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wrap up the deal in the
next hour, he could catch the midday express back to Port
Sudan.
Ali was smiling happily. He knew Hafiq was
edgy after a five-day wait. With a bit of luck, he would be so keen
to get back to his home on the coast that, he would not be
over-zealous about bargaining.
As they walked smartly along the road to the
big warehouse at the edge of the town, Ali pondered that while
money was short, time was free. If he played his cards right, he
might be able to push for a 10% increase in price.
They skirted the market, dodging cattle and
carts loaded with vegetables. An unusually large crowd was
gathering around a low wooden platform. Loud cheers and raucous
whistles made Hafiq pause. For a moment he didn’t believe his
eyes.
It was a girl. She was wearing the remains of
a ragged T-shirt and not much else. A pair of ripped Bermudas lay
at her feet. Although she was covered with mud and dust, Hafiq
could see patches of pink and white skin. Two men were holding her
up; showing her to the crowd that had gathered.
Without thinking, Hafiq pushed his case into
Ali’s hands and joined the crowd. Pushing his way through to the
front, he took a good look at her. She was definitely white. And
angry.
“Get the fuck off me!”
And English by the sound of her accent.
The auctioneer was trying to cut the t-shirt
away with a knife while avoiding being kicked.
She was a brave girl, Hafiq noted. While the
auctioneer hacked at her clothes, another man held on to a chain
linked to a metal collar round her neck with one hand and to a rope
halter that bound her elbows high and tight behind her back with
the other. It must have hurt but she lashed out anyway.
Hafiq was overwhelmed by a wave of lust. He
had sent Ngam packing three months ago. Beautiful, submissive,
eager to please and very, very boring Ngam. In contrast, this girl
oozed passion. Hafiq was certain she’d never be dull. He felt a
powerful urge to possess her.
The knife finally did its work. The t-shirt
ripped away, revealing perfect round breasts. Swearing furiously,
the girl took her attention off the auctioneer and kicked backwards
at his partner. She might as well have kicked an elephant for all
the harm it did. Grinning, he lifted her up until she stood on her
tiptoes, preventing her from kicking. The auctioneer took a
cautionary step sideways but loudly continued to proclaim her
charms.
“Untouched! A virgin! A bargain for any
discerning buyer!” He spoke Arabic, the common language of commerce
but his accent spoke clearly of his Nubian home in the north.
“How much?” Hafiq asked.
The auctioneer turned to him with a wide
grin. “This girl is not for sale, boss!”
“Then why the sales pitch?”
“We are selling the girl’s favours! What
would you pay to be her first?”
Hafiq laughed. “She? A virgin? If that’s so,
she’s the only one in Atbara!”
The auctioneer giggled, an odd sound for such
a big man. “It’s true! I swear it on my mother’s grave. We haven’t
touched her, have we, Khalil?”
From the way the two men giggled, Hafiq
realised they were homosexual. Instinctively he drew away, then
realised the advantage of the situation. The girl would be
unharmed.
“We don’t want her for ourselves,” the
auctioneer leered, “and there isn’t enough money in all Atbara to
buy a girl like this but we are businessmen! There will be many
customers, each willing to pay to possess her for a little
time.”
Hafiq looked at the girl again. She stood
totally still, staring at him. For a moment he was confused by the
look in her eyes. They were dark green, he noted. The way she was
looking at him, it was like she was asking him for help.
Idris, the auctioneer, grinned as he took in
Hafiq’s interest in the girl, his gold watch and finally the Vector
SMG hanging from his shoulder. This was a man with money.
Idris rubbed his hands together in
anticipation. It had been the impulse of a moment to take the girl
after she been
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley