I almost go weak with relief. Samir is safe and I let out a bit of a whoop. I text her back to meet Steven off the bus with Mohammed. Then I scramble back through the bushes, out of the Nature Reserve and around the back of the Lifeboat Station, scanning the beaches.
I can’t see anyone except Barney and Mad Murphy running over the beach. They almost look like a pair of dolphins rising and falling with the swell out at sea.
My head still feels very sore as I stumble back home. There’s no sign of the bus or the police. With any luck Steven and Mohammed will be in town in about twenty minutes while the cops are distracted chasing Terrence Bellows around the Island.
The next bus isn’t due for an hour. I need to go home and get some cash. I didn’t wait for change from the taxi driver, which was stupid. I’m just wondering how much money I’ve got, less than a pound I think, when my phone goes.
It’s Mum. She absolutely never rings my cell phone except in a dire emergency and the last time was when Grandpa died and all she did was ask me to come home really quickly. Why is she ringing me now? Maybe she’s had another fall and she can’t get up. I press the answer button.
“Alix, darling, where are you? Are you in town? You must come home immediately, or no, perhaps it’s better to go home with Kim, stay together whatever you do and I’ll get Kevin to bring you home . . .”
“Whoa, slow down, Mum. What’s up?” I say, but I think I can guess.
“There’s been a stabbing in town. Some sort of gang trouble. I thought that only went on in London. Anyway, Mrs. Saddler’s here, she heard it from Bert’s divorced son. His friend rang . . .”
“Okay, okay, don’t worry. I’ll be home in about one minute.”
I walk slowly to give myself time to think. The neighbors must have seen all the activity around here this morning. They don’t miss much. God knows how much longer we could have kept everything secret from them anyhow. Mrs. Saddler was already getting suspicious, wasn’t she?
Both Mum and Trudy fall on me when I get in the house. I don’t know who needs me more! Trudy is desperate for a wee so I let her out in the back garden. Mum’s totally emotional, blubbering all over her crutches as she stomps around after me.
“Thank God you’re home, you must have missed the gang, oh, Alix darling, I was so scared. What a day to shut the school. If you were all in class this would never have happened,” Mum rattles on.
I decide to keep quiet, the less I say the better. But the doorbell goes and would you believe it’s Mad Murphy with Barney. Mum has a soft spot for Murphy so she calls him in and it’s weird to see him in our hallway, looming over us like some sort of benevolent scarecrow.
“Make everyone a pot of tea, Alix,” says Mum.
Everyone? I put my head around the living room door and I swear half the street are there. What do they think this is? New Year’s Eve? Mrs. Saddler is sitting in the best armchair and Bert and his divorced son and the neighbor from the other side, with the twins, are all crammed on the sofa, and Barney is already sniffing around. Trudy’s come back in and she starts wuffing at him to play all over our tiny living room.
I come back a few minutes later with the tea tray and they’re all talking at once. “The police came and asked me if I’d seen any unusual boats dropping illegal immigrants, like, around Sandy Point,” Bert’s saying in his slow, ponderous voice. “We would have noticed that, wouldn’t we, lad?” and his son nods his head.
“Have you seen anything?” the twins’ mum asks Mrs. Saddler.
“Nothing,” says Mrs. Saddler, shaking her head firmly. But she’s eyeing me closely and I feel as though she can see right into my brain.
“Illegal immigrants on Hayling Island, how daft is that,” says Bert scornfully.
“No, it isn’t.” And everyone stops dead and looks at Mad Murphy. “Barney and me see all sorts no one else sees.”
I’m holding my breath as he pauses, and he’s looking at me in a really strange way. The room’s gone silent and I think, When he gives me away shall I run? Or just sit here until the police come?
“Like what, Murphy, love?” says Mum softly. I’ve practically died from lack of air.
Then Murphy gives Mum a huge smile and says, “A mermaid, Sheila. Coming out of the sea, with beautiful black hair. You’ve seen one, Alix, haven’t you?”
Everyone looks at me curiously and for a second I don’t know what to do. And then I say, “Sure, Murphy, I’ve seen loads of them carrying seashells and stuff.”
