This Stolen Life

by This Stolen Life (retail) (epub)

  ‘I guess it was.’

  ‘We need to get your mind off work for a little while.’

  He laughed, he hoped convincingly. Bex slipped her arm through his. He tensed and wondered how he could shake her off without being rude. He walked with his elbow held stiffly out from his body. They neared the pub and Bex moved closer. ‘We’re here,’ she said, redundantly.

  Sahan hesitated.

  ‘You coming in?’ said Bex. ‘Or have you come up with a better idea?’ She leaned closer. He could smell the wine on her breath and it repulsed him. Her eyes were fixed on his face. If he didn’t do something she would try to kiss him. The very thought made him flinch.

  He gently removed her arm from his. ‘I’m sorry, Bex,’ he said. ‘I don’t think this is such a good idea.’ He patted her hand before letting it go. ‘I’m… really sorry.’

  Bex’s smiled dropped. ‘I see,’ she said. She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I see.’ There was the slightest tremor in her voice. He felt like an ogre.

  ‘Bex, I’m really sorry. It’s just my head isn’t in the right place for—’

  ‘I’ll let the others know you’ve gone back. Hope you get your essay done.’ She stalked off before he could say anything else. She disappeared into the pub, without pausing or looking back.

  Sahan stared after her, aware that he’d just hurt a girl who didn’t deserve it. But it was better than stringing her along. It was the right thing to do. He turned and started walking back. After a few minutes, he broke into a run, because he didn’t want all that time to think. Bloody Tamsin. Bloody, bloody Tamsin. What had she done to him?

  His first week at uni had been a scary, exhilarating experience. It was the first time he’d been away from home and he was unleashed into a strange country. Back home, he had barely a moment where someone wasn’t with him. Under the guise of keeping him safe, his father kept him tightly reined in. His parents had warned him, repeatedly, not to lose sight of his goal. Don’t get distracted, son. Remember to study. But studying was the last thing on his mind, that first week. The fearsome responsibility of having to do everything for himself was matched only by the elation of being able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

  University life in his imagination had been a mix of imagery gleaned from American TV shows. He now knew that Britain was a very different place to TV America. It was less clean, less wholesome. Still, a whole lot of fun. The first person he met was Nate, who was also the first black person he had ever spoken to. A few hours in the bar later, they had become firm friends.

  If his friends from home could see him now, they’d see a guy who’d embraced freedom; who was standing in a bar with no set time to go home, drinking a beer he didn’t have to hide, hanging out with his black best friend. They wouldn’t recognize him. His father would probably have a coronary in horror.

  Well, his father wasn’t here now. He could do whatever he liked. He was all set to have the best three years of his life.

  And then Tamsin happened. She walked into the bar and every male head turned to watch her progress. She was beautiful, with thick brown curls that swung to the movement of her hips. Even in the standard student outfit of jeans and skinny t-shirt, she was movie star elegant. Sahan, who had been brought up to be courteous and always button his shirts right to the very top, never thought for a moment that a guy like him would have a chance with someone like her. Which was why, when she came over to talk to them, he assumed it was Nate she was interested in.

  She was even more flawless up close and for the first time in his life, Sahan was lost for words. Small talk, which normally came easily to him, was a struggle. Yet, Tamsin didn’t seem to notice. She smiled at him, touched his arm, complemented him on his long eyelashes. When she left, she passed him a piece of paper with her mobile number on it.

  Sahan and Nate watched her leave.

  ‘Wow,’ said Nate. ‘I think you’ve pulled.’

  Sahan looked at the piece of paper in his hand and swallowed hard. Blood that had deserted his brain for more interesting destinations slowly returned. ‘She was being nice,’ he said. But he tucked the paper carefully into his jeans pocket.

  He’d tried to call her, several times, but it was too much for him. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that his parents would be horrified at the thought of him being with a woman like that. It broke all the rules he’d been brought up with. The girls he knew would never approach a guy like that, let alone give him their phone number. Which was why, when he saw her in the student union shop a few days later, he tried to stammer an apology.

