Chapter 5: Hope For Lisa?

"Still no letter from Lisa, Dad?"

"No, son. Your mother is so worried. It's been over a year since she wrote to say she had started her sentence and since then, nothing. I've written to the prison and the Foreign Office and my MP and to everyone I can think of and it's a brick wall. I know that she's alive and in good health. That much they will tell me, but they button up their lips when I ask why she writes no letters. There must be a pile of them we've sent her!"

George, Lisa's elder brother, was enjoying his summer vacation. Although 'enjoy' was not a word that Lisa's family had used much in the fourteen months since her arrest and never in the thirteen months she had been in prison. None of them liked to think how it would have aftected the slim and beautiful girl, who had always been the cosseted baby of the family, indulged by her mother and brother and doted on by her father.

Both Mr Griffiths and George had flown out to the Asian resort when Lisa had been arrested and had even been allowed to see her in her holding cell. They had been encouraged by her cheerfulness and flown home in the knowledge that she was coping very well and showing a lot of bravery.

"I'm going back there, Dad. I've got until October before I go back to College. I can't just sit around here while my little sister is going through God knows what horrors. They probably don't speak English in that gaol!"

"I think she's in a wing for English speaking women, George. At least that's the impression I got. She was full of enthusiasm for a girl called Samantha. You remember - I showed you the letter."

George remembered every word of Lisa's first and only letter. He called to mind one sentence in particular. 'I like her so much, Daddy! With her as a friend I really don't mind spending three years here - and maybe it'll be less. I think they are very good about paroles and good conduct remissions and you know what a good girl I am. Pity the judge didn't think so, though! Keep smiling darling Mummy and Daddy and my love to clever old George!'. He felt, to his shame, a tear forming as he repeated these words to himself. She had certainly sounded happy enough in that letter, showing an admirable ability to seek out the good side of any situation.

George had to wait a week for a visa and a further week to make the bookings. His father had arranged unlimited credit at the country's main bank ( as he had for Lisa a year ago) and all he had to do was find out what was happening to his sister. His first act on arrival was to seek an interview at the Department of Justice which oversaw the country's prison system. He was kept waiting for a week until he was asked to drop in. The Mr Hernandes who finally invited him to come round to see him was a fat and perspiring man who looked like a heart attack in waiting to the ever athletic and fit George.

"I am sorry, Mr Griffiths. I have the record of your sister's trial. The evidence was only photographic. Here is the incriminating photo taken by a security camera."

George looked closely at it. That was never Lisa! Never in a million years!

"That is not my sister, Mr Hernandes. How could you have identified her and convicted her on the basis of that?" He was seething with rage to think poor little Lisa had been fifteen months in custody on the basis of a blurred photo of a fair haired round-shouldered woman at least five years her senior.

"That woman is stooping, Mr Hernandes and Lisa - my sister - holds herself straight as a ramrod - always has. She'd never slouch like that!"

"She was the only blonde female in the hotel at the time and she was in possession of a lot of money when arrested."

"Of course she had money on her. She'd made a withdrawal from the bank that same day. I should know, we arranged the credit for her. She had all the money she wanted and had no need to steal."

"Perhaps she had overspent, Mr Griffiths and was afraid to tell her father."

"Rubbish. She'd never be afraid to own up - she's not that kind of girl and I should know, having experienced her total honesty for eighteen years! And anyway she can wrap Dad round her little finger and does on a regular basis, the little minx!" He felt tears staring up again as he recalled Lisa's preposterous wheedling, effortlessly securing any and every favour out of a father who indulged her even as he treated his son so strictly. Not that George was complaining! He was entranced by his lovely younger sister as much as anyone else.

"But this is going over old ground. I want to know why we have not heard from her since her letter dated the eleventh of August last year and it is now the seventeenth of September, over a year later. She would never be so cruel as to keep us in the dark this long."

Mr Hernandes smiled. "I am not actually in charge of that prison. My colleague Mr Sanchez handles it as a rule. But he is away for another six weeks. I fear you will have to wait until then!"

His next call was at the Embassy and they were not too hopeful. They told him that consular access was rarely granted. But they did assure him that the prison in question was well run, but strict.

"My guess is that your sister committed a disciplinary offence and is under some kind of restriction of privileges." said Mr Fordyce "I'm sure you'll be hearing from her soon."

George left getting to doubt that his visit had acheived anything.

