‘We’ve been over this Laila. The life you had is finished. Your new life will be with your husband. Duty. Honour. Now come away from the balcony Laila, you’ll have people staring.’
Laila didn’t move. From behind her uncle she saw two large security guards looking over, concerned puzzlement on their faces.
Tariq spoke to her now, his jaw clenched in tension, desperately wanting his sister to stop causing herself more trouble. ‘Laila, there’s nowhere for you to go. Please. The best thing you can do is to make it easy on yourself. In time you’ll get use to it. One day you will come to love him. So please come here. Please.’
Mahmood interjected, pushing Tariq out of the way, irritated by his soft tone. ‘We both know you’re not going to jump Laila, so stop this nonsense and come here now. As your uncle, I’m ordering you to.’
He put out his hand for Laila to take, but she only looked at it, unable to take it, knowing if she did it would only harm her rather than help her. She turned her head and looked down at the drop below again, her heart racing.
‘Is everything alright Miss?’
The security guard from earlier spoke as he walked towards Laila. From the expression on his face it was clear he didn’t know what to make of the scene. Her in her burka clinging onto the railing as if it were her life raft with her brother and uncle on either side, their arms stretched open, looking as if they were herding up a stray sheep.
Tariq spoke to the guard, not taking his eyes off Laila. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘I was talking to the lady.’
‘Well I’m talking to you, and I’m telling you everything is fine.’
Laila watched the security guard. His shirt, at least a size too small clung to him, and perspiration sat like angry storm clouds around his armpits and across his protruding stomach. As he spoke, he wiped the sweat away from his top lip. ‘Are you all right love?’
Tariq quickly whipped round. ‘She’s not your love. She’s my sister.’
The security guard, slightly thrown but not put off, spoke again. ‘I need you to tell me everything’s all right.’
Laila stared at him. It was now or never. This was the moment she could get away. Be taken somewhere to work things out. She could finish school and go onto university as she’d hoped to do. Then she could travel. See the world, before settling down to someone who loved her and who she loved. Now was the time to say what her family planned to do with her. This was the last chance she’d have. But then wouldn’t it also mean getting her family in trouble? And then what’d happen to her mother? Her brother? Could she really do that to them? Could she really live with the fact she’d never be able to see them again?
With her big almond eyes darting between the security guard and Tariq, Laila opened her mouth and spoke as confidently as she could manage. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.’ As the words came out of her mouth, Laila could almost feel something dying inside her.
7
Tasha sat and waited. She’d been waiting now for several hours, though it could’ve been days or even weeks, maybe even years. Each second she waited seemed like a lifetime. Waiting for the doctors to tell her if Ray-Ray, her son, her baby, was alive.
Had it really only been last night when she’d got the call from her next-door neighbour? Tasha had expected to hear there’d been a parcel delivered or the alarm of her house wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t have even minded a call telling her the kids from the local school had been trying to scale her large gated walled house. But this? To hear her house was on fire with her son inside? That call she’d never wanted to get.
With her head in her hands, Tasha sat on the uncomfortable red plastic seat in the long corridor, staring down at the floor. Hearing, but not seeing the hospital staff and visitors walking by. The strong smell of disinfectant, though overpowering, was slightly comforting. Sterile and sanitary. Completely opposite to how she felt.
What had she been doing when Ray-Ray was screaming for help? When he was trapped by the fire and overwhelmed by the smoke? She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut but it didn’t take away the images, it only stopped the tears pouring out onto the floor. Nothing could take away her guilt. Even if Ray-Ray pulled through, she would know what she had been doing. Simply put, she’d been in bed with another man.
‘Tash!’
The sound of his voice made her look up. It was Freddie. She stood bolt up and stared hard at him. She hadn’t seen him for over a month but he still looked the same. Actually, he hadn’t changed much over the years. He wasn’t typical of a man of his age. At fifty-two there was no sign of a middle-age spread creeping up. No receding hairline, no lined face, only a body which a twenty-year-old man would envy. Her husband had had it all. The looks, the money, the gift of the gab, and most of all, the fear factor, but now he was paying a high price for being Freddie Thompson.
Tasha could feel herself turning red. She knew Freddie couldn’t read her thoughts, but it didn’t stop her feeling like he could. It was as if it was written all over her; as if Freddie could see the guilt on her face.
When she’d got the call, she’d pulled on her clothes and been driven straight to the hospital. No time to check to see if her usually immaculate hair was in place. No time to check to make sure there were no creases in her clothes. And if Freddie looked closely, he would know. The telltale signs were all there.
‘All right babe.’ It was all she could manage to say. She didn’t trust herself to say any more. She was trying to keep her voice steady. Hoping Freddie would think her nervousness and her appearance was all down to what had happened to Ray-Ray.
She’d missed the last prison visit and she knew Freddie had been pissed off. He’d sent one of his men round to see her, which she thought he might. Nothing had been said apart from, ‘Freddie was worried you weren’t well; wants to make sure that there isn’t a problem.’
But she knew it hadn’t been a bedside visit, but a little warning to her. Letting her know no matter where she was, no matter what she did, he would be there, right behind her. She belonged to him.
Freddie held her stare and it was only then Tasha became aware of the two screws on either side of him, handcuffed to him. They stood uncomfortably on either side. Both tall and lanky and nondescript, they could almost be mistaken for brothers.
They looked hot in their ill-fitting jackets and matching nylon trousers, unsuitable for the July heat. But more than that, they looked nervous being locked on the arm of the notorious villain, Freddie Thompson.
Tasha didn’t bother to acknowledge them. She hated screws nearly as much as she hated the police. She’d come across enough of them in her time when she’d visited friends and relatives in prison to know the majority of them were trumped up little bullies who would, if they had the guts, give Freddie a seeing to.
Freddie watched his wife. He hadn’t seen her for a while after she’d cancelled the last prison visit. It was good to see her, especially after a sweltering two hundred mile ride in the prison van, stuck listening to the two muppets who called themselves prison officers brag about their latest bit of pussy.
All he wanted to know was how Ray-Ray was doing. Nobody had told him anything. The prison officers had only smirked at him when he’d fought back the tears on the journey, wanting an update and asking if his son was still alive. Tonight though it’d be him who was smirking, after he’d put in a call to one of his men to pay them a little visit. To show them just what happened when they tried to make a fool out of him.
Tasha’s face was drawn and tired, but she still looked as beautiful as the young woman he’d fallen for all those years