‘Vay!’
‘I know. But because the film was still going, guns firing and all that, we didn’t hear his wife come in. And then suddenly there she was, standing over us.’
‘Ooof. Awkward. What did she say?’
‘She looked at me and Jason for a moment, and I thought she was going to go completely crazy and start screaming, but she didn’t say anything at all, she just took her jacket off and knelt on the floor and started licking, um…this.’ She points to the scar on her face.
Both girls stare at Oxana, open-mouthed.
‘And then?’ Defne whispers.
Oxana shrugs helplessly. ‘One thing led to another. They tied me up and dripped hot candle wax on my thighs. They made me wear a horsehair tail.’
‘Strap-on?’ Buse asks.
‘No. Up my bum. The next day, after the children’s tea, they told me that my services were no longer needed.’
‘Wow,’ Buse murmurs. ‘Harsh.’
Oxana nods. ‘I’m trusting you both. Never, ever mention this toanyone.’
‘But they treated you terribly,’ Defne says. ‘People should know.’
‘I’d prefer it if they didn’t. It’s possible I got a bit carried away myself; it’s all a bit of a blur. And I do take confidentiality very seriously. For example, I would never breathe a word about either of you girls, whatever happened. So I’m trusting you.’
Defne nods, lies back, and closes her eyes. ‘Well, I guess we have to trust you too.’
Oxana realises she’s left her sunscreen cream in her cabin. She could ask Defne or Buse if she could have some of theirs, but she’s pretty certain that this would seem presumptuous, certainly as far as Buse is concerned, and she doesn’t want to get the girls’ backs up. So she makes her way across the deck to the companionway, and heads down the stairs towards her cabin. She’s halfway between the owners’ deck and the main deck when she sees Atlas marching purposefully above her, accompanied by a nervous-looking figure. It’s the French deckhand who carried Defne’s suitcase to her cabin. Taking a step down to avoid being seen, Oxana watches as the two men stop outside Tahir’s private lounge. Atlas knocks quietly, and the door opens.
Tahir looks the deckhand up and down. ‘Noah,’ he says quietly. ‘Come in.’
Atlas follows Noah into the private lounge, and the door closes.
Sun cream, Oxana reminds herself, and continues her descent.
24
‘So,’ Philippa says. ‘Tell me.’
She and Eve are back in the hospital cafeteria, although neither can face any more of the food and drink on offer. Around them, at nearby tables, patients’ relatives and friends sit in near silence. A tinny sound system is playing an ABBA medley at a volume just high enough to be annoying.
‘Tom feels worse about things than he should,’ Eve tells her. ‘He’s the victim of an organised crime network which knows exactly which buttons to press with kids like him.’
Philippa regards her quizzically. ‘How do you know about stuff like this? If you don’t mind me asking.’
Eve takes her glasses off and starts to polish them on a paper napkin. ‘I used to work in a liaison role with the police. Home Office. That sort of thing.’
‘In other words, don’t ask.’
Eve replaces her glasses, blinks and smiles. ‘We’ve both got our witchcraft.’
Philippa nods. ‘I was right, though? About it being a drugs thing?’
‘Yes, you were right. In the last few years, small country towns like this have been targeted by drugs gangs looking to expand their customer base. They use kids like Tom to transport drugs and weapons from London, Manchester and other big cities, and they use them to store the stuff locally. The kids often don’t know that they’re being used, or how dangerous these people are.’
Above their heads, a strip light begins to flicker. From behind the food counter, an obese man walks slowly towards their table, carrying a broom. When he reaches it, he jabs vaguely at the light with the broom handle. Nothing happens. The light continues to flicker. The man glances at Eve and Philippa, shrugs, and walks slowly back to the food counter.
‘He looks like a catch,’ Eve says.