by Quig Shelby
Dela went into the lounge, and poured another gin over her fetish whilst Felix had a tepid bath; his ass was still sore but worse was to come.
‘Did you enjoy the party darling?’ Dela asked Felix as he dried himself in the bedroom.
Dela had that tone in her voice which meant there was something else on her mind.
‘Yes,’ he replied.
‘And what did you buy the birthday girl?’
‘A gift card.’
‘How sweet,’ said Dela ‘not stockings and suspenders, or long knitted socks, you pervert?’
‘Of course not Dela,’ replied an indignant Felix.
‘But you wish you had. Then you could fuck her in that chair.’
‘Dela, honestly,’ said Felix almost thinking she was joking - until she bit the end of his nose.
‘Here you try it,’ and she threw a pair of black stockings, with red seams and heels, onto the bed.
Felix knew better than to argue, and put them on before Dela fastened a high suspender belt around his chubby torso. She quickly fastened the eight suspender clips into place.
‘Move bitch,’ she said as she positioned him on the bed.
‘You think it’s fun having every other manimal trying to get inside you, do you?’ she screamed.
She fastened the strap-on peg around her waist. Another little present of her own she’d been saving.
‘Well you try it,’ she said after applying a little lotion to the tip.
Felix let out a yell.
‘Don’t be such a cry baby,’ said Dela ‘this wasn’t even the biggest one in the shop.’
For Felix this was the final act of submission; Dela had become the man.
Chapter Thirty One
Joost looked at Bheki across the table, as Mr Crowley brought them a fried breakfast dripping in lard. It was a bit slippery, but they needed fattening up after last night’s exercise.
Sitting away from them were a couple of ladies who tried to be discreet, but couldn’t help from staring at Joost. He was both annoyed and flattered, but did notice they had rather large hands, and both were wearing chiffon scarves around their necks.
‘This place is a tip,’ said Bheki looking around at the décor.
There were bunches of tattered artificial flowers on the tables, and the chairs were padded in tacky green velour. There was a stained red carpet covering most of the floor, but not in the corners where it gave up.
Joost poured them both a coffee.
‘It’s not the Hilton for sure but,’ he hesitated ‘the location couldn’t be better.’
Bheki looked at him.
‘Joost you can’t be serious.’
‘Well it is halfway between Bishopsfield and London, and Dilwood’s is just on the other side of town.’
‘No way Joost.’
She’d been in establishments a lot seedier than the Mephisto - just, but she didn’t like the way Messieurs Wheatley and Crowley looked her up and down. The place was ghastly, and who on earth was Madam Fang Fong? There were posters of her everywhere, and she looked awful.
‘Alright, but what if we stayed in another Hotel nearby.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Bheki.
She didn’t really want to live out of a suitcase, but then again she did want to live.
‘You’re sure we have to leave London?’ she asked.
‘You know, as well as I do, what they’re like. I wish I’d never got you involved,’ he lamented.
‘Joost darling, as soon as Felix Gale saw me I was involved.’
‘You can’t be the only albino in London,’ said Joost.
‘Of course not, but once they get you in their sights they never give up,’ said Bheki, referring to the muti gangs.
‘Unless they die first,’ and she drew an index finger across her throat.
Bheki well understood the predicament they were in; she’d grown up with death forever one step behind.
Joost was polite enough to ignore his role in bringing Bheki and Felix together; she was still a porn star but no longer his pawn.
The roads were still wet as they drove out of Steeple’s End but the storm had died down - for now.
Joost pulled the zipper all the way around, and flattened the bulge in the middle delicately, after all, the suitcase contained his most valuable possession - the crocodile mask.
Joost wasn’t taking long moving out of his flat. With the awful deaths of Josh Templemead and Lance on his mind he couldn’t stay put.
Bheki took one last look in the bedroom.
‘I’m going to miss that bed,’ she said with a smile.
‘Well we could try it one last time,’ said Joost.
Bheki tried her best to look reluctant, but Joost wasn’t even watching her face. If he had, it would only have inflamed his passion.
In the evening they were sitting with Eudy. She was younger than Bheki, and didn’t have that dejected hooker look around the eyes that Joost found so irresistible. And her baby bump was getting bigger.
‘I can manage at Themba’s for a while,’ said Eudy.
Themba rented a room from a distant relative, and sharing the bathroom would be a problem, but Eudy was more concerned for Bheki. The doorbell rang.
‘That will be Themba,’ said Eudy ‘and thanks for paying him yesterday Joost.’
‘No problem. I just wish I could do more, but you know ...’
‘The business has to close,’ said Eudy.
She tried to hide her feelings from both of them. But moving out of Bheki’s flat, and Themba unemployed again, was a bitter disappointment.
Joost and Themba shook hands, and Bheki brought in a pot of rooibos tea.
‘Can you help?’ asked Bheki, referring to her missing statue.
‘Sure,’ replied Themba.
There would be no charge, this was family business.
‘It won’t be easy,’ said Joost.
‘Nothing ever is,’ said Themba smiling.
And then they prayed; all of them.
