The two girls, Maria and Karin, left in the late autumn to find their fortune in London. Erroneously, they thought that to get on in London, they had to put their best assets on display. For both girls that had meant scouring clothes shops for fashions they could afford which resembled the pictures in music magazines. Thus they stood together by the slip-road onto the M3. Each had a battered case, but springy new jeans-and-blouse outfits with enough chain and metal bits to allure motor-bikers, and enough shiny silky bits to allude to a promising femininity. They did not have to wait long for a lift. A huge lorry picked up the two girls. Karin flopped lumpily into the seat next to the gear lever. Maria came after and sat by the window watching the country pass away behind her. Their four tight legs were a constant attraction for the driver’s eye. His grubby T-shirt was stretched across an expanded tummy, but he was quite a young man with muscular arms, long dark sideboards and a glint in his friendly face that matched his chirpy way of talking.
“Why’n’t you girls ’n school?!
Karin flashed a cocky smile at him, “What? Nah, we left school. Long time ago. Going up to London,” she paused in case the momentous event that they talked about, and planned for so long was not so impressive to him. “I suppose you’re always going up to London.”
“S’right.” He was reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket hanging behind the window. “Al’as in London. Portsmouth-London, London-Portsmouth. Tha’s the job. I done it three year, now.”
“I bet you know London pretty well.”
“Yea, s’right. There’s some good bits, a’right. S’bad news taking an’old trolley as this un aroun’ the streets.” He had found his packet of cigarettes. “Y’not been afore. T’London?”
“Oh, yes – course. We’re going to live there.”
“Ah! Leavin’ ’ome, eh? I’m still with my Mum,” he smiled at himself. “No reason t’leave, is’t?” Scept, I go drivin’. Friend in Isling’on. Sleep on ’is floor. What about y’ friend. She’s leavin’ ’ome too?” He looked around Karin’s bouncy form at Maria’s pretty face, steadily looking at the road ahead.
“My name’s Karin. Hers is Maria,” Karin nudged Maria as she spoke her name and looked at her.
“My Mum lives in London,” Maria said turning to look at them.
“Yeah, but she hasn’t seen her Mum for a long time. What about your friend in Islington – could he put us up, too? “ Karin’s commanding presence turned away from Maria who subsided gratefully into her solitary trance again, numbed by the jolting rhythm of the lorry.
“Cou’d be.” He said noncommittally.
“What’s your name then?” Karin asked it with a tone of personal invitation.
“Gary,” he said shortly. He offered her a cigarette.
Karin took one and handed the packet back, “She dun’t smoke?” referring to Maria. “Give’s a ligh’, then.” And she chuckled as he handed over the matches.
“You got a girl-friend?” She glanced at him in an innocent way.
Gary concentrated on the road. Eventually, “Plenty,” he announced to the girls.
“I bet,” she admired. There was a silence after that. Karin sensed that she’d made an impact, that he was thinking about her.
In South London, Gary turned off the main road and into a narrow side street of low poor houses and into a warehouse at the end of the cul-de-sac. “It’s far as I go.” He said bluntly, and jumped down from the lorry, disappearing into the cavernous dark.
“Where is this?” Maria asked, sitting still in the seat.
“Dunno. Looks like the backside of London, if you ask me. He’ll take us on to his friend in Islington.”
“Do you think?”
“Come on, get down.” She pushed Maria towards the door, and they climbed out stiffly in their tight new clothes. Karin straightened her blouse and brushed the denim of her jeans downwards to stop it cutting her underneath. “He’ll take us on to his friends. He’s got an eye for us. I could see him, all swivelling under his eyelid.” She chuckled proudly in her own way. “You’re looking not too bad as well,” she added patronizingly.
One thing that Maria had learnt was that bubbling, inviting and eager though Karin was, she herself was nothing short of stunning, one good step on from Karin in turning men’s eyes. She said nothing and left Karin to continue. “Cor his cigarette was a bit of a pong, wasn’t it. Did you notice it? I took a puff. It was like breathing in hot curry or something. I expect it was a high tar.” She pondered with an assured knowingness. They stood beside the lorry, chattering till Gary returned.
“You’d better get on you’s ways, girls. It’ll get dark soon.”
“Aren’t we coming on with you?”
“I’ve gotta get back. Get this unloaded,” he patted the lorry. He moved to the back of the lorry. Karin followed him.
