Down in the Woods

by Gary Philpott

  “I know this, but you like, yes?”

  “Let me see them without the coat.”

  Anna took the coat off and carefully folded it back into the bag. Once she was standing back up straight, she held out her arms and sought Jonathan’s approval with a smile.

  “Very nice,” he smiled back. “Would I be right in thinking there is a pink dress in one of those bags?”

  She nodded and pulled a bag out from within a bag. Once she had carefully unfolded the short dress, she held it up to her chest.

  “I like it. Why don’t you pop into your room and put it on?”

  “Here, hold this for me. You are my friend. I do not have to worry.”

  Jonathan took the dress from her. She then unzipped the black dress she had shortened earlier that week.

  As she held the black dress out in exchange for the pink one, Jonathan asked, “Is it okay to look for a few seconds?”

  Anna did not respond. She just stood there with her dress held out towards him, letting his eyes enjoy her body. It made her feel desired. It made her feel good.

  “Sorry, Anna,” he said after a few seconds had passed. He took hold of the black dress and moved the pink one closer to her.

  Anna smiled nervously and said, “It is better not to show you the underwear.”

  “It is Anna. You should not have done that. I can resist anything but temptation.”

  “I mean the pink underwear.”

  “Oh right, the La Senza bag contains pink underwear, does it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you are right. It is best you don’t show me that.”

  “Would it make you a happy man if I do this?”

  “Oh Anna…” He stepped back and dropped into an armchair. “…Please don’t tease me like this.”

  “I do not want to tease you. But I would like you to be happy. I know you are lonely.”

  “I am not lonely, I have you here.”

  “You are not lonely, but you do not have a woman to make you happy, the way a man should be happy.” She pulled the pink dress over her head. “You make me very happy. I should make you happy.”

  “No Anna, it would only make me want to fuck you. Shit! There, I‘ve said it now. I want to fuck you.”

  “You cannot fuck me, but you can look.”

  “I can look?”

  “Yes, if you want, I do this for you. I will show you my pink underwear. It is better than being a prostitute.”

  “You wouldn’t have become a prostitute, would you?”

  “I don’t know. What could I have done without you to help me? If it had not been for you, I would have had to choose between being a prostitute or going to prison. I have much to thank you for.”

  “No Anna, I can’t let you repay me this way. It’s not right.”

  “I do have feelings for you. I want to make you happy. I will give you a little show.”

  “Okay, you win. Give me a little show. But I warn you, I may need some time alone afterwards.”

  Anna picked up the La Senza bag and walked the short distance to her room.

  She emerged five minutes later, still wearing the pink dress, and still wearing the pink stilettos. She had added a pair of pink, fine-fishnet hold-ups.

  Still sitting in his armchair, Jonathan looked at her and wondered how skimpy the pink underwear beneath the dress would be.

  Anna moved very close to him. “Do you like sexy Anna?”

  “I do like sexy Anna, yes.”

  She swayed her hips a few times.

  “If I take off dress, you look, but you don’t touch?”

  “I won’t touch you, Anna. You have my word on that.”

  “Okay, Anna take off dress.” She slowly undid the two buttons between her breasts. She then stroked her nipples through the fabric.

  Jonathan sat watching her nipples harden. His suspicions were soon confirmed as it became obvious that she was not wearing a bra. “What happened to the pink underwear?”

  “I save this for Anton. Jonathan would like to wank, yes?”

  “Wank? I didn’t know you knew words like that.”

  “Men like to look, and they like to wank. I know this.”

  “Well, they do, but…”

  “A wank would make it better for you, yes?”

  “You understand men too well.”

  “I would like to fuck you Jonathan, but I must not. You should wank.”

  “You would like to fuck me?”

  “If I did not love Anton, I would like to fuck you.”

  “Well, I’m shocked. Okay, here goes.” He lowered his zip, and undid the button above it. His erection popped out of his underpants.

  “You have a nice cock.” Anna smiled seductively.

  Jonathan began to rub himself. Anna slipped the straps over her shoulders and shimmied the dress down to the floor. Her neatly trimmed bush was staring Jonathan straight in the face.

  Anna moved her feet apart to give him a better view of what he wanted a better view of. Tension built across his face. His fist tightened and the pace increased.

  “Please let me fuck you,” he groaned.

  “No.” Anna reached down and parted herself for him. “Fuck me with your mind.”

  “Oh, Anna, you are so…fuckable.”

  “You like me naked?”

  “Oh yes, I like you naked.”

  “Show me how much you like Anna.” She stared at his penis.

  He exploded a few seconds later.

  A slight feeling of power swept through her mind as she stood looking at him. “I enjoyed watching you wank. It make me happy to see this.”

  “I haven’t seen this side of you before. It seems that still waters do indeed run deep. But, thank you. I enjoyed watching you watching me… Well, you know.”

  Anna smiled a satisfied smile and left him to clean himself up.