Joost had a long day ahead of him, and he wasn’t sure which would make give him the most anxiety; giving Irena the bad news, or breaking in to Dilwood’s mansion? And what if Dela and her cronies were there? Then the lamb would have come to the slaughter. Anyway first things first, and he boldly stepped out into the snow.
‘Joost, where have you been? I was worried,’ said Irena as Joost entered the office, shaking the snowflakes from his coat.
She was no longer infatuated, but was genuinely concerned for him. After all they’d had a rapport long before their respective lover’s arrived.
‘A little down in the dumps,’ said Joost, and he looked it.
He might be doing his best to look self-assured in front of Bheki, but his troubles were mounting up. He just had to remain focussed, and think of Vankoni.
‘I’m afraid I have some rather bad news Irena. You might want to sit down,’ he said.
‘It’s alright Joost. I already know, the agency is closing,’ said Irena.
Joost’s jaw dropped open.
‘How did you know?’ he asked.
‘Dilwood phoned the office yesterday and told me.’
‘Did he say anything else?’ asked Joost.
‘Only that he’d be seeing you soon, and straightening things out,’ said Irena.
‘I must say though,’ she continued ‘I’m a little surprised. We’ve been inundated with new customers recently.’
‘Have you told the staff?’ asked Joost.
‘Not yet, I was waiting for you. After all you’re the boss.’
They both smiled, then hugged one another. A while ago it might have led to sex, but now they were just friends saying goodbye.
‘
I’ll miss this place,’ said Irena with a tear in her eye.
‘Me too,’ said Joost.
‘But don’t worry Irena you can have everything from here; the staff, the customers, the whole shebang.’
‘That’s kind of you Joost,’ she said, perking up.
‘And if you can get a van this week you can even take the furniture,’ he said.
Irena was now thinking of keeping the office, but Joost didn’t want to tell her the rent; without Dilwood’s drug money propping them up it was unaffordable.
‘Hey you know what, I haven’t even asked about your boyfriend,’ said Joost ‘what does he do?’
‘He’s a businessman like you,’ replied Irena.
‘That’s good, and what’s his business?’
‘Entertainment,’ she said with a look of that’s all you get.
‘And I almost forgot,’ said Joost ‘you’ll have to take the lucky charm.’
He went outside the office into the corridor, leaving Irena scratching her head.
‘Not you as well,’ said Irena as he presented her with Dela’s manikin.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Joost.
‘Oh nothing, it doesn’t matter.’
‘So what’s the future hold Joost?’ she asked whilst closing her laptop.
‘For me or for you?’ he asked.
‘For you of course. I know where my future lies,’ she said smiling.
‘Who knows,’ he replied ‘for now I think I’ll just take stock.’
‘Back to South Africa?’ she asked.
‘Maybe.’
Irena knew all about Stella and Hildy, and the pain in Joost’s heart. At one time she’d hope to heal it, before she’d been swept off her feet.
‘But Joost, why are you closing the office - really? Dilwood was terribly vague, and you’re not much help either.’
Joost sighed.
‘Let’s just say me and Dilwood are going our separate ways.’
They turned off the lights for the last time, and Joost pressed his office keys into Irena’s hand.
‘Here you might as well keep my set as well. I won’t be back,’ he said.
Outside it was still snowing.
‘Well I guess this is it Joost, good luck.’
Irena was wearing a thick coat with a fake fur collar to keep her warm. She wore black boots up to her knees with patterned woolly tights and just for a moment, as she smiled at him, he regretted not having screwed her in the office. He tried to give her a peck on the cheek, but she turned away smiling, and waved the engagement ring he hadn’t noticed.
‘We’re getting married next month,’ she said ‘I guess you could call it a whirlwind romance.’
Chapter Thirty Two
Themba was sitting on Joost shoulders, looking over the wall. They’d just seen Dilwood leave in a hurry, with their own car parked off road behind a barn.
‘All clear,’ said Themba, and he scrambled onto the stone wall.
Joost threw a bag of tools over; this was going to be a smash and grab.
The boundary was older than Dilwood’s mansion. The first great Hall had been raised to the ground in 1790, and not rebuilt until the roaring twenties.
Joost reached for Themba’s outstretched hand, and hauled himself onto the wall. But a gust of wind caught them unbalanced, and they fell into the thick snow on the other side. They dusted themselves down and laughed; nothing broken.
They could see the mansion in the distance, bathed in a green ghoulish light from the night lamps. The windows had a stone ledge underneath, and were equidistant from the entrance hall.
They used the trees for cover, but were conscious of the deep footprints they were leaving behind.
Soon they were on the edge of the fountain. There was a solitary bedroom light on upstairs, and Joost knew Mai would be at home.
‘Let’s go round the back,’ whispered Joost.
They skirted around the country pile hopping from one bush to another.
‘That’s the dining room,’ said Joost, pointing to the far end of the building, cloaked in darkness.
They slowly made their way across the snow, and examined the window. It was toughened glass, and there was no free edge to prise out the frame.
‘Let’s try another,’ said Themba.