That does it. They all start laughing and saying stuff like, “Pass the sugar before the mermaid takes it all,” and “Does she have a sister, maybe your son could ask her out, Bert” and Bert laughs his sort of hyena-choking laugh while his son sits there with his usual blank look on his face.
Murphy has morphed back into the village idiot and he practically swipes Mrs. Saddler’s teacup from her, so Mum gently eases him out the door. I’m just about to escape to my bedroom and ring Kim to find out if Steven and Mohammed have arrived in town when the doorbell goes again. It’s Chaz. I can’t believe it.
“Alix,” he cries out as if we’re old friends. In your dreams, I think.
“I heard everyone was here,” he says in an excited voice. Typical, I think, news travels so fast on the Island. “You’ll never believe what’s happened,” and he pushes past me into the living room.
Mum’s face goes quite dark when she sees him but Chaz doesn’t seem to notice. “Have you heard about all them illegal immigrants?” he says to everyone. “Hiding out somewhere near the beach. You can’t trust them, you know, that’s why I moved down here.”
Trust Chaz to get his facts wrong. Just like the rubbish newspapers he reads. But what about the neighbors? What do they think? I look around the room at the people I have grown up with on Hayling Island and I think of all the times I could have asked them what they believed in and how I had never bothered. Well, I’m going to find out now, aren’t I?
Everyone shifts uncomfortably. It’s Mrs. Saddler who speaks out first in her booming voice, “What do you mean, ‘them’?”
“You know, asylum seekers and immigrants and all that. Come to take our benefits, that’s all they’re here for.”
Bert says, “Well, you can’t lump people together like that, right, lad? Got to give people a chance, like. Can’t just assume all foreigners are up to no good. Some people come from terrible places, right, lad?”
“Right, Dad,” says his son in a really loud voice.
There’s a bit of a silence and then I say nervously, “Everyone’s allowed to ask for asylum, we did it in school.” Chaz’s eyebrows shoot upward until they look like they’re going to fly off his face but a wave of shuffling and mutters of agreement wash around the room.
Yess! I think in relief and almost yell it out loud.
“Well, it’s all right down here,” says Chaz, “that’s why I love it here. But it ain’t like this in London, it’s like there’s no one white left . . .”
“Color’s only skin deep,” booms Mrs. Saddler, cutting Chaz off.
The twins’ mother mutters in agreement. “Bert’s right, you have to give people a chance.”
Bert beams and his son gives him a nod.
“We Islanders have always welcomed visitors,” Mrs. Saddler points out proudly. “Just like you, Chaz. We made you welcome, didn’t we?”
“Oh, I give them all a chance, me,” says Chaz quickly, and he’s looking a bit embarrassed. After all, these are all his customers. “I serve anyone in my shop, you tell them, Alix.” He turns around and fixes his eyes on me.
I feel myself go all red and hot. I don’t know what to say to that but Chaz doesn’t wait for an answer. He steams on, “I ain’t racist, me, just want to live among me own kind for a change.”
There’s a general muttering around the room and then Mum says, “We all know how hard you’ve worked in the business since you took over.” Here we go, I think, she’s giving in to him. “But,” she goes on, “I thin
k everyone here agrees with Mrs. Saddler that Hayling Island has always welcomed visitors. We expect you to do the same.”
Way to go, Mom! I think in American.
Chaz stands there for a moment and I can almost hear him thinking and then he says, “Fair enough.”
“Good,” says Mrs. Saddler in a tone that makes it clear that his views are not shared by the other people here.
Chaz rattles his keys in his pocket and shuffles his feet. Then he says, “Well, got customers waiting,” and I see him to the door.
As he starts down the path he hesitates and turns back to me. “Your job’s still open, Alix,” he says, and his eyes are sort of puzzled looking.
I think for a few seconds and then I say, “Okay, I’ll give it another go.”
His face relaxes into a slight smile and says, “Good, see yer in the morning, seven sharp?”
I nod and he goes off.
