Heller's Punishment (9 page)

“I want my
stuff back when I leave. Some of those products are very
expensive,” I complained.

He smiled. “Of
course.” He quickly wrote me out a receipt for everything he’d
confiscated. “I don’t want you to think that I’m using your hair
products for myself.” And I had to laugh then, looking at his
shining bald dome. He paused and looked around to check that
Felicia was still in the bathroom, lowering his voice. “Besides,
she’ll steal anything you have that she can sell. I don’t want you
to lose your stuff. Sorry, love, I really am.”

I shrugged
philosophically. Once he’d finished with my bag, he commenced the
pat down and I stood there, arms and legs out, enduring the
indignity. He found my mobile phone and put it in my bag with my
other confiscated items.

“Jorge! I have
to contact my boss every day, otherwise he’ll drive up here
personally to check on me. And trust me, you don’t want that to
happen, because he won’t be happy about it and he’ll bring along a
couple of huge men with him. How can I contact him without my
phone?”

“No worries,
Tilly. You buzz me or another staff member. We’ll accompany you to
the manager’s office where you can phone under supervision. I’m
sorry it sounds so suspicious, but we have good cause, believe me.
We know your particular circumstances, but we have to be careful.
I’m so sorry. But Felicia has history.”

I nodded. “As
long as I can ring my boss, I don’t mind if you’re listening in. It
won’t be private,” I said. “But I really do have to ring him to let
him know I’m okay every day. Do you understand?”

“Not really. He
sounds intense,” he commented mildly, then pulled me closer to the
door by my arm as Felicia exited the bathroom and threw herself on
a bed, turning on the TV.

“Listen up,
Tilly,” he whispered. “I don’t trust her and you shouldn’t either.
We’ve given her a second floor room on purpose, because she’s
already escaped from here twice. Be on your guard at all times. I
can’t stress that enough. If you need anything, use the room phone.
It goes straight to the office. I’m on duty every day for the next
week and my comrade Dave is on duty every night. We’re hardcore
care for the difficult patients, so nothing will get past us,
unless someone murders us. I hope it won’t come to that.” He
smiled.

“Holy shit, me
too!” I said sincerely, eyes huge at the thought.

He looked at me
again. “Oh Tilly, I’m just joking. God, you’re cute. My wife would
love you. It’s so rare to meet someone here that I’d like to invite
home for dinner to meet my family!” He smiled once more and was
about to leave when he paused, hand on the door. “Oh yeah, I almost
forgot.” He tapped a small glass-fronted box affixed to the wall.
“This is the emergency button. If you press this, we’ll come
running, and I do mean running. So only use it in a real
emergency.”

He left the
room quietly, locking the door behind him.
Oh man!
I was a
prisoner in here with Felicia.

I found the
clinic handbook conveniently situated in a plastic display folder,
chained to the bedside table that was bolted to the wall between
the two beds. I sat on my bed to read it. There was a big
introductory blurb on the purpose of the clinic, its philosophy and
mission statement that I perused carefully, and a detailed schedule
for clients. Dinner would be at six, it stated, breakfast at seven
and lunch at one. Lights out at ten, no excuses. Clients who were
confined to their rooms would be collected by one of the nurses and
taken to the dining area. I guess we were in that category.

I turned to
Felicia, who was watching TV with a blank look on her face,
yawning. I noticed with revulsion that I tried to hide, she hadn’t
bothered to put on another pair of panties.
She could at least
close her legs
, I thought angrily. I didn’t need to see
that
again before dinner. She might be relaxed about that
sort of thing, but I wasn’t.

“Felicia!” I
barked to get her attention. “Dinner’s at six.” It was now
five-thirty. She listlessly turned her eyes to me, gave me a
disinterested nod, then turned her attention back to the inane game
show on the TV, which had lots of screaming and whooping from the
audience.

I went to my
pile of approved possessions and carefully stashed them back into
my bag. I was upset looking at the small stack of my things left
behind.
Surely I wasn't defined by my material possessions?
I thought to myself. I’d always wanted to be free of greed and
materialism, but I found that without my phone and my email, I felt
disconnected and slightly panicky. I really needed to talk to
Daniel, Niq and Heller on a regular basis.

