A Place Of Safety (27 page)

Mama obviously has no idea what she’s talking about and the woman sighs.

‘The job,’ she says. ‘I’ve come to offer the job.’

Catalina’s heart leaps into her mouth. She can scarcely believe it. A job for Mama. She’s worked here and there, of course, she’s had to keep the wolf from the door, but there’s never been anything regular.

‘What do you think, Catalina?’ asks the woman.

Catalina beams. ‘I think it’s great. I’ll do everything I can to help so that Mama can go to work.’

Mama shakes her head and snorts with laughter. ‘Not me, you stupid child. Who would employ an old hag like me?’

‘But I thought she said she’d come about a job.’

Mama rolls her eyes and nudges the woman. ‘I told you she wasn’t the brightest.’

The woman laughs but turns to Catalina. ‘The job’s for you.’

Catalina is incredulous. She’s twelve years old and has hardly been to school. ‘A job for me?’ she says. ‘Doing what?’

‘A nanny,’ says the woman.

‘What’s that?’ asks Catalina.

‘You see,’ says Mama. ‘Not the brightest.’

The woman ignores her. ‘It’s someone who helps women with their house and their children.’

‘Why do they need help?’ asks Catalina.

The woman shrugs. ‘Because they are rich and lazy. Can you cook?’

‘A little.’

‘Clean?’

‘Of course.’

‘Look after babies?’

Catalina smiles. ‘I have four little sisters.’

‘There you go then,’ says the woman. ‘You’re perfect.’

A week later, Catalina is standing at the foot of the stairs, a small grey bag by her feet. The babies are crying but she’s trying hard not to.

‘Stop all this,’ says Mama, but her voice is softer than usual, like the old Mama. ‘Your sister is doing this for the family. For all of us.’

The woman with the yellow hair has arrived to take Catalina to her new home. She is wearing a different coat with shiny black buttons. Catalina will buy one just like it when she gets her first month’s wages.

The woman hands Mama some money. ‘An advance’, she calls it.

‘See,’ says Mama to the children. ‘We’ll go straight to town and fill up the cupboards.’

‘I bet there’s enough for some sweets,’ says Catalina, and the babies whoop, their tears forgotten.

‘Come on now,’ says the woman, and picks up Catalina’s bag. ‘We’ve a long way to go.’

Catalina kisses each soft head and hugs Mama.

‘I’ll write every week,’ says Catalina.

Mama nods but turns away.

The prison walls close in and Catalina fights to catch her breath. She can’t do it. She can’t remember that world, so many lifetimes ago. Maybe it would just be better to stay here and rot.

‘Brownies?’ Sam’s eyes and smile were wide. ‘For breakfast?’

‘If you’d prefer muesli…’ said Lilly.

Sam laughed his answer and grabbed one in each fist. Lilly took one herself and picked up the phone. She wanted to leave Dr Kadir a message to call her as soon as she got in.

To Lilly’s surprise, Dr Kadir answered on the first ring.

‘Hi,’ said Lilly. ‘You’re up with the larks.’

‘I don’t sleep well,’ said Dr Kadir.

After a moment’s uncomfortable silence, Dr Kadir coughed. ‘Can I help you, Miss Valentine?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Lilly stumbled over her words. ‘I went to see Anna yesterday—actually, she’s called Catalina.’

‘That’s a very beautiful name.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Lilly, realising how well it suited her client.

‘How is she?’

‘Okay—well, I think okay,’ said Lilly. ‘She didn’t say much at all.’

‘That’s to be expected.’

‘The thing is, I need her to tell me everything.’

Dr Kadir laughed. ‘Catalina has protected her story for so long it’s unlikely she will dismantle her defence mechanism overnight. It will take time.’

‘I don’t have time, Dr Kadir. The court gave me a week to sort this out.’

‘I’m sure you’ve represented enough damaged children to know their problems can’t be timetabled.’

Lilly did know. She’d acted for hundreds if not thousands of kids over the years. They kept their abuse locked tight in themselves, denying it air or freedom. When the time came to speak they were often too frightened. And Catalina was locked more tightly than any client Lilly had encountered.

‘I understand exactly what you’re saying,’ Lilly sighed. ‘But if I can’t construct a defence for Catalina there’s a good chance she could be convicted and spend the rest of her life in jail. I can’t let that happen.’

Dr Kadir didn’t answer but this time the silence was thoughtful. At last she spoke.

