Down in the Woods

by Gary Philpott

  “Yes. They like frogs and snails.” She lifted her hand to her mouth and coughed into the end of her fist.

  “That doesn’t sound too healthy girl. Sea air is meant to be good for you.”

  A shadow appeared over Anna’s left shoulder.

  She could not see anyone else close by but decided not to take any chances. “Did you buy anything?”

  “No.” The man’s voice was deep and gravely. “What would I be wanting with a huge bar of Toblerone?”

  When the time came for Dave to depart, he did so abruptly.

  “Right then, I’m off. Be lucky.” He moved off down the deck.

  Anna quickly turned to her right. “Thank you. I see you again, yes?”

  Dave did not look back. Anna watched him disappear through a door. She felt like she had lost a good friend.

  “Right then, so there’s no confusion, my name is Ken. I’ve agreed to drop you off the M6 up Manchester way. I will say I intended to find somewhere quiet to collect the fare.”

  Still reeling from watching Dave go, Anna was not taking it all in.

  “Your name is Scotty.”

  “No, my name is Ken. I live in Glasgow. That is why I will be driving up the M6.”

  “Where is Scotty? Scotty take me to London.”

  The man smiled for the first time. “Glasgow is in Scotland. Dave calls me Scotty because I’m from Scotland. I am Scotty from Scotland. Do you get it now?”

  “Your name is Ken.”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Anna.”

  “As far as I’m concerned your name is Julie. You told me your name is Julie, the same name that is on your British passport.”

  “I shag with you. First you must take me to Manchester. This is correct, yes?”

  “You seem to have it now.”

  “You will take me to London.”

  “I will take you to London, unless we get stopped or followed. If that happens you are going to Manchester.”

  “I understand. We must not get stopped.”

  “It would help if we didn’t. If they ask, this is where we met, right here. I heard you arguing with Dave. I moved in. He fucked off and you asked me for a lift to Manchester.”

  “Lift, this is journey in your car, yes?”

  “It is. If you offer someone a lift you are offering them a journey in your car. You asked for a lift. I said yes as long as you made it worth my while. You said you would make it worth my while when we got to Manchester. Now, we don’t think there are any cameras pointing at this spot, but just in case we need to kiss. I will put my hand on your breast as we do that.”

  “You will not.”

  “It needs to look real. Either we kiss and I put my hand on your breast or you walk off this boat on your own.”

  “You will leave me?”

  “Dave has your money. What’s it to be?”

  Anna looked towards the English coastline ahead of them. Dave was a nice man. With him it would have been a small price to pay to get to England and to be with Anton again. Ken was smelly and unshaven. She was not going to like this at all.

  “We just kiss. No hand on breast.”

  “Have it your way.” he stared her in the eye and nodded. Then took hold of the rail they were leaning on and straightened his arms. “Good luck on your own.”

  “No.” Anna swung her rucksack over her right shoulder and clutched his arm with her left hand.

  The two moved together. She tilted her head back to invite his lips onto hers. His breath was awful. His lizard-like tongue darted into her mouth. Her stomach churned and her shoulders tightened. His right hand went inside her denim jacket and onto her ribcage. His tongue was still violating her mouth and his hand was moving upwards. Every instinct in her body told Anna to pull away. His fingers clenched her breast and started to knead it heavily.

  Anna pulled her mouth away from his. “No more kissing.”

  “As you like.” He squeezed her breast violently.

  She breathed in sharply. “You bastard.”

  “Aye. But I’m the bastard that is going to get you ashore.”

  “Stop now.”

  His hand slipped out of her jacket. “I’ll have a grope of the other one later.”

  “I will go to find Dave. I know where he has car.”

  Ken’s expression changed dramatically. “No need for that.”

  What was it? thought Anna. This man was almost twice the size of Dave. Then it occurred to her, Dave had the money, not Ken. That meant he was probably higher up in the pecking order.

  “You do not live in London?” Anna decided to calm the waters with some small-talk.

  “My home is in Glasgow, but the work is in London.”

  “Do you have children?”

  “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t need to work in bloody England. I could make enough in Glasgow to look after myself.”

  “You do not like England?”

  “Aagh, it’s okay, but Scotland is better. You’ll learn.”

  “What will I learn?”

  “The people with the power look after themselves and London. They don’t give a shit about you, me, or anyone else for that matter.”

  “It is better than Latvia, yes?”

  “Aye, maybe it is. I’m going for a piss. I suggest you do the same. They’ll be calling us down in ten minutes or so. I’ll meet you back here.”

  Anna waited a moment before following him. Dover docks had suddenly loomed up on them. She was so close, almost within touching distance. The nervous excitement fed through to her bottom. It had cost her life’s savings, a sore cheek and a manhandled breast, but it looked green and beautiful, it had to be worth it.

  In the cubicle Anna kept thinking she had torn off the last sheet of toilet paper she would need, but her bottom always had other ideas. It only surrendered when there was a loud chime through the public address system. Drivers and their passengers were being called to the car decks.