When I go back in the living room everyone’s talking at once. I’m really anxious to find out how Samir is. How much longer are they all going to stay? Mum’s even muttering about making another pot of tea!
“What did Chaz want?” she asks me.
“Oh, just to make sure I wasn’t late for my paper route tomorrow,” I say, holding open the living room door as a sort of hint to the neighbors.
Mum stares at me for a minute and then she says, “Hmm, well, see how it goes.”
She turns to Mrs. Saddler and says, “Did you know, Margaret, that Alix has been watching all about refugees on the news? She keeps asking such interesting questions.”
“I’ve always said she’s a clever girl,” says Mrs. Saddler with a smug grin.
Has she? That’s news to me.
Finally everyone starts to leave, piling their cups onto the tea tray and saying loud good-byes and to look out for mermaids, until it’s only Mum, me and Mrs. Saddler left.
“My Jeremy is very good at sniffing out anything strange,” says Mrs. Saddler mysteriously.
Then she says to Mum, “She’s a good girl, your Alix. Knows right from wrong. You’ve done a good job, Sheila Miller, and no husband to help you.”
Mum goes a bit red and I bend down to give Trudy a good cuddle so that they can’t see me looking embarrassed.
As I watch Mrs. Saddler go down the path, I think, You should never judge someone until you get to know them. Everyone deserves a chance. Even Lindy, I decide grudgingly.
Then Mum says, “Alexandra,” and I’m about to say, It’s Alix with an i, when she grins and says, “How about takeout?”
And then I tell her it was Samir who was stabbed.
36. Safe House
Mum is really shaken about Samir and she starts on about how dangerous it is in town now. “You’ll have to stay at home until the police catch the gang. I don’t want Terrence Bellows coming after you,” she says.
Is she mad? “I have to see Samir,” I say, pulling on my jacket and grabbing my keys. Trudy is whimpering up at me and Mum’s eyes are filling with frightened tears. “I have to make sure he’s all right, Mum, don’t you understand?”
“Alix, please . . .” But I’m already out the door.
It’s hard to leave her like that but I have to see for myself, make sure Samir is alive. There was so much blood.
And I’m also worried about whether Steven managed to get Mohammed safely away. This is such a mess and there is so much to sort out.
As I sprint down the path she yells out, “I’m calling your father,” but I just keep going.
A bus pulls up just as I get to the corner. I leap on, run upstairs and call Kim. “Where are you, how’s Samir?”
“I’ve just left the hospital,” she says. “They won’t let me see him. His auntie’s here and his brother. Not very smiley, is he?”
“Didn’t they tell you anything? Has Samir had stitches, what about his insides, they must be all messed up?”
“I don’t know anything, Ali, but one of the nurses followed me out and said not to worry too much.”
“I suppose that’s good, isn’t it?” But I wasn’t sure. What if his organs are sliced up, like his liver. Do you die if you get stabbed in the liver? I even think about calling Lindy with her first aid training, but I don’t know her number.
“I finally got hold of Steven, he’s gone with you-know-who somewhere safe,” says Kim in a whisper. “I’ll meet you off the bus.”
It’s a bit Lara Croft, all this secrecy, but actually, right now all I want is to make sure everyone’s safe and no one’s mortally injured. Not asking much, am I?
The bus is held up by traffic and I seriously consider jumping off and running all the way into town. Then we’re crossing Langstone Bridge. The tide is going out and I can see the remains of the old Wadeway stretching out in a long green line. The Wadeway goes back more than a thousand years. Before there was a bridge it was the only way to reach Hayling Island at low tide. I’ve tried walking on it but it’s very slippery with seaweed. If you fall off into the mud you can sink up to your neck in places. The coast guard has to rescue people every year.
Rescue. That’s all I seem to think about these days. So many people in my life need to be rescued.
Like my mum, who can hardly walk, has lost her job and now she’s applying for benefits. So why didn’t she tell me that?
My dad’s such a loser so even if we are going to start meeting up again—and I’m really glad we are because I didn’t realize how much I missed him until I saw him again—it’s a good thing I decided to give the paper route another go. With parents like mine I need to earn money so that I can rescue them.