‘You need to do this in a sideways manner. Don’t dive in like a dog at an oasis. You’ll just make the water brown.’

Lilly laughed. The description was apt.

‘Don’t ask about her,’ Dr Kadir said. ‘She’ll clam up.’

‘I don’t have time for small talk.’

‘I understand that, but if you approach this softly you may at least get some information you can use,’ said Dr Kadir. ‘If you go straight to the heart of the matter you’ll leave with nothing.’

Lilly raked her fingers through her hair, avoiding the tender spot on her crown. ‘What do you suggest?’

‘Ask about Artan. ‘She may tell you his story which will give you a way into hers.’

Lilly waved Sam off and grabbed her bag. If she set off now she should arrive at High Point for the start of visiting. The more time she had, the slower she could take things.

Her mobile rang. She toyed with ignoring it but it could be news about Rupes.

‘Hello,’ she said, the phone balanced between chin and shoulder.

‘Lilly.’ It was David.

‘I’m on my way to see a client,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you later.’

‘I’d rather speak now.’

Uh oh. He didn’t sound happy.

‘Okay,’ she said, and let the engine idle.

He cleared his throat, alerting her that this was a pre-rehearsed speech. He’d done it throughout their marriage, whenever he was sure Lilly wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

‘Sam’s welfare is always at the top of my priorities.’

‘I know that,’ she said.

The old Lilly would have felt compelled to point out that shagging a stylist half his age and decimating their family life was probably not the best thing he had ever done for his son. New Lilly had moved on.

David coughed again. ‘I think he should come and stay with us while this case is ongoing.’

‘With you and Cara?’

‘And his sister.’

‘Has he said that’s what he wants?’

‘He was very worried about the window and the car, and of course there’s what everyone’s saying at school now the whole mess is public knowledge.’

‘Has he said he wants to stay with you?’ Lilly asked, thinking of her son in their untidy kitchen with his fist full of brownies.

‘Not in so many words.’

Lilly pulled on her seat belt; she hadn’t got time for this. ‘So not in any words, as a matter of fact?’

David’s voice was cold. ‘You can dismiss this if you want, but I have to consider what’s best for Sam.’

‘I do that every day of my life,’ she replied, and snapped her phone shut.

It’s hard to pick tomatoes with one hand but Luke is doing his best. He tries to pinch off the fruit with his thumb and forefinger, but without the other hand to keep the plant still it bends towards him like a sniffing dog.

He arrived at the Black Cat at the usual time and stuffed his bandaged hand in his pocket. The woman was already there, her hair pulled atop her head in a palm-tree effect, one of her drawn-on eyebrows slightly smudged.

She gestured for him to go to the van. Obviously no one had mentioned the accident in the fish factory. Or perhaps she simply didn’t care.

He pushes his injured fist against the stem, but even that pressure is agony.

‘You okay?’ asks the Ukrainian.

Luke nods, but they both know it’s a lie.

‘You have medicine?’

Luke shrugs and the Ukrainian shakes his head.

Luke inspects the dressing, already grey from a night on the street, peppered with tomato seeds and splashes of juice. There is a brown stain covering the top of his hand. But brown is good, right? It means the blood is old, that the wound is closing over?

The owner enters the tunnel, his cardigan buttons straining. He checks the trays. ‘Bit slow this morning.’

Luke keeps his hand hidden in the leaves of the plants. If the owner realises he can’t work properly he’ll be sent home for sure.

The owner eyes Luke. ‘I ain’t paying you to stand around.’

The Ukrainian and Luke exchange looks.

‘My friend needs toilet,’ says the Ukrainian. ‘Bursting.’

The owner scowls at Luke. ‘Go on then. Outside.’

Luke pulls his hand into the folds of his jacket and makes his way out.

‘Be quick about it,’ the owner shouts after him.

Luke waits at the entrance until the owner has moved on to the next tunnel. Today is going to be very long.

‘Tell me about Artan.’

Catalina looked puzzled. No doubt she was expecting Lilly to demand her life story.

‘What do you want to know?’

Lilly relaxed into her chair as if it hardly mattered. ‘Where you met. How you became friends.’ Lilly shrugged. ‘Just a general picture.’

Catalina closed her eyes to think. Her eyelashes rested at the top of her cheeks like black feathers. Lilly thought she looked beautiful yet fragile—like an ornamental doll.

