The Taken

by Casey Kelleher

  Biting her lip angrily, Lena would rather die of pneumonia than turn to her husband for body heat.

  Her only focus was to keep Roza warm.

  Shivering, she wrapped one of the other sacks tightly around Roza; huddling the small girl to her chest before placing the other sack over her own shoulders. She leant back then, her head resting against the panel behind, her legs curled underneath her.

  She needn’t have bothered.

  No sooner had she got settled than the wind picked up; an almighty thunderous wave slapped heavily against the side of the boat, sending a thick shower of icy water cascading down over everyone aboard.

  Shivering at the icy blast descending down the back of her neck, Lena bent over, trying to shield the child. Lena was soaked through now, but mercifully she’d managed to save Roza from being hit by the wave that slopped over the side of the boat.

  Trembling – not just from the cold and the wet but with terror too – Lena’s eyes scanned the faces nearby.

  She could feel the fear all around her now, thick in the air. Even with her vision impaired by the darkness, unable to see the other passengers’ faces, Lena could hear their whimpers. Everyone on board was terrified. They all knew the risks of the journey that they were undertaking.

  Hearing the small boat’s engine fire up as they began to set sail, Lena huddled Roza in tightly to her, rocking her gently in her arms, kissing the child’s forehead, desperate to settle her.

  Still she screamed.

  ‘Shut her up, Lena,’ Ramiz growled.

  ‘She doesn’t seem herself, Ramiz. All she’s done since we left home is cry and sleep.’

  ‘Isn’t that what babies do?’ Ramiz sneered now. His voice unconcerned.

  ‘She just seems off.’ Lena was worried. Roza seemed docile. Flitting between sleeping for hours and then screaming constantly. ‘I think something’s wrong with her. I can’t explain it.’

  ‘Good. Then don’t. I want to get some sleep. Keep her quiet.’

  Lena wondered if perhaps she was just hungry. She knew that she didn’t have much milk to give her daughter, but maybe a little would be enough to satisfy her. Putting Roza to her breast, Lena winced, pain ripping through her as Roza latched on to her nipple. No matter how much it hurt her, she had to try.

  As the boat chugged across the waters, picking up speed as if mimicking the wind, the constant rocking motion jolted Lena’s stomach. Now she knew what the man back on the beach meant when she had overheard him telling someone that the crossing would be ‘choppy’.

  Closing her eyes, Lena listened to the loud creaking noises, fear gripping her. The boat sounded barely seaworthy as it battled against the waves. Lena prayed that they wouldn’t end up with the same fate as thousands of nameless, faceless hopeful travellers that had been lost to the sea before them.

  They’d all heard the stories about the ones that never made it. Lost to the sea; their absence totally unnoticed by the rest of the world.

  It was out of Lena’s hands though – it was all down to fate.

  Roza had quietened now, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling gently as she fell asleep. Lena hugged the child tighter to her, rubbing her back gently.

  She felt something solid.

  Unwrapping the thick blanket that enveloped Roza, along with the brown muslin sack, Lena pulled at Roza’s nappy. Twisting the fabric to the side she found Ramiz’s pistol.

  Lena stared over to where Ramiz lay opposite her, now fast asleep. Of course. That’s why he had been so intent on carrying Roza aboard. Not to keep her dry… he’d used her to conceal his weapon from the men who had searched them.

  Holding the gun in her hand, Lena looked at it with curiosity. All she had to do was hold it up, pull back one finger, and this would all be over.

  Looking over to Ramiz now it was as if she was seeing him for the very first time.

  Slouched on the deck, his head flopping about in time with the boat’s jerky movements, he kept his arms folded across his chest. Even in his slumber he was guarded.

  She wondered if she could do it.

  It would only take a second.

  One click. One single bullet to his thick, ugly skull and the man would be gone from her and Roza’s lives for ever.

  Shielded by darkness, Lena checked that no one could see her as she lifted her arm up just a few inches, concealing the gun as she held it tightly to her chest.