  Anna folded two sheets of toilet paper into a narrow strip and tucked it into her knickers, just in case. Next she pulled up her jeans and flushed the toilet. In her rush, she was about to leave without washing her hands. She couldn’t do it. She let the door shut again and went back to the sinks.

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  “The toilet.”

  Ken grabbed her hand. “We can’t afford to fuck this up now,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve got my car in virtually pole position, but if no one is in it, they will unload another line before us.”

  He did not let go of her hand as they swiftly made their way to the crowded stairwell. Not until it was impossible to do so did Ken stop squeezing them both in front of other people.

  In fact, they sat in his silver Vauxhall Astra for ten minutes before the door lifted and the car deck was bathed in daylight. A man in a large fluorescent yellow jacket signalled for the line to their left to go first.

  “Shit.” Ken drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Have you done this before?” asked Anna.

  “No.” It was the answer she expected.

  “Don’t worry. I do not tell them what you do.”

  His shoulders dropped a little. He stopped drumming the wheel. “I have my story.”

  “Yes, you have your story. I promised you a shag. You were not going to get it, but I promised it to you.”

  He smiled nervously. Anna had calmed him a little.

  She was too close; she could not let this horrible man ruin it for her at the last hurdle. Dave’s black Fiat Panda passed on their left.

  “He’s fucking gone off first. He’s gone in front of us.”

  “He had no choice. This is his problem, not yours.”

  “That’s right.”

  The controller stepped across to the right and swept his arm in a large arc.

  Ken dropped the handbrake and crept towards the bumper of the only car in front of him. “Come on you bastard, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

&nb
sp; The brake lights went out and the car moved forward. Ken was right behind him.

  “Not so close,” gasped Anna.

  Ken allowed the gap to open up a little. The metal bridge clunked twice as they drove out onto British soil.

  The two lines of cars swung to the right, and then to the left. Anna could see Dave’s car halfway up the large concrete ramp ahead of them. He was going slow. A large Renault stayed behind him, but most drivers impatiently pulled out to go past.

  Ken had obviously seen him and eased down on the accelerator.

  Not too fast, thought Anna. She kept her thoughts to herself.

  The lanes curved round in a large sweep and they dropped down towards passport control and customs. Still slightly in front, Dave made for the longer queue on the left. Ken headed for the back of the queue on the far right.

  The queue turned out to be shorter, but it was also slower. Ken was stewing in his own juices. Anna wanted the toilet, but knew she had to deal with Ken.

  “Do you not like Toblerone?” she asked.

  “I do, but it’s too expensive, even duty free.”

  “Duty free? What is this?”

  “It means you don’t pay the tax. Tax is what the government add to the cost.” They moved another car’s length.

  “There is no tax on Toblerone?”

  “It’s not just Toblerone; beer, wine, spirits, everything.”

  “I read there is tax in England.” The conversation was not helping Anna relax but it was stopping her worrying about her body language. It was also suppressing the urge to be sick.

  “No, you pay tax in England and Scotland, but not on the boat. To be honest I think you do pay the tax nowadays, but they pay it for you. Whatever it is, you get it cheaper.”

  The next two cars were only stopped at the booth a matter of seconds. This time they moved forward a lot more smoothly.

  “Where would we have had a shag?” It was the only question Anna could think to ask.

  “I would have found somewhere.”

  “Do you know a hotel?”

  “Who needs a hotel when you have reclining seats? Hold up, almost there.”

  They were only one car away. Anna glanced over to the far side. Dave was already having his passport examined.

  “Give me your passport,” said Ken.

  Anna pulled out Julie’s passport and passed it to him. He added it to the one he was holding against the steering wheel. It was their turn. Ken had not issued her any instructions. Dave’s advice from earlier that day replayed in her head. Ken held their passports through the window as the car slowed to a stop. The officer dropped his head and looked across to Anna.

  She met his eyes with hers. Dover here I come, she said to herself, and then dropped her eyes to the handbrake.

  He did not even take their passports; he just waved them through with a sweep of his finger.

  The four lanes funnelled into one. Anna had only ever travelled from Latvia to Poland to pick up the van. As a consequence she did not really understand what the customs shed was, but could see it was another obstacle to get through.

  They lurched over a speed bump. A line of customs officers were staring into every car. Anna was more anxious than she had ever been. She clenched her bum cheeks together and was reminded of the toilet paper she had placed there.

  The car in front was directed off to the left. They received no such signal. Ken kept the car moving slowly forward and they came back out into daylight.

  “That’s it. We’ve made it.” An ear-to-ear grin broke out across his face.

  Anna dropped her head back into her seat’s head restraint and closed her eyes for a full five seconds.

  She opened them again as the narrow lane swung them left and then quickly right. It was not a dream, she was in England.

  “I cannot believe this. This is so good.”

  “Dave’s made it too.” Ken nodded his head and stared forward.

  The Fiat was just going over the roundabout.

