Seema's Journey Ch. 04

"Where are you?" Seema whispered. She looked around the small room. Everything was as it should be, nothing had been hastily removed, and no drawers left hanging open after a rushed pack. The doors to the little walk in wardrobe were shut. Seema stood up and stepped over to it, opening the slatted doors to look inside. Nothing seemed amiss. She noticed a few dresses that she could imagine Simran looking incredibly sexy in, one in particular, a blue knee-length shoulder less dress, felt so soft to the touch. Seema sighed morosely, fighting the tears, and sat back down heavily on the bed.

She spotted a pretty linen covered book on Simran's bedside table and picked it up. After flicking through a few pages, she realised it was Simran's diary. Seema closed it quickly and placed it back on the table. She resisted the temptation to read it; for a while.

As her tear-blurred gaze kept lingering on the linen covered book, Seema realised that Simran's diary may contain some clues that could answer Seema's questions. Seema pushed the guilt to the back of her mind and picked the book up, turning to the last page. It was blank, as were the preceding ten. She found Simran's last entry.

'Work hard today. But Seeing Seem tonight. Yay! Shall I tell her? Game of squash and then swim. Got to get ready!'

The entry was dated the Friday before, just a few days ago. Seema turned to the previous page which had three short entries for three days. Seema sobbed and laughed as she read them.

'Tuesday - Counting down the days to Friday. I've written 3 letters to Seem. I've scrunched all of them up. I feel stupid. Keep thinking that maybe Seem feels the same way about me, but not sure. Help!'

'Wednesday - Sent a few texts to Seem. With kisses. And Seem sent kisses back!!!!!!!! Work was good today. May be getting a raise soon! Want to buy Seem something. Also want to suggest that we go out for a meal after gym. Would she think I'm weird?'

'Thursday - Work weird today. Lots of people off either sick or off on courses. Am def getting a raise! YES! Maybe sort my car out. Really want to tell Seem that I love her. I'm upset. What if she tells me to bugger off? Can't sleep. It's 3am. I love you Seem.' There was a small blur on the last word of the entry, as if a droplet of moisture had fallen to the page causing the ink to run.

Seema held the diary to her chest. She tried to figure what this all meant. Surely, she thought, Simran's feelings couldn't have changed so rapidly? Seema flicked through more pages from Simran's diary, choosing pages at random. On every page she chose, even the first page dated over two months ago, there were the words 'Seem' and 'love'. Seema looked at the last entry on the second page. Her eyes opened wide as she read.

'Saturday - This is embarrassing. Spent the night at Seem's last night. She's still upset about breakup with Jake. Gave her lots of hugs.... We had our gym and swim (wow she looks fab in a swimsuit) and then a take-out and a film. Seem wearing leggings. Yummy! Couldn't keep my eyes off her. Now it's Saturday eve. I've just done something naughty whilst thinking of Seem. I think I'll sleep well tonight!!!! Forget that bastard Kirran! I wish Seem would forget Jake.'

Seema closed her eyes, filling her mind with the memories of Simran's wet sex against her lips and tongue. Her eyes fell back to the diary. She flicked through more pages as she laid her head on Simran's pillow, drawing her legs up on to the bed. So many entries alluded to Simran's love for her. Seema considered looking for earlier diaries, but she suddenly felt guilty. She snapped the diary shut and placed it back on the bedside table, only to pick it up again. Seema felt so much happier now she had read some of the entries. Surely, thought Seema, this means she still loves me.

She found more incredibly candid entries pertaining to self-pleasuring. Seema couldn't stop herself from reading despite the guilt; she was mesmerized, and she was beginning to find Simran's entries extremely erotic. Having read all about Simran's feelings, Seema had felt a huge amount of relief wash over her. After all, a diary is a window to the soul, Seema thought; everything I needed to know is right here.

"I love you too Sim," Seema whispered, aware that she had become moist and slippery down below. She closed her eyes and yearned to feel Simran next her.

She nuzzled into the pillow and frowned as she considered the situation. She couldn't believe that Simran had had second thoughts. Like Seema's feelings, Simran's had developed over time, and that had to mean something. Seema's thoughts turned to Simran's uncle Mo'.

"There's the problem," Seema whispered to herself, instantly forgetting the wetness between her legs. But, where the heck was Simran? At her parents?

