by Hiba Basit
‘I don’t want to break into an orphanage which is so… noxious!’
‘And you think the children chose to be left in that place?’ he explodes.
She bites down on her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Felix. You understand why I can’t come, right?’
‘No,’ he says, without missing a beat.
‘We have to consider our safety too.’ She hears him sigh. ‘You can still go,’ she adds.
‘OK.’
‘What?’
‘What!’
‘You can’t go alone,’ she says shakily, now worrying for his safety.
‘You just told me to go!’ he shouts. She recoils, moving the phone away from her ear. She can already imagine his face reddening like a cherry.
‘I didn’t think you’d still go.’ She pulls the duvet over her head, his rage prickling her skin and making her feel panicky. ‘I’m sorry. I do my job legally!’
‘I won’t see you at four then?’
She pauses for a long time, staring into the dark space she’s created, wishing she could be close to him when she answers.
‘No,’ she finally whispers, and hangs up before he does.
The helicopter’s rotors whirl in Abigail’s ears as she anxiously waits for Felix to arrive at the top of the helipad. The police wait behind her, some dotted out in the cold air, others having taken their places inside. Eventually, a shadow emerges from the staircase below. Felix appears and catches sight of Abigail, his expression shifting from surprise to puzzlement and then to rage. Abigail makes a run towards him but he lifts a firm hand in the air and abruptly turns to leave. She hesitates, puzzled by what has just happened, and runs after him.
‘You dobbed me in?’ he shouts, spinning towards her. The wind slaps her hair in all directions.
‘What?’ she shouts back.
‘Couldn’t you take the fact that you wouldn’t be the central executive any more?’
‘This isn’t about me –.’
‘It’s always about legality with you, isn’t it?’
‘No. I have to tell you –.’
‘Abigail always abides by the book. Never takes a foot off track!’
Something flips inside her, as rapidly as a switch. She’s furious that he’s ended each sentence with a question and yet hasn’t paused to hear her response. She clears her hair away from her face and presses her hands over her head like a headband.
‘Will you be quiet?’ she screams, offended and hurt by his flippant remarks. ‘You idiot! I’m coming with you on your so-called mission, only this time we have back up. Do you want to know how, Felix? Because we have evidence. We found the evidence against Green Orphanage!’
A shadow of understanding crosses over his face as he realises what this finally means for the case. Then, he remembers what he’s accused Abigail of, but before he can make amends, she speedwalks past him, making a beeline towards the deafening helicopter. He runs after her and enters first, helping her on. The doors bang shut as the helicopter lifts off.
‘Where’s the evidence?’ he asks excitedly.
The policeman on board hands a memory card to Abigail. She slips it into the camera and loads the footage, passing it to Felix. As he starts surveying it, she notices his shoulders rise and fall. His face turns heavy with anticipation as the events on the screen unfold. She watches his eyes dart from one corner of the screen to another, most likely trying to catch a glimpse of everything. And then she hears the little girl’s scream, her cries echoing long after she’s stopped screaming, swirling in her mind like a whirlpool. With trembling hands, Felix turns the camera off and throws up at the back of the helicopter.
Abigail waits patiently by the window seat, staring at the dark world outside and watching Felix’s distorted reflection through the glass. When the vomiting finally settles, he sits with his head in his hands. The thrill he initially felt has vanished. She watches him from afar, feeling her own body deflate, as she realises they’ve taken too long to reach this point. Eventually, when she can no longer bear to see him in pain, she moves towards him and puts her hand on his shoulder.
‘The pair who recorded this are waiting for us at Pascani,’ she says. ‘They were out in the woods when their car broke down and they found shelter near a gate. They witnessed the episode the next morning after the girl attempted suicide.’ Felix looks guilt-ridden. ‘Hey, there are five more helicopters right behind us. We’ve got this!’ Suddenly, a worrying thought strikes her. ‘Did you call Annette?’
Felix shakes his head. Abigail is about to ask why when he lifts his palms in the air.
‘I shot protocol today! You should call her.’
‘Who’s Annette?’ the policeman asks as Abigail grabs her mobile.
‘Annette Coulter. She’s one of the best clinical psychologist’s in Australia! Our manager wants us to recruit only her onto this case.’
Felix shrugs. ‘We didn’t know we’d catch onto a lead today. Call her. I don’t think she’ll decline an international case!’
Abigail lifts her phone in the air, trying to get signal. ‘She’s above international cases. She’s at the top of her career. If she doesn’t have the time, she’ll decline and we’ll get the sack!’
‘Well, if she declines then you can refer to another psychologist,’ the policeman suggests, but they both shake their heads.
