The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.) (11 page)

The next time he had seen her she had been strolling through the woods as though taking a walk in a country park. Seemingly oblivious to the dangers that lurked out here, she was obviously nuts. But at least she wasn’t nuts enough to stray from the path, so maybe there was some hope for her.

He could not avoid her so he walked by her as though he had not seen her, but once again she had taken him by surprise when she smiled and said, “
good morning, Mr.
Lando.”
So, she knew his name, she knew who he was. She must have heard the gossip about him, she must have heard that he was a crazy hermit and been warned to steer clear of him but that hadn’t seemed to deter her. Maybe
she
was crazy and recognised a like mind. He had grunted something unintelligible and walked quickly past her.

He thought that would do it, that his rudeness and unsociability would put her off speaking to him again. It didn’t. He had seen her again the next day, this time she was looking upward at something through binoculars, birds probably. He had turned to walk in the opposite direction but she must have heard him because she said, “
good afternoon, Mr. Lando.”
He had half turned to her then carried on walking. Undeterred by his ignorance she had added,
“it’s a beautiful day isn’t it?
” He had pretended not to hear and continued walking, faster this time. She called after him, “
good day then, Mr. Lando.
” And there was definite amusement in her voice as she said it.

The next time he’d met her was the day before when he had come upon her after she had strayed from the path. He had been very rude and intimidating that day he had to admit, and he had left her there knowing she was lost and uncertain, and although she had tried to hide it behind humour, a little afraid. He had been taken aback when she had grabbed his arm, it had been a long time since a woman had touched him, it had been a long time since anyone had touched him come to that.

He had expected her to follow him but when she didn’t he knew he could not leave her there, she might wander around all day, maybe for days, going round and round in circles. So he had gone against his better judgement and waited for her. It was lucky that he had because she would have ventured right into the swamp. She had given him that haughty look but hadn’t spoken to him so maybe she had been angry with him, he couldn’t blame her for that.

Then of course he had acted like a nutcase when she had entered his outhouse, his sanctuary. He wasn’t sure why he had acted as he had towards her, maybe because he thought she might tell everyone in town that he kept animals in one of his buildings and took care of them. He wasn’t sure why he cared whom she told and he didn’t know why he didn’t want the townspeople to know about his little animal hospital, he just didn’t.

But somehow deep down he knew she wouldn’t tell anyone what she had seen, that she would respect his privacy.

Maybe she was of the same mind; she was alone on her vacation in an isolated cabin after all. But then he had been wrong about people before, people he thought he knew better than he knew himself. He had once upon a time prided himself on his ability to read people, until he had been let down, lied too, deceived, betrayed. Or maybe the people he had misjudged were just very good at hiding their true feelings. Still, maybe he shouldn’t have acted as he had towards her; she had been embarrassed and very contrite.

He thought about the last time he had seen her, with that girl; she had put up quite a fight when she had thought he was one of those two men. He respected a fighter.

     
But every fibre of his being, every instinct he had honed and perfected both as a cop   and as a con, was telling him that the girl was going to cause real trouble for the English woman. Well, as long as they and those men didn’t come back and bother him again, he didn’t give a fuck what happened to any of them. He had warned the woman, what more could he do, she was none of his business after all.

He ran his fingers impatiently through his hair, donned his hat, called Dante and together they set out for their walk.

                                              
*********

Adela and Olivia sat in the living area, Adela on the armchair leaning forward listening intently as Olivia on the sofa talked. She had finally convinced Olivia to talk and to tell her everything, where she came from, where she had been who or what she was running from. It had not been easy but Adela was nothing if not persistent. Olivia was doubtful, mistrustful and frightened. So to make her more at ease and to convince Olivia to trust her Adela had told her about her own life, about her mother and her alcoholism, about the abuse both physical and psychological she had suffered at her hands. About how she had cared for her all her life, even as a child, until she had died a few months ago.

Olivia listened wide eyed. Adela told her story emotionlessly as if it wasn’t really important, just part of her life that had been but was no longer. But Olivia saw the deep hurt in Adela’s eyes, especially when she talked about her mother leaving everything to Adela’s brothers and nothing to her. Adela had given a little laugh when she had told her this, but Olivia saw how much it had hurt, not financially but emotionally.

When she had finished her story Adela was silent for a moment then gave a small laugh, ‘so it’s superfluous to say that I’m not a drinker.’

Olivia had given a weak smile in return still stunned at Adela’s story. She had thought her just another a rich tourist with too much time on her hands, taking pity on the little people, like a hobby or a distraction. It just went to show that you should never judge a book by its cover, or by other people you had been surrounded by most of your life. She was amazed that Adela had turned out as well as she had, that she had not been bitter and resentful of a life wasted. But she was the opposite, decent and kind, thoughtful and considerate of the feelings of others, concerned for their welfare and wanting to help people, like Olivia herself. She owed this woman, not just for sharing her own history but for everything she had done for her.

She began by saying, ‘I was born in Moldova.' Adela had read somewhere that Moldova was the human trafficking capital of the world but didn't interrupt Olivia. There was just my mother and me; she was only seventeen when she had me. She was a prostitute and became pregnant by one of her clients or maybe her pimp, it’s hard to say, the fate of many young girls in my country. Her pimp was an awful, horrible, cruel man, who took more than half of what she earned. She was working every day and well into the night just to make ends meet. Then she became pregnant with me, she tried to hide it from her pimp but eventually of course he found out, she was by now four months pregnant. He was furious and ordered her to get an abortion, he would arrange for it, but she would have to work off the cost since she’d been stupid enough as to get herself pregnant in the first place.

