Keep You Safe

by Rona Halsall

  She pictures the nanny in her mind, tall and brunette, with a full figure. Definitely all the physical assets you’d need to draw a man’s attention.

  He laughs. ‘One thing I do know, though… if it is the same guy, my mum and sister said they reckoned they wouldn’t be married for too much longer.’

  She frowns. ‘Why’s that then?’

  ‘I think there was a rumour they might have separated. Or were about to. I don’t know.’ He shakes his head. ‘Marriage on the rocks, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ It would explain why Tom looked so rough, but if they are separated, who is Harry living with? Tom or Elena? Her jaw clenches. Christ, is nothing ever simple?

  ‘I don’t suppose that’s too helpful either, is it?’

  Elena what? Her surname was something foreign, more or less unpronounceable and she’d never managed to store it in her mind. She reminds herself that she’s making assumptions. She doesn’t know for certain that Tom did marry Elena. The wife could be someone completely different. Anyone.

  She shakes her head and studies the pavement as she thinks it through. If Harry is living with the wife, how will she ever find him, especially if she doesn’t even know her name? The thought of losing him forever swells in her mind, growing bigger and bigger until there’s no room for anything else. Her body wilts against the wall and she’s oblivious to her surroundings for a moment, deaf to Jack’s voice.

  ‘Natalie?’ He touches her arm, and she jolts back to the present. ‘Look, I’ve got to go now, get this dog back to Mum’s, then I’m off to work. Can I walk you back to where you’re staying?’ She thinks for a moment, and decides it’s not a bad idea, his presence providing her with a camouflage of sorts.

  ‘Thanks,’ she says as they start walking. ‘I’m only down the road a bit. Just there, that cottage with the blue door.’

  ‘Oh, you’re at Mary’s.’

  ‘You know her?’ She doesn’t know why she sounds so surprised, given the close-knit nature of small communities.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. She’s my mate’s nan. Daft as a box of frogs.’

  ‘Is she?’

  ‘Well, renting rooms out to strangers. At her age. That’s not something a sane person would do, is it? Could have all sorts of nutters staying.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she says, thankful they have arrived outside the front door.

  ‘Present company excepted, of course.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She glances up at him, catches his eye. He looks like he’s going to speak, then stops himself.

  ‘Bye then,’ she says, after an awkward moment.

  ‘Um…’ He hesitates. ‘I was going to suggest… I don’t suppose you fancy having a drink tomorrow night, do you?

  Yes, she wants to say, a sadness aching inside her. It would be lovely to meet up with him again, but she can’t drag him into her mess.

  She shakes her head, knows she can’t be here tomorrow night, not with Lech and his henchman breathing down her neck. ‘I’m sorry, Jack. It’s not that I don’t want to, but I don’t think I can. I’m hooking up with a friend; it’s the only time she could manage.’

  He looks disappointed and she knows in another life her answer would have been different.

  ‘I was going to see if I can find that address for you. See what Mum and Fliss know. And there’s people at work who are into all the gossip.’

  There’s hope in his eyes and she makes herself reconsider. Surely somebody in his network will know where they live? It’s such a small place, everyone knows everybody else’s business. And her story may touch someone’s heart; a nanny who wants to meet the child she cared for. She gives him a smile. ‘Maybe I could rearrange. Tell you what, can I call you later? Let you know?’

  He smiles. ‘Yeah, okay. I’m on lates tonight, though.’ He purses his lips while he thinks. ‘Be better if I ring you. Probably after seven, but who knows what might kick off at work?’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ She finds the card with her number on and he taps it into his phone. Sooner would have been better, but if he’s at work, she hasn’t much choice. His words suddenly register in her brain. Work? She frowns, puzzled. ‘But I thought you were… isn’t being in a band your job?’

  ‘God, no. Be lovely if it was, but, no…’ He looks at the ground for a moment. Is he embarrassed? Then he looks her straight in the eye. ‘Okay, no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to put it out there.’ He swallows, looks worried. ‘I’m a prison officer.’

  Christ alive! She leans against the wall, wishing she was sitting down.

