‘I want you to do well at school,’ I tell her softly. ‘Study hard, be clever. Then you can be anything in the world that you want to be.’
You’ll not have to rely on a man to provide for you, to feed you, to clothe you. To tell you what you can and cannot do with your own life.
I dry her gently with a fluffy towel and she slips into her pyjamas. When she snuggles down into the voluminous bed, I lie next to her and together we read her bedtime story. I read the words out loud and Sabina follows with her finger. Crystal showed me where the nearest library is and now we’ve both enrolled and Sabina has a stack of books to choose from.
Every night I’m still reading with Hayden and we’re nearly at the end of Bridget Jones’s Diary. I’m worried for Bridget as, even though she’s sometimes very silly in her behaviour and she smokes and drinks too much, I hope that she gets her man. Like all of us, Bridget just wants someone to love her.
The next morning, Crystal and I both walk Sabina to her school. It’s a beautiful, warm day. Fluffy cotton-wool clouds waft gracefully across the sky. Days like this herald that summer is nearly upon us.
My daughter’s quiet but happily holds both of our hands as we turn out of our gates and head down the street.
I haven’t been out much since I’ve been here. It’s foolish to be fearful, but I can’t help looking over my shoulder and I only hope that this feeling will soon pass.
At the school, I introduce myself and my daughter to her new class teacher, who seems to be very nice. When she’s settled, Crystal and I leave.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Crystal assures me as she marches me down the corridor to the main entrance. ‘Absolutely fine.’
Yet, in the playground, we hold each other and cry.
‘I’m traumatised,’ Crystal says, dabbing her tears away. ‘Look at the state of my make-up. I can’t bear to leave her. What must you feel like?’
‘I am a little upset,’ I admit, when my heart is actually tearing in two.
‘Well, I feel like bloody wailing. We need to go and get a coffee. And something chocolate-based.’ She links her arm through mine and steers me away from the school. My breathing is tight in my chest as we walk up to the High Street and find the nearest coffee shop.
‘You need to get out more,’ Crystal says. ‘There’s no reason for you to hide away in the house now.’
‘Old habits are hard to break. I’ve always had to ask for permission to come and go. It’s strange to be able to walk out of the door whenever I choose to with no one asking why.’
‘You can do exactly what you like now, so enjoy it.’
How true that is. I’m going to wholeheartedly embrace the simple pleasure of relaxing in a coffee shop with my friend.
Crystal queues at the counter while I find us a seat. I choose a leather sofa near the window so that we can watch the world go by. I like it here. The High Street is always bustling and interesting. It feels like a busy little village tucked neatly inside of London. Some of the shops are very beautiful and a long way out of my price range. But then, even Primark is out of my price range. I hadn’t expected to be so lucky to find somewhere to live like this, and I must ring Ruth to thank her for bringing Crystal into my life. The houses on our street must be worth millions of pounds and I don’t know how anyone who isn’t a pop star can afford to be here. I’m so thankful that Hayden has opened his home to me and my child. Crystal tells me that Hampstead is a favourite place of celebrities and television stars, but I haven’t seen any yet. At least, I don’t think I have, as I’m not sure that I’d be able to recognise anyone famous. Perhaps Crystal will point some of them out to me. Then I realise that this is what Hayden lives with every day when he ventures out, and I think I’ll make a particular point of ignoring any celebrities from now on.
A few moments later, Crystal brings us both a coffee and a chocolate muffin. She curls up on the sofa next to me and picks at her cake. Today she looks very splendid in tight jeans and a bright, flowery jacket, like a colourful parakeet. Her hair is piled up and she wears big dangly earrings. Her lipstick is orange to match her shoes. She keeps her sunglasses on even though we’re now inside. I’m wearing the pretty blouse and linen trousers that Crystal chose for me, which have become my firm favourites. They’re modern yet demure, I think.
‘You’ve got to come to the club with me one night,’ Crystal begs. ‘I’ve told the other girls all about you and they’re desperate to meet you. There’s a job going too. Not as a dancer, obvs, but there’s a vacancy behind the bar and one in the cloakroom.’
