The Tightrope

by Hiba Basit

  ‘What do we do?’

  ‘We don’t do anything. We simply wait.’

  ‘For what?’

  She shoots him an annoyed look. ‘For Mali to come to us when she’s ready. Her parents are already making sure she is safe.’

  He sits back, forking the different pieces of salad aimlessly back and forth. ‘I don’t know how you do this day to day,’ he exclaims.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Remain so calm in such calamitous situations. I mean, if this were one of your cases, I would agree with you. But this is Mali. Our goddaughter!’

  She slams her hand against the table, a motion that sends jitters down his back. ‘I don’t think you quite understand what she’s going through if he has raped her. He’s most likely made her believe that she’s in love with him, that she willingly consented to have sex with him. She’s not going to let you beat her boyfriend up just yet.’

  ‘Boyfriend? Shit, Annette! What’s gotten into you? That guy’s a paedophile!’

  ‘I’m not saying he isn’t! I’m saying that if someone came and smashed my face in, I don’t think you’d have a good opinion of them.’

  ‘How is that the same thing?’ he asks.

  ‘Because it’s possible that she loves him right now as much as you love me.’ In the silence that follows, she swallows her coffee down in one go while he watches her with growing consternation. ‘Like I said, Mel and Matt are the parents, we need to be the ones she can turn to talk to, and she will!’

  ‘I’ll go pay for our food.’ He gets up and waits in line at the counter. She turns to stare at the drizzling rain, her spirits already sagging after their conversation. She thinks about lifting the mood when he returns and starts pondering over ways to change the topic.

  ‘Annie!’ She spins around and watches David hit the button for the lift. ‘Sorry,’ he calls, as people start to look up. ‘This is just something I don’t agree with you on!’ She leaps out of her chair and stumbles.

  ‘David!’ she warns, grabbing her purse and running towards him, but the lift opens and he steps inside without looking back. She quickly reaches for her phone and dials his number.

  ‘David! Don’t you dare do this!’ she hisses at the answering machine. ‘I will never forgive you! For God’s sake, you’re going to throw a bombshell at them all in less than a minute! If you have any sense and respect my professional opinion you won’t tell anyone anything!’

  Feeling frantic with dread, she calls Mali but it goes straight to voicemail. She swears furiously, running down the stairs towards her car. The meeting with Andrei is less than an hour away. It’s going to take forty minutes getting there, let alone to pass the prolonged security measures to enter his cell. She switches the engine on and swiftly reverses out of the car park. She tries to spot David’s car, hoping that someone has busted all of his tyres or wrecked his entire good-for-nothing car, for all she cares right now. Frustratingly, she sees nothing.

  When she reaches the exit, she turns in the direction of the prison, slipping into the long road that will ultimately lead her to her strangler. From the side of her eye, her phone starts to flash. She breaks into a slip road and reads the four words Mali has sent.

  What did you say?

  She stares at her reflection in the mirror, snared by Mali’s message. She finds herself leaving a hurried message at the prison. Then, she hits the pedal and sharply manoeuvres the car around, speeding back in the direction she came from, heading towards Mali’s place, where she knows David will be waiting for her.

  The house looks deserted from the outside as Annette walks up the front steps. Either no one is home, or everyone inside is silent. The latter thought puts her on edge. Suddenly, turning around and rushing to the prison feels like a better option.

  She knocks too loudly, in the hope of covering her unease with confidence. Or maybe she has always knocked loudly, but their house has never been so quiet.

  Matt opens the door, just as he did at Amelie’s party. She waits to gauge his reaction, but as soon as he sees her, he follows her out into the rain and slips his arms around her, as a gesture of greeting or to seek comfort, she can’t tell.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she asks, holding him. Her voice wavers.

  ‘You should come inside.’

  She follows him into the kitchen where, sure enough, Mel and David stand side-by-side, leaning against the counter. She shoots David a chilled look but he just shakes his head unapologetically.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she asks again, coughing as the words get stuck in her throat.

