Chapter 37

The following morning was busy for Lauren in comparison to others. She got up just before 8 o'clock, slipped naked from her bed and showered. She moved the growing pile of clothes from the doorway of the bathroom and added them to the two pairs of knickers she had discovered that previous night. Lauren ran her hand over the sofa, brining it to her nose to check whether any evidence remained of their activities. To her disappointment, there was none. A quick rummage through her clothes produced a clean T-Shirt and a pair of knickers. Bras were too warm anyway and socks were unnecessary.

She waltzed down to the kitchen, humming to herself as she made coffee. Lauren recalled the news reports of the night before and was dismayed. She felt sure they would have to leave the house and trudge south to safety. Emma had mentioned that the servants, who seemed to hear the news at least 24 hours before it was broadcast, had said they had already started packing essential items, ready for an emergency. Lauren knew such a move was wise, but found it difficult to summon the energy. She knew that being a foreign national might cause complications initially, but a three Swiss passports would protect them once they became known to people in authority.

Elizabeth telephoned just as the coffee had percolated, saying that she and Gustav were in Geneva, in discussions. She wouldn't say any more, but asked twice whether the children were well. Lauren relayed what she felt Elizabeth wanted to hear, sipping her coffee in between sentences. Slumped in the chair, she put her feet on another and lazily reached behind for a pack of biscuits.

"Yes, I think we're OK for money. I've used your credit card - the blue and white one - for shopping and petrol. Oh yes, the car needed fixing - air conditioning." She munched again, her attention drifting from the conversation to the sound of footsteps in the hallway. "No sign of Quintero - I call him at least once a day. Emma thinks he's working for the Nationalists some days then the Government on others." Jamie drifted into view, barefoot. In fact, as far as Lauren could tell, naked except for a T-Shirt that stopped about mid- thigh. Her gaze fixed between his legs, following his buttocks as he took a cup, poured coffee and added cream from the fridge.

"Not much news other than that" said Lauren, her legs dropping to the floor as Jamie sat at the table, facing at right-angles to her. "Jamie's here now, I'll hand you over. Yeah, bye now"

She watched his face as he talked to his mother. He smiled, clearly pleased to speak to her. Lauren unknowingly stared, lost in her own thoughts as she watched his features and expressions as the conversation wandered. She thought of her own mother and the rubbish they normally spoke about when she called. Unconsciously, she pulled her right leg up onto her left. She was unaware that Jamie stole a glance between her legs at that moment, and again when she reached back over her head and stretched noisily.

She did notice however when he turned slightly towards her, parting his legs while still speaking on the phone. Her stomach lurched as she watched, her eyes opening wide in expectation of his cock. She got up and tipped the remainder of her coffee into the sink, returning to the table with a cloth and wiping the surface. She confirmed the situation, his cock heavy, hanging between his legs but not erect.

He eventually rang off, displaying his swollen state as he walked out of the kitchen back to his bedroom. No sooner had he left than then phone rang again. A Spanish- sounding voice had Lauren baffled, and she called Jamie back to translate.

"One of the cleaners, kid's ill. She won't be in today."

"Oh dear. That's a shame, what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure, something ached I think" he shrugging. Lauren was suprised by his dismissal of the subject.

"Well, shouldn't we help?"

"Why?"

"I don't know, they're our neighbours, right?" argued Lauren.

"In a way, but they're servants, cleaners. They can go to the doctors if they want."

"Who's going to the doctor?" asked Emma, wandering in a bikini, ready for the pool. Lauren watched Jamie's eyes as they toured his sister's body, resting on the thin patch of material between her legs.

"The cleaner, the tall, young one. Her child's ill. She ought to take her to the doctor."

"No way. These people don't go to the doctor. They can't afford it and the chances of the Welfare State refunding their money is zero. That's what Quintero said." said Emma, slouching down on a chair.

"Well, we should help. Poor woman must be out of her mind with fright."

"We don't do that sort of thing here!" protested Jamie.

"Well, we do now. Good God, we can spare a few dollars for a consultation. In fact, I'll pay for it! Emma, please call her and tell her we'll take him to the doctor this morning if she wants."

Emma looked at Lauren in astonishment, raising her eyebrows in resignation once she realised that Lauren was serious. She dialed the number and spoke quickly, nodding as she stared out the window towards the town. Lauren realised that she was repeatedly telling the woman that it wasn't necessary to keep thanking her as she tried to ring off.

"Whew! She says the girl is almost limp and crying continually. Let's go then!" squealed Emma, caught up in the excitement of their deed. Jamie frowned as the two girls slammed the front door and sped off down the driveway.

Lauren drove carefully, making sure the air conditioning in the car was working at full, cooling the interior to make it as comfortable as possible for their passengers. Emma pointed the way around the back of their own house, down smaller roads that became white, dusty tracks, pot-holed and uneven where the surface had been washed away.

Chickens occasionally pecked at the roadside and thin cattle meandered on the open ground beside the road. Habitation sprang up gradually, the small, poorly roofed houses nestling together as if cowering from the car. Paint peeled and Lauren felt increasingly uncomfortable, embarrassed and guilty with her own lifestyle and the sudden chasm that existed between themselves and the villagers only yards from their house.

"Here, take a right here!" said Emma.

"Have you been here before?"

"Once, Daddy took her home once when it was really late" Lauren stopped the car and got out, feeling the blistering heat of the late morning beating down on her shoulders. Emma raised her hand to knock but the old grey door opened, revealing the cleaning lady, an expression of gratitude and humility on her old face. She welcomed them inside the house, motioning towards her daughter lying on a blanket on the floor. The house was stiflingly hot, airless, almost devoid of any decoration or ornaments - bare walls, a cross hanging on the far side, glass broken in the windows, a dog curled up beside the little girl while two other younger children teased it. Lauren was shocked, unprepared and if she could have spoken Spanish she would have spent the day apologising for the world. A snort brought her from her thoughts and she realised she had failed to see a man asleep on the tatty sofa. He had his back to them and was dressed in black shorts and a white T- Shirt. His hair was unkempt, matted. His shoes lay on the floor, beside a collection of wine bottles.

"She says she's been like that for a day now." said Emma, ignoring the noise from the man. "Won't eat, just drinks water occasionally."

"Tell her we'll take them both to the doctor. Tell her we will pay." said Lauren, kneeling beside the girl. Emma did as requested, giving the woman further cause to offer her thanks continually. Lauren became slightly irritated by the woman's gratitude and motioned to them both that they should get into the car. The woman gently scooped up her daughter. The tiny arms hung down, her head lolling back, rolling around without strength. Lauren injected some urgency into proceedings.

"OK, let's go. Get her in the back and then you in the front." Lauren watched as the woman fumbled with the door handle, clambered up into the car and laid her baby along the seat. She then turned back to the house, shooing her other children inside with a simple command and wave of her hand. Carefully, she clambered in next to the little girl. She seemed mesmerized by the plush interior, the dials and equipment, almost oblivious to the moans of her child. Doors slammed and Lauren drove off as quickly as she could, embarrassed by her surroundings. The short journey took less than ten minutes, and Lauren noticed again as they entered the doctor's office that the woman was ill at ease, stuttering over her name and address as the smiling receptionist took her details before showing her though to the waiting doctor.