‘I think I’d be happier in the cloakroom.’
‘Come along and see what you think.’
‘What will I do with Sabina?’ How can I leave my daughter alone in the evening?’
‘Joy will babysit her for an hour. She won’t mind.’ Crystal shrugs. ‘She does naff-all else with her evenings.’
‘I’ll ask her,’ I promise. ‘I’d like to see where you work and how you dance.’
Crystal peers at me over her sunglasses. ‘It will be an eye-opener for you, sweetie,’ she says. ‘That’s for sure.’
Chapter Thirty-one
The next evening I make an early dinner for us all as I’m sure Sabina will be tired after her first day back at school. I’ve taken another foray into Joy’s vegetable patch and as a result we’re having chicken cooked in a rich onion and tomato sauce, accompanied by fried cabbage and carrots Gujarati-style with chilli. I make a separate chicken dish for Joy without spices, and I boil her cabbage in plain water until it looks like soggy mush – exactly how she likes it.
Sabina looked very subdued when she came out of school. I was waiting there to meet her and wanted to scoop her up into my arms. The teacher said that she coped very well, but that her classmates found it a little odd that she doesn’t speak. I bristled at that. If they knew what my daughter had been through then they wouldn’t find it odd at all.
She’s sitting at the table now and is supposed to be doing her homework, but she’s mainly staring into space and I can’t find it in my heart to chide her into studying.
I haven’t seen Hayden all day. Crystal left me after we’d been to the coffee shop and I walked back to the house alone. When I let myself in, Hayden was in the office with the door closed. I could hear him speaking on the telephone, but he didn’t come out for lunch at all even though I’d knocked on the office door and told him I’d left some samosas out on the table for him in case he’d like to have them with salad.
After lunch, I cleaned the kitchen and then the rest of the house that’s accessible to me. Lastly, I tidied our room. I sat on the bed and looked around me, and I felt so blessed. The gods who brought us here have been very kind. In the afternoon I had nothing else to do but wait until it was time to pick up Sabina and make dinner. I could have read some of my book, but I didn’t want to do it without Hayden. So I took the time to write another letter to my mummy and daddy, to tell them that life is so much better now. I explained to them that we’re finding our feet and that I’m happy to be a woman alone. Despite the disappointment of my marriage, I think that they’d be proud to see how I’ve coped with my new circumstances.
Joy breaks into my daydreaming when she comes downstairs. ‘Need another eye on your homework, Sabina?’ she asks.
My daughter nods and Joy sits down at the table next to her, and together they look at her book.
The next person to come downstairs is Crystal. I wonder if that may be all of us for this evening, but just as I’m ready to serve our meal, Hayden joins us. It makes me feel happy that he’s come to be with us again.
‘Sorry,’ he says as he sits down. ‘Been a bit busy today.’
‘Doing what?’ Crystal wants to know.
He shrugs. ‘This and that.’
‘Hayden Daniels, man of mystery,’ she teases.
‘Joy,’ I say. ‘This is your dish.’ I put the chicken casserole in front of her. ‘No spices.’
‘Thank you, Ayesha
.’ She flushes slightly and looks uncomfortable when she says, ‘This must be a lot of extra work for you.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ I assure her. ‘There’s some plain boiled cabbage too.’
‘I would like to try your food, if I may,’ she continues. ‘I’m not sure if I’ll like it.’
‘This korma is very mild,’ I tell her. ‘But I won’t be offended if you don’t eat it.’
‘Get it down your neck, Joy,’ Crystal bellows. ‘It’s top grub.’
I hold the dish out to Joy and she helps herself to a little. ‘Thank you. I’ll just taste it,’ she says. ‘As you’ve made this casserole for me specially, I wouldn’t like it to go to waste.’
Tentatively she tastes the curry, and I have to look away or I will laugh. Her lips pucker and purse. She drinks a lot of water. ‘Very nice,’ she says, and then coughs a lot.
We all laugh and Crystal thumps her heartily on the back.
