Read Online Trafficked: The Terrifying True Story of a British Girl Forced into the Sex Trade by Sophie Hayes - Free Book Online Page B

in the morning. We just had to get through the night and he’d have got over whatever had upset him. And if he hadn’t, I’d simply tell him, ‘I’m not going to do it. I thought you knew me. If you did, you’d know I would never do that in a million years. I’m sorry about the money you owe, but I can’t helpyou in that way.’ Then I’d make some excuse to cut short my visit and go home – to the ‘pathetic’ job I enjoyed, the family I loved and my ‘normal’ life.
    I wrapped my arms across my chest and hugged myself tightly, trying to control the violent shaking of my body, and Kas pulled out a chair and sat down opposite me at the table. Thank God , I thought. He’s calming down at last. Now he’ll tell me what’s wrong and that he’s sorry. Whatever I do, I mustn’t antagonise him. Just think, Sophie. Think before you speak .
    He began to talk in a quieter voice, telling me what had happened as though he was discussing an ordinary, everyday event. But I’d never taken drugs and I didn’t think I knew anyone who had, so to me it sounded as though he was describing a scene from a film.
    â€˜I was smuggling cocaine to Holland,’ he said. ‘And when I realised the police were following me, I threw it out of the car. Now the dealer wants the money he lost.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s just the way it goes. The coke’s gone and Mario wants his cash. That’s why he wanted to see you the other day – to make sure you’d be able to earn the money for me.’
    â€˜ What? Oh my God!’ I stared at him, anxious for a moment that I was going to be sick, and then I pressed my forehead on to the cool surface of the table and tried to process the disconnected jumble of my thoughts.
    â€˜So, as you can see, I have no alternative.’ Kas leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms in the air above hishead and yawned. ‘There’s no other way for me to raise the money. I could use other girls, but I wouldn’t be able to trust them the way I know I can trust you. I know you’ll be loyal to me and that you would never do anything to disrespect me.’
    â€˜We can work something out,’ I told him, lifting my head from the table and wiping my face with the back of my hand. ‘I’m sure that if we think about this together, we can …’
    â€˜I know you won’t disrespect me,’ he said, looking past me and out of the window. ‘Because if you did, if you even thought about it, I would find out and there would be consequences.’
    I knew people didn’t say things like that in real life, but however much I tried to tell myself it was all some elaborately cruel joke, I knew in my heart that he meant every word and that I’d made a huge and potentially fatal error when I’d allowed myself to break my golden rule and trust him. Already emotionally exhausted and bewildered, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to be at home, where my mother would put her arms around me and tell me ‘It’ll be all right, love’. Instead, though, I was alone in a foreign country with a man who professed to love me but who was asking me to do something no one in their right mind would ever ask anyone to do.
    I began to plead with him: ‘Please. Please don’t make me do this! There must be some other way for you to repay the money. I can’t do what you’re suggesting. Please, Kas.’ I wasstill pleading with him when, without any warning, he reached out his hand and grabbed me by the hair, forcing my head backwards so that I was looking up into his face as he shouted, ‘It isn’t a suggestion, woman. How stupid are you? Don’t you understand? You’ve grown up in a world full of nice things, where you’ve never had to face the cold reality of many people’s lives.’ He sneered as he said the word ‘nice’,