Chapter 6

“Why don’t you
take a shower before dinner?” I suggested to Felicia, thinking that
she might like to clean up after peeing all over herself. I would.
But she looked at me as if I’d asked her to swim the Pacific Ocean
alone, coated in body butter made from fish guts.

“
Now
,
Felicia,” I insisted, turning off the TV. “You need a shower.”

In the
bathroom, I set out the towel, soap, washer, shampoo, conditioner
and moisturiser provided by the clinic. I grabbed a fresh change of
clothes for her, but found the rest of her wardrobe as garish and
inappropriate as what she was currently wearing. I took a pair of
precious jeans from my stock and one of her least offensive
t-shirts, careful to find a fresh pair of panties as well, and
placed them in the bathroom for her. No bras had been packed.

I’d read in the
clinic’s handbook that all clients’ laundry needs would be dealt
with by leaving dirty clothes in a messy pile next to the door of
the room. No plastic bag was provided.

They’d
better wash my clothes in a separate machine to Felicia’s
, I
thought grumpily.

After another
unsubtle prompting from me, Felicia listlessly entered the bathroom
and a few minutes later, I heard the splash of the shower running.
I settled down to watch the early news. When that had finished, I
realised that Felicia had been in the bathroom for a ridiculous
amount of time. I jumped off my bed and banged on the door, calling
her name.

There was a
knock on the room door and it opened. Another man in the white
smock and white pants stood at the entry, staring at me.

“You’re not
Felicia,” he said, eyes round with surprise.

“Well spotted,
champ,” I said. He was big like Jorge, but pale with large blue
eyes, floppy fair hair and a full fair beard and moustache. “I’m
Tilly Chalmers. I’ll be staying with Felicia for the next week.
Making sure that she does what she’s supposed to, I guess.”

He nodded his
understanding. “Good. About time someone tried to make her behave.
God knows we haven’t had much luck in that department. Where is
she?”

“In the
bathroom having a shower. But she’s been in there for ages – over
thirty minutes. I was just checking that she was okay.”

He pushed past
me, careful to shut and lock the room door behind him as he did. He
thumped on the bathroom door. “Felicia! It’s Dave. What’s going on
in there? It’s time to go to dinner. Come out now.”

There was
silence from the bathroom; not even the slightest sound of someone
moving around. Dave didn’t hesitate but opened the door without any
further comment and stepped into the bathroom. There was obviously
no privacy in this place for its clients.

“
Shit!
”
he exclaimed when he found her lying on the floor, completely
naked. Her lips were blue around the edge and some drug
paraphernalia was scattered on the vanity.

He dropped to
his knees next to her, commencing CPR and ordered me to pick up the
internal phone and ask for a medic team. The phone was an unusual
design – it had no dial or number pad. You picked up the receiver
and talked to one of the clinic’s office staff. It was not possible
to ring anybody or anywhere else with it.

“Yes, Room
212?” came a voice at the other end.

“We need a
medic team up here immediately. Possible overdose for Felicia
Heyne. Dave is here now giving her CPR,” I said, trying not to
panic.

“Righto,
understood. The team will be there as soon as possible.” Then the
phone disconnected.

A few minutes
later the door was unlocked and flung open. I just managed to jump
out of the way as a man and woman stormed in, carrying a case and a
small cylinder of oxygen. They took over from Dave and sent him off
to retrieve a foldaway gurney from one of the hall cupboards, one
of which was apparently stowed on each floor. They were well
organised at this clinic.

“Do you know
what happened?” called out the woman to me over her shoulder. She
was setting up the oxygen cylinder and adjusting the mask around
Felicia’s mouth.

“No,” I said,
overwhelmed. “I made her go in for a shower and she was taking an
age, so I banged on the door and then Dave turned up and forced the
door open. We found her lying on the floor.”

“Where did she
get the heroin from? Didn’t Jorge frisk her?”

“Yes, he did.
Both of us. I have no idea where the drugs came from.”

Dave returned
with the gurney and quickly commenced assembling it. Everyone was
quiet and professional. The female medic asked Dave the same
questions that she’d asked me. He threw her a disgusted look as he
worked.