Mohammed and Steven will need rescuing if the police catch up with them.
And what about Lindy? It looks like she needs rescuing from her brother, probably her entire family. She could have given us away but she didn’t.
No one’s going to rescue me. Not since Grandpa died.
As the bus pulls into town Mum’s words ring through my head, “What if Terrence comes after you?” I can’t help looking around nervously but there’s no sign of anyone from the Bellows family.
Kim almost drags me off the bus and starts pulling me down the road, speaking in a rapid, low voice. “Mohammed’s in a house near school.”
“Is it safe?” I mutter back as we hurry along. My heart is thumping in my chest and all I can think is, We have to get there before the police. How many more chances will we have before he’s caught? Before we’re all caught? A chill scutters down my spine.
Kim goes into a street I don’t know and knocks on the door of a middle terrace house.
The door opens a crack, a young man peers out at us and then says, “Come in.”
We go inside a narrow hall and a man with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail leads the way into the kitchen at the back.
“Mohammed!” I cry out, and there he is, sitting on a chair. I’ve never seen him on a chair before. He looks totally different, sort of normal, ordinary.
“Aleex, my friend,” he says, and tries to stand up but another guy who looks Indian, with short black hair, in jeans and a T-shirt, stops him.
“You need to rest, Mohammed, Alix understands, okay?” He looks at me and I nod.
“Pritesh,” he says, offering his hand and we shake. It feels very grown-up. “This is Jerry, we’re from RROK, RefugeeRightsOK. Your friend Steven contacted us and told us all about Mohammed and how you’ve been hiding him. That’s so amazing.”
Kim gives me a grin and I can’t help feeling a bit pleased. Mohammed is nodding and looking at me with his sad dark eyes and they remind me so much of Samir’s eyes when he was lying bleeding on the square, begging me to get to the hut before the police, that I feel tears welling up. Should I have gone to the hospital first? But Samir will want to know what’s happened to Mohammed.
Steven comes in and he and Kim hug each other as if they haven’t met for months. Everyone laughs and I feel a bit better. So I say, “What can you do for Mohammed?”
“A hum
an rights lawyer will come and meet him here tomorrow,” says Pritesh. “He’ll help Mohammed to put in an application for asylum through the proper channels.”
“What channels? How do you know that’s safe? They could send him straight back to Iraq.”
These two don’t look much older than me. What do they really know? Samir would never forgive me if I make a mistake now after everything we’ve been through.
Then Mohammed says, “I know you are scared, Aleex,” his voice calms me a little, it feels almost familiar now, “but you don’t have to worry no more. You are brave, you take me from the freezing English seas. I am dying from drowning and cold and afraid of being . . .”
“. . . beheaded.” It just slips out and Kim gives a gasp. The room goes very quiet and Pritesh and Jerry exchange looks. They’re probably deciding to send us home and I don’t know what I’ll tell Samir. Should I take Mohammed back to the hut?
Then Jerry says, “RROK is campaigning to change the law so that people like Mohammed who were interpreters for the British army in Iraq, even for a few months, are allowed to stay here. We’re very hopeful. It’s obvious that Mohammed has been tortured and that it would be very dangerous to deport him.”
That sounds a bit better. I look straight at Mohammed and say, “I don’t know if Samir would agree.”
Mohammed reaches for a bottle of mineral water on the table and takes a sip. His movements are slow and deliberate. I can see he’s in a lot of pain but he’s looking very thoughtful.
Then he says, “You must to decide for him.”
Everyone is looking at me—so no change there—and I feel as if I’m weighed down with a great bag of Hayling breakwater stones that even an elephant couldn’t move. I have to make the biggest decision of my life and it’s for someone else. For Samir. If he feels I’ve let him down then he’ll stay an ice man forever and never trust anyone again. What would he want me to do?
Then I remember his words on the beach, when he was talking about the river that runs through Baghdad and playing with his friend Daoud. Samir said he couldn’t be deported now because he has proper permission to stay.
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