A cabby's story.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

Bob had been a London taxi driver for more than 20 years and thought he had seen everything. But even he was surprised by something that happened recently.

One evening before the rush when the theatres finished, he was cruising down a street looking for a fare when a girl ran out of a terraced house and stumbled into the road right in front of his cab. Bob just managed to stop in time. The girl picked herself up, realised that it was a taxi and got in.

“You nearly got yourself killed then. You want to take more care. Where do you want to go to, love?”

“Anywhere away from that terrible man!”

Bob could see in his mirror that the girl was distraught, but by then there were vehicles behind, so he drove on a couple of blocks until he could safely stop at the side of the street. Then he turned to look more closely at his passenger.

She seemed to be early twenties, tanned complexion, black hair. Her heavy makeup was smeared and her clothes were dishevelled with her blouse open revealing a pair of young firm breasts.

“Are you OK? Do you need to go to a hospital, or police station?”

“No! No!”

“I'd better take you home, then. Where do you live?”

“Liverpool.”

“No. I mean where are you staying in London?”

No answer.

“Do you have any money?”

“He took my purse.”

Bob didn't know where he could take her. A woman's hostel? Or the YWCA? Then he had an idea. A neighbour of his was a kindly woman who ran a small B&B. He called her on his cab phone.

“Hello, Betty. Bob here. Got a problem.” He explained briefly what had happened.

“OK. You'd better bring her here. I'll see what I can do to help.”

A few minutes later, Bob and Betty almost had to carry the girl into the house. She was incoherent and still plainly terrified. She did not seem to be injured and Betty was soon giving her a cup of tea and trying to reassure her that she was safe from whoever she was fleeing from and that she was not going to be taken to the police or hospital.

“I'd better get back on my shift,” said Bob, “I'll pop round in the morning. Give me a call if you need me.”

After a late night, Bob did not get round to Betty's until about 10 o'clock next morning.

“Hello, Betty. How is she?”

“Still asleep. But I managed to have a good long chat with her last night and learned quite a bit about her. But first of all, you'll be surprised to know that “She” is a “He”. He was born in the Vietnam but lost both parents and his only sister in a ferry disaster when he was 10. He was looked after by an unscrupulous uncle who went to live in Thailand and took him with him. He was soon involved in a vice ring. As a pre-pubescent boy, they castrated him so that he later became one of Bangkok's ladyboys and lived as a female called Lika. Although her handlers tried to take away all her earnings, she managed to hide some away and eventually saved enough to buy an air ticket to England where she contacted a friend in Liverpool. She lived there illegally after her visitors' visa expired. Needing money, she came to London as a prostitute but was soon taken over and managed by a man who abused her. That was the guy she was fleeing from last night.”

Bob had to go home and clean and check his cab for his next shift and Betty nipped out to the local super market to do some urgent shopping. When she returned, there was no sign of Lika but she had even tidied up the room she had slept in.

There was little they could do to check that Lika was al-right. Bob drove down the street where he had first seen her but it was a terrace of a dozen or more almost identical houses and it had been dark so he didn't know which. In any case he might have had a hostile reception if he started asking for her.

However, about three weeks later, Betty found an envelope stuffed through her letterbox. Inside was a brief letter and two  £20 notes. “I'm OK and safe. Here is some money for the taxi and your hospitality. Thank you both for being such good samaritans. Lika.” There was no address.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.

February 2013

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