  ‘We got a call from Mali’s personal advisor. He said he’d seen her leave with her gym teacher a few days ago. When he inquired about it today, he found out that he’d left his position at the school unexpectedly. He then spoke to Mali and asked about why she was with him that day, but she didn’t respond. Only when he told her that her gym teacher had resigned from his position did she finally hint at a relationship between the two of them.’

  ‘What else?’ Annette insists, looking at them in turn. A fat lump lodges itself in her throat, because she’s asked the question but doesn’t want to hear the answer.

  ‘Mali confessed he had sex with her.’

  ‘Mali said that?’ Annette asks, pointing the question at David, still wondering if they’re covering up for him since these were the exact words she told him earlier in the canteen.

  ‘They were together again just before she came in for her first lesson. She also wouldn’t give the school the number she uses to contact him.’ Suddenly, she recognises the cause of the expanding lump in her throat.

  ‘Is Mali upstairs?’ It feels like ages before anyone answers.

  ‘No.’

  ‘If the school’s already contacted you, then where is she?’

  ‘She was at the police station. They’ve taken her to hospital,’ Matt mutters.

  ‘Right, let’s get going!’

  But nobody moves. Her heart gives an unsteady beat. Annette glares at Melissa, who hasn’t said one word since she arrived.

  ‘I just can’t deal with this right now,’ Melissa whispers, rubbing her pregnant stomach as if this justifies her response. Annette stares at her in disbelief.

  ‘Mel, I know this is all a big shock and doesn’t feel real, but your daughter needs you right now.’

  ‘It’ll be better if I wait for her here,’ she replies quietly, eyes averted. Annette is speechless, feeling shocked and bewildered.

  ‘Listen, Mali will have to go into an exam room. They’re going to take evidence from her. She’s going to need your support, both of you, so move it!’

  Melissa turns her back to Annette and shuts her eyes. David leans a hand on her arm. ‘Annie’s right,’ he says. ‘You’re going to hate yourself if you’re not with her right now.’

  ‘I think we’ll wait for her here,’ Melissa says, shrugging his hand off her. Annette turns around and stomps outside. She accelerates as soon as David gets into the car.

  ‘Your hospital?’ she asks, concentrating hard on the road.

  ‘Yes. She was probably there when we were having lunch.’ Annette doesn’t respond. Instead, she hits the gas harder. ‘Listen, Annie –.’

  ‘I’m done listening for today,’ she says levelly.

  ‘Don’t be like that.’

  ‘Were you really going to tell?’

  ‘They found out through the school.’

  ‘If they didn’t, would you have told?’ The windscreen wipers screech back and forth.

  ‘I think they have a right to know.’ She remains silent. ‘Annie, I know we don’t agree, but I still have a right to an opinion.’

  ‘I know,’ she replies, feeling as though she’s about to cry out of sheer frustration.

  ‘Then, what’s the problem?’

  She bangs the wheel. ‘It’s how you went about showing your opinion!’

  They both stare into the distance in silence. Not wanting to fight, she finally tells him about Mali’s
text.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ he asks.

  ‘Tell her that I had nothing to do with it.’

  He nods in agreement. ‘At least you’ll be telling the truth.’

  ‘Yeah. I just hope she believes me!’

  She re-enters the hospital car park and slides into the first free bay.

  ‘Go ahead,’ David says. ‘I’ll get a ticket and catch up.’ Once inside, she enquires after Mali, giving the receptionist her full name and home address.

  ‘I’m afraid she’s in the examination room at the moment.’

  ‘Already? I need to be in the room with her.’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.’

  Annette clenches her fists. ‘Who’s with her right now?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t give you any details if you’re not a family member or guardian.’

  ‘I’m her godmother! You can still check if she’s got anyone with her because I damn well know that if she’s alone, I can go in there to support her!’

  The receptionist hesitates as David appears behind Annette.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.

  ‘Dr Coulter. This woman insists on seeing a minor who is currently in the exam room.’

  ‘This woman is my wife and the minor is her goddaughter. Now, could you check if Mali has a rape crisis counsellor in the room with her?’

