The Trafficked

54

Reese focused on them from far away. He could tell when people were new to the Philippines. They smelt different. Their clothes didn’t have the smell of dust and damp. He recognised the woman from the pool, hard to forget. It had been bugging him for the last few hours. He had hoped their paths might cross again. He hardly saw western women any more. Becky’s blonde hair made him nostalgic for home. She looked like a surfer girl. His eyes focused on her and he nudged Terry, who was, as ever, on his laptop.

‘There’s that woman I told you about-the one by the pool. I’m going to introduce myself. Maybe I can interest them in a guided tour or some such crap. Maybe they want to stay in one of the houses?’

Terry looked up from his work. ‘They’re just a young couple. Do you think we need any hassle right now? We have enough going on with the Teacher and…’

‘Why isn’t he out here now? He spends his whole time locked away in that villa. What does he do, just sit there and drink beer and stare at the walls?’

‘He says he’ll come and find us in a minute.’

‘He can take all the time he wants-miserable bastard.’

Becky looked up and saw Reese staring at her.

‘Think that’s him,’ she whispered, whilst pretending to whisper something nice in Mann’s ear. ‘At one o’clock, he’s at a bar table with another man. He’s seen me.’

‘He hasn’t seen me,’ Mann said under his breath, and grinned. ‘He can’t take his eyes off you.’

‘Let’s mill around, take our time to work the street. Let him get a good look at you. Let’s look in doorways, pretend to shop.’

He steered Becky towards the T-shirt souvenir shop. She thumbed through the racks of innuendoes and slogans, mainly referring to a diver’s prowess in the sack, and looked over to see Reese grinning at her.

‘It’s definitely him,’ she said to Mann, who was looking through a rack of leather-thonged shark’s-tooth necklaces.

Mann looked over at Reese and Terry. They were sitting at a bar on the right side of the beach bar, outside a small hotel. He could see that Reese was still watching Becky’s every move.

‘Let’s head for the bar opposite them-and be nice, let him down gently-he obviously likes you.’ Mann held up a T-shirt in front of his face as he grinned at Becky. They made their way across and perched on stools at the end of the small bar just ten foot away.

Terry looked up and followed Reese’s gaze across the lane to Mann and Becky.

‘Stop leching after every piece of ass, especially some white woman’s who’s with her big boyfriend. The last thing we want is trouble.’ Terry tapped away on his keyboard.

‘No trouble.’ Reese picked up his drink and sauntered over. Terry stayed where he was.

‘Evening, folks. Just off the boat?’

Becky giggled.

‘How can you tell? We were just about to order. Can I get you a drink?’ asked Mann.

Reese kept his eyes on Becky as Mann was speaking. Becky smiled coyly back.

‘Sure can.’

‘What about your mate over there? Would he like to join us?’

‘Terry!’ Reese called over to him. Terry looked up and Reese beckoned him over. He shut his laptop and sauntered across.

‘Hope my friend’s not bothering you.’ Terry rolled his eyes Reese’s way. ‘What brings you two here?’

‘We are on honeymoon, actually. This is my wife, Lucy, and I’m John.’

Reese let out a whoop, did a panting-dog imitation and then wet his lips as he winked at Mann. ‘Lucky bloke. Honeymoon, huh? I could do with one of those. Tell me, young lady-is he everything he promised he would be?’

Becky giggled. ‘I am a very satisfied customer, thanks for asking.’

Reese burst out laughing.

‘Good answer,’ Terry said, grinning as he sat down on the stool next to Mann.

‘And what about you gents? What brings you here?’ asked Mann.

‘A bit of property acquisition,’ answered Reese before Terry could respond. ‘Show them the pictures, Terry. Terry has lots of places to look at. He’s downloaded photos of houses, I’m sure John here would love to see them, wouldn’t you?’

‘Love to.’

Terry wasn’t best pleased with Reese’s ruse to chat up Becky unhindered, but he guessed it wouldn’t do any harm. He turned his laptop towards Mann and showed him some of the beach-front properties available. There were several on the screen.

‘How do you scroll down?’ asked Mann as the waiter arrived with their drinks.

Before they had time to drink them, Terry got a text. He read it, knocked back his whisky and got off the stool.

‘Drink up, Reese, we’re gone.’ He took his laptop back from Mann, closed it and tucked it under his arm. ‘Let’s leave these nice folks to enjoy the evening. Reese…let’s go.’

‘Huh?’ Reese was extremely disgruntled at having his flirting interrupted, just when he was about to try his hand on Becky’s leg, although he would only have done it the once. Becky was fast losing the smile cemented to her face.

Reese took her hand and kissed it. ‘Till we meet again…’ He drank up and followed Terry, who was already several feet away. When they were out of earshot he hissed:

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

‘I just got a text. It’s the Teach. We have to go. He wants out now. He’s not looking for excuses, move your ass.’

‘Why? Thought he was on the way here?’

‘Not now he isn’t.’

‘What the fuck is the matter with him? He was supposed to be on the way to come and find us for a beer.’

‘He was, apparently; he turned back for some reason. Fuck knows! He’s shitting himself about something. He says we have to leave now’