‘It’s nice,’ Joy grumbles. ‘Don’t make a fuss.’
Crystal rolls her eyes at me. When all the dishes are served, I take up my place at the table and help Sabina to some chicken and rice.
‘I had a letter from Stephen today,’ Joy says. ‘They’d hoped to come home next year – the whole family – but now it’s not going to be possible. He’s very busy at work, and with three children…’ Her sentence tails away to nothing.
‘You’re disappointed.’ I rest my hand on hers. It feels dry, papery. This is a hand that has worked hard in the soil. When I look at it more closely, the skin is chapped and raw. It’s not the hand of someone who’s had a pampered life. I’ll have to find some Ayurvedic cream for her with camomile, or perhaps marigold, which will soothe it.
‘Yes, dear,’ she says in answer, her voice constricted. ‘Very much so.’
‘Perhaps this is your time to visit them,’ I suggest.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Joy blusters. ‘They know I can’t do that.’
‘Today you’ve tried a little bit of my curry and found it not too bad,’ I note. ‘Last week, you didn’t think you’d do that.’
‘Getting on a plane and going halfway round the world is a whole different kettle of fish.’
‘We should all get on a plane and go together,’ Crystal pipes up. ‘Have you been there, Hayd?’
‘On tour,’ he replies. ‘You’d really like it, Joy. It’s very clean.’
She harrumphs at that.
In order to change the conversation, I say, ‘I wanted to ask you a small favour, Joy.’ I glance at Sabina. ‘I’d like to be able to take a job and there’s one available at Crystal’s club. In the cloakroom. Would it be possible for you to look after Sabina while I go with Crystal for a short while this evening? I’d be very grateful.’
Joy’s head shoots up. ‘You can’t possibly be going to that place.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with it.’ Crystal is suddenly very defensive.
‘You cannot take Ayesha there.’
‘The other girls want to meet her,’ Crystal says tartly. ‘At the end of the day, a job’s a job.’
Joy tuts crossly. ‘There must be a million other things she can do.’
‘I have no skills,’ I point out softly. ‘I’m not very experienced.’
‘That shows only too clearly, my dear,’ Joy puffs. ‘You must be mad even going near somewhere like that.’
‘We’ve all got to do things in life that we don’t bloody like,’ Crystal mutters.
‘I think Ayesha’s had a lifetime of doing things that she didn’t like, doing what other people have told her to do,’ Hayden interjects. He turns to me. ‘If you want my opinion, I don’t think it’s for you. However, you should be free to make up your own mind.’
‘I can’t even believe that Crystal has even asked her.’ Joy is still on her high horse.
‘I’m not ashamed of what I do.’ Crystal is all puffed up and I feel that I can’t let her down even though I’m now very worried about accompanying her.
‘Perhaps you should be.’
I can feel myself getting jittery inside. ‘I’d like to go.’
‘I’ll look after Sabina,’ Hayden says. He looks across the table at my daughter. ‘Will you stay with me?’
‘I’ll do it,’ Joy counters.
Now they’re fighting over her and I find that I really don’t want to go at all.
‘Can you crochet, little one?’ asks Joy.
Sabina shakes her head.
‘Then I’ll show you how.’
My daughter smiles at that.
‘Great,’ Crystal says. ‘Sorted. You’d better change out of that blouse, Ayesha. Put your maxidress on. You look a bit Pollyanna.’
Hayden’s head snaps up and, with more force than I’ve previously heard him use, says, ‘She looks beautiful exactly as she is.’
We all turn to him, mouths open, and he flushes red to his hair roots.
‘Well,’ he says. ‘She does.’
Chapter Thirty-two
Suresh stared out of the window. Not that there was much to see as Flynn’s black Jag was boxed in on either side by lorries.
The four men were in the car on the way to London. It was currently stuck in stationary traffic on the M1 motorway near the London Gateway Services, due to roadworks. Flynn was driving, the radio was playing some inane drivel and Suresh could feel his rage rising. They’d set off later than he wanted to and now they were in danger of getting into town as everywhere was closing up.
