Trafficked

By Kim Hunter

An affair that begins in a closed communist country and has little chance of survival. Lai Seo-Yeon is so determined to be with her lover Jamie that she will go to any lengths to reach England. Desperation will lead her to be trafficked and begin a journey so horrific, it will scar them both forever. Kipper O'Donnel is a true Romany gypsy who by no fault of his own, find himself in London. There he meets local drug addict Ally Finch and falls deeply in love. When tragic events lead to heartbreak, Kipper vows to seek his revenge. Even though Kipper and Jamie's paths will never cross, both lives will be devastated by one man, Sir Ramsey Meade. Trafficking, drugs, bare knuckle fighting and murder will push all the characters just about as far as is humanly possible. What chance can any of them hope for. Trafficked is gripping, sometimes funny but mostly heartbreaking as it covers the journey of one woman over two continents. Readers will travel with the characters through depths of despair and will feel the heartbreak of all those involved in this tragic tale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kim Hunter
• Release date: Jan 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301551538

Kim Hunter

Kim Hunter was born Norfolk and brought up in a small close knit family. She lives quietly with her English bull terrier Frankie.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

From the moment James Livingston-Smyth came kicking and screaming into this world his life had been mapped out in every conceivable detail.  He was to be enrolled as a day boy at the local prep school, move on to public school and then after a short stint at university, would join the army, just as his father had done and his father before him.

Always wanting to please, James had gone along with the family's plans but the thought of university scared him to death.  He'd been right in his assumption and even though he saw out his time there with no complaint, no one was happier than he, when it was at last over.  He was a quiet sort, who found the never-ending circle of parties and getting drunk boring and in all honesty, a waste of time.

As was customary in his family, he'd enrolled at Sandhurst at the age of twenty-one.  By the time he reached his twenty-fifth year, James was a Lieutenant leading and commanding a unit of thirty soldiers.  Joining the intelligence corps had been his personal choice and one that was readily accepted by his father.

Compared to university, Sandhurst had been a different matter altogether.  He excelled in every area of his training and made several lifelong friends.  His love of the forces ran so deeply, that James decided to become an instructor himself and he was dearly loved by every recruit that had passed through his hands.  The army was his life and when he was repeatedly asked by his father to leave and continue the family tradition of entering the law profession, his answer was always the same, a pleasant but firm 'No'.  George Livingston-Smyth was old school and after his mandatory army career, had taken to law like a duck to water.  Swiftly moving up the ladder in his chosen profession, George soon worked his way up to the position of barrister then QC and was eventually invited to join the bench as a judge.  He continued to hope that one day his son would follow in his footsteps.  As far as James or Jamie as he preferred to be called, was concerned, that would never be an option.  Returning from his last tour of Iraq, everyone noticed the change in him.  Where before, he was strong and outgoing, Jamie now had a cynical view of life.  Dark mood swings would be followed by bouts of depression that could last for several weeks.  His father recognised the signs, though the army would never accept that he was suffering from post-traumatic stress.  The family all tip-toed around him but it was something his superiors weren't prepared to do.  They were about to post him on permanent desk duty but luckily for Jamie, he would never become privy to that fact.  Hopeful that he would be a soldier till the day he died, a turn of events would see him quickly change his mind.  That change would happen, the instant he laid eyes on Amelia Foster.  Amelia or Amy as everyone knew her, worked as a part-time barmaid at the Green Lion pub which was situated a short distance from the intelligence core barracks in Chicksands Bedfordshire.  The two had quickly become an item and whenever Jamie was on leave the couple were inseparable.  Amy had been raised on a local council estate and was not the type of girl the Livingston-Smyth's looked upon as daughter-in-law material.  To Jamie she was perfect and the most wonderful caring person he had ever met.  Everything came to a head, the weekend he took his girlfriend home to Goring in Berkshire to meet the family.  After a strained introduction, dinner took place around a large mahogany table and the atmosphere was awkward, to say the least.

James's two sisters, Lucinda and Poppy, had been summoned down from the city to inspect the girl and Lucinda being more like her mother, had openly sniggered when she first set eyes on Amy.  Denim jeans and a hoodie, were not the correct attire when meeting a boyfriend's parents but somehow Amy had been oblivious to that fact.  On the other hand, Poppy Livingston-Smyth was a student and much more like her brother than anyone else in the family.  Amy's friendliness and warmth were an instant hit with Poppy but she could still see that her newfound friend was going to have a battle on her hands snaring Jamie, at least as far as her overbearing parents were concerned.  Amy tried her hardest over the meal and asked Mrs Celia Livingston-Smyth about her many committees and charities but all questions were met with either a curt yes or no.  Celia had no intention of being friendly.  She adored her son and had always dreamed of him marrying into an honourable family, not to some girl who resembled one of the types you saw on television.  The type who was wanted in connection with some mugging or heaven forbid, something even worse.  For goodness sake, the girl didn't even know how to speak properly!  Finally with the meal over George asked his son to join him in the snooker room and Amy was hurriedly ushered into the drawing-room by Celia and Lucinda.  Poppy dutifully followed but she wasn't looking forward to the grilling that she knew would be inevitable.

So James, how are things with you?

Fine thanks Dad, what do you think of Amy? Isn’t she beautiful?

George swallowed hard, he didn't want to upset his son but all the same, the truth had to be told.

She seems like a nice girl James but I’m at a loss as to why you’ve brought her home.  I mean it’s not as if it’s anything serious now is it?

The question was rhetorical and it incensed James more than he could ever have imagined.

Not Serious!  Of course, it is.  Why do you think I've sat in a car for almost two hours to get here for the weekend if things weren't serious?

My dear boy you still have so much to learn.  Now I realise that you are doing well in the forces and all men have to sow their wild oats, so to speak.  Lord above knows, I did my fair share of that before I met your mother but when it comes to settling down.

When it comes to settling down what?

Jamie was starting to become angry, his expression spoke volumes and what should have been a happy father-and-son chat, was becoming increasingly strained.  George Livingston-Smyth exhaled deeply.

Well James, there is a type to marry and a type to have fun with and I'm afraid I have to say, that the young woman you've brought home is the latter.

How dare you!

Now don’t take that tone with me young man.  We all have silly flights of fancies from time to time but you’re fast approaching the age when you need to start thinking about settling down and producing an heir.

Produce an heir!  I'm not some prized stallion being set up to service a well-matched mare!

My dear boy, we all have a duty to fulfil and the Livingston-Smyth stock needs to be continued.

James threw his snooker cue down hard onto the table.

For God’s sake will you just listen to yourself?

It's you who needs to listen.  Your mother and I haven't spent; well lord above knows how much money on your education, just for you to throw it all away on some little gold digger.  We always hoped you might look favourably at Clarissa Traybourne.  Now there is a family that is well respected and upright in the community.

James walked towards the door and grabbing the handle turned to face his father.

Yes Father, they are so fucking upright it's as if they've all got broom handles stuck up their arses.

James!

Now it is time for you to listen!  I will marry Amy, no matter what you and my mother think, say or try to do.  It's your choice if you come to the wedding or not but quite frankly I don't give a damn either way.  Oh! and one last thing before we go, I've quit the army and I leave at the end of the month.  I think we'll set the date for around that time, and then it can be a double celebration.

With that James Livingston-Smyth left the room and slammed the door as he went.  Sitting opposite James’s mother and being questioned mercilessly, Amy was just about at the end of her tether when her boyfriend finally entered the room.

Get your coat, honey, we're leaving.

Instantly Celia was on her feet.  She could see that things hadn’t gone well between her husband and son but she wasn’t about to let her son go without some answers.

James darling what on earth happened?

Grabbing Amy’s arm, Jamie frogmarched her towards the door.

Mother you know bloody well what's happened and to tell the truth right at this moment I can't bear to look at you, let alone speak to you.  I'm sure Father will soon bring you up to speed with all the gory details.