  Tamsin laughed. ‘You’re so sweet,’ she said. ‘Tell you what, I’m not busy right now. How about you buy me a coffee?’

  So they sat in the cafe, perched on the tall stools, elbows leaning against the round table in between them, and chatted. Every so often, their knees would touch and it was like a bolt of lightning to his stomach. After a few minutes, Sahan recovered his ability to speak. Tamsin was in the final year, a few years older than he was. She seemed to be bright and charming. Finally, she slid off her stool.

  ‘Since you’re quite shy,’ she said, smiling, ‘I’ll do the asking. Do you fancy taking me out for dinner on Friday night?’

  ‘Uh… yeah. I’m mean. Yes. That would be… That’s great. Yes.’

  Her smile widened. ‘You’re so cute. Come pick me up at seven.’ She wrote her address and room number on the back of the receipt and pressed it into his hand. ‘Don’t lose that. Okay?’ Her hand lingered in his.

  ‘No. Of course.’

  ‘Great. I’ll see you on Friday night.’ She left him staring at his hand and wondering if he could get away with never washing it again.

  On the Friday, he walked down the corridor of her halls of residence at five to seven. After several hours on TripAdvisor, he and Nate had chosen a restaurant. He had even ironed his shirt. Nate, who had found out quite how sheltered Sahan’s life had been so far, had given him a lecture on safe sex and made him take a condom. Sahan had said he didn’t believe in sex before marriage. Nate had laughed and said it should be an interesting evening then.

  It turned out that dinner involved a lot of wine. Sahan wasn’t used to wine. It tasted heavy compared to beer and it was making him feel fuzzy, which wasn’t unpleasant. Tamsin, two years older than him, was telling him about what she was going to do when she graduated. Sahan watched her red, red lips moving. She had done most of the talking that evening. He had tried very hard to pay attention and tried to make sure that his eyes focussed on her face whenever he was looking at her.

  Tamsin reached across, her arm brushing his, and picked up the wine bottle. There wasn’t much left.

  ‘Oh.’ She tipped the last of the wine into her glass. ‘Let’s order another.’ Before he could answer, she had raised her arm to get the waiter’s attention.

  He didn’t mind. Not really. But she could have asked him. He assumed he was paying for this meal, and even if he wasn’t, surely it was good manners to check if he wanted more wine. Tamsin ordered another bottle. Sahan frowned. He was fairly new to drinking alcohol and his head felt muzzy. As the waiter turned to leave, he said, ‘I’d like a glass of tap water as well, please.’

  ‘You okay?’ said Tamsin. She leaned closer. He could see down her dress now. Her chest gleamed in the restaurant lights, as though she had swept her breasts with glitter. Inadvertently, he thought of his father and his warnings against loose women. He forced his gaze back up to her face.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just needed a glass of water. Thirsty… you know,’ he said.

  She laughed. ‘Me too, which is why I ordered more wine.’ She smiled at him. The skin around her mouth wrinkled in a strange way. He realised that the skin he had taken to be flawless was actually just a coating of make-up. Of course it was. Silly of him to not notice before. His father’s voice rang out in his head. ‘Be sensible. Foreign women are all fake glamour and no substance. They will use you and discard you. Dangerous creatures.
’ He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

  Tamsin was looking at him with her head to one side. ‘Sure you’re okay?’ Her fingers made contact with his hand, warm but no longer thrilling.

  Damn his father and his moralizing. He was ruining everything. The rush of emotion that he had started the evening with had fizzled out. This was not going as he had hoped. Still, she had done nothing wrong. He needed some time to think. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. What had she been saying? ‘Um… you’ve got a job interview soon…’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘It’s actually a second interview. There’s a whole day of assessments.’ Her hand moved away from his as she gestured. ‘You know, psychometric tests and all that.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve not done that sort of thing…’

  She explained. Partway through her explanation, the wine arrived and she poured herself a glass. He topped up his own. He wasn’t sure he wanted any more. He was already feeling woozy. More wine wasn’t a great idea, but he needed to have something to do. So he drank it anyway.