Seema thought quickly. She jumped off the bed and walked through to the lounge. She hoped there would be a book of numbers and addresses next to Simran's old fashioned telephone. She tutted when she found that there wasn't. She stalked about until with a silent jump for joy she found, on the polished wood of the kitchen island, a leather bound notebook with 'Telephone numbers and Addresses' written in gold-leaf on its cover.

She grabbed it and opened it. On the inside cover, written large were Seema's landline and mobile numbers, a little heart drawn next to them. Seema staved the tears and flicked through until she came upon a number underneath an entry - 'Mum and Dad'. Seema's heart started beating hard. She picked up Simran's telephone and started to dial. "Uh uh," she murmured, shaking her head. She cut the line and redialled, this time using the number withheld prefix.

'Hello?' A heavily accented voice answered. Seema immediately recognised it as Simran's mother's voice.

"Hi, I wonder if I could speak to Simran, please?"

'Oh...' There was a pause and some whispering in the background. 'Yes, hello, she's not here.'

"Do you know where~"

'She's not here, goodbye.' Click.

Seema stared at the receiver, a mixture of anger and surprise. She put the receiver down.

"What the hell is going on?" Seema whispered. She was becoming increasingly suspicious, and frustrated. She flicked a glance at the answering machine next to the telephone, but the red led readout shone a depressing zero. Her frustration became more pronounced as she realised that she really didn't know what to do next.

She thought of staying in Simran's flat for the night, but wondered what good that would do. Simran's bed had not been slept in and Seema couldn't imagine she would be back tonight.

"Wait a bloody minute," she said, twirling back around towards the answer machine. She dashed forwards and pressed the play button.

'No new messages'.

"I must've left loads of messages...." Seema whispered. She looked in her pockets for her mobile, finding Simran's key first. She threw down the key next to the answering machine before retrieving her mobile. She thumbed through her call logs from the day Simran failed to show up after work. She counted twenty calls made on the Monday and another seven from that morning. "See! I'm not imagining it! Someone's been here. Oh, bloody hell Sim, what's going on?"

From out in the corridor beyond Simran's door, Seema heard the double doors being pushed open. She dashed to the door and peered through the keyhole, hoping it may be Simran, then worrying that it could be the security guard. It certainly wasn't Simran or the guard, but she couldn't see who it was. With a sharp intake of breath, Seema realised that they were approaching Simran's door.

Panic took hold of Seema and she dashed through on tip toe to the bedroom. She lingered by the door and listened. With a jolt she heard a key being inserted and turned. Her face flushed with panic and on auto-pilot she dived toward Simran's built in wardrobe, relieved there was enough space for her to hide and close the loose slatted door, just as the door to the apartment closed. Seema tensed and forced herself to breathe slowly as she heard the key being turned to lock the apartment door.

Footsteps sounded on the laminate floor, a tap was turned on, and then there was silence. Seema heard the light switch being flicked and the answer machine announcing no new messages. She slowly and quietly moved Simran's pretty blue dress to one side, allowing her a view of the bed through the loose slats of the louvre doors on the wardrobe.

The footsteps sounded again, this time coming towards the bedroom. Seema held her breath and suddenly realised how tiring it was to keep dead still. The light switch was flicked and the bedroom was filled with bright light from the ceiling. The visitor strode in to the bedroom and sat on the bed.

Seema stifled a whimper and held her breath. It was Simran's uncle Mo'. As she kept as still as possible, he dragged a wicker basket from the other side of the bedside table until it was in front of him. He threw open the wicker lid and sighed appreciatively as he peered inside the basket. With his eyes closed and a dirty grin splitting his mouth, he dipped his hand in to rummage around. He slowly pulled his hand out. Hanging off the end of his fingers were two pairs of lacy panties. He held them to his nose and inhaled, groaning in pleasure.

He stood up and undid his belt. Seema began to feel nauseous as she realised what he was about to do. His blue pin-striped suit trousers fell around his ankles. He kicked his shoes off and took off his underpants, exposing his gnarled erection. He took one pair of knickers and examined them, stretching the gusset and holding it to the light. He pressed it to his nose, and laughed softly.

"Mmm, smelly girl, hmm?"

