The People Traders (6 page)

He grinned, showing rows of shining teeth. "Do you want me to?"

Karen shrugged. "Whatever I said you'll do what you want, so why should I bother to answer? That's unless you want me on my knees, begging for my life? That I'll never do and, as you so bluntly put it, I have no life now."

The room fell silent except for the constant background noise of the engines often vibrating items about the room as the ship encountered the resistance of waves, making the engines work harder.

"You know," Assam began, "for a pretty girl like you, life may not be that bad. Plenty of men would want to be with you. So it's really up to you to make the most of what you've got. See it as a challenge and maybe, just maybe, one man will want you enough to think about a family life with you."

Karen sighed, '
The same words as the cook, do they really think I'm going to fall for it?
' she thought to herself. Then she looked at him watching her. "You're saying the only choice I have for the rest of my life is to offer myself around like some prostitute, in the hope someone will take pity and want more than something to shag? You've got to be joking, I'd rather die."

Assam smiled. "I've had many girls sit there just like you, Karen, and say the very same words. Listen, sixty percent of women in the world don't get a choice. Many, even when they do, are treated like slaves, often beaten if they object. In your own country it's just as rife as any other. What makes you so special that you'll not dance to the tune? What makes you so certain you wouldn't make the wrong choice?"

She shrugged. "At least it'd be my choice."

He stood and made his way to the door. "Come on, it's time you were locked up for the night."

She followed and they walked along the side of the ship. Suddenly, Assam grabbed her arm and pulled her to the rail. Pushing her head forward over the side with one hand and grasping the back of her pants with the other, he forced her to look down into the dark and murky waters below.

"So you'd rather die, would you?" he shouted into her ear above the noise of the wind. "I'll tell you what; I'm a fair man, I've been paid, so I'll give you your chance to do just that. Mind you this time it won't be like the jump from my dinghy. This, Karen, is a bigger jump, miles from land with the water so cold, in less than an hour you'll be dead. It'll give you just enough time to think about your home, family or whatever else comes into your head before you die. So are you ready to jump?"

Karen stared down into the darkness; her body was shaking not only with the cold of the night, but in fear. He was offering her a get-out, a chance to escape, except it wasn't an escape, it was certain death and Karen didn't want to die like this, alone with a man who hated and despised her. But he was beginning to lift her bodily by her pants, pushing her forward and over the rail. She began to struggle, begging him to stop, at the same time grasping the rails tightly in her hands.

Then suddenly he stopped, and pulled her away from the side, his face inches from hers. "Then it was all talk, this wanting to die, was it? Given the choice you've decided to cling to life?"

She didn't reply.

"I told you, Karen," he screamed at her. "You answer immediately when I ask a question, or isn't your bottom sore enough yet?

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir, I don't want the strap again. You're right. I was acting stupid and just saying it. I don't want to die," she answered instantly.

He stood for a moment, looking into her eyes. Through the tears forming he could see the terror he was instilling into the girl. Then, satisfied, he grasped her arm, moving her quickly down the ship and stopping at a hold.

"That's your sleeping quarters. Down the ladder and I'll be back in the morning."

She did as he asked but he stopped her, grabbing her arm just as she started to descend. "Think about what I've said tonight and what's just happened. Have no illusions, as far as I'm concerned, you're an investment. I've already been paid but could make a little more. Make the wrong decision, force me to beat you into submission and you're worth nothing. Perhaps then you'd get your wish."

She looked up at him and their eyes met. "What's that?" she asked.

"To die, what else did you think? Go home?"

Not replying, she climbed down the long steps.

Assam looked down into the gloom. "Choose death, kid, and don't, for one moment, believe it'll be quick. The lads are bound to pay for, shall I say, entertainment. That's until we get close to port, then I'm afraid it's a short swim for you. Mind you, with a few selected cuts to your body the sharks won't waste time in finding you."

He slammed the hatch closed and she heard the grating of bolts. Looking away from the entrance, Karen blinked in the gloom; her accommodation couldn't be much worse. The hold was lit with one bulkhead light surrounded by a wire frame. All around her were packing cases twice her height and two or three metres square. As the ship lurched in the swell, the cases creaked under the strain, giving a constant frightening sound above the noise of the engines. In a corner a camp bed had been laid out with blankets thrown on top. Alongside was a portable toilet, a small table and on top, a tin cup and flask.

She went to the bed, pulled the blankets straight, then climbed inside. The day had been bearable, the work very little. After the first encounter with the two crew members, the cook had kept her away from others coming in to eat. At the same time he warned her not to talk to other crew members about her problems. Assam had lots of eyes and ears, so almost certainly he would hear about it. However, after the conversation and news report in Assam's room, followed by the incident on deck, her confidence was at an all-time low. She couldn't help feeling that what had already happened would be nothing to what the future held for her.

CHAPTER 5

The following two days were the same; working again in the kitchen, with Garrett coming at the end of the day and taking her back to the hold. However, this time Assam collected her in the early evening and took her back to his cabin.

"There's a shower through there," nodding towards a door, "when you're finished I want to talk to you. We've many things to sort out."

She thanked him, asking if he had a toothbrush.

He pulled open a drawer to his desk, handing her an old used one. "I've no toothpaste," he commented.

"I'll use salt if you have any, my mother always used salt, she swore by it," Karen replied.

He removed a small salt-cellar from his cupboard, passing it her. Just as she was going into the bathroom he called her back.

"The bottom drawer of that chest, Karen," he said pointing at a chest in the corner of his cabin. "Open it, will you? You'll find a brown bag with clothes inside. Put them on after your shower then rinse what you're wearing in the hand bowl."

