Trafficked: The Terrifying True Story of a British Girl Forced into the Sex Trade by Sophie Hayes

Author:Sophie Hayes [Sophie Hayes]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: David_James, Mobilism.org
ISBN: 9780007439546
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-03-17T00:54:49+00:00

Chapter 10

After a while I became quite good at identifying different nationalities – by physical features, such as the shape of their head, as well as the way they spoke Italian. Some of them were angry when I told them I could only go with Italians, and I didn’t dare say why. Luckily, few of them asked for reasons, and most would just swear at me and spin the wheels of their cars as they pulled out into the traffic again. But I didn’t always get it right, and after I told one man ‘No Moroccans’, despite his insistence that he was Italian, he came back a couple of nights later with his identity card!

Sometimes, though, I didn’t pay careful enough attention until it was almost too late and one night it was only as I was just about to get into a car that I noticed the guy looked Macedonian. When I asked him, he said he was Italian, but the music playing on his car stereo was definitely Eastern European and so I told him ‘No’. I was expecting him to swear at me, but my heart almost stopped beating when he leapt out of his car and went completely crazy, shouting at me and waving his hands in my face.

I knew I mustn’t let him see my fear, so I shouted back at him and told him he’d better go, because my boyfriend was Albanian. As I said the words, a car turned off the main road and pulled in beside his, and when we both looked towards it, I almost burst into tears of relief when I saw that it was Kas. Pretending not to know me, he leaned out of the window and asked ‘How much?’ and I edged away from the guy as I told him a price. ‘Okay. Andiamo,’ Kas said, opening the passenger-side door, and I jumped into his car and we sped away.

He dropped me off further down the road and told me to walk back to ‘my spot’ while he followed the man to make sure he didn’t return. I felt a rush of gratitude to him for being there when I needed someone, but at the same time I felt uneasy because I couldn’t help wondering how he’d just happened to turn up when he did. Was it chance that he’d been close by, or did he often watch me when I didn’t know he was there, to make sure I was doing what I was supposed to be doing?

It was just another uncertainty among all the doubts and insecurities I was living with. There seemed to be no one I could trust and nothing I could rely on – even Kas’s anger. It was impossible to guess at his reaction to anything. He seemed to have a split personality, although he was 10 different people rather than just two. Sometimes he’d drive past the petrol station and wave to me, or even open his car window and shout ‘I love you’, and one night he beeped his horn and threw me a rose.

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