Page 20 of Caught in the Middle

Chapter Seven

Several hours later, they pulled into a small parking lot of a dingy motel. Nowhere near as bad as the estate they stayed in last night, but it definitely didn't have a single good review on TripAdvisor.

The building was a big, oblong block of grey doom, lined with uniformed red doors, all flaking and wrecked with wood rot. A rusty, neon sign twinkled pathetically in the grizzly rain. The Sunnyside Hotel.

Sure sounds like a fun holiday destination.

Lucy wasn't exactly sure where they were, she only gathered that they were somewhere possibly in the North East of England. Oliver was very shady about giving her exact geographical detail - perhaps he thought that the less information she knew, the better. You're innocent when you're oblivious, sometimes it's just best not to know, and Lucy had learned to accept this.

The office to the building was a little box with a cracked window attacked to the side of the main building. A little plastic sign hung above the door: We Have Vacancies.

No shit, Lucy mused.

'Stay in the car whilst I book us in,' Oliver said, getting out of the driver’s seat. 'The owner is on our side...' he paused, grimacing slightly, 'but you never know. It's best he doesn't see you at all. I don't know if I a million percent trust him.'

'Why?'

'I don't know, I just have a little niggling feeling.'

Lucy did as she was told and waited patiently until Oliver emerged from the office, clutching a set of keys attached to an ugly wooden key ring.

As they climbed the metal stairs up to the second floor, Lucy realised that there was only one set of keys.

One.

'Erm...' she said, staring down at the set Oliver was spinning around his finger, 'Are we...'

He followed her gaze, and grinned. 'What's the matter, never shared a room with a man before?'

Lucy rolled her eyes, but chose not to rise to the bait.

'Sorry, sharing it is. Two different rooms is too risky. You might do a runner, you might get kidnapped... who knows,' he was grinning but Lucy knew he meant it. 'Don't worry, it's two separate beds.'

When he opened the door, she knew she wasn't to expect much, judging by the exterior, and the state of the apartment he took her to last night, but she still felt a little disappointed.

It was an absolute, depressing dump. Drab, faded floral curtains hung sorrowfully over the windows, two single beds in the middle of the room were dressed in the same fabric. The carpet was thread bare, even completely bald in some areas.

It was the kind of place Lucy could imagine girls who were trafficked were taken. Obviously the seedy owner didn't care who passed through, and in this little pit just off of the highway somewhere in Northern England, anything could happen.

She placed her little carrier bag of her new clothes, now her only possessions, on the bed furthest away from the door. She had always chosen the bed furthest away from the door anytime she stayed somewhere different, but this time she obviously had more reason than ever. She glanced over at Oliver, who clearly was trying to put on a brave face at the place.

'Probably better than your university digs still, right?' He brushed down the shoulder of his suit jacket, as if the grime of the room had started to cling to his expensive suit.

Lucy thought back to her room in her student house. Her big cosy bed, decorated with little fairy lights and endless cushions she had collected from her many trips to IKEA. She wondered about her housemates, if they were worried about her yet.

Oliver poked his head into the bathroom and laughed. 'You might want to wash in the sink, love.'

'Eurgh,' Lucy didn't even want to know. She squeezed past him and peered into the bathroom. Greeted with moulding wallpaper and a rusted yellow bath, she cringed. The one in the apartment they stayed in last night was only half as bad.

After a few minutes of poking around the dingy motel room, making quips about married men taking their prostitutes here, Oliver picked up the TV remote and flicked on the old fashioned TV. 'At least you're safe here,' he said.

They sat on their respective beds for a while, catching the end of an old episode of Friends. When it ended, the channel commentator announced that the evening news would be up next. Before Lucy could even register this, Oliver turned the channel over, to a wildlife documentary.

Her blood ran cold. This was the first time in over 24hrs she had the opportunity to get a glimpse of the news.

What if she was on it? What if there was a nationwide search for her? What if her disappearance was headline news?

Images of her parents crying, holding a press conference sprang into her mind.

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