  She held her arm out straight then, trying to control the shaking as her finger caressed the cold metal trigger beneath her fingertip.

  Just one shot. That’s all it would take.

  But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t shoot him here. Not in front of all these people. They might throw her overboard. Take her child from her.

  Lena couldn’t risk it. Not when they were so close to getting to England.

  Exasperated, she tucked the gun down behind her for safekeeping, slumping back down into the cramped space as she embraced her baby.

  Glaring at her husband, she felt nothing but pure contempt. She eyed the thick jagged scar that slithered down the left side of his face where the glass had struck him. The constant reminder of the Bodis’ attack.

  They’d made their mark on him, yes, but one little scar wasn’t good enough. Nowhere near.

  An eye for an eye, that’s what the Kunan stated. Spilt blood to be met with spilt blood. Yet once again, Ramiz had taken a coward’s way out.

  Escaping his fate.

  For now, anyway.

  One day he’d get his dues. After everything he had done to her, Lena would make sure of it.

  As the waves subsided and the harsh jolts of the sea were soon replaced with a rhythmic rocking motion, she let her mind wander back to thoughts of home to pass the time. She did that often. Wondering what Néné, Båbå and Tariq would be doing right now. If they were still looking for her, or if maybe they had given up?

  Her parents and Tariq would have adored Roza. She often imagined a big homecoming meal, where Båbå and Néné would greet her with open arms, hugging her as they cried with relief at her return. How her parents would adore little Roza, showering her with affection. And Tariq, he would be an amazing uncle, bringing Roza playfulness, fun, excitement.

  Something deep down in the pit of her stomach told her that scene would never happen. She doubted she’d ever see any of them again. Still, she could dream.

  Clutching the rucksack with Roza’s belongings inside tightly to her she thought about the contents. Ramiz wasn’t the only one who could hide things. She’d ripped at the bag’s lining, concealing her secrets as best as she could.

  Ramiz would never venture into the bag though. Nappies, baby clothes, blankets.

  Nursing Roza was Lena’s job. For the first time in her life she finally had some security.

  All she had to do was bide her time.

  Hugging the bag tightly to her, Lena closed her eyes as the journey across the Channel became smoother, the boat rocking gently from side to side.

  She wouldn’t fall asleep, she couldn’t. She needed to stay awake for Roza.

  For now, though, she’d just close her eyes and rest.

  13

  Slipping inside the gates to the cemetery, Colin shivered, wrapping his coat tightly around him.

  At least it wasn’t raining now. That was something.

  Getting his torch out, he switched it on, pointing the beam of light towards the headstones as he walked the length of the cemetery, checking each grave meticulously as he passed.

  His colleagues thought he was stupid, he knew, using him to do the night-time patrols just because he was the one that lived the closest, on the Greenwood Estate; the same road as the cemetery.

  After the spate of vandalism that had been happening here lately, gangs of kids breaking in late at night, robbing trinkets and toys from the children’s graves, they’d all agreed that they’d take the patrols in turns. But Colin had ended up doing the bulk of the checks. Not that it bothered him rea
lly.

  The place was so quiet at night. Peaceful. It was just him here. No one here for him to take orders from. That was just the way he liked it.

  He didn’t like people. They were cruel, spiteful. Even his colleagues. Two-faced the lot of them.

  Quick to make jibes about him not wanting to backfill graves after a burial; he knew they called him names behind his back.

  Weirdo. Oddball.

  Not that any of their words could hurt him.

  He was immune to it. He’d heard it all before, and worse, from his own mother. He didn’t care what any of them thought of him. He was here to work. Not to make friends.

  Besides, they were the ones who were stupid. They’d given him a free pass to be here in the dead of night and do as he pleased. Away from his mother, away from the flat.

  For him, tending to the graves in the dead of night was anything but a hardship.

  Colin made his way over to the grave that he’d been thinking about all day long.

  Violet’s.