‘I met him on the day I left home.’

Lilly wanted to shout out ‘Why did you leave home?’ and ‘Where did you come from?’, but she followed Dr Kadir’s advice and reined herself in.

‘What did you think of him?’ she asked.

Catalina opened her eyes and gave a slow, sad smile. ‘That he knew how to take care of himself.’

‘Were you frightened?’

‘Yes.’

‘Of him?’

‘Of everything.’

‘Did he tell you about his background? Where he was from?’ asked Lilly.

Catalina shook her head. ‘Not then.’

‘Later?’

‘Yes. He told me about his village and his family.’

‘That must have been very harrowing for him.’

Catalina looked away. ‘Yes. He lost everyone.’

‘Were you boyfriend and girlfriend?’

‘No,’ said Catalina. ‘Just friends.’

‘He must have been very glad to make a friend like you.’

‘Maybe,’ Catalina shrugged. ‘Or maybe he asked himself why he got stuck with a silly girl who can’t look after herself.’

‘I doubt that,’ said Lilly. ‘I know if I were all alone in the world and I met someone as warm as you, I’d be bloody grateful.’

Catalina looked at Lilly as if they were strangers. As if she had no idea who her solicitor was. Or perhaps she was wondering if Lilly had any idea who she was. Lilly was certainly asking herself the same question.

‘It is me that should be grateful,’ she said.

‘For what?’

Catalina again looked away. ‘Many many things.’

Lilly covered Catalina’s hand with her own, but the girl pulled away and walked to the window. The sight of her raised a chorus of jeers from the visitors’ centre. Someone threw a sweet, which clipped the reinforced glass with a tiny pop.

Lilly stood next to her client and touched her shoulder. It felt lost in the folds of her uniform.

‘Tell me what he did,’ said Lilly.

The door behind them opened.

A guard leaned her weight on one hip and chewed a mouthful of gum. ‘Time’s up.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ said Lilly. ‘We’ve only just got started.’

The guard blew a bubble and let it pop.

‘I haven’t even had an hour,’ said Lilly.

The guard transferred her weight onto her other hip. ‘Should have got here on time.’

‘I did,’ said Lilly. ‘Or I would have, but I had to take a call.’

She’d kill David when she next got hold of him.

The guard shrugged and gestured for Catalina to leave.

Lilly had to think quickly. ‘I’ll come back first thing tomorrow, Catalina, and you need to tell me some more about Artan. Maybe you could write it down for me tonight?’

‘I don’t have paper,’ said Catalina.

Lilly tore her legal pad in two and held out one half.

‘You’ll have to get that checked,’ said the guard.

Lilly was about to point out that a woman had recently been caught smuggling six wraps of heroin and a flick knife into the prison. In comparison, a few sheets of lined A4 were hardly going to pose a safety threat. But she knew it was wasted energy.

‘Fine,’ she said, and headed back to reception.

‘You need to get that sorted, soft lad.’

Caz is peering at Luke’s hand. It has swollen to twice its size. Each finger is hard and smooth.

‘That’s fluid, that is,’ says Caz, pressing his thumb with her own.

They’ve made up the lean-to early tonight and are huddled inside around a single candle. An angry wind rages outside, blowing newspapers and chip cartons along the street. Luke is exhausted from his day’s work but he knows he’ll never sleep.

Caz unhooks the safety pin and starts to unravel the bandage.

‘It’s the Return of the bleeding Mummy.’

After two layers, the gauze won’t come away and Caz has to tug. With each round of bandage the tug becomes less gentle. At last his hand is free, apart from a square of surgical lint, now black and rancid. It’s stuck fast.

‘That’s got to come off,’ says Caz.

‘It hurts,’ says Luke.

‘All the more reason for it to come off,’ she argues.

Without warning, she rips it away. Luke feels the white heat shoot up his arm again and roars. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?’

Caz ignores him and inspects the damage.

Luke can’t look. ‘Is it bad?’

‘Minging.’

He forces himself to take a peek. ‘Jesus.’

The two welts where the blades went in are full of blood-tinged pus.

‘It needs cleaning up,’ says Caz.

Luke looks around the damp and dirty space they call home, littered with McDonald’s boxes and burnt tinfoil.

‘With what?’ he asks.

‘Teardrop Tony always has bleach,’ she says.

Luke imagines their friend’s mud-and shit-caked clothes, his hair that hasn’t seen shampoo in years.