The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.) by Marnie Perry Page B

everything, where she came from, where she had been who or what she was running from. It had not been easy but Adela was nothing if not persistent. Olivia was doubtful, mistrustful and frightened. So to make her more at ease and to convince Olivia to trust her Adela had told her about her own life, about her mother and her alcoholism, about the abuse both physical and psychological she had suffered at her hands. About how she had cared for her all her life, even as a child, until she had died a few months ago.
    Olivia listened wide eyed. Adela told her story emotionlessly as if it wasn’t really important, just part of her life that had been but was no longer. But Olivia saw the deep hurt in Adela’s eyes, especially when she talked about her mother leaving everything to Adela’s brothers and nothing to her. Adela had given a little laugh when she had told her this, but Olivia saw how much it had hurt, not financially but emotionally.
    When she had finished her story Adela was silent for a moment then gave a small laugh, ‘so it’s superfluous to say that I’m not a drinker.’
    Olivia had given a weak smile in return still stunned at Adela’s story. She had thought her just another a rich tourist with too much time on her hands, taking pity on the little people, like a hobby or a distraction. It just went to show that you should never judge a book by its cover, or by other people you had been surrounded by most of your life. She was amazed that Adela had turned out as well as she had, that she had not been bitter and resentful of a life wasted. But she was the opposite, decent and kind, thoughtful and considerate of the feelings of others, concerned for their welfare and wanting to help people, like Olivia herself. She owed this woman, not just for sharing her own history but for everything she had done for her.
    She began by saying, ‘I was born in Moldova.' Adela had read somewhere that Moldova was the human trafficking capital of the world but didn't interrupt Olivia. There was just my mother and me; she was only seventeen when she had me. She was a prostitute and became pregnant by one of her clients or maybe her pimp, it’s hard to say, the fate of many young girls in my country. Her pimp was an awful, horrible, cruel man, who took more than half of what she earned. She was working every day and well into the night just to make ends meet. Then she became pregnant with me, she tried to hide it from her pimp but eventually of course he found out, she was by now four months pregnant. He was furious and ordered her to get an abortion, he would arrange for it, but she would have to work off the cost since she’d been stupid enough as to get herself pregnant in the first place.
    My mother pleaded with him, she was very religious, which is strange when you think about it because God seemed to have deserted her and her kind, but she did believe, perhaps because there was nothing else and God was someone to cling too. She always said that we all have to have faith in something or someone.’
    She looked at Adela as she said this and Adela smiled. ‘Anyway, she felt very strongly that it was against God to rid herself of her child. She had also seen other women after they had been treated by the abortionist, some could never have children even if they’d wanted them, some even died, most were very ill afterwards. She was also too far gone for it to be safe but the pimp would have not of it. My mother told me the story only to this point but it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine that he probably beat her into submission, or at least tried too.
    On the day the abortionist was due to call and perform his butchery she ran away, she walked for days into the countryside, weak and exhausted and ill, only coming out at night and eating what she could find in trash cans outside café’s and restaurants.
    She tried to find work but no one wanted to hire a pregnant woman.
    It came to the point where she made up her mind