Seema's Journey Ch. 04

"Jake!" Seema yelped, abruptly sitting up straight.

'Shit, is he there, are you ok chick? I'll call the police, ok!' There was rising panic in Carol's voice.

"No, no, no. He works at Davies', Jake does. He used to always wear a Steens Recruitment t-shirt. He obviously knows Mo'. He must have told Simran's uncle about us." Seema's words came out in a torrent as her mind clicked pieces of the puzzle together. "Me and Simran went out for the day on the Sunday, and I could have sworn blind that I saw a car that looked like one of Jake's. Following us, you know. And, and Jake had spied, he'd seen Sim leaving my flat. Fucking bastards, they~"

'Sweetheart,' Carol's voice was steady. 'Why would Simran's uncle go to these lengths?'

Seema recounted everything, talking at speed. Carol had to ask her to slow down. Seema felt elated at working everything out. There could be no doubt now that Simran still loved her; no doubt that Simran's perverted uncle was going out of his way to split them up. And Jake, that bastard, had started it all off.

'Eww! That is disgusting,' Carol cried after Seema described Mo''s panty fetish. 'It's his niece! What a pervert. Seema chick, you must have been scared witless.'

"I know right, plus," Seema cleared her throat, and paused. She felt her face flush. "I'm now locked in Simran's flat. Like an idiot, I left the key lying about and he must have seen it and taken it."

'Oh dear.' Carol was silent.

Seema anxiously chewed her bottom lip. "What do I do?"

'Shit, sweetheart. Umm...let me have a think, ok? What's the address and flat number?'

#

The sun was low in the sky and the light was beginning to dim. Seema didn't dare put any lights on for fear of rousing any suspicion. She imagined Simran's uncle somehow being aware of the slightest change occurring within the flat, an omnipotent pervert sat at his desk spying on his niece through spy cams placed about the apartment.

Carol had called several times, genuinely worried about Seema. The only thing Carol could suggest was calling the security guard, but Seema worried that she would get into trouble.

'Sweetheart,' Carol had chuckled. 'You're already in a bit of a pickle. Just be careful, ok? I'll keep thinking.'

For the last hour she had been ravenously hungry, but there was nothing to eat save a few tins of beans. Again, she didn't dare eat. What if he came by when she was half way through a tin? Besides which, baked beans made her want to vomit.

Seema paced about, then sat before pacing about some more. She peeked through a gap in the curtains. Simran's apartment was on the opposite side to the buildings entrance. She had never realised that before, not having any reason to check the orientation. The only way she would know of anyone approaching would be the double doors squeaking as they were pushed open, unless she kneeled at the door and kept a watchful eye through the keyhole.

A chill washed over her as she thought that maybe Mo' wouldn't come back that evening. After all, how many times could an old man cum in one day, Seema thought.

"Shit...come on Carol, think of something, please..."

Seema thought of Simran for the thousandth time. She had no idea where Simran was. She could be at her parents, but could they really keep her under lock and key, Seema wondered. Surely not. Simran would kick up a proper fuss. So, where was she? Was she safe?

A loud and familiar tone suddenly broke the silence of the apartment. Seema jumped, spinning around to where the sound was emanating. On one of Simran's tall chairs at the kitchen work surface cum island, a luminous and diffuse light flashed on and off in time with the shrill tone. It was a mobile phone.

Seema rushed over and picked up the large screened and very expensive looking device. The word 'Office' flashed up. It abruptly fell silent and the screen went black. Seema wandered over to the window and pulled the curtain to one side, allowing the dim light from outside to cast onto the mobile phone. She peered along its edges and found the power button.

The screen came to life and displayed a QWERTY keyboard, a little cursor flashing in a box ready for a password. Seema realised it must be Mo''s mobile. He had left it here and she figured he had just phoned the number to try and locate it.

"Fair assumption," Seema muttered to herself. She stared at the screen. Curiosity got the better of her, and she hazarded a guess at the password. With a growing chill she typed 's', then 'i', 'm', 'r', 'a' then 'n'. She felt a slight relief when the screen flashed 'Wrong pin - try again'. She retyped, this time with a capital 'S'. The phone beeped and came fully to life.

"Oh my gosh," whispered Seema as the colour drained from her cheeks. She swallowed hard.

