After Mrs Duckworth and the two guards had come and collected all my belongings I was left in my room. Alone. With nothing. Well, nothing except a bar of soap, a small towel, some toilet paper, the furniture and the vibrator. But none of those things would entertain me right now, so I had only my thoughts. Thoughts of David were still very much occupying my mind. Not just because I'd just lost virginity to a man I'd thought was someone else, but because so far David had provided my most likely form of escape. All of my potential plans revolved around him in some way. If he wasn't who I had thought, then I had nothing. No way of escape.
Once my initial anger had burnt off I began thinking more clearly. I had been
so
sure that David must be the son of the evil Mr Sòng the owner. There were so many little clues which had pointed to that. Had that been wishful thinking? It must have been. Why would Mrs Duckworth lie about such a thing?
Trust no one.
Huyen had said. Okay. So what did I know?
Not a damn thing. Technically Mrs Duckworth hadn't even said David
was
the owner, just that his father wasn't. Jennifer had, of course, but Jennifer could be wrong... right?
Here I was, wishful thinking again.
Well, I could still look at what evidence I had. Oh for a pen and paper right now. Time to work with what I had. I grabbed the tiny towel and laid it on one half of the bed. Towel could be evidence David was bad evil owner, bed could be evidence David wasn't bad evil owner. I grabbed the roll of toilet paper and tore off squares to use as counters. One piece for every scrap of evidence.
It crossed my mind how ridiculous I'd look to anyone watching the camera in the smoke alarm above my bed right now. Who watched those cameras? David had them, or at least mine, hooked up to his phone. Well, that could be evidence he was in charge, but he mentioned he'd disabled some because he didn't like being watched. Was he just referring to the security guards or someone above him? And speaking of not liking being watched... the camera right above my bed worked. If he was okay with what he did to me there being seen, exactly what wasn't he okay with being seen doing? And why mention the blind spots to me at all? That was valuable information for someone who wanted to escape. I looked at the square of toilet paper in my hands, tore it in two and placed half a square on the bed and half on the towel. Not a great start.
I worked my way backwards. He knew the laundry system. Well, any teacher might. But he claimed he disapproved of how it was done. He could be lying, it could have been his idea, but if he was not lying... this was no good. Same conclusion as last time. Half a square for "someone under him made the decision and he let them" on the towel and half a square for "someone above him made the decision" on the bed.
Before then, my "remedial massage class" was listed on my timetable as "remedial Mandarin." But no, even that was useless. Though he might well have been trying to hide from someone above him what he was doing, equally he might not want other teachers to know what he was up to with me.
I threw my remaining pieces of toilet paper down on the bed and flopped down. Now what?
I could cover the cameras in my room. I had toilet paper and water. I knew where the cameras were. I could wet the toilet paper and press it over the sensor and smoke detector. But to what end? I could time how long it took them to do something about it, which would give me an indication of how closely the cameras were being monitored, but it would reveal too much too soon. For a start, they'd know I knew where the cameras were. Possibly install others-- if there wasn't a third camera in here David hadn't mentioned already.
If I got a hold of David's phone, would it be possible to work out where the blind spots were and plot an escape route?
If I got a hold of David's phone, I would be better off calling the police than trying to find the blind spots. Blind spots were useless when I still had guards, locked doors and barbed-wire topped walls to consider.
I'd gotten no further when lunch was delivered by one of the guards.
Lunch consisted of the following items:
- A plastic tray,
- A paper serviette,
- A paper bowl filled with luke-warm soup,
- A plastic tea spoon
- A bread roll,
- A plastic cup full of fruit Salad,
- And a plastic fork.
The soup wasn't bad. It would have been good if it had been hot. It looked like there was probably truth to the story about why we weren't allowed hot liquids; would pens now be banned forever? And what about everything else? Would we just be naked from now on? Would we get our pillows and blankets back? I didn't fancy sleeping tonight without either.
After eating I looked over my new possessions. The guard would come back for the tray and rubbish, but you wouldn't expect them to go through the rubbish. The cup the fruit salad was in would be useful if they were to keep me in here for any length of time. I went to the sink in the en suite and rinsed it out. Now I had a perfectly fine drinking glass. I filled it with water from the tap and drank. I could also keep my toothbrush in it as they'd taken my toothbrush holder. Wait, they'd taken my toothbrush and toothpaste as well. How was I to brush my teeth? Hopefully, I'd get those back tonight, or at least soon. We couldn't go any length of time without brushing our teeth.
