A Place Of Safety Read online

  Jez put his hands together to make a mock gun.

  ‘The defendant and her friend had a plan to kill that day, and, tragically for Charles Stanton, they succeeded.’

  Jez nodded solemnly and sat down. Lilly wondered if the jury might give him a round of applause.

  ‘I thought you weren’t going to bother them with an opening,’ Lilly whispered through the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Oh, Lilly,’ he said. ‘Didn’t I say you were out of your depth?’

  ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

  Alexia slipped into the gallery and took the seat next to Snow White.

  The other woman frowned. ‘Are you following me?’

  Alexia laughed. ‘I hear there’s a big trial on, or something like that.’

  Snow White smirked.

  ‘Have you thought about my offer?’ asked Alexia.

  ‘It was hardly an offer, Miss Dee, more a request on your part.’

  ‘I thought we agreed we’d both benefit.’

  Snow White opened her arm around the courtroom. ‘There seems to be no shortage of publicity.’

  ‘But they’re not on your side, are they?’ said Alexia. ‘Most of the press are very PC.’

  She could see by the twitch at the corner of Snow White’s mouth that she had struck a chord.

  ‘Get me an interview with Valentine and we’ll both get what we want.’

  Jack sat outside Court Four and waited. Another witness sat opposite, a slender woman, probably a Middle-Eastern woman, her hair pinned up in one of those French bun things. Jack ran his hands through his own wayward mop. The woman was engrossed by her laptop, caramel fingers tapping. Jack opened his paper and tried to read. He crossed and uncrossed his legs, unable to settle.

  Giving evidence was always one of the worst parts of the job, with defence lawyers doing their damndest to trip you up and make you look a twat. Even the most honest coppers came out looking like diehards from the West Midlands Serious Crime Squad, and the fact that it was his woman who would be doing the questioning offered no solace. If need be, Lilly would chew him up and spit him across the room.

  At last, the door to the court opened.

  ‘The prosecution calls its first witness, Officer Jonathon McNally.’

  Jack groaned. He never used his full name.

  He walked stiffly to the witness stand and took the oath.

  ‘Could you give your full name please?’ said Jez.

  ‘Jonathon Christopher McNally.’

  Lilly stifled an hysterical laugh with a coughing fit, and Jack felt himself turning crimson.

  ‘Officer McNally, were you at Manor Park School on the day of this terrible event?’ asked Jez.

  Jack nodded. ‘Indeed I was.’

  ‘Were you on duty?’

  Jack turned his body away from Lilly. ‘No, I was watching my friend’s son play football.’

  ‘I see,’ said Jez. ‘And at what point did you realise the defendant and her co-conspirator were not merely supporters?’

  ‘My friend noticed them first, and I noticed her noticing them, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘I think I understand,’ Jez laughed. ‘And when did you notice they were armed?’

  ‘As soon as they reached the pitch I saw they both had guns.’

  Jez nodded at the jury. ‘They both had guns.’

  Lilly got to her feet. ‘Your Honour, I doubt anyone here is deaf.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said the judge. ‘Please don’t repeat the testimony, Mr Stafford.’

  Jez went smoothly back to his questions. ‘Did you ask them to put down their weapons?’

  ‘I did,’ said Jack. ‘And the defendant did give me hers.’

  ‘Immediately?’

  Jack thought back to Anna’s hand gripping the gun. Her hand had been shaking. ‘Not immediately,’ he said.

  ‘But Artan Shala wouldn’t be disarmed and you had to shoot him?’

  Jack shifted on his feet. ‘I didn’t have any alternative.’

  ‘I’m sure no one blames you for the action you took.’ Jez’s face was a mask of concern. ‘No doubt you fully believed that Shala was going to kill another child.’

  Jack knew the barrister was faking his concern. He didn’t care less what might have happened next, how Jack’s life had nearly fallen apart.

  ‘I believed Shala was still a risk.’

  ‘Just a couple of questions.’ Lilly looked up at Jack as if they were strangers. He knew she was at work but it was disconcerting all the same. ‘It was definitely Artan that killed Charles Stanton?’