For a moment she just stared. The homescreen wallpaper was a picture of Simran in a bikini, Seema guessed on holiday somewhere judging by the clear turquoise sky, blue sea and golden sand in the pictures background. Simran had a half smile on her face and her hair was slicked back after a swim, Seema figured. Seema swallowed hard at the lump in her throat.

She thumbed the apps icon, scrolled to the gallery icon and tapped it with a trembling finger. The icon flourished into a camera roll styled picture gallery. With a growing sense of shock, Seema scrolled through all the images, all of them pictures of Simran, most of them obviously taken without her knowledge, Seema surmised. Some were taken from a hidden vantage point, the backgrounds unfamiliar to Seema. In some, Simran was semi-naked with her back turned to the camera, in the middle of getting dressed by the looks of it.

"Oh shit," Seema whispered, bringing her hand up to her mouth. She stood frozen to the spot as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. She suddenly felt completely out of her depth. She tapped the screen, holding her finger down until a submenu appeared. She selected all the images, the thumbnails taking on a blue hue, and then tapped 'delete'. "Dirty fucking bastard."

She was about to throw the sleek mobile onto the floor, wanting to see it smash to little pieces, when she realised Mo' would eventually put two and two together and figure he had left it here. That could be her chance to get out.

Seema was still eager for more conclusive evidence. She tapped the messaging icon. She didn't have to scroll through in search of evidence. At the top of the list of text conversations was one with the word 'Jake Stevens' as its title. Seema tapped her finger on the screen, opening up the conversation.

It was all there, immediately confirming Seema's suspicions. Jake had indeed seen Seema and Simran kissing outside Seema's apartment, and he had followed them to the park. He had sent messages to Mo' telling him of this, knowing that he was Simran's uncle. Seema got the distinct impression that Jake was playing Mo'.

"You're both bastards," Seema said bitterly. She felt deeply hurt at some of the words used to describe her and Simran in the texts, but she kept reading. She sat down on a beanchair, closing that particular conversation. She flicked through more text messages exchanged with people and numbers she didn't recognise. It all seemed related to various business dealings. She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes. She felt like sleeping, but knew she needed to remain vigilant.

Twenty minutes later, her own loud and throaty snore woke her up with a start. She sat bolt upright and looked all around, cursing, suddenly worried that Mo' was stood behind her, sneering at her with his trousers around his ankles. She was still on her own though. She rubbed her eyes and cradled Mo''s 'phone in her hand. She opened up the conversation with Jake.

The double-doors at the end of the corridor outside the apartment squeaked, just as Seema read through the last message Mo' had sent to Jake. Seema jumped. She dashed through to the bathroom and threw the phone down near the shower. She closed the bathroom door behind her as she hurried on tiptoe towards the small coatrack near the apartment door. She pressed herself against the wall and drew the coats around her just as the key turned in the lock.

The door opened quickly, and then shut. Seema peeked through the thin coats on the rack just as the lights were flicked on. It was indeed Simran's uncle. Her pulse was racing so fast that she worried Mo' would hear the strong thub-thump of her heart. He picked up the receiver of Simran's telephone and dialled a number. After a few seconds of silence, the shrill ringtone of the Mo''s mobile sounded from within the bathroom. Simran's uncle grunted and slammed the receiver back down. He paced over towards the bathroom door, swung it open and went inside.

This was Seema's chance. In her plan, she figured on a slow creep towards the door. But with her adrenalin pumping, she dashed around the coats, grasped the door handle, opened the door and ran towards the double doors and freedom, not caring about any noises she made.

She stole a hasty glance back before exploding through the double doors. There was no sign that she had been seen. She ran full speed down the stairs, gripping the banister as she took two steps at a time until she reached the lobby. She punched the big green button on the wall next to the automatic doors, and ran out into the cool air.

As she sprinted towards the nearest bus stop, she felt a giddy elation at her daring escape, and at the realisation that she now knew where Simran was being 'kept'. She thanked that dirty, perverted bastard of an uncle for leaving his mobile phone there. All the information she needed was in the last message exchanged between Mo' and Jake.

#

It took an hour for Seema to get back home. On the way back, sat in the backseat of the bus, she called Carol and excitedly recounted her adventure.

'Wow chick, proper little detective!' Carol had chuckled. 'You're safe now?'

"Yeah, fine thanks. Umm, Carol~"

'Yes sweetheart, take tomorrow off, and the next if you need it. But please take care, ok?'

"Thanks Carol, and will do."

'Let me know how things go.'

"I will. Thanks Carol, you're the best. I owe you big-time. Bye."

