Chapter 15

"That's five Euros twenty please," Emma asked, and wearily rubbed her eyes. She had tried to escape from the clutches of the manager but he had sent her to the shop and had been serving the customers for the first six hours of the voyage and after a ten hour break, the last four hours.

The stop supervisor had barely taken an interest in her, and just allowed Emma to serve the passengers sweets, newspapers and chocolate bars. She took the money from an excited boy who had an armful of unhealthy snacks.

"Two minutes," her supervisor said in gruff tones. "We are nearly there."

"OK," Emma muttered and watched as the flurry of passengers frantically bought the essentials they would want before the shutters came down and Emma was asked to clean the shop with the mop and duster. Emma almost resented doing it as the supervisor played with her mobile phone and then idly rearranged some of the stock.

Emma felt a little aggrieved at the laziness of "her" manager but realised that it was an ideal cover and if she blended into the background she would be in Spain in a few hours.

Emma left the shop and went back to the staff room where she had used a locker to stash her ill-gotten gains. She was unsure of what would happen when she got to port and knew she had to have her wits about her if they started checking passports or bags.

She felt nervous and anxious. Everything since she had entered the house she had some modicum of understanding about. She knew about stately homes and quick getaways, she knew about stowing away and running from the Police. She knew about social engineering her way to get a free hotel room. She knew nothing about blagging her way into a country.

Emma did her best to hide her nervousness; she knew a train border agent would detect fear in her body language a mile off and waited; the staff room was almost empty as most of the staff would have to clean the ship and prepare it for a return journey but started reading a discarded novel to occupy her mind.

Ten minutes later, the ship docked and Emma was waiting on the deck, watching as the Spanish city came into view. She needed to change some of her pounds into Euros but there would have a hundred ways to exchange money the moment she got on dry land and just allowed herself to be sucked by the crowd down the gangway into mainland Europe.

Two guards watched as the posse of travellers sauntered past them and Emma's heart leapt when one of them shouted and pointed at her. Her stomach lurched and she went to make a run for it, desperate to get away but her legs didn't move and one of the border guards moved in.

She watched as his hands left his side and snatched a teenager in front of her, the bag caught up in his feet and leaving her grip. She jolted in fright, and looked at the guard who dragged the boy to one side and removed a knife from his pocket.

There was commotion and Emma, paralysed with dread, recovered to her senses and walked briskly into the port and then out into the town. She had a slight understanding of Spanish, her last boyfriend had been brought up in Madrid and she had gone to Ibiza but she had never read much of the language and didn't understand a word of what any of the signs meant or said. She wanted a station, some Euros and preferably a nice hot bath and a change of clothes.

Emma had thought hard on the boat; she would be docking in northern Spain and wanted to get to Argentina. She considered trying to get to an airport but the lack of documentation would make flying impossible, especially with the security checks that she would be subjected to.

This left her with travelling by boat, which was far easier and slower until she considered the thought of getting a yacht. Hiring a yacht might be difficult but stealing a yacht would be easy and she knew that people sailed across the Atlantic Ocean on a daily basis in their expensive toys.

As try as she could, Emma could only think of Monaco and Gibraltar as being havens for big boats and neither were in Spain but decided to try her luck in Barcelona; it was a big port and she felt safer in Spain. She wasn't in Spanish papers and the Police would have no idea she had fled Britain. She would have to be careful but it would be safer.

Emma walked into the small town centre and found a back street bureau de change. She didn't want to get asked for ID at a bank, and although she was still in the uniform from the ferry didn't want to get asked too many questions. The Spanish gentleman gave her a pretty poor rate as she turned a few hundred Pounds into a worryingly similar amount of Euros but it was enough to buy herself a train ticket, a meal and some clothes.

Emma was out of Britain. Emma felt free and Emma felt safe.

"Sorry," Jamie cried and had to put his hand over her mouth to stop her from screeching. The naked woman struggled and he lay her back on the chair. "Now if I take my hand off of your mouth you won't scream, will you?" She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and anxiety. "Will you? I am not here to hurt you, I promise."

She shook her head and slowly Jamie removed it from her mouth and glanced over her flawless body and the romantic book she was reading. "Who are you?"

Jamie hesitated and licked his lips. "I just came as I'm a bit lost and thought I could kip in your shed."

"Right well I am calling the Police."

"Don't," Jamie cried and put his hand over her chest to stop her from getting up. "Please. I've umm ... I've run away from home. Just looking for a few places to sleep until I get back on me feet." The girl screwed up her face and Jamie glanced down at her. "I'll pay you," he promised. "Just let me kip in your shed or on your sofa and I'll pay you, please."

The girl looked at him up and down and sighed. "This isn't my house," she said in almost perfect diction. "So I can't let you stay." Jamie sighed and looked ruefully at her, but she rubbed the back of his hand. "Why have you run away from home?"

"I umm..." Jamie stuttered and not quite sure how to finish the sentence licked his lips. "My dad told me not to see my girlfriend any more and we split up because of him," he lied and glanced down at the romantic novel in her hand. "He didn't like her, but I loved her. She was perfect," he muttered wistfully, his mind flashing back to how he thought when he was in prison and Emma stopped coming to see him.

"Oh why," she cooed, ignoring her lack of clothes and Jamie admired the curvy, well-proportioned girl. She was no more than eighteen with straight jet black hair that came down to her ample bosom. There wasn't a blemish on her tanned body and Jamie couldn't resist staring at her shaved pubis and wonderfully tanned legs.

"Religion," Jamie muttered. "She wasn't the right religion."

The girl wrapped her arms around Jamie. "That's so sad," she told him, pressing his face into her bare bosom and Jamie bit his lip and nodded. "You poor thing. How long were you going out?"

Jamie puffed. "Well since I was eleven. She was ten. It was almost a decade." The girl dabbed at her eyes and Jamie hummed. "We had to keep it a secret, but they found out in the end." Jamie wrapped his arms around the girl and smiled to himself; he was quite enjoying be the storyteller.

"Oh it's just like Romeo and Juliet. It's horrible when parents do that. Where is she now?"

"Her parents. They sent her away."

"Away?" The girl squawked.

"Yeah," Jamie said, running out of ideas. "Back to umm, their country."

"Oh you hear about it all the time. Was it India or Pakistan?" Jamie nodded and she continued gushing over him. "You hear about it all the time. It's horrible. No wonder you run away from home."

"I ... umm ... well it knocked me a bit, so I took all the money I've earned and come running."

She sighed and held out her hand. "Rosie. I'm the maid. Of course you can stay the night."

Jamie smiled. "Yeah, sorry for scaring you."

"Ahh it's OK. You don't normally get a fit looking guy jump over the wall when you are sunning yourself in the garden but I am home alone all week so why not go naked?"

"No," Jamie muttered and looked at her wonderful body. "Why not indeed."

Rosie's phone beeped next to her and she growled at it, ignoring it as the beep was followed by an annoying ring. "It's the local gym," she moaned. "They have been on at me for the last four months because I got behind on my subs."