  ‘Oh,’ she says, her pulse steadily rising. Can he see the imprint of prison on me, or is that just an internal injury? Then she thinks about all the lies she’s told him and feels a little weak. They’re trained how to spot lies. She’s sure they are.

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ He sighs. ‘Bit of a conversation stopper, but it’s not a bad job. Pays well.’

  He doesn’t know. Hasn’t guessed. She starts to breathe again.

  ‘Wow.’ She nods enthusiastically. ‘Must be rewarding.’

  He looks relieved. ‘Oh yeah, it really is. I work with the juvenile offenders and, you know, they’re not bad kids. Most of them. There’s the odd little sod, obviously, but most of them are just a bit… you know, lost.’

  Suddenly, she understands where his interest in her may lie. She must remind him of his clientele. Another lost soul for him to nurture.

  ‘Anyway, I better be off.’ He pulls on the lead. ‘I’ll ask around, see what I can find out and I’ll ring you later.’

  She manages a feeble smile, watches him walk down the road and out of her life because a prison officer is not the type of person she can be interacting with in any shape or form. And now he knows where she’s staying, she’s got to move on.

  Thirty-Two

  Then

  The day after her conversation with the prison doctor, Natalie was taken to one of the houses by a prison officer called Beryl, a long streak of a woman, like an upside-down exclamation mark, with a tidy black bob and a face punctuated by a hook nose that drew your eye. Natalie clutched her bag of belongings to her chest, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar landscape. It was weeks since she’d been out in the open like this and she felt like a tortoise without its shell.

  I should be happy to get out of that place, she told herself, but still her body tensed, apprehensive about what was round the next corner.

  ‘Now let me tell you a bit about the house,’ Beryl said. ‘A lot of the women are recovering from drug addictions, so it’s very supportive, everyone helping each other. And there are therapy groups you can go to, just so you can, you know, sort out why you found your way to addiction in the first place.’

  ‘I’m not an addict.’ Natalie came to a halt as anger flared up inside. ‘My husband drugged me. Didn’t they tell you?’

  ‘Right.’ Beryl nudged Natalie onwards. ‘Well, like I said, the support’s there when you’re ready.’

  Natalie sighed. She doesn’t believe me either.

  They stopped in front of a two-storey red-brick Victorian building with two pointed gables at the front, like an M.

  ‘Here we are, then.’ Beryl led her inside and up a broad flight of stairs. ‘We’ll get you settled in first, then I’ll give you a tour of the facilities. Okay?’

  Natalie’s eyes widened when she entered her room and saw the two sets of bunk beds. She looked round the cramped space. Four of us, in here?

  ‘Now then, Natalie, I think this is yours.’ Beryl bent over a small cabinet and opened the door. ‘Yes, this one’s empty. You can put all your stuff in here.’

  ‘So…’ Natalie turned in a circle, taking in the rectangular room, with a toilet and washing facilities at one end, a large window at the other. ‘There’s four of us in here?’

  ‘No, love, not at the moment. You’ll be sharing with two other girls, so you’re lucky, you get to pick which top bunk you want.’ She made it sound like a treat.

  Natalie swallowed. Sharing a room
with strangers? No privacy. That thought alone gave her goosebumps. And where was she going to write her letters? There was no table. No space to think. Her heart clenched. How am I going to spend time with Harry?

  ‘Don’t look so worried, love. Linda and Mel are alright. Nice women when you get to know them.’ She gave Natalie’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘You’ll be fine. Better than on the Wing, anyway.’

  Natalie realised then that everything was quiet. Calm. No screaming or shouting, no running feet and she had to admit that the absence of drama would be a relief. She could actually see out of the window and if there hadn’t been a metal grille over it, she’d think she was in a park or on a private estate. She pressed her face to the glass and watched a group of women outside doing an exercise class. Others were sitting on the grass, chatting. Women walking to places and from places. Another group weeding a flower bed. She ached for fresh air and thought she could join them. One day. Maybe. Or is that asking for trouble?