  It wasn’t late, but Sahan was unsteady on his feet from the wine. Tamsin, who’d had far more wine than he had, was steadier than he was, but not by much. They wove their way down the corridor of her hall of residence. It was quiet, everyone else must still be out. Tamsin tucked her arm through his, pressing her body close so that he could feel the squash of her breast through her coat. He knew he should be enjoying that, but couldn’t muster any enthusiasm.

  Tamsin lost her glamour faster than he’d thought possible. The meal, the glitter… that had started it, but the final stroke had come when they’d stumbled out of the restaurant and she’d leaned against a pillar and pulled out a cigarette. She had offered him one, showing a generosity that she hadn’t shown with the wine. He had refused, but then had to put up with her second-hand smoke as they walked back to the halls of residence. The smell clung to them now, making his already queasy stomach turn all the more.

  He had thought he knew about the world. Nate had tried to tell him that he was too naive, but he had been so sure that watching TV had prepared him. Maybe Nate had been right. Or worse… maybe his father had been. That thought sobered him up.

  ‘Here we are,’ she trilled. He tried to release himself from her, but she managed to open the door whilst still holding his arm.

  ‘I… should go,’ he said, when she dragged him in. ‘Thank you very much for a lov—’

  Her mouth pressed against his. He tried to protest, but opening his mouth only let her tongue in. She tasted of ash and smoke and tannin. He stood, paralysed by panic for a second, not sure how to push her away. When he moved, his hands were suddenly full of warm flesh and for a moment, he could think of nothing other than the sensation of a nipple hardening against his palm and the slide of her tongue against his.

  She pushed, making his back slam against the closed door. She stopped kissing him for a moment. ‘You,’ she said, her voice low, ‘are so damned cute. I could eat you.’

  He didn’t want to be eaten by her. He didn’t want her cigarette taste in his mouth. She kissed him again. This time, he managed to move.

  ‘T… Tams—’

  She pulled his shirt out and thrust her hand under it. He yelped at the cold touch.

  ‘Stop it.’ He pulled her hand away. ‘Please.’

  ‘Aww,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard…’ she nipped at his earlobe, making him flinch. ‘That the quiet ones are the best.’ Her hands scrabbled at his waist. She was undoing the buttons on his jeans. His insides lurched in panic. He batted her hands away, but she was too quick. Her cold fingers reached inside his underwear.

  ‘No.’

  ‘What’s the matter, little man?’ She looked down. ‘Let’s see what we have…’

  ‘I don’t—’ He grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her hand away. Years of being taught to be polite made him try to explain. ‘I don’t even know you. I don’t want to sleep with y—’

  She pressed towards him and tried to kiss him again. Thoughts of explaining vanished in another rush of panic. Nothing about this was right. It went against everything he believed in, not just about romance, but about basic respect.

  Her free hand groped into his underwear again and gripped his penis, making him yelp.

  ‘Aw,’ said Tamsin, squeezing. ‘So soft? Don’t you like girls?’ Her other hand groped round to his bottom. He twisted and wriggled out her grasp.

  ‘Leave me alone.’

  She released him, pinching him as she drew her hand away. ‘Oh fine.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You shouldn’t be leading girls along if you really like boys.’

  He clawed at the door. It took him two attempts to get it open. He glanced over his shoulder and Tamsin was watching him, her lower lip pouting. ‘Aww,’ she said again. ‘There’s no need to get upset over such a tiny thing.’ And then she began to laugh.

  Her laughter chased him as he stumbled down the hall. He found the stairs and practically fell down them. He made it out of the building before all the food and the wine rose up from his stomach and splashed onto his shoes.

  Now, every time anyone touched him or made him think of sex, he experienced that same wave of shame and terror and the urgent need to be sick. She had ruined his life.

