Page 37 of Into the Fire

‘It’s really no bother.’

Emilia took a purposeful step towards the table, loosening her fingers on the stem as she did so.The glass slipped from her grasp,causing a yelp of panic to erupt from her lips.But it was too late, the wine glass falling to the floor, catapulting its inky red contents all over the fluffy white rug.

‘Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry …’ Emilia blurted, falling to her knees next to the broken glass.‘I’m such a klutz.And look, I’ve ruined your lovely rug …’

Horrified, Louisa was already on her feet, all thoughts of a top-up now forgotten.

‘Good heavens, there’s glass everywhere … ouch!’

Emilia had deliberately gripped the largest shard, a rich seam of blood now springing along the length of her index finger.She held it up to the light, as much for Louisa’s benefit as her own.

‘Don’t go injuring yourself on top of everything else,’ the flustered hostess bleated.‘Look, you get yourself cleaned up, I’ll deal with this …’

She cast an anguished look towards her precious rug, then hurried out to the kitchen.

‘Bathroom’s in the hall, you’ll find loo roll and plasters there,’ she added over her shoulder as she ran to the kitchen.

Suppressing a smile, Emilia followed her out, slipping into the bathroom, just as Louisa hurried back past her towards the lounge, clutching reams of kitchen roll and a carton of salt.No sooner had her hostess swept past, however, than Emilia emerged once more, shutting the bathroom door quietly behind her.Treading lightly over the creaky boards, she then made for a door diagonally opposite, teasing it open.Dusty concrete steps led down to the basement and Emilia didn’t hesitate, flicking the wall light on and closing the door quietly behind her, before disappearing from view.Hurrying down the stairs, she now found herself in a small room that was absolutely packed to thegunnels with junk.Her heart thundering in her chest, Emilia tugged her dad’s instructions from her pocket.This was it.This was her moment.

But where the hell was she supposed to begin?

Chapter 39

She had to return to the scene of the crime.Stalking away from Southampton Central, Helen had been at a loss as to how to proceed.She had let the missing women slip through her fingers, failed to interest the authorities in their plight and destroyed her decade-long friendship with Charlie.The pair had fought hand in glove for years now, pulling each other up off the canvas on too many occasions to count, but now Helen had driven a wedge between them, one which might prove irreparable.

There was no question of giving up, however, so Helen did the only thing she could do, racing back to the money transfer outlet for another confrontation with the owner.She knew that a full-frontal assault would yield little – it would only serve to antagonize him, especially when he knew she had no right to demand anything of him.She could perhaps try to bribe him for information – money was something that Helen did not lack – but would he really take the bait, when he presumably stood to make far more by continuing his ongoing relationship with the people traffickers and their enslaved workers?No, she would have to appeal to his conscience, hoping that his loyalty to his country, his kinsmen, would win out, especially as these poor women were clearly being exploited by local Southampton thugs.

But as Helen parked up on the shabby street, she realizedshe was too late.The metal security grille was down, the shop closed, despite the fact that it was only 3 p.m.Worse still, there was a piece of paper crudely taped to the aged aluminium shield announcing that the shop would be closed for ten days due to ‘Staff Training’.Helen stared at the notice, aghast.From her experience, those sort of placesnevershut, demand for their services apparently insatiable.First thing in the morning, last thing at night, there was always someone ready and willing to do your bidding.But not today.

What the hell was going on here?How embedded was this guy with the traffickers?To willingly give up ten days business suggested either that he had a lot to gain in playing ball or that he was too scared to say no.Either way, Helen knew that the ‘Staff Training’ was just a ruse to stop her or the police having any further access to the owner or his staff.But what did this say about the criminals that controlled Selima and the other women?Just how powerful were they, how wide was their reach?For the first time since the attack on Selima, Helen felt a little unnerved.What exactly was she dealing with here?

Stepping back, Helen craned to look up at the shabby terraced building.On the upper floors, the curtains were drawn, despite the fact that the sun was still shining.Was the owner hiding out up there, praying that if he did nothing, kept his head down, the strange woman would go away?That normal service could resume?Outraged at his callousness, Helen strode forwards, hammering on the metal grille with her fists.

‘Come down and face me,’ she commanded.‘Come down and face me, you coward …’

The noise echoed down the quiet street, eliciting little but a startled look from an elderly pensioner pushing her shopping trolley along the pavement.Ignoring her dark look, Helen peered up at the building, clocking the curtains twitch on thesecond floor.Was that him?Looking down at her, fretting, as he assessed his options?Enraged, Helen beat on the grille once again: harder, louder, faster.

‘Come down here, you …’

Her verbal barrage petered out as she vented all of her frustration, her anger, her desperation on the quivering barrier.She was hot, she was bothered, but still she didn’t relent, pounding repeatedly on the shutter as if signalling the end of days.Slowly, however, her energy deserted her, her violent efforts petering out as her body lost power, as she was overcome by another powerful wave of nausea.

Stepping away from the forbidding metal, Helen swayed slightly, suddenly seized by dizziness.For a moment she thought she was going to topple over, to fall down in a dead faint, but instead she turned sharply, bending over quickly before emptying her guts onto the pavement.Once, twice, three times she retched and then she was done, shocked and exhausted, with the sour taste of defeat in her mouth.For a moment, she remained there, bent double and reeling, before becoming aware of a looming presence next to her.Darting a wary look up, Helen saw the elderly shopper looking at her with contempt.

‘Drunk at this hour?It’s disgusting.’

The pensioner went on her way, muttering bitterly, full of scorn for modern life and the prevalence of drunks in the city centre.But Helen knew that drunkenness was not the problem here.No, she feared, sheknewit was something far worse.

Chapter 40

This was madness.Sheer, unmitigated madness.

Sweating, cursing, Emilia heaved a broken coffee table out of the way, desperately trying to navigate her way to the back wall.How long had she been down in the basement?Three minutes?Four even?More?Although Emilia could still hear Louisa’s urgent footsteps upstairs, hurrying back and forth from living room to kitchen, it could surely only be a matter of moments before her hostess realized something was wrong?How long did it take someone to slap a plaster on a cut after all?

This place was a nightmare, the basement a repository for all manner of junk.Tatty suitcases, boxes of files, an old medical kit, squash rackets, even an electric guitar littered the claustrophobic space, rendering progress painfully slow.How on earth could she wade through all this detritus?And was she wasting her time anyway?Pushing these unhelpful thoughts aside, Emilia re-doubled her efforts, sliding a bulky bookcase out of her way.She was making for the far-left hand corner as per her father’s instructions, but her spirits sank as the removal of the bookcase revealed a large oak dresser behind.Jesus Christ, how many cats had Emilia kicked to deserve this?

Swearing viciously, she positioned her shoulder against the side of the heavy dresser.Gritting her teeth, she pushed withall her might.Slowly the dresser started to slide to the right, before coming to an abrupt halt, Emilia banging her head on the pointed corner and crying out in pain.

‘Jesus, effing …’

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