  She changed back into her old dress before preparing a dish of chicken, rice and salad for the two of them. During the course of the meal, Anna could not stop talking about all her little experiences in Oxford Street’s shops, and what she would do once she was back in Riga. Mingled in amongst it all were a hundred questions about the logistics of the journey ahead. The constant interruptions between mouthfuls of food were enough to give Jonathan indigestion.

  Once he was settled into his armchair, with a can of beer in his left hand and the remote in the other, Jonathan started flicking through the channels. “As always, nothing worth watching until ten o’clock,” he stated. “We might as well watch the news. You don’t mind a bit of doom and gloom now and then, do you?”

  Anna judged a smile and a shake of the head to be the best response. She did not pay too much attention to the headline item about the British economy, too many things were whizzing around her head. She imagined passing through passport control, over and over again. Each time, the man in uniform studied her passport and checked the computer screen, for what seemed like an eternity. But every time, he eventually nodded and said thank you, just like the man did when she passed across into Poland.

  Her head was also filled with fantasies about walking in on Anton unexpectedly, wearing her pink dress, and all that went with it. That was the scenario playing out in her head when her attention was drawn to the television.

  “Rashida!” she almost shouted at the face on the screen. She listened intently to what was being said, but it was the tail-end of the news item, requesting anyone with information to contact the Metropolitan Police, or their local police station.

  Jonathan knew not to interrupt her until the newsreader switched from his sombre face to a happy one, and cheerily moved on to the next item.

  “You know her?” he asked.

  “Why was she on television?”

  Anna’s face told him she already knew. “She’s been murdered. Do you know her?”

  “I know her, she is my friend.”

  “She didn’t look Latvian.”

  “No, I met her in Calais.”

  “
What, during the bit we agreed not to talk about.”

  “When I am coming to England, we were together in a flat. Rashida left before me. I see her again in a pharmacy.”

  “So you did not meet her until you got to Calais, on your way here?”

  “I think she became prostitute. I am glad I am not a prostitute.” Anna put her head in her hands and started to cry.

  “Oh Anna, don’t cry.” He dropped onto his knees and crawled over to her. Lifting her hair away from her face, he said, “You are alive, that is what is most important.”

  Almost an hour passed before Jonathan could get any real sense out of Anna. “Let me see if I have got this right. Her name is Rashida, and she was originally from Lebanon, but had lived in Turkey for a few years. You first met her in some shit-hole of a flat in Calais. You met her again in a chemist shop over Harringay way. She had a mobile and what you believe was a lot of condoms in a bag.”

  “Yes, I think she had become a prostitute. She said we must avoid being prostitutes.”

  “When did she say that?” Jonathan looked confused.

  “She said this when we were in the horrible flat.”

  “And you did Anna. You did avoid becoming a prostitute.”

  “Rashida did not. Rashida is dead. If she use the same chemist, she will have used the same doctor. It will be the doctor. The doctor will have killed Rashida.”

  “The doctor? I think I should pour you a glass of wine, and we should sit down and talk through this slowly, very slowly.”

  “Here you go, take a sip of that. I have no idea if it is any good or not, a mate of mine bought me a couple of bottles of this stuff after I did him a favour. By rights, he should have paid at least a carpet for it, but the stingy sod probably only shelled out a fiver. What do you think?”

  “It is good, thank you.”

  “Tell me about this doctor.”

  “He is a bad man. He made me undo my bra. I did not need to this. I only had a chest infection.”

  “Well, Anna, to be fair, I had to take my shirt off at the doctor’s when I had a chest infection.”

  “He make me breathe in and out. He look at my boobies going up and down, he touch them.”

  “Ah, I see, that is a bit out of order. So why do you think this Rashida used the same doctor?”

  “It is hard for us to find a doctor. You need a number to have a doctor.”

  “Right, I’m with you now. If you are an illegal immigrant you do not have a National Insurance number, and you can’t register with a GP. You could have pretended to be a tourist.”

  “I did not think of this.”

  “Well, I guess you were looking for a doctor you could keep going back to if you had to.”

  “Yes, this is right. A lot of people who come to England my way use this doctor.” Anna shuddered at the thought of the man.

  “And that is why you think this Rashida girl used him. This isn’t bad wine as it happens. All is forgiven Fisnik. He’s an illegal. I bet Fisnik could have found you a good doctor. Did your guy rip you off as well?”

  “Do you mean; was he expensive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes. The pharmacy man was also expensive.”

  “Jesus, I hadn’t thought of how people like you would get prescription drugs when you needed them. Shit.”

  “The pharmacy is near the doctor. They work together. I go to the doctor. He give me a special prescription, I have to take this to the special pharmacy”

  “So the fact that Rashida was at the dodgy pharmacy, makes you think she used the same dodgy doctor. It doesn’t mean the doctor killed her though, does it?”

  “I think he would want to fuck me if I did not stop him.”

  “Are you saying this doctor wanted sex in return for a prescription, that he would have gone that far?”

  “I think so, yes. He was a horrible man. I did not feel safe with him.”

  “Well, it’s a theory.”

  “I must tell the police.”

  “Whoa Anna, let’s not be hasty here.”

  “I will tell the police to arrest the doctor.”

