This is a photo of the card I received from the woman I wrote about in my previous two blog posts. The woman who I suspected was in the same situation as I was. A victim of cuckooing; forced to deal drugs for a gang of drug dealers involuntarily.
I didn’t know what to do, and knew I couldn’t involve the police. But also knew that if I involved myself too much; I’d be potentially putting myself back in a dangerous predicament.
For once in my damn life, for ONCE, something actually turned out RIGHT.
After writing the post dithering over what to do, I just jumped straight in and asked her outright what was going on. Outlined my circumstances and mentioned how similar hers seemed to mine. I explained that I was hotel hopping at the moment and had nowhere permanent to live. I casually stated there was a spare bed in my hotel room. She could walk away from her abysmal circumstances right then and there.
What about my clothes?
My GHD’s though
Ebay? Second hand?
What. Walk away right this minute?
She asked, stunned
Yup. Right this minute
She gazed at me, confused? Shocked? I don’t know. But then a huge grin spread across her face. Her stooped posture, hunched shoulders and downwards gaze lifted.
C’mon then, lets go
And we went.
We left her clothes, her GHD’s and walked away. Just as I had four months ago when I fled my home town and moved to a strange city.
Of course I wasn’t so stupid as to expect rainbows and butterflies from that point onwards. I thought back to the day I walked in the opposite direction. I knew she would obsess over the hundred pound hair straighteners, panic at the thought of waking up the next day with no clean knickers to wear and become overwhelmed with sheer terror at the thought of relying solely on a stranger. Just as I had. Which is exactly what happened.
But then today she handed me a card. Written in eyeliner- because us women will always have eyeliner and no pen. She thanked me for ‘rescuing her’ and told me her story- exactly as I had predicted. We hugged and set off for Primark.