The Trafficked

74

Amy lifted the wet necklace from the sink. She pulled either end of it as hard as she could. She put one foot on one end and stretched it. She wanted it to be perfect. Amy had woven many beads into it, the biggest, Suzanne’s favourite colour-red-was right in the centre.

Suzanne was snoring heavily now. She had drunk the entire bottle of gin. Amy went back into the bathroom to retrieve her necklace. She dried it off a little and then knelt beside Suzanne. Suzanne’s hair was still caught up at the top of her head where Amy had arranged it, out of the way. Amy fed the necklace carefully around Suzanne’s neck and she positioned the big red bead right at the front. She pulled the ends to the front and tied them over the knot, as tightly and as carefully as she could. Amy went to the radiator, reached down the side and turned it up full, the way that Lenny had shown her she must do if she was cold. But Amy wasn’t cold.

She washed her face, took off all the makeup and changed into her school uniform. She collected up her belongings and put them into her bag, neatly and quietly, and then she slipped the brace into her mouth and gave a few sucks of it to position it right. She smiled to herself-she liked its cold raw plastic taste-it was a welcome familiar sensation. It made her feel like she was halfway home. She took the keys and the phone from Suzanne’s handbag and tiptoed out, gently closing the door behind her.