  Jack nodded in what he hoped seemed a businesslike manner. ‘Most definitely.’

  ‘And it was Artan who you thought might shoot someone else?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Lilly glanced at the jury. ‘Not the defendant?’

  ‘She gave me her gun before Stanton was shot.’

  ‘Definitely before?’

  Jez rose. ‘My friend seems to have caught the habit of repetition for which she showed so little tolerance only moments ago.’

  ‘Apologies,’ said Lilly.

  Jack gave a tight smile. ‘It was definitely beforehand.’

  The court rules might have prevented Lilly from gaining mileage but Jack couldn’t resist making the point for her.

  If Lilly was grateful she chose not to show it and levelled Jack in her gaze.

  ‘Officer McNally at any point before you disarmed her, did you believe the defendant was going to commit a murder?’

  Jack took his time. He knew what Lilly wanted him to say. He knew what Jez wanted him to say.

  ‘In all honesty, I don’t know.’

  Lilly sat down, her face impassive. He had told the truth, nothing more.

  The whole thing was a travesty. A mockery.

  Charlie Stanton was dead and Snow White could see his killer from here.

  In any other country the girl would be locked up, the key well and truly thrown away. Or, better still, she’d be hanged.

  Instead, a game of cat and mouse was unfolding, with Valentine as the central player.

  Why were they even having a trial? The girl was not British, so what right did she have to British justice?

  The reporter was just as bad. Poor little rich girl, showing her parents she could make it on her own. Snow White could see through her like a plastic bag.

  She was right about the press, though. The liberal, leftist rags would bleat about poor treatment of asylum seekers and the lawyer would pounce on that.

  The guilty must be punished.

  ‘Right then,’ said Snow White. ‘We’ll rendezvous in Little Markham at 9 p.m.’

  The reporter couldn’t hide her glee. ‘You won’t regret this.’

  Indeed I won’t, Snow White thought, but Valentine surely will.

  ‘How’s it going?’ asked Sam. ‘Are you going to win?’ Lilly had phoned him as soon as she got back from court. ‘If you do, will she come back to live with us?’

  Lilly poured hot water over her Ginger Zinger. The bloody stuff was more addictive than good wine and she had tramped the length of Fleet Street to track another box down. ‘I don’t think you’d like that, Sam.’

  ‘Where will she go?’ he asked.

  Lilly ached with sadness for her client. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I don’t hate her, Mum, I just didn’t want her in our house.’

  ‘I understand that.’

  ‘And I don’t hate you, I just wanted to get away from it all.’

  Lilly felt a lump in her throat. ‘I know that.’

  ‘I’ve got to go, Mum, supper’s ready.’

  ‘How’s Cara’s cooking?’

  Sam groaned. His dad’s girlfriend was currently following a macrobiotic lifestyle.

  ‘For tea tomorrow we’re having lentil and cauliflower curry.’

  ‘That sounds…’ Lilly searched for the right word. ‘Healthy.’

  ‘When the trial’s over we should do something kind for Anna,’ said
Sam.

  ‘That would be lovely big man.’

  ‘We should cook for her,’ he said.

  ‘That’s a great idea.’

  ‘Where is she from, Mum?’

  Lilly sipped her tea. ‘I only wish I knew, big man, I only wish I knew.’

  ‘What are they doing here?’

  Alexia nodded at Blood River and Bigsy, who had just stepped out of the shadows.

  ‘We didn’t like your idea of a cosy Q and A,’ said Snow White. ‘So we thought we would confront Valentine ourselves.’

  ‘You can get it all down,’ said Blood River. ‘Take a few pics.’

  Alexia shook her head. ‘That wasn’t the deal.’

  Snow White snorted. ‘There never was any deal.’

  Alexia was furious. This was a golden opportunity. Platinum-plated, as her dad would say. It would give her the break she needed. She wasn’t prepared to let a bunch of idiotic Nazis ruin everything.

  ‘I don’t know what rubbish you’ve got planned, but I want my interview first.’

  ‘Shut up,’ spat Blood River.

