A Place Of Safety Read online

  As she sped down the A5 she pulled out her phone.

  ‘Rupes, it’s me. Sorry I couldn’t make it to the pub but I need to collect Sam. He said he’d leave home if he had to go to after-school care again.’

  It was true that Sam preferred not to stay late at school with the boarders. He said the common room smelled and tea in the refectory was always the same. ‘I don’t know how they do it, Mum, but whatever day you go it’s always some sort of mince,’ he’d said. ‘They give it different names but it doesn’t fool anyone.’

  To say he hated it was perhaps an exaggeration, but extreme times called for extreme measures.

  Rupinder said nothing. Lilly could imagine her pursed lips and tried to make light of it. ‘You can give me my bollocking tomorrow and save yourself the price of a pint.’

  ‘Just get your backside over here.’

  Lancasters had changed hands again. Now a franchise of a famous chef who had never stepped out of the West End, it had restyled itself as a gastropub. What this meant in reality was sage-green walls by Farrow & Ball and steaks costing fifteen quid a pop. As usual, it was almost empty.

  Rupinder and the others were congregated at the far end of the bar. Lilly heard the pop of a champagne cork and her heart sank. Had she missed something important? Whose birthday was it?

  ‘What’s the occasion?’ she called, all faux bonhomie.

  Rupinder held out a glass of bubbly. ‘Your application for rights of higher audience. You passed.’

  Earlier that year, Rupes had come under pressure from her colleagues to give Lilly the boot because of her propensity to speak her mind and take on cases that would add little to their pension funds. Rupes had resisted but had agreed to improve her bottom line. One suggestion was that money should stop being wasted on barristers and that Lilly should handle her own advocacy wherever possible.

  ‘Wow,’ said Lilly. Drowning in the sea of divorce cases, she’d forgotten all about the exams she’d taken that summer.

  ‘Wow indeed.’ Rupinder’s tone was cold. Lilly was obviously not forgiven for her attempted escape. ‘Congratulations.’

  Sheila drained her glass and helped herself to a refill from the jeroboam. She didn’t tilt her glass, and the expensive froth flowed down the stem.

  ‘I suppose you’ll be in the office even less now,’ she said. ‘And muggins here will get all the extra paperwork.’

  ‘Every cloud,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Perhaps we could all put our differences aside and pull as a team,’ said Rupinder, ‘just this once.’

  Lilly girded herself for a lecture but was saved by her phone. ‘I told you Sam would get the hump.’

  Rupes looked gratifyingly crestfallen so Lilly didn’t mention that football training wouldn’t finish for another hour.

  She stood away from the others.

  ‘Miss Valentine?’

  ‘That’s me,’ she said.

  ‘I’m from Hounds Place. I wonder if you have any time to speak to one of the residents.’

  Lilly looked over at Rupes and gave her best contrite parent face. ‘I’ll be right there.’

  This 7 message thread spans 2 pages: [1] 2 ≪

  The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Blood River at 15.05

  This country used to be something to be proud of.

  It used to stand for something around the world. Its people knew who they were.

  Can we say that any more?

  The People Of Britain Have Had Enough! Skin Lick at 15.12

  No we can’t.

  The country has gone to shit with all the bending over backwards for immigrants.

  The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Snow White at 15.15

  What really annoys me is when you walk down the street and every other person is a foreigner. I went on a train to London last week and heard about twenty different languages. I began to wonder where I was…

  The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Skin Lick at 15.22

  I know what you mean, Snow White. My home town has three mosques. Three!!!

  We truly are living in Englastan.

  The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Snow White at 15.26

  I read that some schools are forced to celebrate Eid and Diwali but the children aren’t allowed to send Christmas cards to one another. I don’t want my children bringing up that way.

  The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Skin Lick at 15.38

  It’s a scandal.

  The white indigenous population of this country will soon be in the minority and then we’ll lose all our heritage and culture.

  Prepare to say goodbye to Easter, New Year’s Eve and Bonfire Night.

  The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Blood River at 15.46

  I for one am not about to surrender everything I hold dear.

  Mass immigration has been a disaster and it’s got to stop.

  We are at saturation point.

  Write to your MP saying you will no longer tolerate being a second-class citizen in your own home.

  Boycott shops owned by in-comers.

  Fly the flag of St George with pride.

  Snow White closed the lid of her laptop. She hated to leave a live discussion but she needed to pick up her husband’s shirts from the dry-cleaners’. She checked the clock. If she didn’t dilly-dally she’d still have enough time to pop into the butcher’s and get home in time for the live podcast.

  A hostel had recently opened in Manor Wood, within half a mile of Sam’s school. The building, Hounds Place, had previously been a police-station house but had been bought up by a professional landlord who saw the potential for squeezing five desperate refugees into each room.

  The influx of nearly thirty foreigners into a small village like Manor Wood had not been greeted with overwhelming delight. The infamous hospitality of the English countryside did not, it seemed, extend to the raggle-taggle bunch of young men and women who had risked everything to leave their wartorn homelands.

