Free The Trophy Taker by Lee Weeks Page A

to teach Lucy a lesson.
    After an hour of shuffling along pavements she finally reached home. She turned the key to the apartment door as quietly as she could and crept inside. There was not a sound in the stagnant gloom of the flat except the plonk plonk of the leaky kitchen tap. Ka Lei had already gone to work and Georgina was still asleep. Lucy listened to the droning of the air-conditioning unit coming from her cousin’s bedroom.
    She tiptoed into her room and sat on the edge of the bed, scared to move, frightened to make a sound in case she woke Georgina and then she might have to tell what she’d done. She couldn’t do that. She definitely couldn’t do that .
    As the hours passed she stared at the blacked-out windows of the adjacent building, seeing nothing, reliving the events of the previous evening. The light in the room changed hue. Shadows lengthened and altered shape. Somewhere outside, the sun arced in the sky, the earth turned, the universe existed, the day completed its rota. Inside the room Lucy went over the process of self-recrimination countless times. She relived the events that had led to her destruction over and over until she became quite exhausted by the process. She hovered above herself and watched herself lose and lose again. Why had she continued ? She knew why. She just couldn’t leave, not then, not when she was so down. She just needed to stay in the game, like she always did. It had happened that way so many times before: lose a lot, win a lot more. She had always come out on top – but not this time. Lady Luck had stabbed her in the back last night. Now Lucy must find a way not just to bear it, but to end it.
    Gradually, over the course of the following day, the shock subsided, until, by reworking the events in her mind, they changed shape and became something of far less consequence. She began to reassess the situation. She had survived worse – she would survive this. But now her survival was out of her hands. Lucy had unwittingly made a pact with the devil.

23

    She waited in the Dressing Room for two hours before her name was called. She knew when she followed Mamasan Linda past the dance floor that they were heading to Chan’s favourite seat. She knew he would be watching her walk the length of the club, his eyes fixed on her. She knew she had to try every trick in her book to make this work.
    ‘Hello, Ka Mei, how’s things?’ His cold eyes fixed on her face.
    It was the first time Chan had ever called Lucy by her Chinese name. It did not bode well. She was momentarily startled into letting her guard down. In the half-light she could see he was sneering rather than smiling. She looked downwards at her lap, trying to compose herself. Stick to the plan , she told herself, just as rehearsed: slightly submissive, slightly flirty – humble yet brave . She had been over this meeting a hundred times in her head.
    Chan was sprawled in his usual place, and as Lucy sat down he extended one arm so that his hand rested on the nape of her neck.
    ‘Good evening, Mr Chan,’ she said, and waited for an answer. She felt the electricity in his fingertips commute to a burning sensation as he rubbed the same spot at the base of her neck repeatedly. He was a tightened band that threatened to snap at any moment. ‘I have been a bit worried, Mr Chan,’ she said, tilting her head sideways to look at him.
    ‘Worried?’ He played along, and carried on stroking her neck. ‘Worried about what, Ka Mei?’
    Lucy summoned up all her courage. She locked her gaze on his. ‘About the money I owe you, Mr Chan.’
    Chan nodded his head slowly, deliberately, like a judge considering the gravity of the situation before passing sentence.
    ‘Yes, Lucy. You did borrow a lot of money. I hardly remember how much it was now.’ Lucy caught a glimmer of hope and looked up from her lap to see him still nodding. ‘But it was more than is prudent for a girl in your position.’
    She would do the ‘ what a silly