  Alexia stood her ground. ‘I want that interview.’

  Blood River pushed her hard and she fell to the ground. It was hard and wet under her hands. He stood over her, his malevolent face filling her field of vision. ‘Which part of “shut” and “up” do you not understand?’

  He turned on his heel and Snow White led him to the solicitor’s cottage.

  Alexia scrambled to her feet, shaking dead leaves from her coat.

  ‘Fine.’

  Lilly pulled out her weighing scales and packets of currants, sultanas and raisins. Each year, at about this time, she and Sam made the pudding ready for Christmas. In the depths of dark November, when half term was long finished, it reminded them that a whole week of eating, present unwrapping and slumping in front of the telly lay ahead.

  Sam might not be with her tonight but Lilly was buggered if she wouldn’t make sure Christmas was as much fun as every other year.

  And, let’s face it, there was no way she would sleep tonight so she may as well fill her time making something delicious.

  She grated orange and lemon zest over the dried fruit and, as the air filled with their citrus tang, Lilly’s mind turned to the case.

  The prosecution had closed, the entire case wrapped up in a day. No doubt Jez had wanted to make more of it, but Lilly had accepted most of it. She didn’t dispute that her client was there with a gun. The argument rested on her state of mind. Could Catalina have had the requisite intention, or had her reasoning been impaired by the rape?

  Lilly poured over rum, barley wine and Guinness. The smell made her nose wrinkle. It was a standing joke with Sam that Lilly would usually polish off any leftover alcohol but tonight she didn’t fancy it. Tomorrow she would open the case for the defence and that was making her stomach churn.

  Alexia’s heart was pounding. Her anger had dissolved to fear as Blood River and Bigsy approached the porch. These men had smashed windows and cars. They had thrown dog mess in court. They had kicked and punched two women.

  ‘What are they going to do?’ she hissed.

  Snow White waved the enquiry away like a fly.

  ‘That poor woman has done nothing wrong,’ said Alexia.

  ‘You didn’t give any thought to her wellbeing when you posted her picture all over your torrid little newspaper.’

  Alexia felt winded. It was true. She had hidden in the bushes like a dirty sneaky thief and revealed to the world that Petrescu was living with her lawyer. She’d even used a picture of the boyfriend, a decent, honest copper, who had got himself entangled in a mess he didn’t deserve.

  ‘This is all wrong,’ she said.

  Snow White ignored her, rapt with her racist friends.

  Alexia shuddered. The woman seemed almost turned on.

  They watched the men creep to the side of the house, whispering to one another.

  ‘Not more smashed windows,’ said Alexia. ‘The noise will frighten her son.’

  One look at Snow White’s face told Alexia she couldn’t care less who was in the cottage.

  The two men shuffled on the spot, retrieving something from a rucksack. Not another brick, please. Alexia craned her neck to see, but Blood River was almost swallowed by the darkness. She could see almost nothing but his outline until he lit a match, its yellow flame dancing around his face.

  Too late Alexia saw the milk bottle, a rag stuffed in the top.

  Too late she saw the material catch, fire licking the air.

  Too late she saw Blood River throw the bottle and watched it explode through an upstairs window.

  ‘Stop,’ Alexia screamed. ‘She has a little boy in there.’

  The house was burning. Too late.

  The noise was tremendous. An ear-ripping crash followed by a whoosh. Her immediate reaction was that there had been another terrorist attack.

  Lilly had been stirring the mixture, making wishes, one for herself and one for Sam, when she heard it, dropped her spoon and ran upstairs. She threw open her bedroom door and saw a riot of colour. Oranges, reds and yellows.

  Too shocked to move, Lilly watched the flames flash across the curtains, the walls and the ceiling. With a frightening speed the room was engulfed. Water, she needed water. She ran to the ensuite bathroom at the furthest end of the room and ran a towel under the tap. She tried to lash out at the flames, damp them down but now the room was filled with black smoke that tore at her eyes and made her choke. She needed to get out.

  Which way was the door? Which way was out?