Poppy held up her thumb and little finger to her ear, in a gesture that said 'Call me' and her brother winked in his younger sister's direction, before once more slamming the door.  Amy was shocked at the way he'd acted but she waited until they were in the car and he'd calmed down before she spoke.

So are you going to share what went on, or are you keeping it locked up inside so you’ll be uptight for the rest of the evening?

Jamie decided to miss out on most of what had been said, after all a few white lies were better than hurting her.

It's not as bad as it seems.  My parents don't want me to leave the army and they also think I'm too young to be getting married.

Too young!  So what did you tell them?

To go to hell!

Jamie!

What?

You shouldn’t speak to your Mum and Dad like that.  Your family seem such nice people even if they are a little on the nosey side.

He couldn't help but laugh at her last sentence; she had no clue as to what the Livingston-Smyth's were really like.

Darling do you mind if we don't talk about it anymore, we have a wedding to plan.  Now let's get as far away from this poxy place as we can.

A week after leaving the army James secured work at Hearn Hardcastle & Myers.  The company first established in 1870, was reputable, with a good turnover and situated in the heart of the city.  It traded in mostly high-end commodities and had many high-profile clients but it might as well have been a corner shop, as far as James's father was concerned.  All George could see, was that James was working beneath himself and he would always look down on his son's chosen career.  Exactly four weeks to the day that James Livingston-Smyth had fallen out with his family, he married Amelia Foster.  Their special day was nothing extravagant and turned out to be a small registry office ceremony just as the bride had asked for.  Amy looked stunning.  The short white dress she'd chosen suited her petite figure and the fresh flowers in her long dark hair, framed her face, giving her an angelic appearance. James's two old comrades Rex Barrington and Leo Folds-Tate acted as ushers and his closest friend Michael Sinclair was a witness. The four had all been close while training at Sandhurst and even though James and Michael had now left the army, they all swore solemnly to stay in contact.  It was Michael Sinclair who had found James the job at Hearn Hardcastle & Myers and the two spoke daily.

Tall and with his sandy-coloured hair and chiselled good looks, Jamie had many of the female congregation wishing they could be the ones standing next to him.  During the ceremony, James Livingston-Smyth scanned the room and was elated when he spied his mother, father and sister Poppy sitting at the back of the church.  He would later learn, that Lucinda declined the invitation, for reasons that she was too busy at work but in reality, had confided to her sister, that the whole thing was beneath her and far too common.  As expected the small reception was held at The Green Lion.  Amy couldn't think of anywhere more special, after all, it was the place where she had first met Jamie and fallen in love.  Barry Ledbetter the landlord had been so honoured that he'd offered to lay on a basic spread free of charge.  This was a welcome gesture as James wasn't yet earning the big salary that Michael assured him would soon follow.  Pulling up outside the pub, Jamie noticed his father leaning on the rear of his Bentley, having a cigarette.  Celia and Poppy were now seated inside the car and one look at his mother's face told James that she had no intention of getting out and congratulating her son.

Michael, take Amy inside would you?  I just need to have a word with my father.

Michael Sinclair knew all about the Livingston-Smyth's and how over the years, they had tried their hardest to push their snobby upper-class views onto their son.

Sure thing mate.

But Jamie it’s our wedding reception, shouldn’t you ask your parents to come inside?

Honey there’s no way they’re going to do that.  Now please just go in and I’ll see you in a couple of minutes.

Doing as she was asked, Amy could see that her husband of just a few minutes was deeply hurt and she wished with all her heart, that there didn’t have to be this silly class divide.  Walking towards the Bentley James knew what was going to be said, it had been the same all of his life but for once instead of arguing, he just wanted it over and done with.

Hello, Dad.

Glancing into the car, he didn’t even acknowledge his mother but he couldn’t help but wink in Poppy’s direction.

Hello, James.  So you've gone through with it then!

Look, Dad.  Just say whatever it is you've come to say will you, only there are people inside who care about us and I need to be with them.

The look of hurt on his father’s face, instantly made James wish that he could take back the words.

I’m sorry I didn’t mean that but for God’s sake Dad, this is supposed to be the happiest day of my life.  If you can’t feel the same way then why have you come here?

Because you’re my only son and there was no way that I wouldn’t be here on the day that you got married.  Whether I agree with it or not is a different matter.  Are you happy Son?

Happier than I’ve been in the whole of my life.

That’s all I wanted to hear.

George Livingston-Smyth pushed a long white envelope into his son’s palm.

What’s this?

Just a little something to make life easier, I know it’s expensive living in London.

But we already have a flat in the Barbican.

Yes I'm aware of that James, I'm also aware that you are just starting in life as a couple and the rent on that place must be at least a thousand pounds a month.

More!

Exactly.  Now you should get back to your wife and we should be leaving, you know how your mother gets if the traffic is too heavy.

James hugged his father as if his life depended on it.  This wasn't how he'd envisaged his wedding day to be but still, his father's words meant the world to him.  As he watched the Bentley pull away, a single tear dropped onto his lapel.  Looking down, James saw the envelope that he was now gripping so tightly, had become scrunched up in his hand.  Slowly he tore open the flap and removed a cheque for twenty-five thousand pounds.  To most, the sum would have seemed huge but to James, well for the whole of his life, money had always been on tap whenever he'd wanted or needed it.  No, this had nothing to do with the amount; this had to do with the fact that his parents hadn't disowned him.  They had wanted him to know, that no matter what he did in life, whether they agreed with it or not, they would always be there for him.  The gesture made the meeting with his parents now seem not so sad; he just wished his mother could have at least gotten out of the car and wished them both well.  Back inside The Green Lion things were getting into full swing.  Members of James's unit past and present had dropped in to wish the couple well and when they took to the floor for their first dance as man and wife, James felt as though his heart would explode with happiness.  Mr and Mrs Jamie Smith spent their first week of married life in a small hotel on the Suffolk coast.  It didn't matter to either of them that they weren't in some exotic place, after all for most of that week, they didn't venture out of their room.

Life moved along at a swift pace and before they knew it, the couple were celebrating their first anniversary.  James was quickly promoted through the ranks at Hearn Hardcastle & Myers.  His potential hadn't gone unnoticed by the other partners and when he was offered the position of department manager, with a view to making junior partner in the not-too-distant future, he leapt at the chance.  To celebrate, Amy made a special dinner to which Michael Sinclair and his girlfriend Annie were invited.  After the meal, the foursome were relaxing with a glass of champagne, when the telephone suddenly burst into life.  Amy answered and was momentarily taken back when she heard James's mother on the other end.  This was the first time Celia Livingston-Smyth had spoken to her daughter-in-law since their initial meeting over a year ago.  Amy waited for some kind of sarcasm or at the least rudeness but she was momentarily shocked by the woman's tone.

Hello Amy my dear, lovely to hear your voice, how are you both keeping?

F f f f fine thank you Mrs Livingston-Smyth.

Oh come now dear, there’s no need to stand on ceremony, please call me mother.

It was an involuntary reaction but for some reason, Amy started to giggle.  Celia ignored what she was hearing and politely asked to talk to her son.  Amy didn't speak and could only shake her head in amazement, as she passed the telephone over to her husband.  James looked bewildered but when he heard his mother's voice, walked into the kitchen to take the call.  Michael Sinclair glared quizzically with his eyes in Amy's direction but all she could do was shrug her shoulders.  Five minutes later James emerged from the kitchen puffing out his cheeks and shaking his head from side to side.

What did she want?

You’re never going to believe this but they only want to give us the gatehouse in Goring.

What move away from London and all our friends?

Don’t panic honey, I haven’t given her an answer yet.

Michael Sinclair interrupted the conversation.