“I thought we were coming to your friend – the one in Islington, with you?”
“I’m on me way back a Portsmouth. Haff an ’our take, t’unload ‘er. A cuppa tea. Then, off.”
“But we thought we could sleep on his floor, or something. We’ve got nowhere to stay tonight. Where do we go?” As her sudden helplessness grew, his face began to darken with anger.
“I dunno. Go an’ ask the boss, if y’ want.” Gary waved towards the inside of the warehouse.
“Thanks.” She said sarcastically. “Give our love to mummy,” and she flounced off towards the dark interior. “Come on,” she said sharply to Maria. “He don’t know anything about London.” It was the cruellest insult she could think of at the moment. They minced down the aisle between the mountainous cardboard cartons. The office was a wooden cubicle at the back of the warehouse. Karin went straight up to the open door with a brisk defiant step.
“Are you his boss, “Karin snapped as if she was about to make a complaint.
The man was a little older than Gary, and also a bit seedy. He wore a grey suit in a gesture towards the image of a manager. The double-breasted jacket was crimpled and hung open beside his knees as he sat forwards at a large low shelf that functioned as a desk. He didn’t look up. “You came up with Gary?” he continued to mark a sheet of paper with a pencil stuck in his left hand.
“Yes.” Karin paused. “Now he’s dropped us.”
“Up to you, love. We carry goods.” He sighed and sat back wearily in his chair. “You want a room for the night?” It was half a question, half a statement. He looked at them. When he did look he was clearly surprised. His eyebrows raised fractionally, and he caught his breath slightly through his open mouth. His teeth were rather grey. You’re a young couple of ladies,” he explained as if they were about ten years old. The man stretched back in his chair as if satisfied with a fine catch. Karin turned to Maria, too angry with humiliation to continue.
“Well, Mister.” Maria said flatly and quietly, “You want to help us? We haven’t got much money. Have you got a room here?”
“No money?” He looked Maria up and down slowly; and then his mouth stretched into a tight grin, thick and greasy and suggestive. “Not much money. Plenty of something else. He let out a long gulp of air which seemed to have built up in his lungs. “Well! It is a very long time since a couple of stunners like you wanted to stay with me. I may have cause to be grateful to Gary, for a change.”
Karin and Maria both stared at the man, hypnotised by a frightened amazement. They were like rabbits caught in headlights. At that moment the warehouse filled with the sound of a fork-lift truck as Gary began to unload the heavier boxes. They both turned to look at him as a relieving distraction.
The man stood up, “Come along.” He was very big, tall and wide-framed and well covered with flesh. “My name’s Ben,” he said loudly over the din and held out his hand to Maria. She shook it compliantly. The moment of distraction when they could have run, seemed to have closed. And they were drawn into his domineering presence again. Karin meekly shook his hand next.
“I’m Karin. And she’s Maria,” The man moved through the door of his tiny cubicle and stood between them. “Isn’t Gary coming too?” Karin asked anxiously as if she wanted him as a guardian angel, now, “Will we be alright?”
“Course you will, my dears.” His attempt at overbearing paternalism only deepened their sense of the sinister. “Come along.” He took them out and to one of the mean houses next to the warehouse, through its unkempt garden of nettles and bushes. He took them in through a filthy kitchen and up to a first-floor bedroom. It was bleak and grubby. A couple of beds filled the room. “Drivers sometimes sleep over. But it’ll do you, won’t it? A couple of girls with no money,” and he laughed. Reaching inside his jacket he pulled out a wallet, took a ten-pound note for each of the girls. And handed the notes to them. Neither Karin nor Maria moved and he dropped the notes at the end of one of the beds. He laughed again. “I’ll be back in a moment. With a bottle,” and he raised his eyebrows in enquiry. He moved out of the room and down the stairs to his grubby kitchen,
Karin fingered the notes. She looked at Maria, who looked back. Neither of the girls had words for it. Indecision, fear, disgust, a sense of their most excited hopes crashing into this mangy reality. They spoke to each other through their dismayed looks. The man quickly returned, bounding up the stairs. The sound of the fork-lift had ended. They heard the sound of Gary shutting the rear of the lorry. In a moment he started the engine, manoeuvred the vast thing and it roared gently down the little street. It seemed like the last hope of rescue was abandoning them. It turned into the main road with a burst of its diesel engine and was gone.