  Both left and right was blocked and Lilly backed up until she was trapped against the wall.

  ‘Give me your hand.’

  Lilly couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. She could feel herself fading.

  Through the miasma she caught the faint outline of a hand.

  Was it a hand?

  She held out her own as the blackness started to take her.

  ‘That’s about it, love.’ The fireman patted her on the back. ‘It could have been a lot worse.’

  Lilly looked at her cottage, the walls stained black with soot, water dripping off every surface.

  ‘You reckon?’

  He gave a sympathetic shrug. ‘Got somewhere to stay?’

  Lilly closed her eyes. She couldn’t go to Jack’s, he’d be fired on the spot. She didn’t dare tell David what had happened, at least not yet.

  ‘She can come back to mine.’

  It was the woman who had dragged her out of the house. She had stayed while they revived Lilly with oxygen and while the police asked a million questions.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Lilly. ‘But who are you?’

  The woman held out her hand. ‘Alexia Dee.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Lilly. ‘You’re the woman who took my bloody photo.’

  * * *

  Alexia pulled two beers from the fudge and handed one to Lilly.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a Ginger Zinger?’ asked Lilly

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘No worries,’ said Lilly ‘Beer’s fine.’

  She looked around Alexia’s flat. The generic prints of ballerinas seemed at odds with the glamorous young woman in her expensive shoes.

  ‘I still don’t understand why you were there.’

  ‘Do you want the truth?’ asked Alexia.

  ‘It usually works for me.’

  ‘I wanted to interview you and I asked someone to make the introduction.’

  Lilly cocked her head. ‘You thought I’d be swayed by a firebomb-throwing xenophobe?’

  ‘One of them is a parent at Manor Park.’

  Lilly was stunned. ‘You’re joking?’

  ‘I wish I were.’

  ‘And you had no idea what they were going to do?’

  Alexia threw up her hands, sending bubbles spiralling across the carpet. ‘God, no,’ she said. ‘I would never have agreed to something like that.’

  Lilly nodded. ‘Then thank you
.’

  ‘For what?’

  Lilly laughed. ‘For saving my life.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ Alexia’s eyes filled with tears. ‘If I had acted as soon as I suspected something was wrong, I might have been able to stop them.’

  Lilly collapsed onto the sofa. It was brown and uncomfortable.

  ‘That’s exactly how I feel about Charlie Stanton,’ she said. ‘Artan Shala came to me after Catalina was raped and I knew what he was going to do.’

  ‘He told you?’

  ‘Not in so many words,’ said Lilly. ‘But I could sense it would be bad.’

  ‘But you can’t blame yourself,’ said Alexia.

  Lilly raised her eyebrows. ‘Can’t I?’

  ‘That’s why you’ve got so involved in this case.’ Alexia pointed her bottle at Lilly. ‘You’re trying to make amends to the girl.’

  ‘Thank you, Dr Freud.’

  ‘Do you think it was the rape that sent them over the edge?’ asked Alexia.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Lilly. ‘But I’m going to have one hell of a job proving it.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Drip, drip, flipping drip.

  Luke watches the endless rain. Last night it poured relentlessly and it hasn’t stopped this morning.

  The weather wasn’t something he used to give much thought to. If it was cold, Mum turned up the heating; and the boarding house was always stifling. He’d known Tom to mooch around in his shorts in February. When you were homeless it was different. You got damp right to your underwear and there was nowhere to dry your clothes, so everything began to smell of mould.

  He can’t even hang out in the Black Cat, because the owner is really annoyed that he messed up in the factory after he’d been the one to put Luke on to it.

  ‘You stacking?’ he asks Caz. It’s not that he needs it, but getting off your head just makes days like this go so much quicker.

  Caz shakes her head and wipes her nose with her sleeve. She’s grumpy too.

  ‘Got any cash?’

  He empties his pocket and shows her the collection of five-and ten-pence pieces.

  They’ll have to go out begging.

  He peers out into the downpour.

  Great.

  ‘Try this.’

  Alexia held out a black jersey wrap dress. It was elegant and stylish. It was a size eight.