Well, I think it's a fantastic gesture.  I mean bloody hell, there aren't many people who get given a house and besides it's not too far to commute.  I think you should snatch their hands off, mate.

Maybe but you don't know them like I do.  We'll have to give this a lot of thought.

There really wasn't that much to consider, the offer would allow the couple to save and have all the things that they'd planned for in the future.

Three months after Celia Livingston-Smyth's initial phone call, saw Jamie and Amy move into the small but comfortable gatehouse on the edge of Ashworth manor, the home that James's parents had occupied for over thirty years.  It took a while to adjust but just as James had hoped, everything turned out for the best.  Over the next couple of years, George and Celia came to care for their daughter-in-law deeply.  Lucinda however, was never able or even tried to bond with Amy and only tolerated her sister-in-law for the sake of keeping the peace.  It was a different story when it came to Poppy Livingston-Smyth.  She came home to visit more often now that she had a friend and it was something that pleased her mother.  George's fondness of his daughter-in-law was for entirely different reasons to that of his wife.  In Amy, the young slip of a girl, whom he had at first looked so badly upon, he saw a rare and special quality.  The quality of being able to make people instantly love her and bring happiness to everyone added to the fact that she had been the only one able to restore calm to his beloved family, would make him eternally grateful to her.

CHAPTER TWO

Two Blissful Years Later

James Livingston-Smyth paced the floor with frustration as he called up to his wife for the third time.

Amy if you’re not down in two minutes then I’m leaving without you.

Seconds later and as if by magic his wife appeared.  As she descended the staircase he smiled, his wife seemed to get more beautiful every time he saw her.  Standing on tip toes she gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

Jamie you do get your knickers in a twist sometimes.  We have loads of time before your train leaves, so just calm down.

But Amy!  You’re always.....

Again she kissed him, only this time it was with passion, a passion that had her husband reciprocating in seconds.

The scenario was the same, every morning from Monday through until Friday; James would drop his wife off at the small estate agents where she worked as a receptionist before continuing to the station to catch the eight-thirty train to London.  The daily journey took roughly an hour and a half and he used that time to try and plan his day.  In reality, his mind would continually drift to thoughts of Amy.  To Jamie his wife was like a drug he couldn't seem to get enough of and he thanked God every day for bringing her to him.  Amy only worked part-time at Rush& Co and after a morning's work, would happily walk the mile home to their gatehouse.  It had become a daily ritual, that before she started to prepare the evening meal, she would take a stroll up to the main house for tea with her mother-in-law.  Today was turning out to be a bit nerve-wracking and if her instincts were right, then she would have something special to share.  For several days now she'd woken up feeling ill but until now had been able to hide it from her husband.  The very reason she was late this morning was due to the sickness, which was rapidly becoming part of her daily routine.  After kissing Jamie and watching him roar off in the direction of the station, Amy popped into the local chemist.  Hattie Bamber had been serving in the place since Jamie was a child and a bigger gossip you would be hard-pressed to find.

Morning Amy, how can I help you today?

Amy dreaded asking for a tester but the chemist was so old-fashioned that everything was kept on shelves behind the counter, so she had little choice.

Hello Hattie, I’d like a testing kit please.

Oh sweetheart, am I to believe there’s a happy event on the horizon?

