A Place to Call Home

by Carole Matthews

  The man released his grip and held up his hands in surrender. Suresh rolled out of the way, but that didn’t stop Arunja from blasting away with the weapon. The shot hit the man in the chest and a flower of red bloomed, staining his crisp white shirt. The rest of the staff started to scream.

  ‘You fucking idiot,’ Suresh cried, his eyes wide in disbelief. ‘What did you do that for?’

  Before Suresh could scramble to his feet, Arunja revved the bike into life. He and his brother looked at each other eye to eye.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Arunja shouted, and then he roared off, parting the shrieking, panicking crowd.

  Suresh lay there amid the glittering jewellery, stunned into shock. His stupid fucking brother had gone without him. He’d left him behind. After all he’d done for Arunja, at the crucial moment his brother had abandoned him.

  He looked at the man lying next to him. His blood, the life that had seeped out of him, now stained the carpet, and the mangled hole in his chest said that there was no way back from this.

  Eventually, Suresh managed to stand, and he shook the glass from himself. There was blood pouring from the cuts on his hands and face.

  ‘Anyone else tries it and they’ll get the same,’ he said to the cowering staff, but he noticed that his voice wavered.

  The staff had backed far into the corner and none of them looked as if they were willing to tackle him. A lesson learned. But perhaps too late. In the shopping centre there was a crowd gathering, and with Arunja gone, he wondered how he was going to make his escape.

  Then a loudspeaker crackled out, ‘Put the gun down and come out with your hands above your head.’

  The police. Now what was he to do? Suresh peered out of the nearest window and all he could see was a barricade of black uniforms. The officers were in bulletproof vests; some had guns, some had riot shields. More were moving through the entrance doors of the mall, scuttling along the walls of the shops, taking up position. They must have been three-deep. The crowd were being hustled away now, out of the main shopping area altogether, clearing the space around the jewellery store.

  Suresh laughed to himself. After all his careful planning, it had come to this. He should have listened to Flynn, left when he’d said.

  He looked again at the dead man on the floor. Arunja had done this and had then made his own escape, leaving Suresh to take the rap. If he did get out alive, he’d kill Arunja with his bare hands.

  He heard the marching of boots on the marble floor. The police were closing in. His palms were sweating, slippery against the cool metal of his shotgun.

  This wasn’t going to end well. He knew that much. There would be no triumph in this. What could he do? Walk out of here, hands held high in submission, and give himself over to the police? He’d get years in prison. Even longer if he didn’t finger his own brother for murder. That would be more humiliation than he could stand. Who would look up to him then? Or he could go out in a blaze of glory, blasting his gun until the end. He looked out from the shop at the police in their riot gear, crouched behind their shields, ready to take him down.

  Lifting a handful of glittering diamonds from his shoulder bag, he clutched them in his fist. He opened his palm to gaze on his prize. They sparkled and shimmered at him, mesmerising and radiant under the harsh lights of the store. Had it all been worth it? Perhaps, briefly, it had. Then he let the gems fall through his fingers, showering them on to the floor around his feet.

  Suresh looked at the gun in his other hand. What a way to go. But he could see no other viable option. At least this way it was his way. The barrel fitted under his chin beneath his motorbike helmet with surprising comfort and then, with a feeling of inevitability, he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Eighty-eight

  ‘Don’t faff, Joy,’ Crystal said. ‘We’ve got plenty of time to get you to the airport. If you want to check you’ve got everything once more, then we can.’

  Joy was looking panic-stricken, rifling through all her belongings, checking and double-checking that she’d got her money, passport and ticket.

  ‘Crystal’s right,’ Hayden agreed. ‘There’s a three-hour check-in and we’re going to be there nice and early. We can even sit and have a coffee together before you go through to Departures if you’d like to.’

  ‘I just want to be there now,’ Joy said.

  ‘We should have got you some tranquillisers from the doctor,’ Crystal said.

  ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘I don’t take drugs. Besides, I want to be clear-headed and have all my marbles about me.’

