Chapter 13

"I never thought I would fall for you so quickly again," Vicky gushed and smiled at the man curled up underneath her nightie-clad body.

Oliver pursed his lips and looked up at her eyes; she was thinking. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. I mean it's not the money. You always had a wonderful heart. And so clever."

"Not that clever, you went to Uni I didn't," Oliver replied immediately.

"I just wish you'd asked me out at College, I really wanted you to but you never liked me."

"I did, I did," Oliver said quickly. "I always thought you were perfect. I s'pose I left it a bit too late now."

Vicky sighed. "No," she muttered. "It's not too late."

Oliver took a deep breath. "Well what happens now?"

Vicky gazed down at him. "For the next week, we just enjoy ourselves, I'm loving the sex and freedom." She gave him a coy smile and looked into his eyes. "Sorry I was out last night, I had something to do but tonight I'll make it up to you. And then we see about getting you a fake identity," she said confidently. "One of my house mates from last year is dating the local fixer. But I want to know if we do this, I don't want to go to prison if we get caught."

Oliver stared at her, and she raised her eyebrows. "You won't, will you?"

"If I am aiding a criminal on the run, I could be arrested. You have to tell them if you are arrested you told me nothing, and I didn't know about the money or anything. OK?"

Oliver nodded and Vicky squeezed him. The front door slammed shut as her house mate left the house and Vicky slid out of bed. "Ahh shit. I got lectures and I need to see Amy about getting you some fake ID. Go have a shower, I'll be back in ten or fifteen minutes."

Oliver smiled at her and waited for her to get out of bed before she guided him towards the door. "You sure?"

"Yes, I need to see her before she goes off to lectures. And make sure you have a proper wash," she told him. "If you want a deep long blowjob later don't have a minging cock." Oliver snorted and Vicky put the tip of her finger in her mouth and sucked gently and seductively. "And you know I swallow."

The thought of the lovely Vicky giving him a blow-job had his little man instantly interested and he looked at her. She giggled at him and he shrugged. "What?"

"You. You'd think after the last couple of days you'd be worn out," she said with a smile.

Oliver smirked; it was certainly true that since he had lost his virginity, he had had an awful lot of sex with the student who had barely been able to control her libido. She had been warm and friendly, introducing him to all sorts of unbelievable new experiences and pleasures. She had certainly boosted his confidence and self-esteem: she found him irresistible – she said so. "Well you look lovely," he muttered.

"Well just give me ten minutes to talk to Amy and then I'll do us a breakfast in bed."

Oliver watched as she grabbed her phone from the charger, flashed him and then blew a kiss towards him. She shut the bathroom door and he stripped off his clothes; he had bought a few things in the market but everything was tatty and cheap – but he needed to blend in and didn't think wandering around in expensive designer gear was appropriate.

After a quick toilet stop, he turned the shower on and hot water came streaming from the shower head. He adjusted and stepped in, closing his eyes and allowing the refreshing jets to wash away his grime. It felt good to feel the warmth all over his body and he lathered up the shampoo and washed it out of his short hair.

He picked up a razor from the side and silently thanked Vicky for leaving him one out, scraping it over his face. It wasn't overly sharp, and it was pink, but it removed all of his facial stubble with the steam from the shower softening up the bristles nicely.

He considered the previous few days; he was lucky as he seemed to have landed on his feet. Vicky was happy to see him and wanted him. He knew he should have made a move on her when they were at College together but he had chickened out; she was too unattainable then as a College student.

Nothing could have been further from the truth and she was delighted that he had found her; she said as much. She seemed to love him as a criminal on the run and had spent the entire time he had been in Aberdeen looking after him. Oliver stepped out of the hot stream of water and picked up the nearest towel, drying his crotch and then rubbing his face. He danced as he dried himself and then wrapped the large beach towel around him, before opening the door to three armed policemen.

"Oliver Prutton. I am arresting you for robbery, Breaking and entering and Handling stolen goods," he heard in an authoritative voice before being bundled onto the hard tiled floor. "Anything you do say will be taken down and used as evidence against you."

Oliver groaned and was lead away to Vicky's bedroom to get dressed. He pointed out the bag to the Policeman watching him, who took it down as Oliver was handcuffed and lead away past the sobbing Vicky.

"Keep it, I don't want it," Geoff replied and Emma stared at her friendly truck driver.

"Pardon?"

"I got six years for a bank job when I was young, I don't fancy going back. You know I got wife and kids now."

"Oh," Emma muttered and smiled; he had told her all about his life and advised her to give herself up as they would catch her anyway. The bundle of notes she was offering would pay for his extension he needed doing for his new baby or even for his anniversary holiday he wanted to take but Geoff shook his head.

"I've taken a risk taking you this far," he told her and glanced in his mirrors. "The coast is clear."

"Cheers, I really do owe you one."

He smiled. "Always happy to help a damsel in distress. Just when you are caught don't mention my name."