  He stood there now, looking down at the perfectly displayed purple wreaths decorating the graveside. Reading the cards; his eyes drinking in the words of sorrow.

  They’d all left her though, hadn’t they?

  Cold, alone in the ground.

  Not him though; Colin had kept his word. Spreading his coat out on the ground, he sat down.

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t leave you all alone.’ Whispering, he rubbed his hand across the mound of soil.

  Getting himself comfortable, Colin lay down on the grass next to the grave. Switching his torch off. He knew he didn’t have long.

  Mother was still awake, and she’d be wondering where he was.

  Another excuse for a row.

  But Colin just wanted Violet to know that he was here for her now, for a little while anyway. That she wasn’t on her own. He would mind her.

  Lying in silence with Violet on the ground of the cemetery, there was nowhere else Colin Jeffries would rather be.

  14

  ‘Girl, are you sure you haven’t danced in a club before?’

  Bursting through the doors, Misty’s voice echoed around the empty dressing room. Smiling, she eyed the younger girl suspiciously.

  ‘I don’t know what they have been teaching you in ballet school, but I’m gonna guess that it wasn’t what I just watched you do out there! They were some serious moves!’

  Misty was genuinely impressed.

  Saskia had just taken everyone out there by surprise, herself included.

  The girl had just worked the main floor unlike any newbie Misty had ever seen before. It pained Misty to say it, but she had to give it to the girl.

  Saskia Frost could really dance.

  Earlier this morning, Misty had been ready to bet her month’s wages the girl would bolt.

  She’d seen it a thousand times before. Girls full of bravado suddenly freezing up at the thought of going out on that stage in front of all the punters. You either had it in you to work in a place like this, or you didn’t.

  ‘You were on fire out there. Did you see the look on Joshua’s face?’

  Misty was laughing now.

  ‘I just did what you showed me.’

  Cleansing her face with some make-up wipes, Saskia wiped off the mask of make-up she’d been hiding behind all evening and shrugged modestly back at Misty’s reflection in the mirror.

  She was playing it cool, but inside the adrenaline was still surging through her body.

  She couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. She’d gone out there in front of all those men and danced.

  ‘Girl, you did way more than I showed you.’ Misty beamed.

  The girl was beautiful. Naturally stunning, not like some of the girls that worked here that needed a complete makeover to look half decent before they went on stage. She had just taken the roof off out there. Yet, instead of buzzing about it, she was quiet, subdued.

  ‘Tonight was a major success, you should be proud.’

  Saskia shrugged.

  Proud wasn’t a word she’d use right now. In all honesty, she was just glad that her first night was over.

  If she thought dancing up on the stage was bad, nothing had prepared her for the intimacy of dancing for men privately inside the booths. Saskia had never felt so vulnerable.

  The club, the punters. Misty. Joshua. It had all been so overwhelming, and now she just wanted to get out of here, to go home and get some much needed sleep. The last few weeks were beginning to take their toll. She felt exhausted, as if she’d had all her energy zapped from her.

  Jumping down from the stool, Saskia tied her hair up into a loose bun before pulling her jacket around her.

  ‘You not staying for a drink?’ Misty asked. The rest of the girls were still out on the main floor getting one last dance in before the club closed its doors for the night. ‘The others will be done soon. That’s the best part. We all have a well-earned nightcap at the end of a shift, while I dish out the wages.’

  ‘I won’t, thanks. My head’s banging. It’s been a long couple of days. Thanks for the offer and all that, but I think I just need my bed.’ Bending down, Saskia shoved her clothes into her bag.

  ‘You sure you don’t want to stick around for a bit? It would be good for you to meet the other girls properly. This job can be a bastard if you single yourself out, Saskia. Trust me, friends in this place are a godsend.’

  ‘Next time, maybe.’ Saskia shrugged.

  She’d seen the other girls earlier when they’d all been in here getting ready to go out on the main floor. She hadn’t warmed to any of them and they certainly hadn’t warmed to her. She wasn’t interested in building friendships. All she wanted to do was keep her head down and earn some money.