  “That might not be the wisest thing to do. You have no evidence. And where would that leave you if the guy is found to be totally innocent? Where would it leave me come to that?”

  “I have to telephone the police.”

  “Sorry Anna, I can’t let you do that.”

  “If I take my clothes off, will you allow me to telephone the police?”

  “That’s a bit below the belt. No, don’t do that,” protested Jonathan, as he saw her unzipping her dress.

  Anna stopped in her tracks, but she did not take her hand off the zip.

  “Okay, you can call the police. Just not from here, that’s all. We’ll go to the pub. You can do it from there.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Look, if the police come here, they will want to know exactly how I am connected to you. Before you know it, they will get the wrong end of the stick and turn this place over. And my shop, come to that. I can’t be having that.”

  “I will have to give my address.”

  “Oh shit, you will, won’t you? No, I’ve got it. Give them the address of your flat near my shop.”

  “I do not have the key.”

  “I will be with you. We were out having a drink together, like we’ve done before, and you saw Rashida’s photo in the Evening Standard. I will play the Good Samaritan and come down the police station with you. I doubt if you’ll be out of there before dawn, you’ll have a lot of explaining to do. I’ll pick up a Standard on the way to the pub. If her photo is not… What’s the matter Anna?”

  “I do not want to spend the night in a police station.”

  “Well, to be blunt Anna, it may well be more than one night. You’re an illegal immigrant. They may not let you out at all. This is a fucking mess this is.”

  Anna shot him a chastising look.

  “Sorry, you don’t like that word, do you? Except when you talk dirty, that is. Oh Anna, don’t look so insulted.”

  “I am a whore.”

  “No you are not. Most couples talk dirty to each other during sex. Blimey, I even overheard my mum telling my dad to fuck her hard one night.” He laughed and looked up to the ceiling. “I was only nine at the time; I had to look fuck up in a dictionary the next day.”

  “We are not a couple.”

  “Look Anna, you don’t need to regret what you did. It stays between me and you. Once you are back in Riga with Anton, what you did for me will be a distant memory. It will fade with time. Besides, it was a nice gesture, it brightened up my life. I bet you forget about it long before I do. You’re not a whore, I’m a wanker.”

  “I am not a bad woman.”

  “Was that a question or a statement? Whatever, you’re a lovely woman. What you did was an act of kindness.”

  “I should not have enjoyed it.”

  “What?” He shook his head. “Let’s save that conversation for later. What are we going to do about the police? That is the question we need an answer to.”

  “Take me to Hammersmith.”

  “What?”

  “Take me to Hammersmith. I will walk into the police station. I will not tell them of you.”

  “Not only am I a wanker, I’m a bloody idiot. You don’t need to go into a police station to talk to the police, do you? And if you play your cards right, they need never come to you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “What I am saying is that we make an anonymous call or two. We start with a tip off, and then add detail later.”

  “The police are clever. They will find me.”

  “I may not have gone to university, but I’m just as intelligent as most coppers. Anna, all we need to do is wait until tomorrow morning. I don’t fancy doing what I have in mind tonight. Can you wait until tomorrow?”

  “I will not sleep, but I will wait.”

  “If we finish this bottle and then I open the other one, we�
��ll both sleep like logs. Tell you what, while the alcohol takes effect, I’ll show you how to set up a couple of email accounts. We’ll set up one for you and one for Anton.”

  “Do I need my passport for this?”

  “No, Anna, you do not need your passport. I could set an account up for my front door if I wanted to.”

  “Why would you do this?” She managed to keep a straight face.

  “It was a joke Anna. Ah, you’ve fucking had me again, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I fucking have you.”

  Jonathan had fully charged the mobile phone Sofia gave Anna. They were now standing as close to Kevin’s house as they dared go.

  “Okay, turn it on.”

  Anna pressed the power-button and stared at the small screen.

  “Good, you have a signal. Now dial nine-nine-nine. And don’t forget, just hang up the moment I signal four minutes is up.”

  She pressed three nines in succession, followed by the call-button.

  “Hello, emergency, which service do you require?”

  “Police.”

  “Hello, this is the police emergency line. How can I help?”

  “I know who killed Rashida.”

  “Is your life under threat?”

  “No. I need to talk to the dee..tective in charge of the girl on the television case.”

  “One moment, I am transferring you through to CID.”

  As they waited, Jonathan stared at his watch.

  “Hello, Detective Inspector Stuart Doyle here. You have some information relating to last night’s television appeal?”

  “It was a doctor.”

  “A doctor?”

  Jonathan tapped her on the shoulder and held up a single finger.

  “Yes. He has a shop in Harringay. His name is Dr Askew.”

  “Who am I speaking to?”

  “I wish to remain anomy…amony…”

  “I understand madam. Can I call you Sue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay Sue. Did you know the victim?”

  “Yes, I am a friend of Rashida.”

  “The victim’s name is Rashida?”

  Jonathan ran his finger across his throat.

  “Do you have my number?” asked Anna.

  “Yes, I have your number.”

  “Text me your number. Goodbye.” She ended the call.