  ‘They’ll look after you, Joy. I’ve made sure they will.’ Hayden had called the airline VIP service and informed them that Joy was flying for the first time. He’d told them that she was elderly, alone and nervous. After all he’d spent with them over the years, flying back and forth across the globe, they owed him a favour. He was in no doubt that she’d get very special treatment. He picked up her case while she had one last look in her handbag. ‘You’ll have an escort from the minute you go through Security until you’re safely on the plane. You never know, you might even enjoy it.’

  She risked a smile at that. ‘Thank you, Hayden. I’m so very grateful to you.’ She smoothed down her new blouse. ‘Do I look all right?’

  ‘You look fabulous,’ Crystal assured her. ‘I bet you end up picking up a toy-boy while you’re there.’

  ‘You do say the silliest things,’ Joy tutted.

  Hayden smiled to himself. Joy had reluctantly endured a Crystal makeover. She was sporting a new haircut, had a new capsule wardrobe packed in her case, and had perfectly manicured hands.

  ‘You do,’ Hayden told her. ‘You look ten years younger. Your sons will be very proud of you.’

  The attack in the garden had left Joy more shaken than she would have liked to admit. The cuts and bruises had long since gone, but it had taken its toll on her, he could tell. She was less confident now, more anxious. Hayden hoped this break away would do her good.

  They didn’t talk much about that day now. The police were supposedly carrying on their investigations, but he’d heard nothing positive back from them yet.

  From Ayesha there had been no more contact either. The postcard from Lyme Regis lay on his bedside table. Every night he looked at it before he went to sleep. Every night he visualised where they might be. And every night he fought the urge to contact her.

  When he closed his eyes now, though, he could see Ayesha and Sabina on the beach, playing crazy golf, eating fish and chips on the prom. What was she doing now? he wondered. Did she feel able, at last, to stop looking over her shoulder? He could only hope so. He understood why she’d felt the need to put the safety of her daughter before everything else. In her situation, he would have done exactly the same. That didn’t, however, make it any easier to bear.

  Joy let out a long, shuddering breath. ‘I’m ready now,’ she said.

  ‘Let’s load ’em up then.’ Hayden carried her case to the car. Crystal had done well. Everything Joy needed had been fitted into a small suitcase that she could manage easily.

  They all got into the car. Hayden hit the remote and the gates swung open for them. There was one lone pap standing there, who quickly raised his camera when Hayden swept past him. They all gave him the finger as he did.

  Less than an hour later, they were parked up and in the airport terminal at Heathrow. Hayden checked the departures board. The flight was up there already and looked as if it was on time. They checked in Joy’s luggage with ease. This had to bode well.

  ‘Do you want a coffee or do you want to go straight through?’ he asked.

  ‘Coffee,’ Crystal announced before Joy could reply. She put her arm through Joy’s. ‘I don’t want you to rush off, you daft old bat. I want to say goodbye properly.’ Crystal had a tear in her eye. ‘I hate airports.’

  ‘Let’s sit for five minutes,’ Joy said. ‘I still feel all of a jitter. It’s very crowded here, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’ll be frantic unt
il you get through Security, Joy,’ Hayden warned. ‘Then you’ll be in the care of the executive lounge, which is an oasis of calm.’

  There was a Costa Coffee on the concourse that wasn’t too busy, and Hayden found them a table tucked away in the corner. He took their order and went to the counter, leaving Joy and Crystal chatting. They’d both miss Joy more than they cared to admit, he thought. It would be strangely empty at the house without her. It had been bad enough since Ayesha and Sabina had left. What would it be like now, with just him and Crystal rattling around in that huge place? Perhaps he should downsize, move to somewhere smaller. But, if he was honest, he worried about being alone now. He’d got so used to someone always being around that he didn’t think he could cope on his own. He might not always want to socialise, but it was good to know there was someone there for him.

  He ordered their coffees. Crystal and Edgar were getting along nicely. She seemed to be really serious about him and it looked as if he felt exactly the same about her. That was good to see too. Would Crystal want to move out to be with Edgar? Perhaps, when the time came, Edgar could move in with them too. Or would that be too weird? Sometime he might be forced to let go of Crystal as well, but that was too difficult to even contemplate.

  If only Ayesha hadn’t felt that she had to go. Life had been so much easier, so much happier, with her and Beanie around. But dwelling on what might have been wasn’t going to bring her back.

  Taking the drinks from the barista, he headed back to the table. Crystal and Joy were still deep in conversation and Joy was laughing, which made him worry less about her. Crystal was holding Joy’s hand across the table and it made him think again what a very good friend Crystal was to have.

  He sat down and gave them both their drinks. On the table next to them there was an abandoned newspaper, and Hayden reached over to grab it. He rarely kept up with what went on in the world these days, as most of it was too harrowing to bear. When Laura died, the papers had been filled with nonsense about them both, and he’d hardly ever looked at them since. It was probably weeks since he’d seen a newspaper. The last time he’d looked at the nationals was when he thought the picture of him and Ayesha might appear in them.

  This newspaper was a couple of days old, so he assumed a traveller must have dumped it here when he’d finished with it.

  It was a red-top tabloid. The sort of rag he hated most of all. The paper was crumpled at the corners, well thumbed, and he flicked it open, leafing through the pages aimlessly. The front-page headline, predictably depressing, was about an armed raider who’d turned his gun on himself during a robbery at a jewellery store. Hayden shook his head.

  ‘What are you looking so glum about?’ Crystal said.

  ‘Why are newspapers always so depressing?’ He turned the newspaper towards her and she frowned as she scanned the headline.

  ‘“Gunman shoots himself.” So what? Good riddance, I say.’ Crystal tutted. ‘The poor people in that shop must have been terrified.’

  Hayden flicked his eyes over the story, not taking it in. He didn’t really want to read this stuff. Wasn’t there ever any good news that they could celebrate?

  Then, as he was about to abandon the tabloid, his eyes alighted on the gunman’s name. Suresh Rasheed. His stomach churned. That was the name of Ayesha’s husband. Surely it couldn’t be him.

  ‘What?’ Crystal stared at him, concerned. ‘You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’

  He passed the paper to her and pointed at the name. Crystal looked closely at it and then gasped aloud.

  ‘That’s got to be Ayesha’s husband,’ Crystal said. ‘Hasn’t it?’ She handed it to Joy. ‘The raid was in the shopping centre at Milton Keynes,’ she continued. ‘That’s where she was living before she came to us, wasn’t it? It’s got to be him. Who else could it be?’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be too much of a coincidence for there to be another Suresh Rasheed?’ Joy agreed.

  ‘Do you think she knows?’ Crystal took the newspaper back and stared at it again, reading further down the article. ‘It’s him. I know it is. I can feel it in my bones. Ayesha will have seen the paper too, surely? She’ll call us, won’t she? Is it today’s?’

  Hayden checked the date. ‘Two days old.’ He could hear his own blood rushing in his ears. ‘Could it really be him?’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Crystal said.

  He looked up at them. ‘What shall I do?’

  They both gaped at him aghast, until finally Crystal spoke. ‘You should go to her, you bloody idiot. If this is her husband – and why wouldn’t it be? – she’s free. She’s free to be with you. There’s no danger for her any more.’

  His heart pounded in his chest. Could that be true? Were they really free now to be together? The thought shocked and stunned him. His mind was reeling.

  Joy looked at her watch. ‘I hate to leave now, but I should be going through to Departures.’

  ‘Yes,’ Hayden said, dazed. ‘We’ll take you to the gate.’

  Joy and Crystal cried and held on to each other when they stood at the entrance to Passport Control.

  ‘I’m only going for a month, silly billy,’ Joy sobbed.

  ‘I’ll have no one to nag me,’ Crystal sobbed back.

  Hayden had to admit that he had a tear in his eye too. It was a time of change and he wondered if life would ever be the same again for them. Joy was moving on, as was Crystal. Maybe now it was his turn.

  Crystal gripped Joy tightly. ‘Have a great time. Skype us the minute you get there. Cross your heart and hope to die.’

