‘Slow down, Kate. Take it easy. Did you get a look at the guy?’
‘Yes. I saw him outside the supermarket and then getting into the car. I think I’d recognise him again.’
‘Oh God,’ said Imran quietly. ‘I was so scared this would happen to her. Poor Halima.’ He paused. ‘What did you do then?’
‘I ran out after them, but the man bundled her into a car and drove off – that’s when her mobile fell in the road. I got the car number and I’ve been to the police and they phoned your father.’
‘Good. I’m glad you’ve been to the police already. What did my father say to them.’
‘Apparently, he said it was fine, that she was with her cousin and he knew all about it…’
‘What! That can’t be right! I’m sure my father wouldn’t go along with a kidnap.’
There was an awkward silence. I didn’t reply. I didn’t know what to think any more.
Imran cleared his throat. ‘But how did the guy find her? She’s been so careful. She wouldn’t even tell me where she was living.’
‘I think it was through me,’ I said miserably. ‘I guess someone’s been watching me and they knew I’d lead them to her.’ Suddenly I felt tired and desolate. ‘Imran, we must do something. We must find her.’
‘Of course. Of course we must find her. If we don’t, she’ll be taken out of the country and forced to marry this man from Saudi.’
‘But she hasn’t got a passport. She told me. Your father has it.’
Imran gave a dry laugh. ‘That won’t stop them,’ he said. ‘She’s probably been kidnapped by a third party. Someone who’s being paid well to find her. They won’t worry about a genuine passport!’
Suddenly, the whole situation shifted subtly. My stomach clenched. Was he talking about an organised gang? A criminal gang? What was I getting myself into?
‘I thought it was just a family thing,’ I said nervously.
‘Mm, said Imran. ‘It may have started out that way, but when the family couldn’t find her, couldn’t persuade her, my guess is that the guy from Saudi – or his father – employed someone to track her down.’
‘No!’
‘Yeah. It’s a murky business, Kate. There are people out there who do this for a living – track down Asian brides who have gone missing.’
My mouth was dry and I swallowed. ‘What about your father?’
‘I don’t know any more,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think he’d ever… I’ve no idea what goes on in his head. I just don’t understand where he’s coming from. He must know something about it, to say what he did on the phone.’
I was talking quietly at the back of the bus, just another girl chatting into her mobile. I glanced round at my fellow passengers but they took no interest in me. Suddenly I had an idea. I lowered my voice even more.
‘Imran, there are women’s refuges out there which help girls like Halima. I’ve read about them in the papers. Why don’t we approach one of them?’
‘Well, yeah. I suppose we could. Probably better if you do it, though. They might be suspicious if I did… you know, a member of her family – and a bloke.’
‘Oh. OK. I’ll try. But I can’t do anything until I get home. I can’t search online till I get back.’
‘Where are you?’
‘On a bus going back to Oxford.’
‘Ah! So she’s been living near Oxford, then?’
When I didn’t answer, he went on, ‘Look. We can’t waste time. I’ll make enquiries and get back to you with some contact numbers as soon as I can. Maybe there’s someone in Oxford you can speak to.’
‘OK, thanks. But hurry, Imran. We must track her down before she’s taken out of the country.’
‘I know. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
I rang off and sat there, trying to arrange my thoughts into some sort of coherent order. I must stay calm. If the local police wouldn’t take any action, then we would have to. And we would have to do it fast. As I was thinking, I was scrolling down Halima’s contacts.
I came across one name and stopped.
Mahmood.
Should I phone him? Would she want me to? Was this interfering too much?
Hell, I thought, I’m already in this up to my armpits. She needs all the friends she can get right now, and I’m sure he’d want to know what was happening to her.
Before I lost my nerve, I pressed Call.
Please answer! Please don’t go into voicemail.
The phone rang for ages. Then at last, the voice mail kicked in. “Hi, this is Mahmood. Sorry I can’t answer your call right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”
‘Damn,’ I muttered, then spoke clearly into the phone. ‘Mahmood, this is Kate. I’m a good friend of Halima’s. She’s in a lot of trouble. Please call me as soon as you pick this up. It’s really important.’
Then I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes, waiting for Imran or Mahmood to ring back. I was too tense to relax.
For the moment, I could do nothing more. Not from the back of a bus speeding through the darkness towards Oxford.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Mahmood
When I picked up her message, I was elated. She had contacted me! Halima had contacted me, even though it was through someone else. Then, the next second I registered: she was in trouble. What sort of trouble? I imagined all sorts of horrible scenarios even as I was returning the call.
‘Kate, it’s Mahmood. What’s happened?’
When she told me, it was as if a knife was twisting in my gut. How dare this guy abduct her! How dare he! She must be terrified. What was happening to her? I couldn’t bear to think. Then I pulled myself together. I knew who Kate was. I remember seeing her at Habib and Asma’s valmina. I remembered how friendly she’d been with Halima. Kate with the wild red hair and the big green eyes and the pale skin. It was impossible to miss her among all the Asian girls.
She was talking again. I was so numb with worry that it took me a moment to make sense of it.