“Our case,” Maria turned to Karin with quiet alarm.
“Oh. Our cases.” Karin’s contrasting shriek turned into a sort of accusation as she faced Ben.
“OK, okay, girls. He took ’em out of the cab. They’re behind the door, all locked up. Safe.” Ben’s soothing reassurance took the wind out of their alarm. But it set them back into the enclosing prison that Ben was constructing around them. “They’ll be good and safe for tonight. So will you my dears. Call me Ben….”
“Call me Ben,” he said again, arranging three glasses on the floor in a bare corner. “It’s some bubbly,” he announced, and the cork flew off with a bang. Karin jumped but Maria was still transfixed in immobility with the confusion inside her. “Let’s get comfortable.” He folded his long legs up as he descended onto one of the low beds. “You,” he said, “come and sit here.” He padded the bed next to him. Maria sat compliant and stiff beside him. His arm went around her shoulder. It was not unfriendly. It was gentle, like a slowly coiling snake, as his fingers searched over the curve of her shoulder, her arm and neck, the softness of her breast. He commanded Karin to bring the glasses and she held them as he poured the fizzy wine with his other hand. Karin stood like a waitress beside them as they sat on the bed and he drank deeply from his glass. “Drink up, girls. This is my big night. I’m a happy man tonight. Come round here.” He gestured to Karin to sit on the other side of the bed. Maria looked at Karin as she sat down, and she looked back. They both confirmed each other’s helplessness, Maria set herself to endure what was to come. London would still be waiting for them tomorrow.
In the morning Maria was watching the growing light beyond the window. All night she had kept track as the clouds began to split up, the chill glare of the moonlight for a few moments at a time flooded the wall beyond the other bed. The temperature had fallen steadily but she did not notice the cold. She lay on her side, at her back the grunting form of his body taking up two-thirds of the little bed. Karin seemed fast asleep on the other one. Maria felt dirty. It didn’t seem likely she could get a bath. Anyway, she felt dirty inside too, right through her. Why did it have to be her she pondered grimly. She had known he would choose her. She thought of her mother’s condemnation. Her mother loved her and has always protected her. Karin was different. Now it was getting a bit lighter she couldn’t let her thoughts go on and on around her misery. She carefully slid out from under the bed clothes, woke Karin gently without too much noise. She slid on her jeans carefully. Her new panties and bra were no use anymore. Ken had thought it fun to slice the strings as he had undressed her with his pocketknife. She kept the blouse outside the jeans hoping that way it wouldn’t show the outline of her breasts so clearly.
Ken was stirring and grunted, “Help yourselves to breakfast,” he said turning to the pillows. “I’ll be with you in ten minutes. We’ll have a great day today, girls.” His eyes hadn’t opened and he slid into the regular breathing of sleep again. They crept from the room down the stairs, opened the front door, put on their shoes and tripped as quickly as their high heels would allow, down the road and out of sight of the house. Around the corner in the main road, they stopped and looked at each other. Maria said gravely. “We can’t get our cases now, can we?”
“No.”
“Perhaps, we could sneak back when he’s opened his warehouse.”
“No, it’s Saturday. Remember. We’d have to wait till Monday.”
“But, perhaps he’ll go in there today. We could keep an eye on him.”
“Perhaps.” Karin was looking into the distance. They were both cold. Her watch showed 7.15 in the morning. The clouds were racing as if there was a storm in the upper atmosphere. “It’s a bit risky.” She put her hand out to show Maria something, “Look.”
Maria starred, “What you take that for?” she said stupidly in amazement. It was Ken’s wallet, Karin had slid it from his jacket on the floor, when he had been otherwise occupied with Maria. “What’s in it?” Maria felt a vengeful rise in her spirits. The girls looked eagerly at a wadge of notes.
“Let’s go and get a cup of tea.” Karin looked around her. There seemed to be the beginnings of a row of shops in the distance.
Over cups of tea and some plates of toast, they cautiously disembowelled the contents of Ken’s wallet. The waitress in the tired-looking café looked suspicious but didn’t say anything. “There’s a credit card here.”
Maria looked. “But it says ‘Mr’. That’s no good for us.”
“Course it is. I can say I’m the wife. See his signature, doesn’t say ‘Ken’. Just K something. ‘K’ – that’s for Karin, too.” She laughed.