  The woman quickly starts to tap keys into the computer, blushing a deep red. ‘I’m afraid nothing could be arranged for her at such short notice,’ she says.

  ‘What room is she in?’ Annette demands.

  ‘Exam room sixteen. Only one person can go in, and take this badge with you.’

  David takes the ID and throws it to Annette. ‘You go. I’ll stay in the waiting room.’ Annette nods and hurries down the corridor, glimpsing the silver-plated number before she reaches it. She knocks and enters.

  ‘I’m a family friend,’ she informs the examiner, who continues to inspect Mali after assessing her badge. Mali quickly turns her face away. Annette leans onto the examination table, only to be told not to touch it to avoid contamination. It’s at this point that Mali grips her hand and Annette’s heart clenches. The realness of the situation hits her. It’s heavy and painful.

  ‘Nearly there,’ says the examiner. ‘I just need to take a couple more pictures of these bruises. Stay still for me.’

  Annette squeezes Mali’s hand. Afterwards, she waits outside as Mali gets dressed, then takes her to the waiting room. Mali impatiently slings her school bag onto her back and speed walks over to David. ‘We’re ready to go,’ she calls, not waiting for a reply. In the car, she sits quietly in the back, staring out of the window at such an angle that her face cannot be seen from the front. Annette constantly finds herself glancing in her direction.

  ‘We’re here if you want to talk,’ she says softly, keeping her eyes on the road.

  ‘Talk about what, exactly? How mortifying that was for me!’ Mali glances at them. ‘So, where are Mum and Dad?’

  ‘They’re waiting for you at home.’

  ‘Waiting for me, are they? Mega shitness!’

  David turns around in his seat. ‘We’re here for you. That’s all we’re saying. Anytime, Mali, just drop by. Got it?’

  She turns even further away from them towards the window. Annette parks in the driveway and she hastily gets out and runs inside, slamming the front door behind her.

  David glances at Annette. ‘I guess we’re not welcome inside.’

  She shrugs. ‘I think it’s better if we don’t go in. Can you drive back home?’

  ‘Sure.’

  They step out into the rain and hastily swap seats. As David is about to release the handbrake, Matt rushes out and signals for them to wait.

  ‘Hey, guys, don’t you want to come inside?’ he asks as Annette lowers the window.

  ‘Maybe another time,’ David replies.

  ‘You sure? Come in. It’s fine!’

  ‘Matt,’ Annette says, as the rain continues to pelt down. ‘You can’t avoid this. She needs you and Mel, even if it doesn’t seem like she does right now. We’re here if you need to talk.’

  She leans forward and hugs him. Matt watches their car disappear down the wet road and then stands out in the rain long after they’re out of sight, trying to divine the course his family’s life is about to take as Mel’s cries from inside mingle with the rhythmic persistent tapping of the rain.

  ***

  Annette is ready early the next morning. In the kitchen, the kettle makes a loud humming noise. Gazing into the fading darkness outside, she blindly pins her hair into a high ponytail and shakes it side to side, making sure it’s tied up tightly enough. She takes a seat at the table with her mug of coffee and a statement of a child with special educational needs for which she was asked to provide a secondary evaluation a couple of weeks ago. She assesses the practice passage completed by the eight-year-old girl and computes the number of mispronunciations, substitutions, refusals, additions, reversal errors and omissions she has made throughout the passage. Without reading the initial psychologist’s statement, she writes her evaluation on the girl’s reading accuracy, speed and comprehension. She then writes a short appraisal of her free writing speed and the percentage of indecipherable words before slotting the notes into an envelope for the specialist assessor working on the case.

  At ten minutes to seven, David plods into the kitchen in his reindeer slippers, heading straight for the coffee machine. She grabs her files from the table and stuffs them into her bag.

  ‘Love the Christmas slippers,’ she says, kissing him goodbye.