'Bye chick.'

Seema was indebted to Carol. Knowing that she had a couple of days free, she could now think clearly. She knew where she needed to go, an hours train journey, she guessed; easy. Her GPS will take her to the house. But what then? Storm the place Rambo style? Seema chuckled. No.

As she approached her apartment, she had the urge to creep quietly like a burglar approaching their intended bounty. She unlocked her door and shut it quickly, flicking the light switch and looking about. It was empty, and she was safe. She turned the key and bolted the deadlock, and went straight for the kitchen.

Three slices of buttered wholegrain toast later, her hunger was sated. She turned the taps full on in her bath, looking forward to a long soak and a chance to formulate some sort of plan for getting Simran back. As she kicked her shoes off onto the low shelf of her coat rack, she noticed the red led flashing on her answer machine. Pre-occupied with making plans, she almost left it until after her bath. She dallied and then pressed the play button.

'Ten new messages'. Seema raised an eyebrow. 'Message one'.

A voice jumped out from the little speaker, a desperate torrent of words punctuated by wracking sobs. It was Simran.

#

'Seem, it's me Sim, Seem are you there? Seem! Whatever's been said to you, it's not true, please Seem~'

Simran couldn't control her voice; her sobs exploded from the little speaker. Seema pressed her hand to her mouth and knelt down to cradle the answer machine in her hands.

'~you've got to believe me...I'm sorry I didn't pick you up from work, I'm sorry, my uncle tricked me...Seem, I love you, please believe me...I love you, I want you...look, don't do a call back on this number...Seem, are you there?...'

Simran broke down and could only repeatedly whimper Seema's name. Then the line clicked as Simran put the 'phone down. The answer machine beeped. 'Message two'. Seema wiped her eyes and unceremoniously drew her sleeve across her nose.

'Seem, Seem...please pick up...' Simran sniffed and sobbed. 'Seem, please...I love you...don't believe anything else, please, Seem, pick up...'

There was a long pause. Simran wailed faintly.

'Seem, please...pick...up...I can't remember your mobile number...I haven't got my mobile...'

There was a click, and the machine beeped. 'Message three'.

'Seem, please, I love you...pick up babe please...' Beep. 'Message four.' 'Seem.......please...' 'Message five'. 'Seema, I love...please pick up'.

Seema cried through the rest of Simran's distraught messages, resting her head on the answer machine. Seema just wanted to call the number back and to hell with the consequences. But Simran had sounded adamant about not calling back.

"Sim," she sobbed to the silent machine. "I'm here, call now..."

#

Seema took the cordless 'phone with her into the bathroom. She stripped off, leaving her clothes in a pile on the floor, and stepped gratefully into the hot water. She glanced at the phone willing Simran to call.

Seema felt numb. Hearing Simran so desperately distraught had deeply disturbed her, especially as there was nothing she could do right the way. Seema wondered about making the train journey that very evening, but Simran may try to call again. If only there was a way she could let Simran know what her plan was. Not that she really had one, yet.

By the time Seema had bathed and dressed in her baggy night t-shirt, Simran still hadn't called. Seema checked her cordless phone for battery, suddenly worrying that it had drained completely, but it was fine. She filled a glass with water, switched the kitchen and lounge lights off and padded through to her bedroom, glass of water in one hand, phone in the other.

Simran's denim shorts and panties were still on the bedroom floor. Seema held back the tears as she flicked the light off and shuffled in the dark towards her bed, slipping under the duvet and hugging the phone to her chest.

#

It was gone midnight when the phone rang. Seema awoke from her light and fitful sleep. She pressed the answer button.

'Seem? Seem, are you there? Seem~'

"Oh Sim! Yes I'm~"

Simran burst into tears.

"Oh Sim, it's~"

'Seem, I love you, please believe me, don't believe~'

"Sim, it's ok, it's ok~"

'I'm sorry I didn't pick you up from work, so sorry, I love you, please~'

"Oh Sim, babe, slow down," Seema sat up in bed and wiped her eyes. "You've got to~"

'Seem, I was tricked, my fucking uncle, Seem I love~'

"You've got to listen to me babe, ok? I need to know if you're ok."

'No I'm not. I want you Seem, I'm sorry, I was tricked, I love you, gotta believe me, and no one else, please~'

"Sim, I love you too, and I want you too, and I believe you, ok? But I need to know you're ok."

'Yes...' Simran sobbed.