  When he finally told Nate and Cara the following day, Cara had wanted him to report Tamsin for assault, but Nate had pointed out that no one would take him seriously if he did. He understood that. If someone had told him that a guy like him would have had trouble fending off a slim, pretty girl like Tamsin, he would have laughed too. Cara and Nate had advised him to put it behind him and carry on, but Sahan couldn't. The shame and fear were such a potent mixture. He dreaded running into Tamsin, so he found excuses not to go out, until eventually people stopped inviting him.

  * * *

  Sahan got back to the house and slammed the door behind him. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t let Tamsin haunt him forever. This had to stop.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘What are you doing today?’ Madam said.

  Soma looked round from where she was watching the toaster. ‘Madam?’ It was Saturday. She had intended to stay in her room, watching television, like she always did on her day off.

  ‘Are you planning to go into town?’

  ‘No Madam. I thought I would watch some TV.’

  A small frown appeared on Madam’s forehead. ‘You should go out, practise your English a bit. I know you don’t need it, living with us, but you may as well learn something new.’

  She was learning a new skill. Her ability to read English was improving. She could hear the words in her head when she read now and she could understand most of what people were saying on TV. Sahan had told her how to get English subtitles up on her screen, which somehow helped her understand things better. Watching TV was learning a new skill, but Madam didn’t realise it. Or perhaps she wanted Soma out of the house.

  ‘Okay Madam,’ she said. She could walk to the shops at the far end of the avenue. She had been that way with Louie before, but she always turned back before the crossroads with the shop on the corner and returned back to the house. Maybe she should be braver. Besides, if Madam thought something was odd, she might start asking questions. That would be bad.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, she left the house, wrapped up against the cold, a hat pulled low over her hair, which was growing back nicely. Out of habit, she went out through the wicket door from the garage. She had never used the front door, so she had all but forgotten it existed.

  The sun was struggling to show from behind the layer of cloud and the cold clung to her. She pulled the scarf tighter around her neck and set off, going in the opposite direction to the park. The avenue was lined with huge trees. As the weather warmed up, the trees had burst into leaf, so that the wide pavements either side were in dappled shade. What had been dry and bare in the winter was now soft and green.

  During the week, the road was quiet, but today there were many more c
ars on the quiet side street. People too. A few passers-by said good morning. Soma fought back the urge to hunch further down into her coat and forced herself to nod and smile hello.

  Huddling into her coat and not speaking was what Jaya would do. She wasn’t that girl any more. She was Soma. Who could understand some English and cook lasagne. Soma could walk down the street like she belonged there, even without a pram to push.

  A couple walked by, arm in arm. Maybe she should try and say ‘hi’ like the other people did. The couple got nearer. The woman made eye contact and said hello.

  Soma said, ‘Hi.’ It sounded strange and high-pitched and foreign. But the couple didn’t seem to notice. They didn’t pause their walking, but they smiled and said ‘hi’ back.

  Yes!

  * * *

  Yamuna packed a bottle of milk and some pureed food to take to the shops. What else did Louie need? She put the changing bag on the table and checked the contents. She needed more wipes.

  Louie, who had been sitting happily in his high chair a few minutes ago, started to grizzle.

  ‘What’s up little man?’ Yamuna approached him. He had been fed. He couldn’t need a nappy change already, surely?

  Bim came in, reading something on the iPad. He put the tablet on the work surface, filled up the kettle and put it on whilst simultaneously still reading. He didn’t seem to notice either of them.

  Louie was rubbing his eyes now. ‘What’s the matter?’ Yamuna unclipped the straps and picked Louie up out of the chair. He didn’t stop complaining. Yamuna balanced him on her hip and started replacing items into the changing bag. Louie nuzzled his head against her shoulder. Yamuna paused. Was he being affectionate? She should enjoy that. Yes. You were supposed to count the small wins. She should make the most of it. Packing the bag could wait. She turned her back on the table and looked at her son.

  He sneezed. Mucus sprayed onto her face. Yuck.