My mother pleaded with him, she was very religious, which is strange when you think about it because God seemed to have deserted her and her kind, but she did believe, perhaps because there was nothing else and God was someone to cling too. She always said that we all have to have faith in something or someone.’

She looked at Adela as she said this and Adela smiled. ‘Anyway, she felt very strongly that it was against God to rid herself of her child. She had also seen other women after they had been treated by the abortionist, some could never have children even if they’d wanted them, some even died, most were very ill afterwards. She was also too far gone for it to be safe but the pimp would have not of it. My mother told me the story only to this point but it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine that he probably beat her into submission, or at least tried too.

On the day the abortionist was due to call and perform his butchery she ran away, she walked for days into the countryside, weak and exhausted and ill, only coming out at night and eating what she could find in trash cans outside café’s and restaurants.

She tried to find work but no one wanted to hire a pregnant woman.

It came to the point where she made up her mind that she was going to die. It was night and she had found food in a back alleyway but was too weak even to eat. She fell asleep preparing never to wake up again. But she did wake to voices near by, she opened her eyes to see two figures, they seemed to her to be shrouded in mist. Of course she was just delirious. She told me she had said, ‘are you angels?’ The figures laughed out loud, later she said it was more like the cackle of witches but at that moment she said she had never heard such a lovely sound.

It turned out they were prostitutes and this was there patch, the alley was where they brought their clients. They took pity on my mother and took her home with them; she was about six months pregnant by now.

They lived in a tiny, run down establishment shared with other prostitutes and drug addicts as well as rats and cockroaches. But the women cared for her, brought her food and clothes. As strange as it seems she found kindness there amongst the whores and
junkies.

Then I was born and she called me Olivia, she was a huge fan of the movie Grease so she named me for Olivia Newton John,’ Adela smiled as Olivia continued.

She was very ill afterwards which is not surprising but her new friends continued to care for her until she regained her strength, which she never really did, not entirely, she was ill all the time I was with her.’ Olivia paused here and stared into the unlit fireplace obviously thinking about her mother.

She went on, ‘but eventually she had to work, her friends could not support her forever and she wanted to contribute to her upkeep.’

She paused again and Adela said, ‘so she went back to prostitution?’

Olivia nodded and Adela asked, ‘but what did she do with you whilst she was working?’

‘She kept me with her, she always put me in another room when she…when she was with the men.’ Olivia noticed Adela’s horror and said quickly, ‘but you see that was the thing, she did keep me, not many girls would have done that. She was a brave woman and she loved me. The other women let her work from home, because of the threat of her pimp finding her and her weakened state, they did not want her wandering the streets at night.’

Adela was thinking about what Olivia must have seen and heard whilst waiting for her mother to finish her “work.” She said, ‘did you have no other family or friends who could have taken care of her…of you.’

‘No, there was just us. At least as far as I know, my mother never talked about her parents or if she had any siblings. The other women were our family. Anyway, when I was about six years old I was in the other room as usual while mother…performed. She always told me to stay real quiet while she was working. She was with a new man, I knew because I could hear the men talking and I got to recognise the voices of her regular customers.

This day I was sitting on the floor playing when suddenly a rat ran over my bare feet, I tried to push it off but it bit me. I screamed then put my hand over my mouth but it was too late, the man had heard. The door opened and he stood there, he was tall and dark and very handsome, I remember wondering even then why he would need to pay a woman for sex.’

Adela’s eyes widened, Olivia smiled, ‘I know, I was six years old, but you have to remember that I had lived this life for those six years, with the other women and my mother with men all day and all night. I knew even at that age what was going on. But I learned later that it isn’t just the single, ugly, poor men that turned to prostitutes, but all kinds of men.

Anyway, the man came into the room followed by my mother who was fastening up her dress and looking terrified. But the man bent down and smiled kindly at me. He asked what was wrong and I pointed to my foot, he saw the bite and said, ‘oh, a rat hey?’

I nodded, too frightened to speak. He told me not to worry that he’d take care of me. He picked me up and took me into the other room my mother followed asking what he intended to do. He said he was going to bring me to a doctor.’

My mother told him she could not afford it and he told her not to worry that he would take care of it. My mother was suspicious she knew what some men were like, that they liked kids. But she was frightened that I would get an infection from the rat bite so she went along with it. He was true to his word and brought me to a doctor who gave me an injection and I was fine.

After that he came by regularly, not just for sex with my mother but to check on us. He brought food and clothing for us both, I had never had chocolate until he bought some home for me. He was very kind.’ Olivia took a deep breath as if bracing herself for what came next. ‘This went on for about two months until one day he came and said that he  was leaving, he was getting out of Latvia and was going to make his fortune in America. My mother was sad but she wished him well. Then he said that he had come to ask her to go with him. He would pay the fare and they would find a place. It would not be much at first but it would not be long he was sure before he made it rich and he would take care of her, of both of us.

My mother couldn’t believe it and neither could the other people in the house, her friends. They said it was too good to be true, but mother trusted him. She said, hadn’t he been coming here taking care of them for months now?

So a week later we left that place and made our way to the coast where we caught a boat and that it turn brought us to a truck that he said would take us to America, it would be a long, tiring journey but it would ultimately be worth it.