PART NINE
“Oh (sob) Why did this happen to me? (sob) Now I’ll never be anything. (moan) It’s all Desta’s fault! (sob) If her hand hadn’t been there this wouldn’t have happened!(sob)Now I’ll be turned out of the palace(moan)and I don’t know what I shall do!(sob)”
This had been going on for about quarter of an hour and Ralf was beginning to lose patience.
“Must you? We’re trying to sleep over here!”
“I ca-an’t stop!” said the girl, who was becoming somewhat hysterical.
“Maybe we should just ignore her.” said Angele, in a tired voice. After she and Lana had been captured, they had been separated and Angele was put in a cell with Ralf who she was very glad to see again. They spent one happy day together. It would have been much happier if Connal, Jermaine and Lana had been there too. The next day they had spent worrying, and that evening a tear-soaked girl had been locked in with them. They had gathered from her lamentations that she was- or had been- a dancer, but had made a mistake of some sort and was here because of it. They had tried to feel sorry for her but it was rather difficult since they were both very tired and she didn’t give them an opportunity. They tried ignoring her for a while, they really tried, but eventually they gave up.
“What’s your name?” Asked Angele, hoping this might stop her crying.
“Chantel. (sob)”
Angele sighed, and tried again. “How old are you?” She had to speak quite loudly to make herself heard over the noise of Chantel’s crying. Chantel tried to reply, but couldn’t and therefore sobbed even louder. When she had calmed herself somewhat, Angele said in a quieter voice, “Do you need a hankie?” The girl nodded and continued crying. Angele fetched the box they had thoughtfully been provided with from the ledge in front of the mirror and gave it to Chantel.
“Thag-you” she said, pulling three hankies from the box. It appeared that the worst was over, for the only sounds from Chantel over the next few minutes was her nose being blown and occasional sobs. This soon quietened down into just sniffs. Ralf and Angele decided now would be a good time to go to sleep and were preparing to do so when the door burst open and two large, rough-looking men in grey uniforms walked in.
“You’re comin’ wiv us.” said one.
“Yup.” said the other.
“We’re trying to sleep!” said Ralf.
“Where are you taking us?” asked Angele.
“Ooh, we can’t tell you that, can we, Arthur?” said the first one, exchanging a meaningful glance with the other one, (who we shall now call Arthur).
“Nope. can’t do that, Christopher. Pris’ners aren’t ‘llowed to know that type of thing.”
“How long will it take? We’re tired and need our rest.”
“Can’t be tellin’ you that. You just come ‘long wiv us and it’ll be better for everyone.” said Christopher, smiling.
“Well I suppose you’re right.”
“But what about me?!” Wailed Chantel as the others made a move for the door.
“Ooh dear, I ‘most forgot ‘bout you. You come out the door wiv us and there’s someone for you outside, heh heh.” Said Arthur, chuckling evilly. Chantel blanched with horror at what this might mean but she followed the men and Ralf and Angele out of the door. Outside she was seized by three guards who tied her hands together and dragged her away, kicking and screaming. It was a horrible sight.
“Oi!” said Christopher, “Move faster, pris’ners!”