  As she makes her way to the prison, having managed to fit a meeting with Andrei for early that morning, she consumes two more cups of coffee and a buttered scone. By the time she arrives, she is bustling with energy and ‘pumped up’, as Santana would say. She hands her belongings to security and passes through the metal detector, which identifies her watch as a lethal weapon. Snapping it off, she throws it at the tray, feeling irritated by the tedious procedure.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to use the screen room?’ the guard asks as she enters.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she assures him, already keeping a close eye on Andrei.

  ‘She’s a brave one,’ Andrei jokes, as the guards pass him to stand at the back of the room. Annette takes a seat and pulls a notepad and pen out of her bag.

  ‘Here come the dummies,’ he quips.

  ‘Dummies?’ she asks nonchalantly, starting a Christmas shopping list. He waits, expecting her to say something more.

  ‘So, you’re not going to talk to me today?’

  She glances at him briefly. ‘I’m talking to you.’

  He shifts uneasily. ‘Why did you cancel our last meeting?’

  ‘Something came up,’ she replies, continuing her list. ‘Doesn’t it work out for the best? You get to see someone on your birthday!’ He tries to read her expression but it’s unreadable. ‘Happy birthday, Andrei,’ she says, offering a tight smile.

  ‘Thanks,’ he grunts. She returns to deciding what vegetables to get for dinner when he lets out a long sigh. ‘All right, what do you want to talk about?’

  ‘I never said anything,’ she says, flicking her gaze at him.

  ‘Don’t be a wise ass. I know your tricks and ways.’

  ‘I know your ways too!’ she says coldly.

  ‘I don’t usually target women,’ he sneers, nodding at the dull marks around her neck.

  ‘Just imprint on little girls, then?’

  His face contorts. ‘You’re beginning to get boring. What will it take for you to leave me the hell –.’

  ‘I want to know about your relationship with Alex,’ she cuts in calmly.

  ‘What about it?’ he asks, appearing both intrigued and worried.

  ‘I need you to tell me what sort of things she used to say to you.’

  ‘Failing to find out yourself, darling?’

  Annette leans forw
ard. ‘Andrei,’ she warns him chillingly, expecting his response but in no way accepting it.

  ‘Well, I’m in this shithole forever, so I may as well indulge in talk about my ex-girlfriend.’ He waits for a reaction but she remains passive, trusting that her eyes have concealed her nausea. ‘Alex was special, is special. People knew I favoured her over the other children, but it wasn’t just because she was Maria’s child. See, she always had such decorum about her. I could see she was in pain more often than not and yet she hardly complained. She only asked questions about her mother, asking about her whereabouts, if she’d be able to find her when she came looking for her.’ He snorts. ‘That’s what I love about her, she simply accepts things for what they are, never retaliates, only obeys.’

  ‘How do you expect an eleven-year-old to fight back?’ Annette asks, her revulsion curling her lip.

  ‘Something she did enjoy was art,’ he continues, ignoring her question. ‘She loved it. I know because she drew so many paintings one day, I had to give her a good beating. Little shit wasted my paper. They were damn good drawings though, real sinister, loved it! Got them into an exhibition one day. They went for a lot of money.’

  ‘What exhibition?’

  ‘Can’t remember the name, it was two years ago.’ She jots a note to ask Felix if the police retrieved any paintings. ‘Now you can do some ‘art therapy’ with her when you get back, or whatever the fuck you do with her now!’

  He glances at her with disdain. ‘I’m telling you though, she’s always been a mute. You said I ruined her childhood, made her like she is now. Well, that first year I looked after her, she was as mental as she is now. Her life is meant to be tragic. She’s a fucking disaster waiting to happen, probably going to end up a whore like her cunt of a mother.’

  Annette pictures Alex in the orphanage, propelled into the corner as Andrei shouts foul abuse at her. How many times does a child need to hear they’re worthless before they begin to believe it? How many times did he tell Alex she is a ticking time bomb? How many times was she made to believe that her mother didn’t love her and that she was all alone in the world?

  Annette rises, as calmly as she can manage. ‘I think we’ve come to the end of our meetings. I will say, I’ve never felt as much displeasure with someone as I have with you.’ He lets out a theatrical sigh.