Chapter 58: Chapter 58: The Girl Who Came Back - Chapter Fourteen

In the bar, I serve tables, trying to dodge around the groping hands of louts who think that I am on the menu. I slapped one once, and it almost lost me my job. “Hey, Pete was just fooling around…” was the attitude of my boss, Ben.

Take orders, serve tables, clear tables, load dishwasher, clean tables…. it goes on and on…

I am cleaning stinking grease off a counter. Figures move close, to occupy a table. “I’ll just be a moment,” I say. “Nearly done here.” I pull out my pad and pencil. “What can I get you?”

“Two coffees, please.” says a familiar voice. I startle, looking up to see Michael and James.

“Mind if we sit here?” asks James.

“It’s a public place, and it’s not my bar….”

I am interrupted by Ben. “Hey, Jenny, table four needs serving too.”

“Yes, boss,” I say wearily.

Both men look shocked. “Jenny?” asks Michael.

Hands on hips, I stare at them. “’Jennifer’ is what it says on my passport. ‘Charlotte’ is a fantasy, remember? She always was.”

I turn on my heel, and ask Samantha to serve them instead, while I go deal with table four.

*****

Shift over, I return to the flat, collapsing onto my bed. I should read a textbook I’m working on, but I want to sleep.

Still fully clothed, I drop onto the blankets, and pull the duvet over myself, trying to ignore the smell of mushrooms that clothes everything in here. Barely have I closed my eyes, when there is a knock at the door.

For a moment, I simply stare at the ceiling. I know who is on the other side of the door. Perhaps if I ignore it, stay quiet, they will go away.

Michael’s voice: “Charlotte, Jenny, whatever you’re calling yourself; open up. We know you’re in there.”

I get up and open the door. “You followed me? What are you now? My stalkers?”

Michael looks angry, James upset. Both push past me into the miserable room.

“You’re living here?” demands James. “In an area like this?”

“And working in that dump of a café,” says Michael. “Why?”

“A girl’s gotta eat and pay rent, and to do that, she has to work.” I snap.

“In this miserable place?” demands James. “What happened to the money you had? And the money I sent you?”

“The money I had, I still have, because I am going to need it to fund the next year or so. And I don’t know anything about any money that you sent me.”

“I paid it to your bank, to see you alright.” He sees my blank look. “You haven’t checked your account recently?”

“No need. I’m living on my earnings. And if you sent money, I’ll damn well send it back. I am not available for purchase!”

Michael is silent. “Charlotte,” says James, holding out his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to know that you’re okay. Not living like…” He waves his hand around the room. “…. not living like this.”

“It’s my life! My choices! Now, Go to Hell! The pair of you. I have to go out now.”

I am lying. I have nowhere to go. I want nothing more than to sleep, but I need to escape from this situation.

“Will you please leave, both of you. I am going out now.”

They step out of the room. I pull the door shut on the latch and walk away. As I descend the urine-

stinking staircase, I still hear them, talking quietly.

Outside, I have no clear idea of where I am going. I have left my bag, purse and money in the flat. Even to buy a cup of coffee, I need to go back inside. But Michael and James are still in there, and I do not want to return until they leave.

I stand out on the dark street, wishing I had at least thought to bring a jacket.

“Hello, darlin’,” says a voice. “What do you charge? I’ve got thirty on me…”

The man is tall, and I can’t make out his features. “Sorry,” I mutter, turning away. “You’ve made a mistake.”

But as I turn, there is another. “Well, I can add another fifty to the pot, love. C’mon. Two of us together eh? And you’ll not need to work again tonight.”

“No, sorry,” I reply. “But I’m not who you’re looking for.”

He grabs me by the arm, pulling me towards him, his friend moving closer, crowding me in. “Well, maybe we’ll just have it for free then.” Close up, his breath is sour. His clothes reek of unwashed body and poverty.

The two of them press me back against the wall. I am struggling, fighting back. “Get off me!” One of them I might have had a chance with, but two of them….

“Clap your hand over her mouth. Where shall we take her?”

“The alley round the back. No-one goes down there…”

I am trying to scream, but a hand is firmly over my mouth. Dragging me all the way, my arms pinned, I can do nothing as the two haul me into the dark alley entrance.

“I’ll hold her. You go first….”

And now, Michael and James are here. “What the fuck d’you think you’re doing with her?”

As the men square up to fight, I am flung to one side, slung sideways. Losing my balance and my footing, I try to roll to break my fall, but my head smashes into the brick wall and….

*****

“How do you feel?”

The question seems to come from nowhere, a voice in my head, as I stare at a blank white space.

How do I feel?

I have a crashing headache.

Trembling, I touch my head, to find it bandaged. I try to sit up, but my stomach rebels, retching, threatening to bring up its contents.

“No. Lie still. You have concussion. The doctor will be back soon to take another look at you.”

Then my vision clears. The blank whiteness is a ceiling. Moving my head carefully, in case it falls off my neck, I look across the room. My Master…. James… is sitting there, leaning forward on to his knees.

Michael is standing behind him.

Rolling my eyes around the room, it suddenly makes sense. I am back in the beach house, in the four-

poster bed the three of us shared.

“You kidnapped me?” I would like to be incredulous, but it would take too much energy. My voice is weak. I can barely speak above a whisper.

“Don’t go into a panic,” says Michael, holding up a hand and pointing. “James is sleeping next door that way, and I’m sleeping next door that way. This is your room.”

Again, I try to sit up. The roiling in my stomach seems a little less.

“Want a drink?” says James. “Need to pee?”

My bladder is sending urgent signals. “I need the bathroom, yes.” I try to stand, but my knees buckle.

Michael sweeps me up in his arms, carrying me to the bathroom.

“I can manage,” I snap, as he deposits me.

“No, you can’t,” he says. “Let go of your damn pride. With some of the things you and I have done together, d’you think that answering nature is something that should embarrass you?” But he pointedly turns his back.

“You done?” he asks after a minute.

“Yes.”

He picks me up again and puts me back in the bed.

“Doctor’s here,” says James.

*****

Half an hour later, the doctor has looked me over and pronounced no serious damage, no fractures, or other lasting damage.

So, why do I feel so lousy?

“Is there someone to keep an eye on her for a few days?” asks the doctor.

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She hands Michael a card. “Call this number if there are any problems in the meantime.”

Michael leaves to show her out, James sitting there, looking at me, resting his chin on steepled fingers.