Maria was sitting with her arms folded. She remembered she had no bra. She hoped she could hide the outline of her nipples showing through the cotton blouse. The man at the next table across the aisle just kept looking at her chest. “I want to go and get some proper clothes. I’m cold. I need a new whats-it.”
Karin laughed, “I’ve got a couple of good whats-its.” She had also become aware of the man at the other table. She sucked in her breath and straightened her back as if proud of what she too had in front. “You need something as well, Maria, that you can show off with.” She leant across the table confidentially, “That man over there, he’s got an eye for me.” Maria glanced at him. He seemed to be staring straight at her own chest. She felt embarrassed. She looked down at the table and shrugged her shoulders. Karin said, “He’s got a filthy mind that one.”
“Let’s get out of here. I feel all dirty. I haven’t even done my hair.” Her rich wavy dark hair was tangled in all directions as it had come off the pillow next to him.
“Yeah, you don’t look too good.” Karin stood up. As they left the table, Karin turned to the man. “You want to keep control of your eyeballs, mate.” And she swept grandly to the door and left. “Where do we find a taxi in these parts?” she said demandingly as she passed the woman at the till.
The woman in her black linen uniform stopped counting the change. Her clothes were baggy on her thin old body and her cheeks were pale and drawn tight on the bone. “Dunno,” and she returned to counting the notes, hardly looking at Karin. Then the old cashier said, “E’s got a taxi,” she nodded weakly across toward the man Karin had just abused.
Karin darted a look in that direction. At first, she seemed uncertain. Maria tugged her elbow to get her out of the café as quickly as possible, “Come on.”. The waitress had turned away from the girls and went to sit by the counter. She seemed tired so early in the day.
Having raided Selfridges they stood, in the midst of the milling Saturday crowd with two new pigskin travelling cases. The shop had been the one that the girls had heard of as the acme of London sophistication. It hadn’t disappointed them. Ken’s credit card had taken a beating. Maria’s strong slender writing had practised a passable simulation of the signature; while Karin’s soft paw had given up and she had turned away aloof from these technical accomplishments.
They had found miraculously a cruising taxi and lugged their cases inside, “Where to, ladies?” the cabby said brightly.
Karin as usual took the lead. “We want the best hotel. What’s the best hotel called. He looked around through his glass screen at the two girls. Karin in luminous yellow jeans with assorted zips in pointless places, a strong studded belt with a padlock device for a buckle; her frantic red blouse of some kind of man-made silk was smothered with bright blue and green rocket motifs. Her pale hair had been creamed up into a spikey halo. Maria on the other hand found a shapeless long dress in a drear colour. Her hair had been cut nondescript short and curled out slightly at the ends in a style that was fashionable but not loud. Her attempts at modesty had not quite come off. She looked almost like a voluptuous nun. The cabby stared at Karin’s cheap appearance, “What you looking at, fellow? Eh?” She said aggressively. He said nothing but turned back to his wheel and waited. “What’s it called?! And she nudged Maria.
“It’s called the Hilton, I think. Like in America, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, take us to the Hilton.” Karin’s grand manner looked down on him like a failed music hall turn.
When they had been shown into the large room overlooking the park by the unimpressed porter, Maria sat on one of the twin beds. She slowly began to cry in silence. Karin stood at the window, and said, “There’s a lot of creeps in London, aren’t there.” Maria lay back on the bed and curled on her side and sobbed. Karin came and sat beside her, put an arm across the heaving shoulder, “What do we do now?” Both girls were sunk in a momentary despair, bur Maria began to relax. “Maria, do you want to go back?” Maria shook her head. She sat up and wiped her eyes with her hands; the expensive make-up smudged. “Is it the man last night? Karin asked. Maria nodded. Karin stood up. Her face tightened up into her hard look again, “I wasn’t going to let the bastard get his dirty fingers on my legs.” She said as if she had been convinced she had been in command the night before. “You should have done the same,” she snapped, and heaved her case onto Maria’s bed next to her. She rummaged through the assorted contents and retrieved the lipstick and powder compact. She went to the dressing table, dabbed st her lips and face, “War paint,” she said confidentially and seriously. “We’ve got to do something!”
Their question was what?
“We’ll keep on with what we planned, then?” Karin proposed.