‘What’s the plan when we get there?’ Arunja asked from the back seat.
‘I want to make sure that Ayesha and Sabina actually arrived in London,’ Suresh replied tightly. ‘We’ll check the shops and cafés at Victoria Coach Station. See if they were spotted by any of the staff there.’
In the rear-view mirror, he could see Arunja and Smith exchange a weary glance.
‘They could have gone anywhere,’ Arunja pointed out. ‘They could have got straight on another coach, to Bristol or Bournemouth.’
‘Then we’ll try to discover if that is the case. I have to do something,’ he snapped. ‘Would you have her walk away with my child?’
His brother shrugged.
‘You’re being well paid, Arunja. Don’t complain.’
His brother was lazy and it made Suresh furious. His own wife came and went as she pleased. Arunja didn’t know where she was half the time. His children were wayward and, what was more, he didn’t seem to care. Arunja was too easygoing by half. Well, they might be brothers, but that wasn’t his way. Ayesha’s absence was eating away at him like acid in his stomach and he wouldn’t rest until she was returned home.
The traffic inched forward and his temper inched upward. No matter what his brother thought – or Smith or Flynn – he couldn’t let this lie. Someone knew where Ayesha was, and he would find them.
‘We should make a night of this,’ Flynn said, leaning on the steering wheel. ‘I know this guy, Vinny Alessi. We used to work the doors together years ago. He’s running a lapdancing club now, off the Finchley Road. “Desires” or something. We should go. Pick up some girls.’
‘I’m in,’ Arunja said.
‘When there’s easy pussy available, you always are,’ Suresh threw over his shoulder.
His brother laughed, the insult bouncing off him. ‘I can’t see a problem with that.’
To be honest, Suresh didn’t see a problem either. It would be good to let off some steam.
‘I’ll call him,’ Flynn said. ‘We can drop by later.’
It took another hour or more to get to Victoria Coach Station, and Flynn swung the car into the neighbouring NCP car park. They all climbed out. Suresh handed them fresh photographs of Ayesha and Sabina that he’d printed from the computer. He didn’t remember when this picture had been taken, but his wife and child were staring impassively at the camera. It wouldn’t have hurt Ayesha to smile, he thought bitterly.
He nodded to Flynn and Arunja. ‘You two go into the station,’ Suresh said
. ‘Ask at the kiosks, the shops, the ticket desk. Try to find anyone who recalls seeing them here.’ He turned to Smith. ‘We’ll ask in the shops and cafés in the surrounding streets. Keep in touch. Let me know any news immediately.’
The men headed across the road towards the station. He and Smith fell into step together and worked their way towards the shops and cafés that bordered it.
‘I’ll go this way,’ he said to Smith. ‘You take that street.’
Smith did so without protest. If only his brother could keep his mouth shut in the same way.
Suresh entered the first shop he came to and went up to the counter. He held out his photograph to the woman who stood behind it.
‘Hello.’ He pasted a smile on his face. ‘I’m a police officer. I wonder if you can help me. Have you seen this woman recently? She’s missing and we’re very worried about her.’
The woman was hard-faced, chewing gum. He knew her kind. She glanced at the photograph. ‘No.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, and he could feel his fists tightening. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’
Back on the street, he moved on to the next shop. It was the same in there. And in the next one. And the next. No one had seen Ayesha. Hoping the other lads were having better luck inside the station, he worked his way along the row, stopping in anywhere that looked likely. He drew a blank in every place. He hated to admit this, but perhaps his brother was right. This could well be a wild-goose chase.
Down the next road he walked into a mini-market, a couple of cafés and then a deli, where he was met by more shaking heads. The next café he went into was warm, welcoming. The smell of fresh coffee was overwhelming and Suresh thought it was time to get the lads together to have some refreshment. He had to keep them on side, keen.
‘An espresso, please,’ he said to the elderly man behind the counter.
The man took a cup and set his coffee machine going.
Suresh started his well-worn script again. ‘I’m a police officer. Looking for this missing woman and her child.’ He held up the photograph. ‘Have you seen them?’