  ‘Oh, Crystal,’ Joy said, exasperated. ‘I’m hoping to get there in one piece.’

  ‘I’m going to be frantic with worry until we hear from you.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Joy assured her, drying her tears.

  When she and Crystal finally managed to let go of each other, Hayden took his turn to wrap his arms round her. ‘You have a great time.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘If there’s anything you need, let me know.’

  ‘You’ve done enough for me already.’

  He kissed her forehead and let her go.

  ‘Just promise me that you’ll go to Ayesha,’ Joy said. ‘As soon as you can. That would make me a very happy old woman.’

  ‘I will,’ Hayden agreed.

  He and Crystal waved as Joy went through Passport Control. They stood rooted to the spot until she was out of sight.

  ‘I suppose we’d better go home then,’ Crystal said, choked. ‘It’ll be dead boring with just you there, Misery Guts.’

  ‘And there’s Edgar,’ he reminded her.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do love him, you know.’

  ‘I know.’

  She cried again as they left the terminal and he put his arm around her and held her to him while she sniffled. But, despite his sadness at Joy’s departure, there was a lightness at the centre of his being again and a spring in his step.

  ‘I am going to go to Ayesha,’ he said.

  ‘Good! I’d only have to kill you if you said you weren’t going.’

  He laughed at that. ‘This is a time of big change.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Crystal wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘It’s never going to be the same again, is it?’

  ‘No.’ Hayden agreed. He took Crystal by her shoulders and looked at her tear-stained face. He didn’t know what he’d have done without her, but she was right, he had to let her go. ‘We’ve been good friends, haven’t we?’

  ‘The best,’ she sniffed.

  ‘I want you and Edgar to have the house,’ he said as they stood close together on the pavement, oblivious to the passing courtesy buses and the insistent roar of the planes coming in to land overhead.

  ‘You can’t mean it,’ Crystal said, taken aback. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Do whatever you want with it. If you want the house for yourselves that’s fine. If you want to take in other women who are struggling and need some space, then do tha
t too. I don’t mind how you use it. I’ll leave some money in an account for you to cover the costs.’

  In the drab short-stay concrete car park of Heathrow Airport, Crystal cried again. This time it was as if a dam had burst, and the tears flowed ceaselessly. He didn’t have a handkerchief to offer her, so she wiped her tears on his white T-shirt, leaving mascara tracks down it, and he didn’t mind one bit.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said when she eventually found her voice again. ‘Thank you so much. I’ll take really good care of it.’ Then she gulped. ‘You’re not planning on coming back, are you?’

  He shook his head. ‘No.’

  Nothing else mattered now. He didn’t care whether he sang another song, played another tune or penned another hit. He’d be happy to sink into blissful oblivion with the woman he loved more than life itself. All he wanted was Ayesha and Sabina back in his world, and he’d get that on whatever terms she needed. He’d buy her a farm, a beachfront house, a cottage in the country. Wherever she wanted to go, he’d go too.

  Chapter Eighty-nine

  ‘I’ll make some more vegetable samosas tonight, Ben,’ I say as I wipe my hands on my apron. ‘We sold out of them at lunchtime.’

  ‘They’re really popular, Ayesha,’ Ben agrees. ‘The customers love your cooking.’

  I look again at the new shalwar kameez hanging on the door by the cloakroom. ‘I can’t believe that this is mine,’ I tell him as I nod towards it.

  Together we ordered the pretty outfit online and it has only arrived today. I don’t think that I have ever owned such a beautiful thing.

  ‘You’ll look very fetching in it,’ Ben says with a wink.

  I think that he’s right and I’m longing to try it on.

  ‘The customers will love you more than they already do,’ he teases me.

  Ben is always very fulsome with his praise and it makes me flush with pleasure.

  I’ve been so very lucky in managing to secure this job soon after I arrived here with Sabina. When we fled to Lyme Regis, we spent one week in a small bed-and-breakfast guesthouse. It was a hard and frightening journey, but now I feel it was worth it.