Chapter 7

The next morning I awoke early, the Caribbean sun just starting to peek over the tops of the palm trees that surrounded the main house where I now lived spending my time looking after the medical needs of my boss, Mr Foster, as well as those others who worked for him on this tiny privately owned and very secure island. Rolling out of the arms that embraced my naked body, I sat up and looked down at Mr Foster's sleeping form; seeing him there like that, it was hard to remember that he was a vicious criminal who's empire encompassed everything from drug dealing to prostitution, from burglary to kiddie porn. But that was the truth and, for better or worse, it was my lot too ever since I had helped him to escape from jail during one of his regular sessions on the dialysis machine that kept him alive. Of course, the almost obscene amount of money he had paid me for that assistance, plus what he was paying me to remain here and to keep him alive by operating his own personal kidney machine almost made up for the fact that I could now never return home to Britain... or anywhere else that just happened to have an extradition treaty with Britain.

Pulling on a bright green one piece bathing suit, I quietly slid open the French windows and stepped out into the already warm, humid air. Pausing to stretch, I contemplated which way round the atoll I should walk this morning - clockwise or anti-clockwise? It just showed how slow and regular life here was that this choice might well prove to be the most important decision I made this day. But whichever way I went, it wouldn't take me long to get back to my starting point here at the house that I shared with my boss and his two senior advisors, Mr Cunningham and Mr Haga. At the far end of the isle was the compound where the all male guards, servants and maintenance staff lived and, nestled between the two was another building that was the living quarters for the girls, each young and beautiful, hired from brothels on the mainland who were here on month long contracts to service the sexual needs of the confined and frustrated men-folk.

Setting off towards the beach that encircled the island, I walked through the fine, powdery sand, glancing out at the azure coloured water and the waves that broke on the coral reef the ringed the atoll. I glanced up and saw the seabirds circling, seeking the fish that sustained them and I envied their ability to go where they liked when they liked which was an ability that I had forfeited when I took Mr Foster's coin. Pushing that rather depressing thought to the back of my mind, I turned south, into the wind, and continued my stroll.

The sound of running feet distracted me and I glanced up to see that one of the girls was sprinting towards me, her bare breasts jiggling and swaying rhythmically in time with her long strides. "Nurse Smith! Nurse Smith!" she called urgently. "Quickly you come now please! Hurry!"

"Calm down and tell me what's wrong," I replied trying to find out some details of the medical emergency I was facing so that I could collect the correct gear before facing my patient.

"It Jasmine - she been beaten up pretty bad! She at her room now."

My heart sank - not another beating! Most of the men here were criminals, many of them with a history of violence, and they saw nothing wrong with attacking the girls if they wanted to. The women had complained to me before and I'd taken the matter up with Mr Foster who, while pretending to be sympathetic, had done nothing beyond saying that being beaten or raped was just one of the hazards which came with a prostitute's job and they would just have to face up and to accept it. This reaction had not helped my relationship with the women, most of whom seemed to blame me for not doing more though some understood and had thanked me for at least trying.

"I'll grab my bag and meet you at Jasmine's!" I yelled back setting off at a run towards the main house. Bursting in I found Mr Haga sitting having his breakfast and as I made my entry, he looked up sharply and asked what was wrong. "Oh, nothing much," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "just another of the whores been beaten up - so what else is new?" Without breaking my stride, I ran to my room, grabbed my emergency bag and raced right out again passing a clearly uncaring Haga who'd already returned to thrusting eggs and bacon into his mouth while his eyes scanned a week old British newspaper.

It didn't take me long to reach the girl's dormitory and Jasmine's room was easy to find as there was a clutch of girls jamming up the door. "Let me through!" I chided them and, after only a brief struggle, I managed to force my way through the throng to reach my patient. Jasmine was not a pretty picture, her body covered in angry black and blue bruises, both her eyes were puffed up and closed, her lips swollen with a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth and down her cheek. But what really drew my attention was what looked suspiciously like cigarette burns to me - nasty, deep injuries all over her arms and breasts that must have been done oh so slowly and callously. Reaching into my bag, I prepared to get to work but the rest of the women crowding into the room were seriously hampering me in my efforts. Luckily I spotted one of the pair of identical twin sisters that I'd got a little friendly with and I knew that they carried a certain amount of respect here. I turned to her and said, "Polly - or Anna, whichever one you are - please, get everyone out of here; I need room to work!"

