The nurse smiled sympathetically and spoke in barely a whisper. ‘His shin was splintered in three places. The surgeon needed to …’
She was cut off abruptly by Freddie. ‘Splintered? What … what are you talking about? I thought he was caught up in a fire.’
‘He was, but he also has damage to his leg.’
‘Can a fire cause that?’ As Tasha said it she knew it sounded ridiculous, but rather ridiculous than let the thought which was slowly coming into her head creep in.
Freddie turned to Tasha, his face red. ‘Don’t talk fucking bollocks Tash. There ain’t no fire which breaks legs.’
The nurse looked at them kindly. ‘Didn’t the surgeon tell you? The fire didn’t actually cause any damage.’
‘But I don’t understand; he’s been burnt?’
‘Not by the fire Mrs Thompson. He only suffered smoke inhalation from that. His burns have been caused by acid. They’re chemical burns.’
It took Tasha only a moment. Only a slight pause, before she leapt at Freddie. She lashed out, throwing her arms everywhere and bringing them down into contact with Freddie’s powerful chest. She reined the blows down as the prison officers tried to pull Freddie away, but he stood firmly rooted to the spot, watching as his wife’s tears poured out and he allowed her to take her anger out on him. And although the punches didn’t hurt on a man like him, the physical contact made him feel slightly better, although his expression stayed the same. Cold, hard and unmoving.
Tasha stopped, exhausted and her speech was laboured as she hissed at her husband. ‘This is your fault Freddie. The reason my son is lying here is because of you and your stupid, stupid business. Because of you his life is ruined. I will never forgive you for this. You hear me. Never!’ Tasha screamed out the last word then ran out of the private room, almost knocking into a group of student nurses.
In the corridor, she leant on the wall, breathing deeply, and welcoming the feel of the cool of the concrete seep through her shirt onto her skin.
‘Tash!’
She turned her head and saw Freddie being walked down the corridor the other way, being taken back to the prison van. He shouted to her as he was led away. ‘Tash, I’ll sort it. I’ll get whoever did this … I promise. Tash, don’t ignore me. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t want this to happen did I? Tasha? … Tasha? … I’ll call you, okay?’
Tasha Thompson didn’t bother looking at her husband. It was the first time she’d ever turned her back on him, and both of them knew it. As she walked into the July sunshine she looked up, enviously watching a single plane cut through the crystal-blue sky. She’d no idea where it was going but that didn’t matter; if she was given half the chance she’d be on it, because it was going somewhere. Somewhere other than here and somewhere would’ve been good enough for her.
Getting out her phone she sighed, knowing today was a turning point. Today, Tash’s life had changed forever.
‘Hello, it’s me.’
‘Hey, is everything all right?’
The voice on the other end was warm and kind, making the guilt Tasha had disappear. Despite what she’d thought earlier, she needed him now more than ever. His voice always had that effect on her. It always made her ask herself how could something this good be wrong?
‘No, not really it’s …’
Tasha trailed off, unable to explain and not wanting to break down into tears.
‘Listen, don’t try to tell me now. Shall I come and pick you up? Are you still at the hospital? We could have a coffee or something.’
Tasha paused then quickly said, ‘Yes, okay, I’d like that. I’m at the entrance but I can’t go far in case he wakes up. I want to be here when he comes round.’
‘I’ll jump in the car now. I’ll only be ten minutes. And sweetheart, try not to worry.’
As Tasha put the phone down, Arnold smiled to himself as he got his car keys out. He liked her. She was perfect. Just perfect.
8
Laila could see the grounds of Bradford Royal Infirmary as she looked out of the plane window. Everything seemed so small and unreal from the air, like a picture postcard from the sky. A leisurely summer’s day in Bradford, everyone getting along with their lives without a care.
She was invisible to all of them. High up in the sky, no one knowing where she was going. No one caring. But Laila cared, and she was terrified. There were so many questions she wanted to ask but there was no one to answer them. So the questions just went round and round in her head, terrifying her more with each recurrence of thought.
How long was she going for? When would she come back? Would she come back? That was the worst question of all and part of Laila was pleased her brother – who was sitting next to her, flicking through a motorcycle magazine – wouldn’t answer.
Islamabad. She hadn’t even been to Spain, let alone a country thousands of miles away. She didn’t know anything much about the country, not really about it. Not the things you really needed to know. Of course she knew about the history, the culture, the food and where it was in relation to Afghanistan; she’d learnt it all in school. She even knew enough about the conflicts and the different religious divisions to get an A-star in her history homework. She knew all that. What she didn’t know was about the real things. The things that mattered to everyday life.
How could she possibly go somewhere when she didn’t even know where to take a bus, where to buy chocolate or some underwear, or even where the Ladies toilets were? It was those things that mattered and it was those things she didn’t know.
Yet the biggest thing, the thing which scared her the most besides marrying a stranger, was how to live in a country when she didn’t speak the language. Yes, she knew and understood the odd word of Urdu but not enough to live there. But that was the point wasn’t it? She didn’t want to live there and until yesterday she hadn’t planned on even going. She didn’t want to go, yet here she was sitting on a plane, unable to get off, unable to do anything apart from what her family told her to do.
With the thoughts came the tears and Laila sniffed loudly. A moment later, Mahmood’s harsh voice was heard. Not for the first time that day, Laila Khan wished above all things her beloved father was still alive.
‘I can tell you this now Laila; I’m not sitting here the whole way to Pakistan with you sniffing away.’
Tariq looked at his sister. The guilt he felt was indescribable and the last thing he felt he could cope with was a whole journey of his sister’s tears whilst his uncle chastised her. Even though he’d been told both by his uncle and his mother it was part of his duty as her brother to take Laila to Pakistan and see her married off, truthfully, he could do without the whole trip.
Still, perhaps it’d be worth it in the end. Once she was married their uncle could stop being so angry with Laila. Tariq hated seeing him being so cruel to her. And as long as she didn’t mess up, maybe Laila’s torment would soon be over.
Exhausted, Tariq leaned back in his seat moving his head slightly to get a more comfortable position on the hard headrest. His uncle had refused to pay for first class and so for the next few hours he was going to be stuck squashed between his sister who didn’t sound like she was going to stop crying and his uncle, who’d somehow managed to get through customs with a container of homemade stuffed paratha and was already tucking into it, stinking the stale air.
Tariq closed his eyes and thought about the events of last night. He shuddered. Partly from what had happened to Ray-Ray and partly through his own fear and shame of being involved with it all. He supposed lying low in Pakistan until everything had died down wasn’t a bad idea. He didn’t