“Okay. Let’s go now.”
“But let’s get dressed up.” Their shared belief that life in London was all about wearing the best clothes at the right time had been developed from months of joint study of teenage magazines.
When Maria had left the closed world of the fairground, she expected the outside world to treat her in the familiar way as a privileged but deprived, beautiful little girl. That the outside world proved to exploit her and ravage her beauty was a shock that she had not expected and did not know how to deal with. Not so for her companion. Karin, who was not so pretty, but more forceful in her personality. She took to the world with the gusto of a hungry man. If she was to be exploited, she was going to make it mutual. She just knew that she had never let her mother get away with anything Karin decided was unjust.
Nor would the man Ken, get away with it either, she decided. While they sat in the hotel lounge drinking a gin-and-tonic each, Karin looked again at the wallet she had stolen, this time for his address. There was no address in it, but she found a card with a phone number written on it, and the name Ben Wallis. “Must be him,” she announced confidently. Maria nodded with an indifference she felt. She was concentrating on her abused body, as the reality of her ordeal continued to emerge as an enormous obtruding thought like a vast boulder blocking up a river. “I know what we are going to do,” she announced with a sense of liveliness, which failed to enliven Maria.. “Go and ask that barman if he can give us a pen and some paper.” Maria tiredly did so, only to be refused and told to go to their room as there would be a pen and paper there for the use of guests. Karen had heard the exchange and when Maria returned to sit down, she said to Maria, “Let’s get it from the room. But she did not move, so Maria, carrying the vastness of her violation slouched to the lift to fetch what Karin was asking for.
When she returned, Karin who had been musing thoughtfully, took the pen and began to write on the paper. Maria asked quietly, “What you going to write?”
“I’m writing him a letter.” Maria did not need to ask who, but waited till Karin finished what turned out to be a laborious task. Maria waited silently and eventually Karin showed the paper to her. Here is what Karin had written:
Dear wife of BenWallis, this is from two girls, Karin Grove and Maria Hedger. Ben forced us to have sex with him in his flat next his waerhouse. It was rape. He raped us. I tell the date it was 16teenth Novembre. He was a bastard, because we could not stop him. You got to make him pay for what he dun to us. Karin and Maria
Dear BenWallis. This is from those girls who you forced us to have sex with you in the flat next the waerhouse. We sure you know how to sell stuff from your wearhouse on the black, don’t you. Were sure. So you better do it, and we want 100 pouds each week. Get it. 100 nice pounds for us. We are expensiv, see. If you don’t do it, we will tell you wife. Right. See the other letter in here. Shell give you hell. Karin and Maria
Maria looked at the two letters, noting how Karin was included in Ken’s attack. She handed it back. “We don’t know where to send it.”
“We’ll find out. Here’s this phone number, see.” she waved the bit of paper from the wallet. “Go and do this for us, Maria. Ring them up and say we found a wallet in the street. We found the phone number and it was Ken Wallis. Say we’ll go round to them and give the wallet back.” She flicked her hair back from her face and looked confident. “Say we’d like a bit of a reward, too, if they could afford it. Makes it sound like its all true. ”
“But he’ll see the money’s all gone. And his card.”
“Don’t be silly. We won’t go and give it back. We just want the address. You have to ask for the address for us to go and give it back.” Maria nodded. “Go on then. There’s a phone somewhere. You can ask the bloke over there, where it is. Him at the bar.” Maria obediently went.
When she returned, Karin looked at her expectantly, “Well, what she say?”
Maria looked shaken. “It wasn’t her. I think it was him.”
“Oh well, it doesn’t matter, if you got the address. Did you get it?” Maria handed over the paper, showing the address, and the pen as well to Karin. “Come on, let’s go out and get some proper paper and an envelope and a stamp to post it.”
So, the girls went off to shop for their blackmailing trick.
Back in the hotel, Maria wrote out the letters. And put them into better English. Karin didn’t object and went out to post the letter. Then they sat in the bar with another gin-and-tonic. And then they had another and began to feel that things were not so bad. “When, d’you think he’ll get the letter? Karin, what will he do?”
“Can’t do anything, can he. Not till we contact him and tell him to pay up.”
“How do we get his money? I mean, we can’t just go to his house. We’re not going back to that warehouse, Karin.”
