The Trophy Taker - Lee Weeks

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the handful of girls left in the Dressing Room. She had done enough work for one night. It was only when she reached the line of taxis that she decided she wasn’t in the mood to return home just yet – she deserved a little fun after her ordeal. She caught a cab to the Macau ferry terminal, just a short distance away, and boarded the waiting ferry.

      The journey would take nearly an hour, but tonight she didn’t mind. Usually she was impatient to arrive; but this time she knew it would give her the time and space to mull things over. Mostly she thought about Georgina, who had just arrived – landed, almost – in their lives. She smiled to herself. Those big hands! That innocent face! She brought out the maternal instinct in Lucy. God knows, that was funny, feeling maternal to a girl just two years younger than herself. But why not? She could take care of them all.

      She sat back to take stock of her surroundings and to enjoy the anticipation and the rush of pure adrenalin and excitement that only Macau gave her. Gambling was a need that had grown in her over the last few years. She had become addicted to its thrills, its uncertainty – knowing that she could lose everything she had, or simply win the world. It was a thrill second to none. But it was a deadly game to play. Macau was run, ruined and ruled by triads.

      She looked out of the window to see the lights flickering on the horizon. They would be docking soon. She shifted in her seat and smiled to herself. Her buttocks were raw – it had taken her time to get used to it: the pain, the fear. But she had to cut herself a niche in the hostess market. There were just too many pretty Chinese girls out there.

      She’d started young – she’d had to, when their alcoholic mother was found floating among the boats in Aberdeen, just another piece of flotsam. Then Lucy had to provide for herself and her little sister. She was twelve when she sold her virginity to a Taiwanese, and when that money ran out she went to work in the clubs. She might not be the best-looking girl but she was one of the smartest. She cottoned on quickly to a dark sadistic side to men that they so desired but never dared ask for. Lucy let them have their heart’s desire – as long as they paid, and paid well. It was a lucrative market. There wasn’t a Caucasian she’d met that didn’t like to inflict pain. Not the Chinese so much, except the ones who were educated abroad like Chan. Middle Eastern men wanted that and nothing else, and the Japanese? Don’t ask! Not only could Lucy perform almost any act of self-degradation, in truth she quite enjoyed it. The sting of smarting flesh, the power of perversity. She liked to look into their eyes at that point of abandonment and steal a part of their soul. But Chan had gone too far tonight, and not for the first time. In Chan she had met her match.

      Lucy sighed to herself. It would all be worth it one day, maybe even this day. Perhaps tonight would be the night to change everything. She looked around and sized up her fellow passengers. No one she recognised, which was a relief. A bunch of Americans, over-sized and over-dressed. The men wore a uniform of Farah slacks and club ties. The women dressed too young, had sharp features and orange skin, and ridiculously over-dyed, back-combed hair. That’s not beautiful, thought Lucy. Much better to have a good Hong Kong girl than that!

      Apart from the Americans and a few Portuguese returning home, the ferry was practically empty. She stared at the Americans and tried a smile. She might still be able to catch herself a Gweilo. An American passport, that would be the one! Canadian or New Zealand would do very well too. She would even take British if she could get it! At the age of twenty-four she would be happy with any ticket out for her and Ka Lei.

      It didn’t work this time, though. The men’s wayward attention was refocused and held in a mental headlock by their eagle-eyed wives.

      Lucy gave up and stared out at the lights coming from Macau. They were gliding on the water, on its skin, like oil. Her thoughts returned to the future. Lucy wondered what difference her English cousin’s arrival would make in the grand scheme of things. She and Ka Lei were like twins separated at birth, now reunited. They were so innocent, so young. Both of them were like children: laughing, playing, running around the apartment. And Lucy was like their mother. Something told her that whatever it was that lay ahead, her newfound cousin would feature in it.

      She shifted in her seat again: the sitting was beginning to irritate her and concentrating was becoming more difficult. Anyway, that was enough speculation. She didn’t like dwelling on things to come or things gone. ‘Now’ was what counted. Bernadette had told her that life was like driving a car – you just needed to look in the mirror now and again to see what was behind you. The rest of the time, keep your eyes on the road ahead.

      Tonight all roads led to Macau, and one big win would take care of them all: Ka Lei, Georgina, all of them. Lucy knew something big was coming – she felt it.

      But, while it was true that tonight would change her life irrevocably, that all their lives would never be the same from this night on, it was not in the way that Lucy hoped. Not at all.

       20

      Macau was busy – always busy – twenty-four hours a day. Hong Kong didn’t allow casinos, but Macau did. The smartest one was the newest: the Royal Palace. A floating, multi-floored casino that was moored alongside its sister ship, the Portuguese Queen. It had opened only a month previously and it was the first time Lucy had seen it. It was as she was about to enter that she saw Chan. She recognised him from behind: his flat arse swivelled like a woman’s when he walked. Funny, she thought, they had been together just hours before, having sex, and now they were both here! How alike they must be in some ways.

      Chan was keeping an eye on things for the Wo Shing Shing. CK was one of two partners in this new casino; the other was a prominent member of the Chinese government. Money was becoming the new Communist ideal, and Hong Kong was more than happy to wet-nurse. The milk of capitalism flowed freely from her bosom – enough for everyone.

      CK had been cultivating friendships with state councillors and prime ministers for some time. He’d been working his way up the ladder over the years and had built himself an impressive network of influential friends. He finally nailed it after the Tiananmen Square massacre. He was the only one of the prominent Hong Kong businessmen to step forward and support China’s stand.

      Lucy thought nothing of seeing Chan there: he was a VIP after all, and she knew that he was probably involved in many ventures. She watched him walk into the casino and wondered what made him tick. It remained a mystery to her why he had chosen to buy her out on the occasions he did. Surely two concubines and a wife were enough ‘face’ for the man with an erect penis the size of a middle-finger salute? He had weird tastes even by Lucy’s standards: the pretend-virgin thing wasn’t the normal, it was more rape than seduction. And ‘Daddy’, as he wanted her to call him, could certainly inflict pain, but could he take it? No way! ‘Daddy’s’ S&M games were strictly fun for one. Knowing when to stop was a definite problem.

      At the entrance to the casino Lucy caught the doorman’s eye and slipped him one hundred Hong Kong dollars. She always over-tipped the doormen. They had helped her out many times, if just to jump the taxi queue, and it was worth it. She paused for a second or two to admire the casino’s flamboyant foyer, and, as she did so, Chan turned and noticed her. He acknowledged her presence with a slight incline of his head and a curious smile, before passing through the carved mahogany doors into the Royal Palace.

      That night Lucy moved from blackjack to roulette and back to blackjack with losses that were inconceivable. Nothing stemmed the tide of money lost and the speed with which it disappeared. So strange was this catastrophic losing streak for Lucy, who, as a rule, always gained as much as she lost, that she read into it signs of the wrong kind. She began to believe that some huge win was coming her way – she only needed to keep playing – she just needed to stay in the game. But it wasn’t coming, and Lucy eventually took a loan from a triad, a massive loan that she would never be able to repay.

      It was Chan who came to her aid when her money ran out. It was Chan who gave her the loan. It was Chan who moved in on Lucy like carrion on roadkill.

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