Georgina looked at the sea with longing. She wanted to walk into the static mass of cool blue. She wanted to feel the rough sand ease her itching skin and the cold water fill her ears, creeping over her hot scalp and easing her throbbing head. She longed to slip out of her skin and swim away and keep swimming forever. But, at the same time, she saw the shark nets and wondered what lay beneath. She shivered, turned her back on the sea and followed Chan.

Chan or the sharks? Not much of a choice.

105

Chan was in a hurry to get undercover. He’d taken an inordinate amount of risks lately. He knew if he wasn’t married to the boss’s daughter he’d be dead by now. As it was, he couldn’t rely on it much longer. He hadn’t seen his wife in days. He’d heard she had moved back into Daddy’s. She must be waiting to see the outcome – hedging her bets. Chan wasn’t surprised. There was always something distant about her – something he could never reach. But he had destroyed his chance of promotion within the Wo Shing Shing. He knew it, it had been written all over CK’s face.

He’d have to wait till the old man died. But that could be speeded up, especially with his new friends on board. He’d go to Negros as soon as his transportation turned up, but not to hide. He would use the time to build up his strength and his allies. He had made many in Club Sixty-Eight. So many rich old perverts were very grateful to Chan for having fulfilled their twisted dreams. They would not forget him. Plus, in case they contemplated it, he had a copy of each of the films to serve as a memory jogger.

When the time was right he’d launch a takeover of the Wo Shing Shing. His wife could divorce him and remarry. They were never more than a business arrangement anyway. And she had proved barren like the rest of them. He would take Georgina – not only would he need some company in his new home, he had taken a liking to her in Club Sixty-Eight. Even though she wasn’t willing, she was compliant, and that made a refreshing change from the usual greedy whores. And when he grew tired of her she could disappear as easily as the others. Perhaps she would even bear him a child …

They reached a little chalet not far from the sea. It was a single-storey basic holiday beach let: concrete floors, bare stone walls, barred windows. Chan unlocked the door and pushed Georgina inside. It was then that she turned and noticed Chan’s men – four dark suits. They didn’t come closer than nodding distance. Georgina saw them for a second and then they were gone.

Chan locked the door behind them and put the doorkey in his jacket pocket. He placed his briefcase onto the low coffee table directly in front of the door in the lounge area and threw his jacket over the back of the rattan sofa. The chalet hadn’t been properly aired for weeks and was unbearably hot. He began opening all the doors and windows.

‘Bathroom, bedroom, kitchen,’ he announced like an estate agent as he marched briskly through the small chalet, opening the rusted-up metal windows as he went.

Georgina stood just inside the front door, by the coffee table. As he re-emerged from the bedroom he caught her looking at his jacket.

‘Don’t even think of stepping outside, let alone trying to run away. I have armed men surrounding the chalet. They will shoot you and anyone else that I tell them to.’ He picked up a newly starched cellophane-wrapped packet of bedding from the breakfast counter and threw it at her. ‘Make the bed up, have a shower and get some sleep. I have to make some phone calls.’

Inside the bedroom was a small double bed and one scruffy wardrobe with its door hanging on by a rusty hinge. It was full of old metal hangers.

Georgina placed the packet of bedding down, sat heavily on the bed and pressed her bare feet onto the cold tile floor. She lay back and looked at the ceiling. A breeze trickled in and did its best to disperse the build-up of heat in the small room; it touched Georgina’s face as it passed and she turned her head to see where it was coming from. Through the bars of the window she could see the small side-street leading to the beach and hear a bike’s bells and the people chatting. She could smell the sea. Not a bad place to die, she thought. Then, with an enormous effort, she stood up and steadied herself against the wall. She flicked the sheets out of the packet and laid them loosely across the bed. She longed to lie down but she knew she wouldn’t be able to lie still – her body was shaking with a fever, her skin crawling. Before she slept she needed a shower to cool her. Moving silently past Chan, who was sitting at the lounge table shouting his instructions down the phone, she passed the kitchen and went into the bathroom.

She held her hand against the stone shower wall for support and stood for several minutes, head bowed, eyes closed, beneath the lukewarm water as the hard jet blasted her face and shoulders. Then she soaped her body. Lathering up the small white deposit of soap, she scrubbed her skin hard. After ten minutes she turned the water off and stood, eyes shut, feeling the water cool on her skin. Shivering, she reached for a towel. Chan was suddenly there, and he handed her one. She tried to cover herself.

‘Don’t bother. I’ve seen it before – remember?’ He watched her as she dried herself. ‘Poor baby.’ He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, nuzzling into her moist neck. ‘Are you in pain?’ Georgina was shaking so much that she was barely able to keep upright. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, licking the drops of water from her neck. ‘Daddy is going to look after you from now on. I’m getting you something. It’s on its way. You’ll feel better soon.’

Georgina said nothing. Clutching the towel to her, she waited for him to leave. He stood watching her for a few minutes, delighting in her humiliation, then he closed the door and went back to his phone calls.

Georgina leaned against the wall. Her naked body shook with anguish as she began to cry, silently. She pressed the towel to her mouth and bit into it so that she would not make a sound. She cried for the frustration of it all, and with so much sorrow. She wanted to smash the wall down with her fists, to kick and scream. She wanted someone to help her. She was sick and she was frightened. She wanted to be rescued. She wanted Johnny Mann.

106

She finished drying and went back past Chan to lie down. She felt his eyes follow her but he was busy on the phone. She crawled into bed. The cool cotton sheet soothed her sensitive skin and calmed her torn flesh where she’d been scratching. All day she lay on the bed, drifting in and out of sleep. She had fitful, horror-filled dreams when she slept, and crazed, pain-filled minutes when she awoke. All her senses were heightened. She listened, wide-eyed, to a beetle scuttle back and forth across the stone floor. She smelt the sea and the hot sand as it drifted in through the bars of the window. She watched the shadows dip and fall on the grey, pockmarked walls of the bare room, and she drifted in no man’s land.

After a particularly long doze she awoke to find that the room was dark and there were voices coming from the lounge. Chan was talking to several other men. They argued back and forth. The bedroom door opened and Chan came into the room. Georgina watched him. Just her eyes followed his movements. He didn’t look at her. He hadn’t come to see her. He had come to pace and to gather his thoughts. He smoked a cigarette. It lit up his face and reflected in his dark eyes. Georgina watched him in the gloom of the evening. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t notice her at all. She was just a ghost in the corner of the room, silent, observing. She thought about how it would feel to kill him.