‘I’ve spoken to Imran,’ she said. ‘He’s going to give me contact numbers for people who can help and I’ll ring them, try and explain. Go and see them if necessary.’
‘What do you mean? Who?’
‘There are women’s refuges who help victims of forced marriages.’
‘Oh, I see. Yeah. Yeah I guess that’s one way we could go. But would they be able to act right away? We need to do something now.’ Then the fog cleared and I started to think more clearly. ‘What about the Government’s Forced Marriage Unit?’ I said.
‘What? I don’t know about that. How do I get on to them?’
‘Leave it with me. They’re sure to be online. I’ll get hold of them and tell them what you’ve told me. But…’
‘But what?’
‘They might want to speak to you, too. After all, you’re the only one who can describe the guy and the only one who knows exactly what happened.’
‘If it helps get her back, I’ll do anything.’
‘So will I,’ I said quietly. Then, raising my voice a little. ‘Look, I’ll get back to you just as soon as I have any news. And I’ll get straight on to Imran, too, so we don’t go over the same ground.’
‘Thanks, Mahmood. I’ll wait to hear, then. Bye.’
‘Hang on, Kate. Where are you?’
‘On a bus on my way back to Oxford. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.’
‘Oxford. OK. Well, I’ve got a car. If you need to get anywhere, I can help.’
‘Thanks. And Mahmood?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I know it’s hard for you to get involved in all this… what with Halima defying her family and all that, and you being related to Habib. I know it’ll put you in a difficult position with your own family and everything.’
I smiled to myself. I was sure now, despite everything that had happened. ‘Nothing would be as bad as losing Halima,’ I said.
There was a brief silence, and then Kate replied, ‘That’s what
I hoped you’d say.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Kate
The bus swung into the depot and I shrugged my backpack on to my shoulders and got out. I was so glad I’d phoned Mahmood. His last remark reassured me. He did care about her – really care – enough to put himself in a tricky position with his family.
I walked briskly to my rooms in college, and even in my anxiety, I took a moment to look up at the ancient magnificent buildings which surrounded me. What secrets they had seen over the centuries, what intrigues and what plots. And how many great people had passed through this place. I was so lucky to be a part of it. But I felt angry, too, when I thought that some man had been here, lurking in the quadrangle, perhaps watching my every movement, presumably since the beginning of term.
He couldn’t be sure that I’d contact Halima and go and see her. It was horrible to think that he’d been stalking me for days, just on the off-chance. He must have been very patient. And very determined. And, no doubt, well paid for his patience and determination.
As I climbed the stone staircase up to my room, Halima’s phone rang and I stopped and answered it.
It was Mahmood. ‘Kate, I’ve got through to the Forced Marriage Unit and they’ve been really helpful. They say they’ll have to act fast to stop her being taken out of the country and they’ve asked the police to put a trace on the car number you gave Imran. But they say it may be false. And they want to speak to you right away, to question you about the man and to get a detailed description.’
‘Hey, that’s great. They certainly don’t hang around,’ I said. ‘OK, give me their number.’
Mahmood gave me their number and a contact name.
I reached my room and dropped my backpack on the floor, and as soon as I’d got my breath, I rang them.
I got through to a very efficient-sounding woman and she questioned me thoroughly about what had happened, but when I started explaining the family background, she cut me short. ‘We are only concerned with the safety of the victim,’ she said. ‘We never get involved with families.’ There was a pause. ‘We’ll let you know if we have any news.’
‘Will they try and take her out of the country?’
‘Yes, almost certainly. They may even be on the way to an airport now.’
‘But surely it will take time to get tickets?’
‘You’d be amazed at how quickly these people act. They may already have seats on a plane in another name and false passports. They may be able to get a standby flight. There are all sorts of ways of getting out of the country fast. But we have contacts with the airport police and with social workers at all the main airports. We’ll make sure that they’re all on the lookout for her.’
‘Can I do anything to help?’
‘Well, can you remember anything about the man who abducted her – any feature that marks him out? Your friend may be on a false passport, so if you can think of any way we can identify him, that would be very helpful. Though, of course, he may not be with her. He may have sent someone else.’
And with that I had to be satisfied. I rang Imran and Mahmood to bring them up to date, and waited…
I was exhausted. It was going to be a long night. I closed my eyes and tried to snatch a few minutes’ sleep, but I couldn’t settle. My stomach was churning and I kept picturing Halima, drugged and terrified, probably in the back of some car, being driven to an airport, her future determined by people who cared nothing for her, who knew nothing of her hopes and ambitions. Who had no interest in her feelings but only cared about what they could get from her when she was delivered as part of some fiendish bargain they had struck with the man in Saudi or his father.
Halima must know that I wouldn’t just let it happen to her. Surely she knew I’d move heaven and earth to rescue her.
Hang in there, babe. Be strong. We’re doing everything we can.
I tried to think calmly, to relive those few moments when I had seen her abductor. What had the guy looked like? Was there anything which would help identify him?