Amy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment but she deliberately didn't answer the woman's question, instead she just smiled.  If things turned out as hoped, then Hattie informing the village of the Livingston-Smyth's impending arrival wouldn't matter but if she was wrong, then Amy was going to have a lot of explaining to do.  Sixty minutes later, saw her tea break spent locked away in the toilet.  Reading the instructions carefully, Amy's hands shook as she read the results.  When she realised that it was positive, she stifled the excited scream that was so desperate to escape.  The rest of the morning dragged and when one o'clock at last arrived, Amy was out of the door as quick as a flash.  Holding her head high, she felt as though her world couldn't get any better and knew that the news would cement her position in the family.  Leaving the village, Amy Livingston-Smyth at last turned into Drovers Lane.  The road was quiet all but for the sound of birdsong and she glanced around her at the fantastic trees that were now bathed in glorious sunlight.  She didn't know whether it was her mood but somehow everything looked even more beautiful than it normally did.  Amy was so close to home and so deep in thought, that she didn't see or hear the car that came round the bend as if from nowhere.  The driver, a local lad named Alfie Day, was like so many others of his age who think they're all of a Formula One standard.  By the time he saw Amy Livingston-Smyth, it was too late.  An almighty bang erupted and the girl, who everyone fell in love with as soon as they met her, was thrown high into the air.  The driver was going so fast that it took him fifty yards to finally come to a stop.  Time seemed to stand still as Alfie's heart beat rapidly in his chest and it felt as though any minute it would burst right out.  Finally he at last plucked up the courage to step from the car and walk back along the lane.  Standing over Amy's broken body, Alfie glanced in both directions to see if anyone had been witness to the accident.  For a second and it was only a second, he contemplated driving off but something inside wouldn't allow him to do so.  Kneeling beside her he studied her face and she looked for all intent and purpose as if she were asleep.  Noticing how her head was unnaturally lying to one side and with her legs bent in the wrong direction, he realised that Amy was severely injured if not dead.  The shock made him fall to the grass and vomit every last content that his stomach contained.  Several seconds later, when he at last felt able, Alfie hauled himself up onto his feet.  Breathing rapidly he slowly made his way along the drive of Ashworth Manor.  His steps were heavy and laborious and by the time he reached the house, he felt near to fainting.  Summoning up as much strength as he could and with both fists, he pounded heavily on the large oak door.  Unusually George didn't have court that day and was seated in the kitchen enjoying a sandwich with his wife.  A second before, Celia had placed Amy's tea onto the table and was looking forward to her daughter-in-law's daily visit.

Who on earth can that be George?

I haven’t a clue but they had better have a damn good reason for banging on the door so hard.

As he made his way along the hallway George was suddenly overcome with a feeling of foreboding.  Finally reaching the heavy oak door he didn't want to open it, a sixth sense told him that if he did, then his life was never going to be the same again.  The sight that greeted him took George by surprise.  Alfie Day stood with his head hung low, tears streamed down his face and his colour was ashen.

Whatever’s the matter boy?

I’m so sorry Mr Livingston, I’m so very, very sorry.

Sorry, for what boy? I don't have a clue what you're talking about.

Alfie couldn't say anymore and instead just pointed in the direction of the road.  Then and there George knew that whatever it was, it was something terrible.  He took small cautious steps at first and then from out of nowhere he began to run, run as if his very life depended on it.  Celia Livingston-Smyth reached the front door just in time to see her husband disappear around the corner of the drive.  Alfie was now kneeling on the floor and bending down she gently helped him to his feet.  She was about to invite him inside when she was stopped by a terrible piercing scream.

Oh my God whatever’s going on?

Alfie Day couldn't speak; instead, he flung his arms around her neck and sobbed uncontrollably.  In the lane, George Livingston-Smyth bent down and scooped up the frail body of his daughter-in-law.  Slowly walking back to the house, he never once took his eyes off her face.  Amy's bones were broken in many places and blood seeped from a wound at the back of her head but her beautiful angelic face was untouched.  As he approached the house, Celia was still comforting Alfie and her husband should have been ranting and raving that the boy was a murderer.  His shock was such, that he just walked straight past her and carried Amy into the sitting room.  Laying her on the sofa, George noticed how peaceful she looked and sitting down beside her, he gently pushed away the stray hairs that had fallen onto her cheek.

I’ve called an ambulance George; they’ll be here in a minute.

It's too late for that Celia I'm afraid, far too late.

As the paramedics pulled up in front of the house, the telephone suddenly burst into life and in a daze Celia Livingston-Smyth walked robotically into the hall and picked up the receiver.

"Hello Mrs Livingston, Hattie Bamber here.  I’ve just called to congratulate you on your good news; it’s just what the village