Within seconds she was standing under the warm cascade of water. It felt good. With working in the kitchen, her hair was full of grease, her body smelling. Quickly drying herself, she opened the bag, but her heart sank. Inside was a pair of knickers so tiny they would hardly cover her, a short-sleeved blouse which tied with a knot at the front, and tight silk shorts. Dressing quickly, she stood for a moment in front of the mirror, combing her hair. Dressed this way she felt decidedly uncomfortable, but with these or nothing, there was no option but to wear them. Going back into the cabin, Assam looked her up and down. "You're looking better; I've a drink here for you."

She thanked him and sipped it slowly. The liquid caught her throat and she began coughing. The drink was neat vodka. "May I have some water with it please, it's too strong like this, I'll be sick?" she gasped.

He pushed a jug of water over to her. "I forgot you're a landlubber, sailors don't water their drinks. What do you think of the clothes then?"

She looked at him for a moment before answering, not wanting to dissuade him from giving her extra clothes. The knickers and t-shirt she'd worn since arriving on the ship were dirty and were clinging, leaving little to the imagination.

"I like the blouse, it's really cool, but the shorts are a bit small for me. I hope you don't want me to wear this outfit in the kitchen tomorrow because they'd be ruined?"

"No, I've found you a pair of jeans and a jumper. The cook was saying you're distracting the crew too much, dressed as you are. He can't get them back out to work," Assam replied, trying to make light of the conversation.

She breathed a sigh of relief.
'Thank God,'
she thought. By now she'd drunk nearly a whole glass and Assam filled it again.

He lit a cigarette. "I suppose you've had thoughts about your comments and your desire to die, rather than live, like I propose?"

Karen looked a bit sheepish. "I was perhaps a bit hasty, I really don't want to die but I do desperately want to go home. Can't you at least call my dad? He's bound to come to some sort of deal where you could make money."

Assam took a large gulp of his own drink then leaned back. "You know, you confuse me. Your portrayal of the little schoolgirl at home with mummy and daddy doesn't ring true. How about you clear a few things up before I give you an answer?"

"Like what?" she asked.

He smiled then drew a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, before lighting one slowly. "I'm a simple man, Karen. I'll ask the questions, you answer and then, perhaps later, I'll answer some of yours."

She shrugged. "If you want, I've all night. In fact I've all my life according to you."

A flicker of a smile crossed his face. "We'll see, Karen, we'll see. Anyway let's see how it goes shall we? Did you have a boyfriend?" he asked indifferently.

She grinned. "Yes, but why do you want to know about him?"

"I said I'll ask, you answer. So what about dancing, did you go to many dance clubs?"

"Of course I did. How many girls of my age don't?"

"You like to dance then?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

"How old was your boyfriend, did he go dancing with you as well?"

She shook her head. "I'd go with my girlfriends. Grant, my boyfriend, is twenty-one and wouldn't be seen dead in the discos we go to."

Assam pretended to look concerned. "If he wouldn't go dancing, which you say you loved doing, why did you stay with him?"

"Why not?" she asked, "it's really cool to have somebody of that age who wants to go out with you, besides, my friends were really jealous," She sniggered. "Their boyfriends were from the boys’ school; had no money to take them out and more often than not they'd just hang round the streets, while Grant told me when he got a weekend off, he'd take me to some really expensive place." She frowned, adding a sigh. "He hasn't taken me as yet, you see he works late at weekends and I could only stay out on Saturdays till eleven. The rest of the week I'd loads of homework, or when I did get out, I'd have to be in for ten. Mind you, that will change in July when I leave school. You see we're getting engaged... or," she hesitated, "we would have done."

Assam smiled to himself, the drink was relaxing her; she was moving closer into his trap. "Let's not go down that route, Karen. But this guy interests me, lads at that age, taking young girls out, are more demanding, aren't they? They wouldn't be interested in just holding hands. Wouldn't they expect more?"

She looked confused. "How do you mean, more?" she asked.

He said nothing for a minute, watching her sip the drink. "I suppose I'm saying, what have you to offer him as a girlfriend? You've said it was difficult to go out in the week and he wasn't really available at weekends. Where was this relationship going?"

Karen grinned mischievously. "I didn't say we never saw each other in the week. We did… you see Grant would pick me up from school at least three times a week."

Assam nodded, as if understanding. "But wouldn't he feel a bit stupid walking home with a girl wearing a school uniform? All his friends would rib him for cradle-snatching."

By now Karen was feeling decidedly tipsy, beginning to giggle. "Grant liked me in my uniform; actually he preferred my skirt shorter. So I'd turn the waist over a couple of times. That shortened it a few inches. My mum would have gone mad if she'd known, so I only did it after leaving school and when I was meeting Grant. It was a little short though; I always had trouble not showing my knickers when I sat down."

Assam pretended to laugh. "You mean he's a bit kinky and liked to see your knickers?" he teased.

She looked indignant. "No, Grant loved me. He just said I had nice legs and should show them off."

"How do you know he loved you?"

"He told me loads of times."

Assam lit another cigarette and leaned back. Karen had taken the opportunity to drink more of the vodka, even though she already felt light-headed.

"So this boyfriend, who kept saying he was in love with you, would hang about outside the school. Then he'd walk you home, or did you go somewhere else?"

Karen frowned. "I don't understand what you're getting at, we never walked, he'd a car and always took me to his flat."

"Why always to his flat, Karen? Surely you could have gone to a cafe bar or some other place; after all, he never took you out at night?"