"Ok honey. You've got to listen. I know you were tricked, ok, and I know it's your uncle~"

'I hate him!' Simran sobbed.

"Listen babe, I'm coming to get you, I know where you are~"

Simran burst into heavier sobs of relief. It was all too much for Seema. She needed to stay calm, but she couldn't stop herself from weeping.

"~I'm coming tomorrow, ok. But listen, I'll need know when you're going to be in the house on your own."

'Ok.'

"Are you on your own now?" Seema glanced at her clock. The red LEDs shone 12.37am.

'Yeah I am. Seem I really miss you, I'm sorry about Monday~'

"Babe, it's ok, really. I miss you too. Is it your father that's keeping you there?"

'Yeah. I can't believe he would do this...my fucking uncle. My Dad just does whatever he says every fucking time...he's gone too far this time. Seem~'

"Sim, please listen. Have you got a pen and paper?"

'No, nothing. It's like I'm a prisoner~'

"Ok, listen babe, you need to call me tomorrow and tell me when you're alone. I'll give you my mobile number, and you'll need to remember it, ok? I'll be getting the first train that I can get."

Simran sniffed and repeated the numbers as Seema spoke her mobile number, over and over until Simran knew it.

'What if I forget it?' Simran sobbed.

"You won't my love~"

'Shit, my father's back, I need to go. Seem, I really love you, so much, please believe me~'

"Sim, I know, and I love you too my~"

Before she could finish her sentence, Simran had put the phone down. Seema laid back, a sense of relief warming her body. At least Simran knew that she still loved her.

#

Seema woke early, despite not sleeping too well. The first rays of sunlight were just starting to show, but they were struggling against dark and pregnant cloud. Nothing would damp Seema's enthusiasm though. She ate a hasty bowl of muesli washed down with some orange juice. Usually, Seema hated an empty fridge, but this morning, she didn't notice.

Her plan had come together early that morning, somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, though she had to admit there were still a few rather important unknown variables. She would book a room for two at a hotel. She had no idea when Simran's father would leave her alone in the house; it may not be until evening. So, a hotel was a good idea. Seema would be prepared for a long wait until Simran made the phone call; find a cafe or two and wait. But, what would happen then? How could she help Simran escape a locked house?

"Not much of a plan, is it?" Seema's shoulders sagged.

For some reason, the image of Mo' pleasuring himself with Simran's underwear invaded her mind. She glowered and pulled her shoulders back.

#

Seema had been lucky with train times. She hadn't bothered to book an advanced ticket, instead choosing to get to the station as early as possible. Just as she took the steps down to the correct platform, a train arrived. She took her thin raincoat off and made herself comfortable at the back of the carriage, which was only half full. She patted her coat pockets for the hundredth time that morning, making sure that her mobile, mobile charger and purse were safe.

She cradled her phone in her hands, her thumb a blur as she selected Simran's contact details. Simran's selfie filled the screen, sparkling eyes and bright smile filling Seema with happiness and resolve. The ticket collector momentarily disturbed her, but then she resumed her dreamy gaze upon Simran's picture.

Seema fell asleep to the gentle rocking and rhythmic tap-tap of the train tracks, until the announcement for her stop roused her from her dreams. She pulled her coat on, patted her pockets and made her way to an exit. She shuffled impatiently as the train crawled through a dark and damp tunnel and out the other side until it came to a stop at the one solitary platform.

As soon as the chime sounded, Seema opened the door and stepped down on to the platform. Even at the station, the wind-driven rain had an ozone laden salty tang from the nearby ocean. It was also much cooler. Seema zipped her raincoat up, and pulled the collar around her neck as she took the stairs towards the exit.

She knew from a quick web search that the station was approximately a mile away from the house where Simran was being kept. Before she had fallen asleep on the train, she had searched out two hotels that were roughly in between the house and the station. She had managed to book a twin room, check in any time from midday.

Seema made her way out from the station, bracing herself against the rain, which showed no sign of abating. The clouds were still dark and heavy, and as she walked along a busy street on a route mapped out on her phone, Seema couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. She quickened her pace.

#

Seema ordered her third coffee, this time with a slice of chocolate caramel cake. She took a bite and let the delightful taste suffuse her taste buds as she peered out of the large front window of the cafe. From her seat she had a good view of the curve of sandy beach and the rolling white topped waves of the grey sea. Seema thought it would look extremely picturesque on a nice day.