He examined the other pair before stretching it over his erect penis. He flopped down on the bed, pressing Simran's gusset to his nose as he began furiously masturbating with the other pair of knickers still stretched over his penis. Seema retched silently as she watched, panic stricken. He bucked and grunted as he sniffed Simran's gusset before dipping it into his mouth and noisily sucking.

Seema turned away and closed her eyes, disgusted, scared and all too aware of the irony. To the background sounds of his groans and grunts, Seema once again tried to make sense of the situation. She had no doubt that Mo' had everything to do with Simran's disappearance. The fact that Simran's mother had cut the phone call short meant that she was in on it too. Or did it? What was going on? Why was Simran's uncle here, using her underwear for perverted self-gratification?

Seema grimaced and scrunched her eyes shut as Mo' issued a loud groan. Seema peered reluctantly through the slats. He lay still on the bed, his stomach rising and falling as he calmed from his climax. His penis was obscured by Simran's panties laying limply over it. His face too was covered by the other pair still partially in his mouth. His breathing calmed and slowed until a minute later, when he started snoring.

#

Seema's back and thighs had a burning ache and she had long lost the feeling in her left buttock. She had stood stock still at an awkward angle for what seemed like a very long time. She dared not move. Simran's uncle had steadily snored for the duration but she didn't feel confident of making a quiet escape.

He jolted from his après cum snooze and sat bolt upright. He casually threw Simran's knickers back in the wicker basket and stood upright, yawning as he kicked the basket back against the wall. He padded out of the bedroom as he loosened his tie and undid his top button on his shirt. Seema heard a door being opened, and then the shower hissing and splashing into life.

She shifted her position inside Simran's wardrobe, grimacing as numbness turned to painful pins and needles. She curled and uncurled her toes and rubbed her left buttock, trying to coax the feeling back. Simran's uncle started to sing a tuneless ditty in the shower.

Seema saw her chance. She opened the door of the wardrobe and crept out. She was about to step over his trousers and underpants lying in a pile on the floor when she spotted something poking out from one of the trouser pockets. It was purple in colour and had smooth rounded edges that seemed familiar. She crouched to look closer, before quickly pulling it out.

It was Simran's mobile 'phone. Seema nearly fell backwards as she was gripped with shock and buffeted with sudden realisation. She pressed the small power button but the low battery symbol flashed twice before the screen blacked out again. She quickly rifled through the other pockets but could only find a handkerchief. She grimaced and jerked her hand away as if she had touched something laced with disease.

She peered out through the bedroom door. Draped over the back of a bean chair was his suit jacket. Seema had an urge to rifle through the pockets, but she was too scared. She needed to get out quickly. She was about to scurry to the apartment door and to her freedom when she heard the shower shutting off and the strangled squeak of the cubicle door as it was pushed open.

"Shit," she whispered. She realised she wouldn't have time to make it through a locked door without being seen or heard. She slipped Simran's mobile back in the trouser pocket, turned and hastily hid herself again in Simran's wardrobe, hoping that Mo' didn't intend to stay long.

Uncle Mo' padded out from the bathroom. His wet footsteps were heading for the bedroom until Seema heard the ringtone of a mobile. Seema listened intently as he answered the call.

"Yes, hello....what.......well, what good will it do her......you think it was this Seema girl who rang~"

Seema froze.

"~well so what, you know...........I don't care if Simran is upset......no.......no.....it is not right........it is just a phase she is going through.........I don't care if she is upset, this is for her own good, is it not?.....yes.......you have to be strong.............."

Simran's uncle moved away from the bedroom and frustratingly out of earshot. Seema could not quite make out the rest of the conversation. She thought things through. She figured that it was Simran's mother or father who had phoned Mo'. They were in on it, thought Seema, whatever 'it' was. And, by the sound of it, Simran was still in love with Seema. Despite everything, Seema managed a smile at the thought of her girl still loving her. Though, Seema's smile faded at the thought of her girl being upset.

Seema was brought out of her reverie at the sound of Mo' returning to the bedroom. He was naked and Seema couldn't help but stare at his limp member and low slung, wrinkled double slingshot sack. She swallowed hard on her nausea and turned away.

Simran's uncle dressed quickly in his blue pin stripe suit trousers and white shirt. He flicked the light off and walked towards the apartment door. Seema heard a puzzled retort, a pause and then the lounge light being flicked off. The apartment door was unlocked, opened, closed and locked again.