  ‘So, the routine’s a bit different in here.’ Beryl leant against the door frame while Natalie unpacked her meagre belongings. ‘I think you’ll find it’s more relaxed. Same breakfast time. Then we don’t have lock up again until after lunch. Just for an hour. Then you’ve got all afternoon until teatime and association before evening lock-up.’ Like the doctor, her voice had a Welsh lilt to it, sentences flowing up and down in a hypnotic rhythm. ‘And in your free time you can do courses and join work groups. If you use your time wisely you can go out of here with all sorts of qualifications.’ She tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled at Natalie. ‘Or you can train as a peer mentor. I’ll give you a list of everything when we go downstairs. And there’s the library and the gym.’

  Beryl’s words jumbled together, too much information for Natalie to absorb, but one word caught her attention. Library? That’s where I can write. And outside, she could surely find a quiet space to be with Harry when the weather was good. Natalie’s hands unclenched and she smoothed them on her joggers, wriggling her shoulders to ease out the tension. This wasn’t sounding too bad now.

  Beryl came to stand next to her. ‘Did I mention the other support groups? There’s legal advice, and one for mothers to maintain access with their children and then—’

  ‘What did you say?’ Natalie was definitely taking notice now. ‘I can get help with access arrangements?’

  ‘Oh yes. Most of the women in here have kids. They’re a very active group. Lots of experience and they get very good results. They do special recordings for mothers to send to their kids on their birthdays as well. You know, reading favourite stories. Singing songs. All sorts. Put it on a CD, then they design a proper cover for it. Lovely, they are.’

  Natalie’s heart lifted and she smiled for the first time in days. This was getting better all the time.

  At lunchtime, after a tour round the site, she was shown to the dining room, a large room, half the width of the house, with a high ceiling and a bay window at the front. It was set out with five tables, four chairs at each and she was placed on a table with three other women. Beryl pointed out Mel and Linda, her roommates, but was called away before she could introduce them.

  Natalie’s good mood disappeared in an instant, to be replaced by a familiar unease. She crept to the table and slid into her seat, looked at her plate of food, determined not to catch anyone’s eye. She was the new kid at school again, new to the routines, the cliques, the order of things. Her stomach clenched, in no mood for eating. Her head filled with the clatter of knives and forks, the clack of plates being stacked, every sound amplified until it was almost too loud to bear. She wondered when she could leave. Do I have to ask, or can I just get up and go? Her eyes flicked around the other tables and came back to rest on the congealed mess of shepherd’s pie on her plate.

  ‘Natalie, isn’t it?’

  She glanced towards the voice and there was the girl she’d arrived with all those weeks ago. Natalie’s lips cracked into a smile.

  ‘Mali, wow! I didn’t know you were still here.’

  Mali rolled her eyes. ‘Oh yeah, like, for the duration.’

  ‘Right.’ Natalie nodded, as if she knew what that meant.

  ‘Do you want to sit on our table?’ Mali pointed to the window, where a couple of young women sat, looking at her. One of them wiggled her fingers in a wave and smiled. ‘Come on over. Get to know them.’

  Natalie rubbed the back of her neck aware that the women on her table were staring at her, their conversation hanging in mid-air as they waited to see what she would do.

  She ran her tongue round dry lips and looked at her plate. ‘Another time, maybe,’ she said, and put a forkful of lukewarm slop into her mouth. Her stomach growled and she silently thanked it for its collusion.

  Mali laughed. ‘I’ll let you get on. Sounds like you’re ready for that. Not a bad meal for a change.’

  Natalie watched Mali weave her way across the dining room and as she glanced back towards her plate, she caught the eye of the woman sitting opposite her. Mel. She was probably Natalie’s age, skinny to the point of being malnourished with a pointy face and big brown eyes. Thin, sandy hair hung to her shoulders. Don’t trust anyone. That’s what Katya had told her. Natalie glanced away, took another forkful of food.

  ‘Natalie?’ Mel rolled the name around her tongue like she was tasting wine. Natalie nodded, suddenly hot. ‘You’re Katya’s new girl?’

  Natalie frowned, flustered, a blush reddening her cheeks. Does she mean girl as in girlfriend? ‘Friends. We’re just friends.’ She put her knife and fork down, pushed her plate away. Her right leg bounced under the table.