  ‘They’re good girls once you get to know them,’ Misty said, curtly now, wondering if Saskia was still feeling out of her depth. ‘They may look a bit rough around the edges, but most of them here have hearts of gold.’

  Saskia nodded as if agreeing, but she wasn’t convinced. She’d seen the way the others girls had given her the once-over when she’d walked in the door tonight. They were thinking exactly what she had been thinking: she didn’t fit in here. She wasn’t from their world.

  Seeing that Saskia was intent on leaving, regardless of what she said, Misty counted out a pile of £20 notes, before placing the money down on the dresser in front of Saskia.

  ‘Well, before you do a Houdini on us all, this is for you. There’s six hundred pounds there.’ Misty smiled, watching the shock on Saskia’s face.

  ‘Whoa! That can’t be right?’ Saskia stared at the money, gobsmacked.

  Shaking her head she looked at Misty disbelievingly.

  ‘I haven’t cut you short if that’s what you’re implying? It’s all there… ’ Misty’s tone was sharp, offended that Saskia thought she was trying to rip her off after Misty had spent the day doing nothing but try and help the girl. ‘I’ve taken a hundred out for your floor fee; the rest is yours to do as you please.’

  ‘Oh God, no, I didn’t mean that you cut me short. What I meant was, I’ve only been here a few hours… ?’ Realising that her words had been taken the wrong way, Saskia quickly backtracked. ‘Six hundred pounds seems like too much… ’

  Misty laughed now, relieved.

  ‘Too much? When it comes to money, girl, let me tell you, there ain’t no such thing as too much. Though I’m not going to lie. It’s been a while since a newbie came in here and earned that kind of money on their first night. You’ll be up there with the top earners before long if you keep pulling them moves like you did tonight. Oh, and by the way, Mr Harper asked if you can work tomorrow night too?’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ she asked, shoving the money into the inside pocket of her bag. ‘I thought the club was closed tomorrow night?’ Remembering the animated conversation that had taken place earlier that evening between the other girls as they were all getting changed earlier, Saskia was sure that they’d been saying something abou
t a private party. ‘I overheard some of the girls earlier, they sounded pretty pissed off about it. They were saying how unfair it was that he always picked the same girls. Why would he pick me? I’ve only been here a day.’

  ‘Why do you think?’ Misty said raising her eyes. ‘He’s obviously upping the stakes!’

  ‘What will I have to do?’ Saskia asked, dubiously.

  ‘The same as tonight. Look hot and keep wriggling that little arse of yours.’ Then, serious again, she added, ‘The parties are a little bit more involved than the club nights. It’s mainly private dancing. One on one.’

  ‘What do you mean more involved?’

  ‘Let’s just say the parties are a little bit more hands-on.’ Misty raised her eyes, suggestively. ‘The usual house rules don’t apply, but the money is good. Triple what you earned tonight and tips. You get to keep it all too, and because it’s a private party there’s no floor fee either.’

  Saskia didn’t need to think twice.

  ‘No thanks, I’m not interested.’

  Tonight had been bad enough. Parading around in sexy lingerie – having men leer at her and make suggestive comments as she danced – she wouldn’t be able to handle being groped and manhandled on top of everything else.

  ‘Look, no one’s going to force you to do anything that you don’t want to do. Just because some of the other girls like to make a bit on the side doesn’t mean that you have to. You can just do the same as you did tonight. Just dance.’

  Saskia wasn’t sure. She’d barely got her head around the dancing bit yet; there was no way that she’d be comfortable doing anything more than that. No matter how much the money was.

  ‘I dunno. Maybe it would be better to give my place to one of the other girls… ?’

  Misty shook her head.

  ‘Mr Harper has asked for you specifically!’

  Misty was watching Saskia carefully. Her demeanour changed once more as soon as Misty mentioned Joshua’s name. It was clear to them both that Joshua Harper wasn’t going to make Saskia’s transition into the club easy for her. Misty almost felt sorry for the girl.