"I won't," Emma promised and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He smiled at her and wished her luck and then pulled out of the lay-by to complete his journey to Plymouth. "Think about it. I've been there. I was your age and was doing the same thing."

Emma pursed her lips, nodded and jumped down from the cab. She felt a tinge of regret but also of complete respect of her lorry driver. He had turned down a reward in not turning her in and refused to take any money from her.

It took Emma just two hours to hike to Plymouth; the Sun was rising and the vivid and violent colours of the sunrise illuminated the sky. The port of Plymouth was on the other side of the town centre, and she treated herself to a fast food breakfast and a local paper.

She was grateful to be able to use the toilets in the "restaurant" before finding out that she was still on the front page of the newspaper; she wanted to be forgotten.

She felt a bit sad that Oliver had been caught; he had never wanted to be involved but had managed to put himself in Aberdeen which she thought was a good effort nevertheless. He had been pictured going into the Police Station and was even called the "mastermind" which she thought was stretching the truth to breaking point; newspapers loved doing that she reasoned.

Interestingly, she read that the Police thought that she and Jamie were also in Scotland and she reasoned it did her no harm to be the best part of 500 miles between the Police and herself.

The ferry terminal was dreary and small; she had expected a whirlwind of passionate activity but it was quite desolate, and she sat idly waiting for inspiration.

A few people came and went but unless she had a passport then she wouldn't be going anyway and would be inviting arrest; but where could she get a false passport from in Plymouth? She didn't even know if she could get a false passport in Liverpool with her contacts, let alone Plymouth and she kicked her heels. She saw the smaller boats and wondered whether they could be coerced into giving her a lift, but she would be opening herself up to people she couldn't trust.

Emma wondered about being a stowaway; she was agile enough and with her slender physique and athletic prowess she reckoned she could probably hide but knew it was a one time only deal: if she was caught then it would be all over.

She mulled over a few options, could she hide in the hold of a lorry, or even a coach but then there were not many boats leaving the port transporting road vehicles. She clicked her teeth together, she was tired and uninspired, when something caught her eye. A minibus, full of ferry staff was working its way out of the terminal and she started to follow it.

It was rush hour, and nothing in Plymouth was moving pretty quickly, and so with a combination of running, and good eyesight, she was able to follow it for a mile to its destination at a small hotel on the edge of the town centre.

Emma wondered that if she could be "staff" could she get aboard and crept around the back of the hotel, her heart was racing and checked a couple of locked doors. There was a noise, and she darted behind a crate and a door flew open, for a man to come striding out in his chef whites and light up a cigarette.

With his back turned, Emma peered into the room, and seeing it was just an employee rest room darted inside and inched along the corridor. She heard voices, and without thinking, opened the nearest door and walked through into the laundry room.

She was surrounded by ferry uniforms and changing into her size as quickly as she could, she left the room and darted down the corridor to the front of the hotel.

"Sorry, did you get a room?" Emma was asked as she hovered in the porch, awaiting for the minibus driver and to blend in.

"Err ... no. I'm going shortly."

"Oh," the receptionist asked, puffing on her cigarette. "Oh OK that's fine."

"You don't have a shower room, do you. My hair is so greasy 'cos I've just come off sea."

"Back to back shifts, they a bugger aren't they?" Emma just smiled and waited for the receptionist to finish her cigarette and passed her a key to a room on the ground floor. "Bus goes in ten minutes," she told her and watched as Emma walked off to the room.

Warm water was much appreciated by the determined woman and within ten minutes had liberated the hotel of their toiletries and had cleaned her body and hair, although her teeth still felt a little furry as they had not provided her with a toothbrush.

She only just made the minibus with the driver not caring that there was one extra person. She got some funny looks on the bus until one of her colleagues started talking to her, asking her if she was new. Emma hesitated and then shyly introduced herself as "Amy" and the more vocal members of the bus seemed to dominate the conversation.

This suited her; it wasn't in her interest to stand out to other members on the minibus as she certainly didn't want to be recognised and the arrest of Oliver had put her story back in the newspapers complete with a photo.

Emma froze as the bus went through the checkpoint. If she was asked for her passport, she wouldn't have it, but the bus stopped in the shadow of the ferry. Emma intentionally waited at the back of the group but started walking up the gangway with her new colleagues and towards the ship.

They all seemed preoccupied with their own friendship groups and Emma was deliberately shy and reticent to talk on the bus so they were happy to leave her as they strode up to the vessel. This allowed Emma time to take in her new surroundings and think as she walked up the steep ramp. The first thing she saw was a manager checking his staff onto the boat and her heart sank, slowing down. She realised that he had not seen her and looking back down the ramp saw more people coming up the ramp; she couldn't turn around and go back down even if she wanted to.

Emma took a deep breath, her heart was pounding in her chest and wiped her mouth, tucking her hair behind her ears. He was looking at her, and was no more than twenty yards away. "Come on," he barked. "You're late."