"Another spoilt brat getting into trouble and hoping her rich relations will dig her out!" said the harassed Fordyce to a jumior colleague. "God, but I detest these rich bitches going off the rails and all the trouble they cause us! I say it will do her good to find out the world isn't here purely for her gratification. But we'd best look into it! See to it will you? No hurry!"

Mr Potts, the junior official in question took a different line, happily for Lisa, and he pursued the case with an energy that even had the torpid Ministry of Justice responding. But even he had to wait until the vitally important Mr Sanches returned!

George came home in early October, still unaware that his sister was now in the sixtieth week of solitary confinement, and with sixty still to come. The matter of her menstruation had been resolved, with all penalties arising cancelled. Unfortunately, Lisa had been ill for some weeks earlier in the summer and had fainted twice in ten minutes and twice soiled the floor at the same time. It had broken hatchet-face's heart as she adjusted the time switch, giving the poor young woman four more weeks. Two times she had attacks of diarrhoea and soiled the floor, despite trying to make the short distance to the floor toilet, being obliged to wait four stinking days for the ten day hosing. Apart from that, though, she had incurred no extra weeks since the early part of her captivity and was quietly celebrating what she was sure was the half-way stage - unless she became ill again and there was no sign of that.

Lisa was half way through her second novel by this time. She had completed the first during her fifty second week in solitary, at about the time that a half-crazed Sandra had completed her punishmnent and been freed, bare-breasted and wild-eyed to rejoin a shocked Samantha. Her first novel had been a steamy romance and every word of it was committed to memory. Set partly in Revolutionary France and partly in the East Indies, it had covered the unlikely and colourful adventures of a young noblewoman who had endured prison, near execution and a shipwreck before being rescued by a dashing, swashbuckling pirate. Some of the love scenes had been so hot that as she stood still in the middle of her cell for hour after hour, going time and time again over every last gasp of passion and thrust of manly pirate penis into tight, dripping wet, hot and welcoming aristocratic vulva, that she had feared for her own bodily purity and prayed that signs of moistness in her own crotch were not too obvious to the vigilant staff.

"That girl's going off her head, if you ask me." said Hatchet-Face to the governor as they sat eating their sandwiches and sipping ice-cold beer with the sun streaming into the office. It was certainly a wonderful day. "She's not so much as moved for hours. She's gone balmy - and who can be surprised - poor girl She'll be like a zombie when she gets out - if she lives that long!"

"I disagree. Look how straight she still stands! That's not a defeated girl, like some we've seen. She's just lost in her own imagination. It's her way of escaping from the awful reality she is in. Now she has got over her food poisoning she will be fine."

Both the governor and Hatchet-Face had been stricken with the bug that had swept the prison. They had been in bed for a week. Lisa had been far worse affected, but had still remained upright until, the day before the infection finally cleared her by then shattered body, she had twice briefly passed out and twice slightly soiled her cell. It mattered not that she had forced herself back to her feet each time and almost made the distance to the toilet before her bowels cascaded her stinking flux into the hole and slightly spattered the floor. She had broken the rules and knew that it had cost her four more weeks in just a few short minutes! Since then, the problem had been traced to the water supply, which was now deemed pure by the public health authorities.

"I really do hope you are right" said Hatchet Face. She looked for the millionth time at Lisa's ivory white skin, untouched by sunlight for so long and those firm breasts with their pink nipples and small coral pink areolae and, above all, those flawless young buttocks and she lusted anew. She loved a good arse and Lisa's was the greatest! She had caressed its sweet roundness a zillion times and planted as many kisses on it. Occasionally she imagined giving that posterior love bites, leaving her teeth marks on both cheeks, and that was when she came to some marvellous orgasms! But it was not merely lust that made her hope Lisa would come out alive and in her right mind. She had grown to admire as well as hunger for that girl, and apart from that, like the professional she was, she would never dream of touching her for real. But it was good to look at that sweet flesh and dream!

The Governor was a married man with two daughters, one of whom was Lisa's age. He would sometimes have nightmares about his Carmen ending up in the same plight as Lisa. He thought of Lisa's parents, especially her father. The poor couple! And they knew nothing of what was being done to their so lovely daughter! Perhaps it was as well. He had authorised a letter to the British Embassy saying, truthfully, that she was alive and in good health. Her family would have to be satisfied with this titbit of information until Lisa came out in sixty weeks and was able to write and tell it in her own words.