Welcome To England

She stood there. Hands by her side. Back straight. Trying to look taller than her five feet seven inches. She’d been told to impress.

A tall bearded man was circling her just a few feet away.

“Smile for fucks sake. Let’s see those teeth!”

She did as she was told, put on a false smile then opened her mouth wide.

“Take off your top. “

Like a trained dog she obeyed him in an instant. She threw her blouse to the ground.

“And your bra!”

She unhooked it and let it slide to the floor. She stood there topless. Her body started to shiver from the cold night air.

The bearded man turned away from her and spoke to a shadowy figure in the corner of the damp railway arch.

“Is she clean?”

“Well, she’s travelled in the back of a van for the past thirty six hours so I suppose she could do with a bit of a wash…”

“Don’t fuck about Carlos. Is she CLEAN? Any infections, diseases, marks, cuts, bruises?”

“She’s clean!”

“What is she?”

“Albanian.”

“How old?”

“Eighteen? Maybe twenty?”

“Has she been used much?”

“Just a few times on the way over, that’s all.”

The bearded man ran his hands over her shoulders, arms, waist and legs. He poked a finger into her stomach.

“She’s a bit skinny.”

Carlos appeared from the shadows. A short, stocky, balding man in a leather jacket who appeared to have no neck.

“That’s how everyone wants them these days. But she’s got great tits. Anyway, she’ll soon fatten up after a few takeaways.”

The bearded man stroked his chin.

“How much?”

“Five thousand.”

“Euros?”

Carlos laughed.

“Fuck off. Pounds!”

The bearded man shook his head.

“That’s expensive.”

“Bollocks, she’ll earn you that and more in six months. If not just sell her on. You’ll get three grand for her even if she’s damaged.”

The bearded man reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a bundle of fifty pound notes and handed them to Carlos.

“Okay. I’ll take her.”

Carlos took the money and smiled.

“She’s yours. I’ve got a few more coming in next month from Nigeria. Interested?”

“You know me Carlos, if the price is right and they’re in good nick them I’ll take them. Give me a call when they arrive.”

The two men shook hands and Carlos left.

The bearded man looked at the young girl in front of him.

“You speak English?”

Nervously the girl spoke.

“Yes, but not too good.”

“Okay. Listen to me carefully, I just bought you, so you belong to me now. Understand?”

The girl nodded.

“You call me boss. Okay?”

Again the girl nodded.

The bearded man slapped her hard across the face, causing her head to jerk violently to the right. She stumbled but quickly regained her position and stood up straight. The man leaned in close so that his face was only inches from hers.

“I said, you call me boss. Okay?”

“Yes boss.”

After thirty minutes the car stopped outside a terraced house in a quiet street.

The bearded man got out and opened her door. He clapped his hands.

“Come on, chop chop.”

Hurriedly she slid along the back seat and almost fell out of the car. The man had already started walking up the pathway of one of the houses. She closed the car door and ran quickly to catch him up.

The door was opened by a woman in her late forties with a complexion that gave away her sixty a day habit. Without saying a word the bearded man turned and walked back down the path. Leaving the girl unsure of what to do next.

The woman grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly into the house. She looked the girl up and down as though she was trying to guess her worth. She spoke in a broad London accent.

“You speak English?”

The girl nodded.

“A little.”

“Good. What’s your name?”

“Ardita. My name is Ardita.”

The woman put her hands on her hips.

“Where you from?”

“Berat. It’s a small town in Albania.”

The woman let out a sigh.

“To be honest I really don’t give a shit where you’re from. But for what it’s worth, welcome to fucking England.”