“Probably had
them stashed up her arse. Jorge can be a bit squeamish sometimes.
Maybe he didn’t do a full cavity search.” He looked up at me. “Did
he?” I shook my head. “Did she go to the bathroom since she got off
the plane?”

“Yeah, at the
airport. She took a while in there as well. Do you think . . .?” I
couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Who knows? She
could have stashed them before she got onboard. It would be a lot
safer for her getting through security that way instead of having
them in her bag. Jorge really should have checked her better. He’ll
get a bollocking over this tomorrow.” Then he looked at me
speculatively. “I should really do a proper search of you now, just
in case you’re hiding something as well.”

“Don’t even
think about it, Dave,” I warned. “You have to remember that I’m no
friend of Felicia’s. I’m working for her parents and you can check
my credentials with them or with my boss, if you like. But you are
not
giving me a body cavity search. I don’t get paid enough
for that kind of shit!” He shrugged in good-natured defeat.

“She’s
stabilising for now. We’ve given her a shot of
N
aloxone,” said the male medic.

He and the
woman gently lifted Felicia out of the bathroom onto the gurney,
carefully strapping her down, before wheeling her away. Dave stayed
behind and looked around the bathroom, carefully picking up the
disgustingly soiled plastic bag the powder had been stored in and
the cut-off straw she’d been using to snort the drug.

“She would have
preferred to shoot it, but it’s hard to fit a needle, spoon and
lighter up your butt, I suppose. Snorting takes longer to get a hit
and the rush isn’t as good. She’ll be in the infirmary all night
for observation now though, to make sure there are no bad effects.
You never know what heroin’s been cut with – could be anything.
You’ll have a peaceful evening to yourself, Tilly.”

I didn’t want
to sound callous, but I was hungry. “What about dinner?”

“I’ll bring you
up some. No need for you to have to suffer by eating down in the
communal hall with the clients. Will that be okay?”

I nodded.
“Also, I need to ring my boss to let him know that we’ve arrived.
Can I come to the office and do that now?”

“Sure,” he
said. “Follow me.”

He led me
through the maze of hallways back down to the administration area
on the ground floor, taking me past the reception desk into the
back offices. He introduced me to the duty manager, gave her a
brief summary of what had happened with Felicia and explained my
request.

The manager
turned to a row of lockers and found the one for Room 212,
unlocking it and handing over my mobile. I had to stand in front of
the both of them while I had my conversation with Heller. I spoke
fast, not giving him a chance to interrupt, explaining about
Felicia and that he wouldn’t be able to ring me personally on my
phone, but could leave me a message at the office if he needed to
contact me urgently.

Of course he
was concerned. “My sweet, is everything all right? Do you want me
to come there?”

“No! I can
manage,” I snapped, annoyed by his constant assumption that I
needed help. He’d never assume that with any of the men. I said
goodbye without giving him a chance to respond and handed over my
phone to be returned to the locker.

Dave took me
back to the room and locked me inside again. When I protested, he
claimed it was more for my safety than anything, and I had no
choice but to accept that explanation. He returned thirty minutes
later with a tray, placing it on the wall bench for me.

“Enjoy,” he
said and promised to pick it up later, leaving to return to his
dinnertime supervisory activities. I sat down at the bench and
lifted the trays off the plates, surprised to see how delicious the
food was. It was a restaurant quality meal and I ate it with
pleasure, watching the news as I did. Then I took a shower and
slipped into my pyjamas.

Thankfully
Jorge had left me the detective novel I’d packed and I lay on my
bed reading for a while. Dave came back and took my tray away,
advising me that he’d checked on Felicia and she was stable and
resting comfortably. He promised to tell Jorge to bring me
breakfast at seven the next morning, then said goodnight cheerily
and locked the door behind me, leaving me a prisoner.

When I was
bored of reading I found a Marilyn Monroe movie on TV and that
entertained me until bedtime. I slept well and woke early, did some
isometric exercises, including my least favourite, push-ups. For
some obscure reason only known to Jorge, my exercise bands had been
confiscated as contraband goods so I had no exercise equipment to
hand, except my own body.