“Nah,” Karin looked thoughtful, “I dunno. Haven’t got that worked out.” She looked intently at Maria. “What do you think? Tell him to come here? The bar? Bring the money to the bar. He can’t cause trouble here, can he.”
Maria didn’t know; she didn’t want to think about the man. She knew she was somehow linked to him, in her soul because of what he did. But she didn’t want such a creep to be there sealed into her most private place. She didn’t reply to Karin. “You can tell, Karin. He makes me sick.” She shifted in her seat. She could see herself in a mirror attached to the wall opposite, her black hair, her dark eyes wide and broad, her voluptuous mouth. She knew she looked pretty, but she could only think of how he must have seen her. She moved so she was not looking at herself in that mirror.
“That’s not much help,” she said protesting, but she did not pursue it. “I will ring him in two days. I think the letter will have got there, then.” She looked reflective as if already planning what she’d say to the creep.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Maria said with some concern.
“Why?”
“Karin, it’s too expensive.” She kept turning away from the mirror. “He’s going to cancel the card. Then we won’t be able to pay the bill. We’ve got to get as much money out of it as we can. Let’s go and find one of those cashpoints.”
“OK. Good idea. I wonder how much we can get out of it?”
“We’ll find out,” And they giggled like two girls much younger than their age, up to mischief. Karin turned to the mirror realising Maria had been avoiding it. Karin’s hair was blonde, long and straight to below her shoulders. It was her best feature. Her face was narrow, and her skin showed a few pock marks where her unfortunate adolescent acne had flourished. She pushed out her handsome and attractive bosom as she looked. “I look good in that mirror,” she said to Maria. “There’s one of those cash machines out near the entrance. Let’s go and see what we can get.” To their surprised dismay, the card had already been cancelled. More to their dismay was their discovery they needed a pin number.
“So, we got nothing to pay our bill with.” Maria said hopelessly.
Karin looked anxious too for a moment. She looked occupied in thought for a minute or two, while Maria waited for her to solve the problem. Then she told Maria what they’d do. Maria nodded and added a few things to which Karin nodded. They went to the restaurant and in the mid-afternoon, they ate the biggest meal they could each manage, as if they may not eat ever again – which may be the case. They laughed a bit, mischievously, at the plan they were working out together. The waiter took their room number to add to their account. He watched the back of Maria’s body as the girls walked out. They went quickly to their room and collected just their essentials. Maria had forbidden them to take their nice new cases and the treasures they had just bought. They left the Hilton Hotel quietly and inconspicuously as if they’d be back shortly.
A hundred yards down the street, they both suddenly discharged their tension in guffaws of laughter as they realised they’d done it. They walked on. Maria was feeling bloated; Karin refused to admit it. “Now what?” Maria looked expectantly at Karin, who shrugged her shoulders. They walked on. Maria was concerned that if they did the same again they’d need posh looking bags again to convince the hotel they were the posh types that could afford it. They simply walked for a while through central London, hoping for inspiration. They entered a large railway terminus, St Pancras. It had a bar-restaurant, and they went to sit for tea, which they noticed was expensive. Maria put Ken’s now-useless card on the table to reassure the waitress. Then Karin began to talk about, how they would get out. Karin was looking around and wandered out to the toilet. On the way back she passed a table with a couple of middle-aged ladies – in the girls’ terms, posh ladies. She arrived back with Maria clutching under her sweater, a handbag that had once hung on the back of the chair of a posh lady. She kept it in her lap under the table and began to bring out the cosmetics and lady stuff. Her purse this time was a bit swollen and they were in luck. Several hundred pounds. Karin stood up leaving the purloined possessions (minus the money) on the spare chair, and she went off to the toilet again, explaining to the waitress as she passed that she was troubled with the ‘monthly’. The waitress nodded considerately. Meanwhile, Maria took off her cardigan and placed it on the chair to hide the unwanted stolen goods. Ten minutes later, as the waitress passed, she said she’d go and rescue her friend who had a bit of trouble down below, and left the cardigan on the chair, again to reassure the waitress. She joined Karin and the hundreds of pounds outside the station and around the corner where she was slouching against a wall. Again, they laughed out loud to break the tension.
They scrammed away from the station in case someone came looking. The waitress would remember them. They wouldn’t go back but there are a dozen or so London terminuses, they could work through. They found not far away, a hotel, a cheap one this time. Two days later they argued about who would ring Ken to arrange for him to hand over the money. Maria stubbornly, even frantically, refused to speak to the bastard. Karin knew she would have to, but protested nevertheless – Maria she believed just had to get over it.