Next to the kitchen was a pantry with a small stained glass window. It was art deco, and the only pane Dilwood had not replaced. It was their only hope.
Joost wasn’t a cat burglar, and felt fraudulent as he silently fumbled through his tool kit. Nonetheless he decided on using the old hand drill to chew into the wooden frame. He pushed the bent wire from a coat-hanger through the hole, and on the third attempt slid the latch across. He lifted up the window relieved, and Themba squeezed through the gap, but there was no space for Joost. For a moment they both stood still, but no alarm sounded to break the deadly silence.
‘Themba,’ whispered Joost, and again with no reply.
‘Are you OK Themba?’ he asked.
Finally Themba’s arm twisted out of the window, and he pointed along the building back to the dining room.
‘Got you,’ said Joost and with the snow crunching painfully underfoot he made his way along the house.
The window was now unlocked, and Joost tumbled in head first.
The light switched on, and Themba was sitting down. He looked apologetic, and standing behind him was Mai, pointing a gun to his head.
‘I saw you both on the CCTV as soon as you got over the wall,’ said Mai ‘I was surprised to see you though Joost.’
‘Have you called the police?’ was Joost’s first thought.
‘I think we both know Dilwood wouldn’t want the police questioning you.’
‘So what’s the plan?’ asked Joost ‘wait for Dilwood to get back?’
‘Don’t be silly. I was hoping we could help each other,’ said Mai.
‘That’s kind of awkward with a gun pointing at my friends head,’ said Joost.
‘Oh this,’ said Mai ‘it’s just a toy,’ and when she clicked the trigger a lighter flame shot out from the barrel.
Everyone smiled, although Themba was more relieved than most.
‘Here let’s all go and sit in the lounge,’ said Mai ‘I’ll make us a drink.’
‘Sorry Mai but not for us,’ said Joost.
After what had happened to John he wasn’t taking any chances.
‘I understand,’ said Mai ‘Dela’s been up to her tricks again, hasn’t she.’
‘You know?’
‘Of course Joost. Don’t you know Dilwood talks in his sleep?’ said Mai. ‘But then I guess you two aren’t that close anymore.’
Joost glanced at the statue again.
‘Be my guest,’ said Mai.
Joost opened the glass door, and removed it.
‘You said we could help you,’ said Themba feeling a little left out.
‘Could you?’ she asked.
‘If we can, but what would you want in return?’ asked Joost.
‘Only to get away from here,’ said Mai.
‘But you can walk out anytime,’ said Joost.
‘Not quite,’ said Mai, and she lifted up her long dress.
There was a surveillance tag around her ankle.
‘He’ll know as soon as I leave the grounds or cut it free, and I’ve got nowhere else to go.’
‘What about the police?’ asked Themba.
‘Where do you think he got the tag? His contacts would return me like a lost pet,’ said Mai.
Joost was turning the statue in his hands.
‘Is it the one?’ asked Themba.
‘Yes,’ said Joost.
‘If I’m still here when he
gets back he’ll kill me,’ said Mai brushing away a tear.
‘Don’t worry you’re coming with us,’ said Joost.
Mai immediately hugged him.
‘Let me pack a small bag,’ she said.
‘Quickly,’ said Themba checking his watch.
They’d already spent too long, and no one knew for certain when Dilwood would be back.
With Mai upstairs, Joost walked along Dilwood’s polished glass cabinets, before a silver chalice caught his eye. It had a shield on the front, but on its own it wasn’t a trophy; it kept them. Joost curiously emptied the contents onto the dining table; a necklace, several pairs of ear-rings, a large thumb ring, a skull and crossbones brooch, and a souvenir he half recognised from Oxford; a bicycle reflector fashioned in the shape of a butterfly.
‘I wonder how he would have remembered me?’ asked Mai returning to the room.
‘What do you know about this?’ asked Joost picking up the bent bicycle reflector.
Mai smiled broadly.
‘Lucy Middlemass. She’s been here with her parents, and the others. Wonder what she’d think if she knew Dilwood had tried to kill her.’
‘I wonder,’ said Joost.
He took the butterfly, but left Dilwood’s other souvenirs behind in the cabinet; now they really did have business between them.
At the edge of the wall, and with Bheki’s statue in the bag, Joost cut Mai free. There was no sound, but they all knew wherever Dilwood was alarm bells were ringing. Mai hung tightly onto her little case; it was all she owned in the world.
Din was sitting in the car ahead of them, with a pretty brunette in the passenger seat, when the alarm sounded. Dilwood reached into the pocket of his beaver fur coat, and switched it off.
‘What was that?’ asked Vankoni.
‘It’s Mai,’ replied Dilwood ‘she’s flown the coop. But don’t worry she won’t get far. Besides, it will be fun to see her brought back like a lost dog.’
Dilwood’s misogyny was carefully veiled, although Mai knew long ago he hated women. In his mother’s eyes he’d always been the reminder she wanted to forget, of the rapist that stole her innocence, and he had to take the punishment. In bed he was both selfish, and sadistic.