  Lilly had begged Rupes to let her represent two fourteen-year-old boys who had fled the Taliban. Without any relatives in the UK care orders had been made without fuss or objection so the use of Lilly’s time had been negligible. Two had become four, then a teenager from Bosnia arrived and another from Uganda. Although she kept the increasing numbers quiet, particularly from Rupes, Lilly now represented at least half the kids in there. It didn’t take up too much of her energy, she told herself, as she checked her watch.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold a young man in a checked shirt and denim jacket sidled over.

  ‘Hello, Artan,’ said Lilly.

  He should have been a good-looking boy with his full pink lips and the blackest of lashes, but something about him always unnerved Lilly. His entire family had been killed in Kosovo, but he never seemed angry or sad or even confused. He was cold.

  ‘How are you?’ she asked.

  Artan shook his head to indicate that things were not good. ‘I need to speak to you.’

  ‘I’ve got twenty minutes,’ said Lilly.

  They went to the kitchen and the few residents who had been sitting around chatting got up and left. Something was very wrong.

  ‘Have you been arrested again, Artan?’ Lilly asked. A month ago she’d got him off with a warning for shoplifting.

  ‘It is nothing like that.’ His eyes were vacant, devoid of any clue as to what lay beneath.

  ‘Are you in trouble?’ she asked.

  ‘Something has happened to my friend,’ he said.

  ‘Something bad?’

  ‘Very, very bad,’ said Artan.

  Alarm bells started to ring. ‘Has he been hurt?’

  ‘It’s a girl,’ said Artan. ‘And yes, she has been hurt.’

  The alarm bells were pounding out now. The three-minute warning.

  ‘Go on,’ said Lilly.

  ‘Some boys from the village have taken advantage of her,’ said Artan.

  ‘You mean she’s been raped?’

  Artan nodded
.

  ‘Has she been to the police?’ asked Lilly.

  ‘It is not so simple,’ said Artan. ‘She doesn’t trust them.’

  Lilly nodded. Despite special suites and task forces, most rapes continued to go unreported, and refugees were even less likely to take their chances with the authorities.

  ‘She doesn’t think the police will believe her,’ he said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘She drank alcohol with these local boys and went to the park with them,’ he said. ‘They will say she wanted to have sex.’

  ‘Why did she go with them?’ asked Lilly.

  ‘Because her mind is not clear,’ he said.

  The silence was thick between them. Lilly knew all their stories were horrific. That none of them were unscathed.

  ‘Can you promise these boys will be convicted?’ he said.

  ‘No one can make a promise like that.’

  Artan leaned towards her, his voice dropping. ‘Is there a good chance?’

  Lilly weighed her words very carefully ‘Rape is one of the most difficult offences to prove, and in a case like this where it’s one girl’s word against three presumably squeaky-clean schoolboys it would be even more difficult.’

  Artan closed his eyes, his breathing slow and heavy.

  Lilly shivered. ‘But that’s not to say she shouldn’t report it.’

  ‘Why?’ His voice was barely above a whisper. ‘So that she can be humiliated again and again?’

  When he opened his eyes they seemed even more desolate than before.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Lilly.

  She thought she saw a flash of anger skitter across his face.

  ‘We are not animals,’ he said. ‘These boys must be punished.’

  * * *

  Twenty-four pounds.

  It was daylight robbery.

  Still, it was the best organic beef from cows allowed to roam freely around their farm in Sussex. Mr Simms even had photos of ‘the girls’ above his counter, all doe eyes and bell collars. Some thought that was a step too far but Snow White saw nothing wrong with it. Grandpa had kept chickens and had slit their throats in front of her for Sunday lunch. She could still hear the damned squawking.

  People these days had no respect for the provenance of their food. They wanted everything clean and shrinkwrapped.

  She had taught her children that life just wasn’t like that. When a fox had killed every last one of their pet bunnies she had told them to stop crying and let them sit up with her until midnight when she took him out with her shotgun. ‘Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty.’

  She put the meat in the fridge and logged on to her laptop.

  Welcome, Snow White—today’s live podcast will start in five minutes.

  Excellent. She hadn’t missed it.

  Humming to herself, she made a pot of Darjeeling.

  Lilly’s mind was still heavy with what she had heard. When she pulled into her son’s prep school she almost hit a Mercedes and its driver hooted. Lilly was tempted to give her the finger, but such a gesture would be considered rude and vulgar, an unforgivable sin for the middle-class parents among whom Lilly already had few friends.

  She was about to berate herself once again for giving in to her ex-husband on the subject of schooling when her mobile rang.

  The voice was Irish honey. ‘Hello, gorgeous. Got time for a natter?’

  Lilly got out of the car and smiled. ‘For you,’ she said, ‘I’ve always got time.’

  It was Jack McNally, a copper Lilly had known for years, and had flirted with for nearly as long before he’d finally made a move.

  ‘What are you wearing?’ he asked.

  Lilly laughed. ‘I’d like to say a basque and fishnet stockings.’