It was morning, so she rang the warehouse. “Speak to Ken, please.”
“Yeah,” Ken said.
“This is the girls you raped. Last week.”
“”Wha’. Whatya talking about.”
“We want our money. We told you. We sent a letter. And we’ll send one to you wife. You got it didn’t you?” There was a long silence. “You want your wife to know what you do in your flat?”
“You can tell the wife if y’ wantta. I ain’t got no wife. never had one. Hard luck, luv.”
Karin was taken aback. All middle-aged creeps had wives, didn’t they? “Don’t believe you, mate.”
“Go ahead, kid. Which one are you anyway?”
“That don’t matter, does it.”
“Maybe it does. You the blonde one aren’tya. I can tell. Well listen, here, luv. You tell the one with dark hair, Maria she was called. She was a bit of a’right. Tell, her if she comes round for a bit more of the same, she’ll get the money. Go’ it.”
Karin was silent, bit her lip and thought. “Two hundred.”
Ken, knowing he could send them away with whatever he decided to give, said. “OK. But she’d better be good – okay?” There was silence at both ends of the phone for a minute. “And I don’t want you. I want the other one. Right.”
Karin put the phone down. She didn’t leave the phone box immediately. She had to consider how to put it to Maria. That wouldn’t be easy. It could be impossible; the way Maria is. When she came out Maria was standing looking at her enquiringly. “He says we’ve got to go to his warehouse.”
“No,” she looked pale. “I can’t go. You go. You’ve only got to pick up the money.” But she knew Karin couldn’t go alone. She knew she should support her friend. She knew she should go too, but she couldn’t face the filthy creep again. But somehow, she knew she had to. As Karin kept telling her she had to get over it.
When a little later, they got there, Karin sent the taxi driver away. Maria was trembling, “You should’ve told him to wait.” And she added, imploringly, “It’s dangerous here. With him.”
Karin said nothing. She held Maria’s hand, gripping it tight. And they advanced into the warehouse. Maria hanging back, and not looking where they went. Karin advanced down the aisle to the little office. Ben was at his desk but noticed the movement and looked up. He looked surprised, “Ha, you here, girls.”
Karin clenched Maria’s hand tightly. “Start with the money. Give us two hundred.”
“Nah, luv.” He was looking at Maria’s terrified face, hanging back behind Karin. “She OK?”
“She’s OK,” said Karin, and kept tight hold of Maria’s hand in case she started to run.
“Right,” he said. Ken seemed as if he couldn’t believe his luck. I’ll go and shut the doors. You,” said to Karin, “take her up to the room.” Maria stared at Karin. She looked completely in shock. She looked like a zombie.
She let Karin lead her out and in through the house to the room. “Don’t leave me this time,” she whispered.
“Alright. Don’t forget. It will soon be over.”
When Ken arrived in the room he told Karin to go down and sit in the office in case anyone came. Karin obediently left. Maria was at the mercy of Ken again. She was less compliant this time, but Ken overpowered her. Enjoyed doing so.
Maria laid back defeated, dirtied and extremely dead right through to her bones. She had no life to make her move. In fact, Ken had to drag her out of the room , down the stairs and in through the side door. He threw her at Karin. Maria stared, but Karin looked away. Ashamed. Karin took over, she said, in her conniving way, “Give me hand with her. You’ve had what you want.” So they each took an arm and led Maria onto the street. Halfway down the street, Karin told Ben, he could go back. As soon as he turned back she whispered to Maria, “We’ve got to run, and as she hauled Maria forward and out of earshot, she said, “I’ve got his cash from his office.” And after they’d got to the end of the road, she said “We’ve done well. Thanks Maria.” Maria stumbled on, and they found an alleyway to hide in till Ben had come racing past and after some time he wandered back resigned to having lost all the cash box.
Maria said nothing till they got back to the hotel. As she got out of the taxi, she had recovered her will to survive and moved of her own accord. There was little conversation between the girls that evening. After they went to sleep in their room, Maria opened her eyes, listened for Karin’s heavy breathing and while she slept, took all the money and silently left. Maria felt like the filthiest piece of womanhood that had ever existed.
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