From within the soft and deadened silence of Simran's wardrobe, Seema heard the faint sound of footsteps moving away and then the double doors opening and closing in the corridor outside the flat. Seema decided to wait.

Satisfied that she was on her own again, she quietly crept out of the wardrobe and into the bedroom. She peeped cautiously around the bedroom door. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly in relief. As her pulse slowed, she thought things through. The only conclusion that she could come to was that Simran was under lock and key somewhere. For a moment, Seema thought it ridiculous, but it was the only theory that made sense. She felt a gut wrenching pang for Simran.

"Oh Sim, my babe, I will find you, despite what your perv uncle is trying to do." Seema shot a glance towards the bed and the wicker basket. "The dirty bastard."

She crept towards the front door and the table with the telephone and answering machine on it. She tensed suddenly, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Oh...shit." She stared at the spot where she had put Simran's spare key. It had disappeared. She searched desperately, rummaging through the shallow drawer of the table, looking behind the telephone, crouching down to search under the table and blindly run her fingers along the skirting. Simran's uncle must have seen it, and taken it. It had gone, and as she tried the door, she realised she was locked in.

#

"Stupid dummy!" Seema cursed dejectedly as she slumped into a bean chair. She growled in frustration as she massaged her brow. "Now what do I do?"

She remained in the comfy chair for a good ten minutes, feeling totally helpless and wishing that she had made good her escape when she had had the chance. Then again, she realised, she wouldn't have found Simran's mobile phone in Mo's trouser pocket, or overheard his conversation with Simran's mother.

Simran's dirty old uncle must have sent the text asking Seema to meet at Barney's. He must have taken the 'phone off Simran yesterday afternoon and kept it. Bastard, thought Seema. That, she figured, explained why none of her text messages were answered, and why the 'phone had been switched off.

In addition to this, he had obviously developed a sick fascination for his niece. Seema grimaced; the image of him lying on her bed, masturbating and sniffing Simran's underwear would unfortunately be difficult to wipe from memory. Is he doing this because he wants her? How long has he had this fascination? Seema felt nauseous again.

From what she gleaned listening to his telephone conversation, Seema felt she could picture Simran, lonely and beside herself with anger and frustration, wanting to be with her love. Seema closed her eyes as they welled up.

She turned her attention back to her immediate problem. She was locked in. She didn't know how to pick a lock and didn't know anyone who could pick a lock. She walked into the kitchen area and rifled through the drawers, looked in tubs, anywhere where Simran may keep another spare key. She drew a blank.

She shivered at the thought of having to wait until Simran's uncle returned, waiting for a chance to escape as he enjoyed the dirty underwear from Simran's wicker laundry basket. She checked the time on her mobile. Four o'clock. She glanced again at the screen and noticed the envelope icon. She thumbed it. It was a text from Carol, received twenty minutes before.

Seema had a cold flush as she thanked her stars that she had put her mobile on silent. Dirty Mo' would have heard the beep if she hadn't have. She read the text. Carol was asking how she felt. She sent a hastily typed text back, asking when would be convenient to call and telling Carol that she was in a bit of a predicament.

#

Ten minutes later, Seema's mobile chirped into life. It was Carol.

'Hiya chick. How are you feeling?'

"Oh Carol, am I glad to hear your voice. Are you ok to talk?"

'Oh yes, fine. I've been doing some digging around,' Carol said conspiratorially.

"Oh," Seema said, pushing her current situation to the back of her mind. She was suddenly interested.

'Hmm, yeah. I think I know Simran's uncle. I used to work for him, though it was a while back. I've always wondered why Simran looked kind of familiar to me.'

"Really?"

'Yeah. He's the MD at Davies', the recruitment people.'

Seema frowned as her mind whirred. Myriad memories were snaking about seemingly at random, until several began to converge.

"Davies' Recruitment?" Seema repeated.

'Yeah. Simran's uncle~"

"Mo'?" Seema interjected.

'Yeah, that's it. He's a real dodgy type though. Whenever the business got into choppy waters, he used to jump through the loop holes and end up changing the business name.'

"Changed it to Steens?"

'Umm, yes, I think that was one of the~'

The snaking memories suddenly converged accompanied by a bright flash of realisation.