Free Ring Around Rosie by Emily Pattullo Page B

dancers.
    “Time to earn your keep,” Zaydain hissed in
Rosie’s ear. “Dance!”
    Rosie looked at him in horror, but seeing
the warning in his eyes she slowly started moving her body to the music. Baduwa
and Utibe did the same, never taking their startled eyes off their
surroundings. Rosie saw that there were a few small podiums dotted around the
dance floor and on each one was a huddle of girls dancing together, some shyly
and some with gusto. As she looked closer she noticed, to her horror, that they
were all wearing the same keys that she and Baduwa and Utibe were wearing. What
did it all mean?
    “Look sexy!” growled Zaydain.
    Rosie had never tried to look sexy in her
life and had no idea how, so she started moving her arms more vigorously and
nodding her head. Baduwa knew how, though, and Rosie watched as she curled and
spun around, stroking her body as she moved. She even began to look like she
was enjoying herself as a small smile played on her lips. This was what she
loved, after all, thought Rosie, to be the centre of attention and be admired
like a beautiful bird. Maybe this was where Baduwa belonged; perhaps this was a
million times better than the life she had left in Nigeria. Rosie tried to copy
some of her moves, anything to stop Zaydain scowling at her.
    Once he seemed satisfied that they were doing
the best they could, Zaydain led them to a podium and helped each of them climb
up.  Rosie suddenly felt more self-conscious and tried to hide between Baduwa
and Utibe, which, surprisingly, neither of them seemed to mind. Even Utibe was
getting into the music. Rosie wished she could find enjoyment in their
situation; it would make things so much easier, somehow. She wouldn’t have a
lead-weight in her stomach pulling her down and down, buckling her legs as they
resisted the strain.
    She suddenly noticed that the lights were
doing something to the keys around Baduwa and Utibe’s neck; they were revealing
a number that was written on them in some strange pen. She looked down at her
own and the same was happening; the number on her key was 133. Rosie looked
around them, trying to find answers in the crowd. As she did she noticed there
were a lot of eyes on them, or rather on her. A red laser shone in her eyes and
then onto her chest. She followed the beam back to a man sitting in one of the
booths and saw him nod towards another man.  Before she knew it, she was being
dragged down from the podium and ushered over to the table. She glanced back at
the terrified faces of Baduwa and Utibe as she was taken and placed in front of
the man who had shone the light on her.
    “Even better up close,” he sniffed, rubbing
his moustache. “This one’s going to need special time and attention, I’ll
reserve her for another night,” he said to the man holding onto Rosie’s arm.
The man released her arm briefly and wrote something in a book. He nodded and
then dragged Rosie away and placed her back on the podium.
    Baduwa looked questioningly at her as she
danced, but Rosie could only shrug. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Baduwa
what had happened or what was probably about to happen many times over to all
of them. For now she would let her enjoy being adored, absorbed in the music
and excitement of somewhere new. It was only a matter of time before the
comforting wall of blissful ignorance came crashing down and Baduwa would feel the
same complete and utter terror that Rosie now felt as her body convulsed with
wave upon wave of nausea, as if someone had reached down into her stomach and
was pulling it out through her mouth. 

Chapter 10
     
    The city still held the same excitement for
Ted, despite the circumstances, and he felt confident as he strode through the
streets of Soho, following the directions that Mrs M had given them. They
passed one of their favourite bars and each of them looked longingly in the
window, wishing they were there for the casual, carefree nights they used to
have. So much seemed to