cars flashed in the sunlight as they passed on the other side of the trees, on
their way to anywhere but here. Rosie felt so jealous of those cars and the
people in them; even the most mundane desperate life had to be better than the
one she was living now.

“There’s no way out, believe me I’ve
tried,” said Mai-Li as she entered the room. She was carrying a plate of toast
and two cups of tea, and Rosie sat down, finally submitting to the hunger that
had been lying dormant in her stomach.

“How long have you been here?” asked Rosie,
working a piece of toast round her dry, sore mouth.

Mai-Li looked up at the ceiling in
contemplation. “Um, not sure, you lose track of time, yer know? Maybe a year,
might even be two.”

Rosie felt ill at the thought of such a
long time in a place like this. She couldn’t get her head around how Mai-Li
remained so seemingly normal under such circumstances. Could it really be a
lifestyle that you could get used to in time? Surely the body and mind had
limits to such abuse.

The lock turned in the door and one of the
Norwegian girls walked in. Her face was red and blotchy, there was blood on her
top lip, and she had bruises up her arms.

Rosie looked at Mai-Li questioningly but
she just shrugged. They both sat watching, waiting for an explanation but the
girl merely lay on her bed and shivered uncontrollably.

Rosie got up, wincing from the pain, and
went over to her.

“Are you ok?” she asked quietly.

Mai-Li came and sat on the floor beside the
bed.

“What happened Jelena?”

It seemed like she couldn’t speak, her
teeth were chattering and her breathing was erratic.

“Shh,” soothed Mai-Li. “Try to relax your
body and slow your breathing, you’re hyperventilating.”

Jelena shook her head, burying her face in
her pillow, where she let out a scream that ripped through Rosie and tore at
her very being. She had never heard anything so gut-wrenching in her life.
Tears immediately sprang into her eyes and began to wend their familiar way
down her cheeks.

Jelena sobbed and sobbed until she was a
broken, sodden rag-doll of a person, whilst Rosie and Mai-Li sat solemnly by
the bed stroking her gently.

When it seemed like Jelena could not
possibly have any sadness left in her she stopped crying and lay staring
empty-eyed. Rosie and Mai-Li looked at each other, neither knowing what to do,
so they got up and tip-toed out of the room hoping Jelena would sleep for a
while.

“What could have happened?” Rosie asked
Mai-Li when they’d shut the door to the kitchen.

“The worst.”

“What’s the worst?”

“Well, do you see Tihana anywhere?”

“You mean…?”

Mai-Li nodded.

“Does that really happen?” Rosie asked,
somewhat sceptically.

Mai-Li let out a burst of laughter that was
devoid of humour.

“It’s nearly happened to me several times,
and if you’re here for long enough it could easily happen to you too.”

Mai-Li seemed almost angry with her, and
Rosie felt like a small naive child who wasn’t yet privy to the true workings
of life.

“But I didn’t know…” whispered Rosie.

Rosie suddenly became aware that Jelena was
standing in the doorway. Her face was ashen; she looked like a walking corpse.
Mai-Li went over to her and guided her gently to a seat. Her bruises looked
angry and her lip had swollen to match her puffy red eyes.

Mai-Li busied herself making tea, so all
Rosie could do was sit next to Jelena and feel awkward about her ignorance.
Jelena seemed unable to sit still, she picked at her nails and pulled at her
hair, her eyes darted about as if seeing things that weren’t there.

“It should have been me,” she whispered,
stroking her bruised arms.

Rosie put her hand tentatively on her
shoulder and Jelena winced away from it. Rosie felt even more awkward and
dejected as she took back her hand.

“What happened Jelena?” said Mai-Li,
setting a cup of tea down on the table.

“I can’t tell you. I know not how to put in
words; not English words anyway. There
are
no words to say what Tihana
suffered before she died… and they made me watch it all.”

She looked around as if searching for a
better way to explain, then picked up a knife. She engraved a round head shape
on the table and then cut a smile right across the face that extended further
than a normal smile would. She then placed three vertical lines leading up into
it and etched below them the words ‘Devil’s Fork’.

“That’s what they call it, the men who did
this to her. They made her mouth wider to fit…”

Rosie gasped as she realised what Jelena
was describing. Mai-Li shot her a look that silenced her horror.

Jelena moved the blade of the knife slowly
over her wrist and started to make an incision. Rosie realised what she was
doing and grabbed her arm, pulling the knife from her hand.