  The women glanced at each other and laughed.

  ‘What?’ Natalie looked at Mel, surprised to see that her expression was one of concern.

  ‘Katya doesn’t have friends,’ said Linda, who was sitting next to Mel. She was at least sixty, her face wrinkled and worn, white hair cut short and teeth so even they had to be dentures.

  ‘Well, she does now,’ Natalie said. ‘She’s been brilliant to me.’

  The women gave each other knowing looks.

  ‘So, where is she? This friend of yours,’ Mel said.

  ‘She’s… she’s not well.’

  ‘You’re right about that. Fucking psycho, that one.’ The women erupted into cackles, like a burst of static.

  Natalie pressed her lips together and looked for the exit but all she could see were dozens of pairs of eyes watching her. Her leg bounced faster.

  ‘You know what she did, don’t you?’ Linda said, leaning towards her. ‘She stabbed a girl in the eye with a fork.’

  Natalie gasped. ‘No, she didn’t!’ She leant back in her chair, away from the woman and her spiteful words. ‘You’re making that up.’

  Linda shook her head. ‘Eighteen, the girl was. First time in prison. Now she’s blind in one eye.’

  ‘No! She wouldn’t do a thing like that. Not Katya.’

  ‘Listen, love. You need to keep away from that bitch. She’s the fucking devil.’ Heads nodded around the room, a low murmuring of voices, everyone having something to say on the subject.

  Don’t believe a word they say. They all want something from you. Katya had warned her, hadn’t she? And she’d been proved right so many times.

  Natalie’s eyes found the door and she dashed round the tables, feet pounding up the stairs and into her room. She climbed onto a top bunk, turning her back to the door, pulse racing. What a terrible thing to make up about someone. Horrible, horrible women. And she had to share a room with two of them.

  ‘Natalie? Is everything okay?’

  Natalie turned her head and saw Beryl standing in the doorway.

  ‘I heard there was a bit of a commotion in the dining room. Someone been bothering you, love?’

  Natalie wiped her eyes and swallowed. ‘They were slagging off my friend.’

  Beryl walked towards her and rested her arms on the edge of the bunk, her face level with Natalie’s. ‘Right, so whic
h friend would that be?’

  ‘Katya.’

  Beryl’s mouth hung open. ‘You’re friends with Katya?’

  Natalie nodded. ‘They said she stabbed a girl in the eye.’ Natalie wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘Why make up stuff like that?’

  Beryl sighed. ‘Well, love, it’s not made up, I’m afraid. That’s exactly what happened. They haven’t got to the bottom of why she did it yet. But the truth will come out eventually.’

  Natalie’s body curled in on itself, the news like a dose of poison. Katya had really done it? But why? She must have been in danger, been threatened. It happened all the time. Katya had said so herself.

  ‘I’ve heard there’s going to be an inquiry,’ Beryl said. ‘Somebody’s going to get into trouble. Probably the doc, because it’s not the first time that Katya’s hurt someone. That’s why she was on the Wing, you see. Where we’ve got a better staffing ratio.’ Beryl tutted. ‘Too kind by half, the doc is, if you ask me. Always giving people the benefit of the doubt, then one of us has to pick up the pieces. And now that poor girl has been maimed for life.’ She patted Natalie’s arm. ‘You’ve had a lucky escape, love. Katya turns, you see. In an instant. Jekyll and Hyde, that one.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘Unstable.’

  ‘But… but I can’t believe it. She said she was on the Wing because she was coming off Oxycodone, like me.’

  Beryl shook her head. ‘She’s a convincing liar, isn’t she? You know what she’s in for, right?’

  Natalie swallowed. ‘No, she… she didn’t say.’

  ‘She runs a brothel. Her and her brother. Several brothels, if you listen to what the girls have to say. She’s got charges pending for kidnap, extortion and money laundering. As well as dealing Class As. And a couple of years ago she got away with murder, literally, on the basis of diminished responsibility.’ Beryl pursed her lips, her eyes clouded with anger. ‘But then she can afford the fancy barristers. And that means you can get away with just about anything. Can convince the jury black is white, those fellas.’