Authors: Emily Pattullo
There was shouting somewhere. Who was
shouting? Rosie tried to open her eyes but they wouldn’t, like something was
pressing them shut. She tried to move her arm to pull herself up but it was
stuck behind her back.
Suddenly she felt someone pull something
off her head and the blinding light made her eyes shut tight in agony.
“Four big men like you had to tie a tiny
defenceless girl up! Was she too much for you?” The voice Rosie now recognised
as Zaydain’s continued to shout. Someone pulled at her arms. Untying them?
“What’s wrong with you? You can pay extra
for these bruises. No one else will want her looking like this. I’ll have to
cancel other clients!”
“She started off taking it like a lamb and
then she went wild, biting and scratching. Look at my arm,” said another voice.
“Oh dear, poor you. You were scratched by a
little girl!”
“I might need a tetanus. I didn’t pay for
that! We paid for pleasure not pain!”
Rosie tried to open her eyes as she was
pulled to her feet. They hurt, as did her whole body. She stood, wobbling,
squinting at the men around her. The room was a mess, and they all looked thoroughly
wasted.
Zaydain made a call on his phone and soon
Griff was taking Rosie’s weight and leading her outside. Her body screamed out
in agony with every step, but she was so glad to be leaving that awful place
that she didn’t care. Griff opened the door and half lifted her into the car,
laying a blanket over her legs. Rosie managed a weak smile. Griff smiled back.
She could see tears glistening in his pale eyes. Maybe he was here against his
own will too, thought Rosie, after all he never seemed happy, in fact most of
the time he looked sad and apologetic.
Rosie tried to move her aching legs and get
comfortable whilst they waited for Zaydain. She tried not to think about where
exactly her body was hurting or why. Griff shot her an occasional nervous glance,
silent as always.
“Do you have any water?” Rosie asked
tentatively.
Griff rummaged around on the floor by his
feet and pulled out a bottle of water. Rosie drank hungrily, not caring if it
had been there for weeks and had other people’s saliva in it. The water soothed
her sore mouth. Rosie searched her memory for why her mouth could possibly be
hurting but nothing emerged from the blackness. There was something familiar
about the confusion and exhaustion she was feeling, though. Had she been
drugged?
Zaydain swung into the driver’s seat,
looking back at her briefly before swearing and cursing Gabriel for making them
bring her.
The journey back in the car was such agony
on Rosie’s damaged body that she was actually happy when they arrived back at
the flat. She wondered what she must look like but the expressions on the
others’ faces when she walked in told her everything she needed to know.
They gathered around her as she sat on her
mattress, her pain reflected in their eyes as each filled with silent tears.
Utibe stroked Rosie’s face, Lo held her hand, and Baduwa placed her arm gently
around her shoulders as they huddled together in mutual grief for all they had
lost. Rosie sought out her family’s faces in her mind, taking comfort in their
smiles. She was afraid she would forget what they looked like and they were all
she had to give her hope.
They must have fallen asleep in each
other’s arms because Rosie awoke to bright sunlight streaming through the
window and her body aching as she tried to move. Lo grunted and turned away
from her as she got slowly to her feet and staggered to the bathroom. She was
pleased there was no mirror to tempt her to look at herself but as she pulled
her skirt up she saw that her thighs were purple and red with rage. Tears
welled in her eyes again as she longed for her mum. It had always been her that
had made everything better, had bathed her cuts when she fell, had hugged the
pain away. She screamed silently, willing her to hear and come and save her.
I’m
here mummy, I’m here. Please find me.
There was a knock at the door and Baduwa
came into the bathroom.
“Are you ok? You’ve been in here for a
while and I could hear you crying.”
Rosie nodded, but she wasn’t, and she
suspected Baduwa knew it.
Baduwa tore off some toilet paper and ran
it under the cold tap. As she gently soothed Rosie’s burning bruises with its
coolness she whispered, “I think my father sold me.”
Rosie looked up through aching eyes. The
ringing in her ears was distorting Baduwa’s voice; it sounded like she was on
the other side of some thick glass.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot ever
since things turned out not to be how they had first seemed, and it’s the only
explanation. You remember I told you I met a man in Nigeria who offered to
bring me here and promised me a house and a job and money?”
Rosie nodded, finally catching up with what
Baduwa was talking about.
“Well I recognised him a little bit but I
couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before. But then I remembered last night.
He was a friend of a man who worked for my dad. I’d seen him once at church and
he’d stared at me the whole way through and made me nervous. Dad definitely
knew him because they greeted each other like old friends. Anyway, it was a few
months after that that he started hanging around and promising me the world.”
Baduwa paused to run some more paper under
the tap.
“Dad talked me into it. I didn’t even want
to leave home but he said if I didn’t I was making more work for my mum who
already had three daughters to look after. I miss my mum,” she whispered.
Rosie put her arms around Baduwa. “Me too,”
she whispered back.
“She didn’t want me to leave, I know she
didn’t. She kept crying and telling me I didn’t have to go, but I wanted to
please my father and I didn’t want to be a burden. And really I was quite
excited. It was a chance to make a difference, to be special and beautiful. And
I thought I could make a nice home and then they could all come and live with
me here. But that’s never going to happen is it? I’m going to live like this
for the rest of my life and never see my mama again.” She sobbed into Rosie’s
shoulder as Rosie held her tightly.
“We’ll get out of here, we will,” promised
Rosie, a new determination building in her heart. At that moment Rosie resolved
to find a way to get them all out. Whatever it took, she would make it her
mission to drag them from this hellhole and get them back to people that loved
and cared for them. It wasn’t just her anymore, there were four of them, and
each deserved their freedom.