I went back to the bedroom and looked over the rubbish. While the fork had broken in an attempt to spear a piece of rockmelon, the spoon was sturdy. Could it be useful? Possibly. I went back to the sink and cleaned it and popped it in the cup.
Now what?
Nothing.
I took the napkin and tried to see if I could still remember how to fold an origami crane. I could not.
A while later the guard came for the tray. He picked it up and then looked at me.
"There's a cup and spoon missing," he said. Bugger!
"Oh, I thought I could use them in the bathroom, " I replied casually.
"No."
So I fetched them and returned them to the tray. The guard gave the tray another look and then left without so much as a goodbye.
Now what?
Nothing.
Bored didn't begin to cover it.
I tried pacing.
I tried star jumps.
I tried platting my hair in different styles.
Bored. Mind numbingly bored.
The door opened. Another guard with a tray. Finally tea time! He put the tray down and there was an apple and a bran muffin.
"Afternoon tea," he said. Only afternoon tea, not even the evening yet. No clock and a lack of windows had really screwed with my perception of time. I took another look at the guard and thought I recognised him as the one who had made the decision to let me keep my vibrator. Though I wasn't thankful, no point in putting on a show for the cameras, he might be more talkative than some of the others.
"How long are we confined to our rooms for?" I asked, "When do we go back to classes?"
"No idea," he said. "Mr Sòng will need to make that decision."
"He's on a plane right now, isn't he?" I asked, "Do you know when he lands?"
"You'll go back to classes when Mr Sòng decides it," the guard said. "I can't tell you more than that."
"Can you tell me anything about him? Mr Sòng?"
"Like what?" The guard's eyes darted for the door. I guessed he didn't really have time to talk so I tried to be straight to the point."
"He's the owner, isn't he? He's in charge here, right?"
"Of this Academy, yes."
"And there's no one above him?"
"The decision to go back to classes is his. You looking to appeal to a higher authority?"
"No, that is, not over this, but generally speaking--"
"Generally speaking, stay on his good side, if you can. I've got other rooms to do."
Well, I'd gotten something out of him at least. David evil owner. Was he nice if you were on his "good side?" Did Jennifer and the others somehow get on his bad side, to fear him so? I picked up my muffin and broke it in half. Bran muffins were perfectly fine hot and spread with plenty of butter. But this one was cold and there was no butter. Still, eating was better than not eating.
Afternoon tea was soon finished. I extracted the seeds from the apple core, washed them and put them on some toilet paper to dry. The guard who collected my tray was a different one and of the non-chatty variety. He didn't inspect my apple for seeds so now I had pilfered apple seeds. I filled the hours of boredom between afternoon tea and tea by inventing various games to play with my apple seeds, which mostly involved flicking them onto targets.
Tea arrived. Luke-warm soup and fruit salad, same as lunch, but when I picked up the plastic spoon it felt thicker than before. On investigation, I saw it was two stuck together. Jackpot! I put one spoon next to the sink in the en suite and when my tea tray was collected it went unnoticed. Later a guard delivered a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste and explained he'd be back shortly to collect. I inspected the brush, it
looked
the same as mine, but was it mine? All my things had been gathered up together so I hoped they had some system of getting the right toothbrush back to the right owner, but you never know. Still, going without brushing wasn't really an option. I gave it an extra-long rinse under the hot tap first though.
While I'd had the luxury of brushing my teeth, that luxury didn't stretch to pillows and blankets. I woke up the next morning sore and stiff. A warm shower might be in order. A long one. Worrying about cameras now seemed a bit pointless. But loo first. When I wiped the paper came away with a small smear of blood. Now? Of all times why now? I'd have to ask the guard for something when he brought breakfast. I brushed my teeth and showered, then waited for the guard. Fortunately, my flow first day was always pretty light before turning into a fully-fledged massacre on day two. The door opened and along with a guard, Mrs Duckworth stood there.
"You can come down to breakfast this morning. Just as you are," she said. Just as you are meant naked.
"Um..."