When I’d seen him outside the supermarket with Halima in his arms, I’d seen his profile. Then he’d run across the road to his car. There was nothing special that I could remember about the way he moved. And then, when he’d bundled her into the back of the car, I’d seen his face. I guess he was about forty, with slightly receding hair. Greasy black hair, I do remember that. And he was clean-shaven.
And when I was banging on the window trying to stop him moving off, he didn’t look round. All I had seen was the back of his neck and his shoulders and arms and hands as he’d wrenched the wheel round and driven away.
There was something niggling away in the back of my mind. Was it something about his arms, his neck, his shoulders, his hands? Again and again I tried to picture what it was that was different about him, but it was no good. Whatever it was that had impressed itself into my subconscious wouldn’t be teased out.
Suddenly I felt hungry. How different this evening should have been! Halima and I should have been eating together, laughing together, swapping experiences as we ate the quiche in her room. Instead, I’d abandoned the quiche on the supermarket floor, and now I rummaged around in my room for bread and cheese to make myself a lonely sandwich.
The minutes crawled by. I ate my sandwich and made myself some strong black coffee. Then I paced up and down in my room waiting for the phone to ring.
I jumped when it rang. It was the woman from the Forced Marriage Unit again.
‘The car’s been spotted!’ she said.
‘What! That’s brilliant!’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Our contacts in the police have run checks and found out it was a false number-plate, and then they ran it through the computer for speeding and it came up!’
‘Fantastic! When? Where?’
A couple of hours ago. It went through a speed camera in Hounslow.’
‘Hounslow!’
‘Yes,’ said the woman.
‘Hounslow,’ I repeated. ‘If they are based round Hounslow, then they’re really close to Heathrow – aren’t they?’
The woman said nothing.
‘Oh God,’ I said. ‘Do you think she’s on a plane already?’
‘They won’t waste any time,’ she said grimly. ‘But our contacts at Heathrow are on to it. They’ll all be looking out for her. Have you a recent photo of her?’
‘What? Yes, yes, I took some this afternoon.’
‘Well, can you send one over to me right away, then I’ll forward it to our contacts at Heathrow.’
‘Sure. And… thanks so much for all you’re doing.’
‘We just want her safely back where she belongs,’ said the woman. Then she rang off.
Please don’t let it be too late, I thought.
I found the photo, a shot of Halima in the café, laughing, her eyes shining, pushing a stray lock of her long dark hair away from her forehead. Was that really only this afternoon? We’ll find you, I whispered. Then I hit the Send button.
I phoned Imran. ‘The car’s been spotted in Hounslow,’ I said.
‘Hounslow! That means…’
‘Yes. It’s really close to Heathrow.’
There was silence. Then Imran said, ‘Kate, if it’s been spotted round there, then I think I should go to the airport – just in case. Mahmood will drive me. If there’s any chance that she is there, I want to be there to look after her.’
‘But so do I!’
There was a slight hesitation and I held my breath. Was he going to tell me not to interfere, after all I’d done?
There was some muttering and then I heard Mahmood speaking firmly in the background. ‘Of course. Of course she must come.’
Imran was back. ‘OK then. Mahmood says we can be with you in an hour.’
It was the slowest hour of my life. I walked around my room, I looked at the photos I’d taken that afternoon, tried to read, to take my mind off things, but I couldn’t concentrate. At last the phone rang.
‘We
’re just driving up the High Street, Kate. We’ll pick you up outside your college.’
‘I’ll be right there.’
I heaved on my backpack again and ran across the quad, through the porter’s lodge and arrived on the pavement just as the car drew up. I scrambled in and Mahmood did a U-turn in the High Street and headed back the way they had come.
Imran was on the phone, talking rapidly. He acknowledged me, but went on talking. Mahmood was concentrating on getting out of the town, driving as fast as he dared as we headed up the hill past Oxford Brookes and towards the A40.
Imran snapped his mobile shut and drew the back of his hand over his eyes, then twisted round to speak to me. ‘I’ve been talking to someone at the Unit again. They say these gangs are really clever, Kate. They’ll have disguised her, probably given her a different passport. And if she’s on a flight to Saudi there’ll be dozens of women who look like her, wearing hijabs or even burqas. It would be impossible to identify her under a burqa.’
‘But she’d resist. Halima would yell out, tell someone she was being abducted. She wouldn’t just let them take her.’
‘She might not be able to,’ said Mahmood quietly. ‘She’s probably been given some weird drug and doesn’t know what’s happening to her. She’s probably completely disoriented. And if she’s wearing a burqa, no one will notice.’
‘Mm,’ said Imran. ‘And we don’t know what threats they’ve made. They may have said they’ll harm her family if she doesn’t co-operate – or harm you, Kate.’
This was alien territory for me. I’d never been under any sort of threat or in any real danger in my life. I suddenly felt horribly vulnerable.
We sped along the A40 in silence, each with our own thoughts. Then they were interrupted by the harsh tune on Imran’s phone.
He spoke urgently into it and then turned to me. ‘There’s a flight leaving for Riyadh in forty minutes,’ he said. ‘But no one with Halima’s name is booked on the flight.’
Payback Page 12