Polly - or Anna - nodded her understanding and, raising her voice, she shouted something to the others in their own language. With a few mutters and backward glances, the women did as they were asked and soon only Jasmine, myself, whichever twin it was and one other girl who was unknown to me, remained. I looked at quizzically at the stranger but it was PollyAnna who told me that this was Jasmine's sister and that she wanted to remain as she was naturally concerned and very worried. Pulling instruments, bandages and medicines out of my bag, I agreed that she could stay but I didn't like the way she looked at me with something bordering on hatred. Clearly, the sister was firmly in 'the nurse should have done more to stop these beatings' camp!

When I finished examining Jasmine, I realised that her injuries were worse than I first thought for several of her ribs had been broken. If asked, I'd have guessed that she's been kicked while she cowered on the floor. Doing my best to bandage her up and to make her comfortable, I heard the sound of someone else entering the room. "So how is she?" asked Mr Haga.

I explained to him the extent of Jasmine's injuries and suggested that she be returned to the mainland for hospital treatment as soon as possible. "Very well," he replied, "She's on the next chopper out. Get her ready to travel, Nurse Smith."

Jasmine said something in her own tongue which, naturally, I didn't understand but clearly Haga did. "Tell her she gets paid up to last night and not a cent more!" he instructed PollyAnna firmly.

"Oh come on!" I interjected, "She'll not be able to work for ages and I think that this can be classed as an industrial injury. I think you should pay her compensation."

"Compensation?" echoed Mr Haga incredulously. "Look, Ms Smith, you deal with the medical issues here and I'll handle the rest. She gets paid till yesterday and that's final!" and with that, he stalked angrily out of the room.

I sighed. "Ah well, I tried..." I said mostly to myself as I returned to work.

The sister muttered something so I looked up at PollyAnna quizzically. "She say you not try hard enough, missy."

Pushing this comment to the back of my mind where it clearly belonged, I got on with the far more important job of patching the unfortunate hooker up.

Jasmine was flown off the island in the early afternoon but my mood stayed dark all day. Over dinner I was still clearly out of sorts and Mr Foster asked me why. I again voiced my opinions and concerns and once again I was put in my place. I tried to argue my case but this only served to annoy my boss and, in the end, he told me to leave the table before dessert was served and, to be honest, I was happy to go and to escape the atmosphere there. Even as I slipped out of the room, I noticed that Mr Foster was summoning one of the whores from the sofa over to his side - clearly I was not going to be sharing his bed tonight.

Leaning against a palm tree in the garden, I felt rather than heard Mr Cunningham pausing next to me. "Don't be upset - he'll have forgotten all about it in the morning."

"That's partly what I'm upset about." I replied tersely.

"You'll not get anywhere with this, Carol. Life is different out here, women less well regarded, hookers even more so. Just be glad that you live in a different world."

Snorting, I answered that, while I was glad - very glad - that didn't make it right. "I'm off for a walk to clear my head, them I'll turn in. Goodnight," I bid him.

"Night, Nurse Smith," he smiled, turning and returning to the house.

Reaching the beach, I kicked off my elegant high heeled shoes, so impractical for this place, and instead let the sand trickle through my toes as nature intended. Silently I cursed Mr Foster's notions about dressing for dinner which meant that here I was walking along a deserted tropical beach in a full length and very restrictive evening gown purchased from one of the most exclusive salons of Paris, while anyone with an ounce of sense would be in a swimming costume at most. Glancing about me and discovering that no-one at all was around, I unzipped my dress and stepped out of it leaving myself totally nude apart from a minuscule little thong which I quickly pulled down my now deeply tanned legs before stepping out of. Carefully placing the dress over the branch of a conveniently placed overhanging tree, I enjoyed the sensation of the cool night breeze blowing over my naked body. So wrapped up was I in my simple pleasure that I never heard my attacker approaching until the blow landed on the back of my head.