When they walked back into the bedroom they
found a tray of food. There was also a tube of arnica cream. Rosie smiled; that
had to be from Griff.
They ate in silence, Rosie hardly flinching
at the quality of the food this time, as hunger became a blissful distraction
from all other feelings.
Not long after they had finished eating,
the door opened and Zaydain walked in. He threw clothes down in front of Utibe
and Baduwa. He looked Rosie up and down, taking in her appearance before
clenching his teeth and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Utibe and Baduwa looked at the clothes, by now they knew what this meant,
although Utibe had yet to be engaged by anyone. Despite the warm relief that
flooded her body, Rosie felt guilty that she wasn’t going with them. They were
all suffering at the hands of the same enemy and it felt wrong, almost weak, to
be letting them face it alone.
“Let’s get this over with,” said Baduwa
resignedly, pulling on the skirt. Rosie saw with slight fear that Utibe still
seemed unsure of what was going on, she was just copying everything Baduwa did.
They changed in silence, each dealing with the inevitable in their own way.
Rosie helped them do up buttons and tidy hair. She gently fastened Baduwa’s
pretty clip, knowing that looking the best she could, whatever the situation,
really mattered to her and gave her the confidence to hold her head high.
Baduwa’s hazel eyes met Rosie’s and suddenly they were speaking a thousand
words between them without opening their mouths. Rosie flung her arms around
Baduwa and pulled Utibe close too.
“Remember, find a good memory and go
there.”
The door opened and Zaydain merely stood
holding it open. Baduwa and Utibe obediently walked out through it.
“You too,” said Zaydain, pointing at Lo.
Rosie looked in horror at Lo’s terrified face as he stood cowering by his
mattress. Zaydain shouted at him to hurry but Lo’s feet seemed glued to the
spot. Rosie walked over to Lo and knelt down in front of him.
“You have to go or he’ll hurt you. I’ll be
waiting here when you get back,” she said hugging him. She knew he probably
didn’t understand but hoped her voice would reassure him. She stood and held
his hand and walked him to the door. Zaydain slammed the door behind them,
leaving Rosie standing on her own in a sea of clothes and sadness.
The time seemed to go so slowly as Rosie
waited for them to return. She felt like a concerned mother whose children were
out late at night, except that it wasn’t late at night, it was the middle of
the day which meant they had been taken to someone’s house like she had been.
Flashes of what had happened to her came and went at will and mostly when she
was trying to think of something else. She conjured the image of her family
again but the faces kept changing to those of the men in the house, their
leering expressions bearing down on her. She tried to shake them out of her
head by reciting song lyrics and quoting from her favourite movies, but nothing
seemed to clear her mind. She longed for a distraction, anything.
Rosie fetched her own clothes from beside
her mattress; at least they would be more comfortable than the ones she was
still wearing, though not much cleaner. She shook out the jeans in an attempt
to expel some of the grime and as she did so a piece of paper fluttered to the
floor. She picked it up wondering what it could be and saw the photograph of
Ted bouncing naked on the bed; it was the one she’d taken from his room. She
gasped as the memory beat the breath from her body and dropped her to the
floor. And suddenly she was fighting for air, tears pouring down her face. She
couldn’t breathe! Every childhood memory flicked through her mind like scenes
past a speeding train’s window, and she fought to capture every one and hold it
close. But gradually the images slowed as her breathing returned to normal and
she lay staring empty eyed at the picture of her brother, now soaked with
tears.
After a long time Rosie peeled herself off
the floor and put on her clothes. She wandered over to the window. Her
reflection was faint in the glass but she didn’t look too closely, she looked
past it into the now grey day. Beyond the high metal gate that bounded her
prison, and down a narrow street, cars and people rushed along the road that
she could see in the distance, so oblivious to the nightmare that was unfolding
just a short distance from them. Directly across the road from where she was
looking was what looked like a small boutique shop, and a café, simply called
The Tea Rooms. As she gazed at the glass front that listed ‘Coffee, Tea, Cakes
and other Sweet Delights’, Rosie longed for a chocolate milkshake.
Suddenly the door opened. It was Griff. He
looked sheepishly into the room and then shut the door behind him. In his hand
he had a can of fizzy and a chocolate bar. He handed both to Rosie who took
them gratefully.
“Thank you.”
Griff nodded and smiled. Rosie stood
feeling awkward, embarrassed by her tear-stained eyes and unsure of what he
wanted as he looked around the room and back at her, not leaving.
“Ccan I sit with you ffor a bit?” he
stammered, twisting his hands together. Rosie was so surprised she just said
of
course
and gestured to her mattress for him to sit on. Rosie guessed the
others must have taken Baduwa, Utibe and Lo out and left Griff to guard her.
Something suddenly occurred to Rosie and
her heart started pounding as she desperately thought how she could do it. She
sat next to Griff and opened her can. She wasn’t sure how long she had on her
own with him.
“Would you like some?” she asked, moving
closer to offer him the drink.
He shook his head.
“What about some chocolate?” Griff nodded
at that and Rosie broke him off a piece. He nibbled it like a mouse as Rosie
took large bites, letting the delicious sweetness fill her swollen mouth.
Rosie took a deep breath; it was now or
never. “So, do you have a girlfriend?”
Griff shook his head, covering his ears as
if he didn’t want to hear her questions.
“Surely you must. Or maybe you really like
a girl?” Rosie pushed.
Griff shook his head.
Rosie gasped theatrically. “I knew it,
there is a girl you like! What’s her name?”
Griff pulled his jumper over his face, and
Rosie feared she might have pushed too far too soon.
“Do you get the chance to take girls out?”
she persevered. “You seem to be very busy with work most of the time.”
Griff peeped out through the neck of his
jumper and looked down at his feet.