  A passing parent wrinkled her nose. Lilly wanted to stick out her tongue.

  ‘But,’ said Jack, ‘I’m sensing a “but”’.

  ‘To be honest, I’m at school, and even I’m not brazen enough to parade around here in my undies.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to make all those yummy mummies jealous,’ he said.

  ‘Now I remember why I like you.’

  She sauntered to the football pitch where Sam, in goal, was in position to save a penalty. Lilly hardly dared watch, even though it was only a practice session. ‘So how’re things?’

  ‘Same old, same old,’ he said.

  ‘Oh,’ she groaned, as Sam batted the ball clear of the goal, the slap of the leather against his skin audible even from the touchline. Though it was undoubtedly uncool for a nine year old to show any pain his middle-aged mother couldn’t help herself.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked. ‘You sound a bit distracted.’

  ‘I had a funny meeting just before you called.’

  ‘Funny ha ha, or funny peculiar?’

  ‘Funny disturbing,’ she said. ‘A girl from the hostel has been raped.’

  ‘One of the asylum seekers?’

  ‘Yeah. Her friend wanted to know what would happen if they got the police involved.’

  ‘And?’ Jack asked.

  ‘And I told him the truth.’

  The referee blew his whistle and ten boys ran towards Sam, who had clearly saved the day.

  ‘I’ve got a bad feeling that he might do something stupid,’ she said.

  Ever the professional, Jack’s tone was serious. ‘Like what?’

  Lilly waved at her son, who shook hands gravely with the other side and then scampered towards her, wind-milling his arms.

  ‘I don’t know, it could be nothing. Ignore me.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound like nothing, Lilly.’

  Sam was almost upon her. ‘You know how I overreact. He was probably just upset. Anyone would be.’

  ‘Lilly, you don’t overreact,’ said Jack. ‘You have excellent instincts, and if you think something is going down you need to tell someone.’

  ‘I will, well, I might. I need to think it through.’ Sam jumped into her arms, nearly knocking her off her feet. ‘Look, I have to go, Peter Shilton needs his tea.’

  * * *

  Welcome, members. Today’s discussion will feature regular contributor Nigel Purves.

  Snow White helped herself to a Garibaldi and settled down. Nigel was always good value.

  …I want to talk to you all about diversity and I want you to think about whether this is a good thing.

  Snow White dunked her biscuit and smiled at her screen. Nigel was such an articulate man, able to make his point with a clarity and conviction that was sadly lacking in most politicians. And he knew how to work a suit and tie. The Des Lynam of the Far Right.

  …On the face of it we might find difference a good thing—after all, who wants everything to be the same? Diversity makes life interesting, no?

  But pause for a second and ask yourself what makes family so special.

  Snow White reached for a ginger snap. Nigel was on top form.

  Isn’t it the fact that everyone is cut from the same cloth? That you have things in common? That you are a homogenous group?

  Nigel ran a hand through his hair, still thick with flecks of grey.

  Whatever anyone tells you, it is perfectly natural for each of us to want to be with our own kind. Some might call that racist. I say it’s just common sense…

  ‘Mum, I’m starving.’

  Bugger. Snow White shut down the podcast.

  ‘Is there anything to eat?’

  The girls were home early. Nigel would have to wait.

  ‘I have scones,’ she said. ‘Or crumpets. You choose.’

  ‘I know a man who knows a man. He’ll get you what you need.’

  Artan nods and hands the money to the Albanian.

  He doesn’t ask any questions. Knows he wouldn’t get any answers. He’s thought about this and nothing else since he met with the solicitor.

  These boys must pay.

  Chapter Two

  ‘You will be there, Mum?’

  Lilly looked up from the wash
ing-up bowl and smiled at her son. ‘Yes, Sam.’

  He stuffed the last spoonful of porridge into his mouth and beamed. ‘Sometimes you get held up at work.’

  ‘I’ve already squared it with the office and marked myself out in the diary with a fat red pen.’

  ‘But stuff comes up on those big children cases,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not doing those any more, as well you know,’ she said. ‘And would I miss the semi-final?’

  Placated, Sam collected together his kit bag and three bananas. ‘For energy,’ he said.

  Unable to find a tea towel, Lilly wiped her hands down her jumper. Suds accumulated across her chest. She tried to rub the bubbles away with her elbow but only managed to smear them around. ‘Damn it.’

  ‘Why don’t you get a new dishwasher, Mum?’ asked Sam.

  ‘I will,’ she said, and grabbed her car keys. She pulled at the front door with both hands but it wouldn’t budge. A wet November had swollen the wood of both it and the frame. Superglue couldn’t have attached them more firmly. She braced her foot against the wall and heaved. The door opened about a foot and she ushered her son outside.

  ‘We need a lot of stuff doing to the house, don’t we?’ said Sam.

  Lilly squeezed through the gap then braced herself again, this time with the heel of her boot against the stone of the cottage. She slammed with all her might. The door shuddered to a close, showering plaster from the roof of the porch.