  Ken swung them left and they started on the long uphill climb away from the docks. Anna looked back over her shoulder and watched Dave’s car heading off in the direction of Folkestone.

  “Dave no go to London?”

  “You take the low road and I’ll take the high road, and you will be in London before me.”

  Anna looked up at a large communications mast in front of them. Its red lights glowed against the darkening sky behind it. She then turned and looked down at the ferry terminal. It was a sight that would live in her memory forever. It was the place where she had made it into England, the threshold to all that was going to happen to her in the coming months.

  Signposts counted down the miles to London as they cruised along the road at seventy miles an hour. Ken explained how he was sticking to the national speed limit to minimise the risk of being pulled over by the police.

  Anna wanted him to go faster, she wanted to get into Anton and his waiting arms as soon as possible, but she appreciated Ken’s caution. Her tickly cough was annoying her, but at least her bottom was now behaving itself.

  Ken put the left indicator on two hundred metres from a slip road. London was signposted straight ahead. Anna looked at the petrol gauge. It was just above half, there was no need to stop for petrol. They had not long passed a service station; he would have stopped there if he needed the toilet or a drink.

  “Where are we going?” she asked anxiously.

  “Trust me. This way is better.”

  They joined a main road and stayed on it for two miles. Ken turned off and proceeded up a winding country lane. Anna’s muscles tensed. She knew her fate. She had to think, and she had to think fast.

  “This’ll do.” Ken steered the car onto a narrow track that was more suitable for a tractor than a saloon car. Ten metres down it he brought the car to a stop and cut the engine.

  He turned her way and ran his eyes up and down her body.

  Would he have a knife or a gun? thought Anna. Probably not, how would he explain that if the car had been searched at Dover. She then dismissed it as an irrelevance, he was big and strong enough to overpower her without a weapon.

  “Take your shoes off and then recline your seat,” he commanded.

  Anna undid her seatbelt and let it recoil itself. She then moved her rucksack away from her feet and squeezed it in between her hips and the door. After that, she did not move a muscle.

  “There are two ways of doing this. Which do you prefer?”

  She reached for the door handle.

  “Oh no you don’t.” He stretched over and grabbed her hair.

  Anna flung the door open and threw herself out. The blonde wig came off in his hand. He grabbed the shoulder strap of her rucksack.

  They were in a stand-off position. Each had hold of one shoulder strap. She was outside the car and could easily just let go and run down to the road. Ken was still strapped in and his door was closed. It would not be much of a head start, but she would make the lane before him. Anna concluded that would not do her much good unless she saw a pair of headlights coming their way.

  “Don’t even think about it you stupid bitch. Do you know where you are? Do you have any English money?”

  “I have dollars.”

  “Dollars are no fucking use here. Now get back in the car and we can start again.”

  “I will phone Dave. He will come and give me lift.”

  “You haven’t got a phone. If you have it will be in this bag and I assure you of one thing lady, I am not letting go of it. Why the fuck am I discussing this. Dave wouldn’t give a foreign tart like you his phone number.”

  “He did.” Anna quickly scanned for any sign of habitation. There was a white glow a long way off. Running towards it would mean running the wrong way down the dark track.

  “No he fucking didn’t. That wanker can’t help you now. Get back in the car.” His tone was aggressive, but it also conveyed some uncertainty.

  “I will phone Dave. When I get to London,
I phone Dave.”

  A sudden jerk on the rucksack made her stumble forward. Only by flinging her arm onto the roof of the car did she stop her head being propelled towards her assailant.

  “How long do you think you can keep this up for? Take your clothes off and suck my cock. We don’t have to fuck.”

  If she had understood him correctly, he was negotiating. The mention of Dave had now forced him to backtrack on two occasions.

  An image of Anton’s handwriting flashed through her mind. In his last few letters he had written a message on the bottom, it included his friends name for a drink containing a lot of vodka. I cannot wait to buy you a knicker-dropper-glory in an English pub.

  “Dave wants to meet me. He wants to buy me something. This is called a knicker-dropper-glory.”

  It worked, Ken let go of the rucksack.

  “Get back in. I’ll take you as far as Maidstone. You’re on your own from there.” He restarted the engine. “Come on, I’m not a rapist.”

  Anna believed he was telling the truth. She climbed back into her seat but left the seatbelt off. Ken reversed the car back down the track and out onto the lane.

  “You’ll have to change your ways if you want a roof over your head.” He put the car in first gear and pulled away.

  Anna did not respond.

  “The choice is twelve hours in a sweat shop or thirty minutes in a hotel room. You’ll be turning tricks before you know it.” He went up through the gearbox and then put his hand on her thigh.

  She flinched, but did not knock it away.

  “Open the glove box. There are two tenners in there. If you want more you’ll need to undo your jeans.”

  “Is Maidstone in London?” She opened the glove box and took out the two notes.

  “No, but you can get a train from there.”

  “Will this pay for the train?”

  “Aye, it will. But you won’t have much left to buy food or pay for accommodation.” His hand moved up towards her groin.