I had only lain down on the couch in the darkened interior of my Winnebago, when there was a panic banging at my motor home door. I went and opened it, fighting against the cold icy wind and rain to hold it open. A woman dressed only in a sari, her hair in a mess, and soaking wet, stood there.
In poor English "Please let me hide here, bad men want to harm me." She blurted out casting a worried look behind her.
"Come in, please," I said glad to get the door closed, and us separated from the outside elements.
Even though she was shivering and wet, by the look on her face she was amazed at the luxury that these vehicles have.
"I am illegal migrant, bad men brought me this country, to marry but want me to work in brothel, I run away from toilet, please hide me, no let them take me."
"Well you can't stay in those wet clothes, and I have no clothes for you, what I do have is a pair of pyjamas, I will get them for you, and you change out of these wet things at the back, I won't let the men take you." Trying to be the white knight in shinning armour.
To be on the safe side, I thought I had better leave this rest area, but first I would have to fill my tanks, as I got into the drivers seat, and swivelled it round into the driving position. I saw three dark-skinned men walking around the car park in the pouring rain, with no rain gear on, looking for someone.
I pulled into one of the many filling bays and alighted to fill my tank. As I was filling the tank, one of these men approached me. "Have you seen a woman dressed in a sari, I seem to have lost her, and she is my wife?"
"Why are you looking for your wife out here in the pouring freezing rain? Surely she would be sheltering in one of the warm buildings."
"She would be wanting a lift, we had a tiff."
"Well it's easy to get a lift here, as you see traffic is continually entering and leaving all the time."
Now one of his friends, a real seedy looking character appeared from behind my motor home, "Forget it Ali, she's not worth it." Then they both disappeared into the night.
I paid for my fuel, and headed north, towards Edinburgh on the A1(M). Shortly after the Indian woman came forward, and I told her to sit in the passenger seat and do up her seat belt. She was dressed in my pyjamas and had let her hair down; she must have used my comb to comb it out. Her hair reached to her bottom, and was lustre black.
"Now tell me what this is all about," I asked her.
The story she told was:
Her name was Kari Patel, she thinks she is twenty-two years old. Two weeks ago; she flew in from Bangladesh, to get married. She came from a small town outside Bogra, where her family was very poor. A friend of an uncle came from Britain and said the men there don't want a dowry, and he would arrange a passport and passage for her. Seemingly, she didn't even have a birth certificate; it isn't compulsory to register births in Bangladesh, especially girls.
On arrival, here there was no marriage, she had been locked up in a room in London, and was told she was being taken to Manchester to work in a brothel there, to repay the cost of her airfare.
She said she had never attended school. She had picked up some English from an English girl whose parents had worked in her village for a short time. Since then, she had wanted to come to Britain.
All this was said in her broken English. I thought it was strange about the birth certificate bit, and then I remembered a documentary on present-day slavery and camel jockeys. Bangladesh was the country of choice, because of this very reason. In fact, there was no documentation on this earth to say that Kari ever existed.
What a problem I thought, what am I to do with this poor creature? Here I am off on a three-month solitude holiday that I have been planning for years and within hours of starting, I now have a woman companion.
I have kept away from women now for over four years, after a bad experience with my ex-wife. She had been giving free sex to all the male employees of the computer software company I used to own. It appears everyone knew about it except me. So when she gave birth to the child I thought was mine, but he was born black, then the truth came out. I had a sympathetic judge who heard my case and she got one of the three houses we owned and only 10% of the company. I immediately sold the company and within a few months, the new owners had bought her out at a lot less than they had paid me proportionally for my part.
The last I heard she had sold the house because of debts, and the father of her child had deserted her. She was now living in some Council flat in East London.
I arranged through a good friend of mine to allow their son who is attending some religious course for ministers in London to use my home and keep an eye on it for the first month of my holiday. I was getting the use of a camper pad they had in the north-west of Scotland. They had invested in a diesel generator, water and sewerage for the site and usually went there each year. This year they are off to Spain camping with a group. Therefore, I took up their offer of their site, as I wanted to get away from everyone.
Since my divorce, I wrote a small program, which raw copied CD's. I was approached by a big record distribution company, who bought out my patient, to prevent their CD's from being copied with the new protection. My program made this protection invisible. There was one other company who had a similar program and they were also approached.
Since my divorce I have stayed well away from females, as it appears that all of my generation females are out to drain you dry for there own monetary gain, and the courts are not helping. This was why I said it was strange I now had a female companion, not that I was gay.
This Winnebago was my pride and joy; I had always envied seeing these vehicles in American movies and always wished I could own one. I stocked mine out so it would provide all my needs for a long holiday with all the comforts of a luxury home. I even had a trial bike on a special frame mounted on the rear in a special lockable glass fibre container.
I took the minor road at Scotch Corner and headed for Coldstream to enter Edinburgh by the south, rather than by the coast road.
We stopped at one of the lay-bys, as I now had been driving non-stop for eight hours, except for the brief stop when Kari came into the camper. I made a coffee and gave one to Kari who hasn't said much at all since she told me about how she got here.
"You have a very nice, what you call it," she said, spreading her arms and looking around.
"Mobile home, but I must say you look real cute in my pyjamas."
It was obvious that she had removed her bra (If she did wear one) for she was very bouncy when she walked around. Now in the light she was a very attractive woman, and it was a pity the way she had been treated.
"Kari, I am off on a long holiday, you are quite welcome to come with me or I will drop you off where you want. "
"You very kind, please I stay with you. I know no-one in this country."
"Well my name is Charlie Brownlow, Kari!" Holding out my hand and she shook it "Welcome aboard"
It was going to be a little difficult, as I only had the double bed; I had the other beds removed. So I said to her "Kari I only have the one bed and no spare bedding, you will have to share the bed, but have no fear you are quite safe I won't be molesting you."
She thought about it for some time and said "OK I trust you, but no sex please."
We agreed and she at long last smiled what a beautiful smile it was too.
"When we get to Edinburgh we will have to get you some clothing as you only have one set. I am only passing through Edinburgh I want to get to Perth, to spend two nights and visit some points of interest there." I might have said I am visiting the moon, as she had no idea where these places were.
"I only wear sari, I no like western clothes." She said emphatically.
We continued and entered Edinburgh about 10am and we were able to park in the fourth parking area we visited. Kari by this time had once more dressed in her now wrinkled sari, underskirt and short-sleeved blouse.
The first big shop we entered was Marks and Spencers, and I managed to get her fitted out with six sets of bra's and panties, two nightdresses, a Terri dressing-gown and a thick pullover, and cardigan, but that is as far as she would go. One good thing came out of it though, she was talking to another Bangladeshi woman, who came over to me and explained there was a shop nearby where she could buy good working saris and accessories.
In fact it was just round the corner, and we came out with three cotton lengths and three ready-made underskirts and long sleeve blouses, all in matching colours.
When we got back into the RV she went and changed into the new sari, when she emerged she did look nice with her hair rolled into a bun at the back of her head.
We continued over the Forth Road Bridge and within an hour, we were in Perth. Parked in a Camper site, and connected to mains and sewerage.
After a quick shower, Kari was amazed there was a shower in the RV, she had one too and changed into her new underwear. We then went to a restaurant and had a good meal. Well I did, Kari was out of her depth, and I should have realized from what she had told me that this would be the case. She was determined to learn and watched me like a hawk, and followed my example. The food also must have been strange for her too.
.... There is more of this story ...