‘She’s the only one who’s ideal for this case. She’s tackled cases no other psychologist could. We need her for the children!’ Abigail feels panic rising as she begins to dial. ‘Answering machine,’ she mimes to Felix and begins to leave a message. When she’s convinced that she has left a detailed enough message for Annette to realise it’s urgent, she returns to Felix.
‘What I was trying to say before was that they’re not getting away this time.’
Felix nods and takes a pillow from under his seat. ‘I’m off to sleep. You should get some rest too!’
Abigail gets up and collapses onto the backseat, plugs the headphones into the camera and switches it on. As she loads the footage, she notices her hands are unsteady. She watches as a man she hasn’t seen before towers over a little girl who looks as young as seven or eight and forces everyone away from the field. At first, it appears as if he’s protecting her. Then, he suddenly throws her across the field and she lands with a loud thud, headfirst. He repeatedly kicks her in the stomach and her sharp screams rise. Abigail hits the volume button as the man sits down next to the girl, speaking to her and almost sadistically hugging her by the end. Then, in one swift movement, he removes her trousers from her damp and, upon closer inspection, lacerated legs. As he lifts her up, she watches his hand slowly manoeuvre its way between her legs. The wind starts blowing and the leaves rise and swirl around the pair, getting stuck in the child’s hair. Between the brown and purple foliage and within the sinister hum of the wind, he pushes her legs open and forces his fingers inside her, casing his hand around her mouth a little too late.
Chapter Four
The harsh chill of Romania hits Abigail and Felix as they emerge from the steps of the helicopter. They follow the same policeman who was on board with them earlier into a metallic black SUV. Inside, a very young boy and girl sit huddled together, appearing idle. The woman seated next to them introduces herself as their translator.
‘I’m sorry we have to meet in such ill circumstances,’ Abigail begins. ‘We need a few details from you and then you’ll be free to leave.’
The translator repeats this back and they both nod.
‘My name is Abigail-Veil Doll and this is my co-worker, Felix Makavoy. We’re the leading social workers on the Green Orphanage case, which is why you were transferred to us instead of the Romanian police force. Can I have your names?’
The boy speaks to the translator. ‘They don’t want to be identified. As in – both of them together.’ Abigail wants to ask why but Felix quickly interjects, assuring them their identity will remain anonymous. Still, the boy clucks his tongue.
‘The last
thing we want is for this case to go public. What about your initials?’
‘RH and MB,’ the translator repeats.
‘What were you doing in the woods when the area’s restricted?’
They hesitate, looking unsure. Abigail ditches her suit jacket, hoping to appear more approachable in a polka dot blouse. ‘Tell them not to panic. I just need the truth.’
‘They were…’ the translator begins, but the boy hesitates. ‘They were having sex,’ she translates and the girl instantly blushes. Felix glances at Abigail and she too blushes as the image of them together comes to mind.
‘Go on,’ Felix says, noticing the pair looking sheepish.
‘They wanted to spend the day alone, without family crowding them. The woods were a good place. They knew it was restricted and that no one would find them.’
‘What time did you get there?’
‘They arrived around seven in the evening.’
‘How long did you stay there?’
‘They had to stay overnight because their car ran out of petrol. It was dark and there was no light for them to walk home so they slept near the closest thing they could find shelter under. The gate.’
‘What time did you start hearing noises from the opposite side of the gate?’
‘Seven in morning, I think, when sun begin to rise,’ the girl chirps in. Her English is better than expected. Abigail shifts her attention to her.
‘What did you hear?’ MB looks at RH before answering, a shadow passing her face as they share the memory. Her eyes furrow with anxiety as she faces them.
‘People were running and shouting very loudly. The gate started banging. I got scared. We both moved away because noise was too loud, screaming and thumping. Then, when sound went low, we moved closer. When we found hole in gate, all we saw were crowding people together on field.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘I took mobile out and pictured it all through hole.’ Abigail nods, knowing this was the video evidence they had been handed earlier.
‘Did anyone see you?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not, please.’
Abigail nods. ‘OK. I know we’ve taken your mobile for evidence. As soon as we’re done with it, I’ll send it back. Thank you very much,’ Abigail tells her, looking at them fixedly. ‘We couldn’t have done this without your help.’ She shakes hands with all three of them and steps out with Felix.
‘Wait!’ MB shouts, suddenly running towards them. ‘I heard the name Andrei. Little girl, Alex. She’ll be all right, won’t she?’
Abigail glances at Felix.
‘It’s just, she’s tiny,’ MB continues. ‘You don’t realise how good you have it until something like this happens.’ Suddenly, the thought crosses Abigail’s mind that MB knows English fluently, that she prefers the translator here now so she doesn’t have to recount the horror she has seen.
‘You did the right thing by talking to us. We’ll take it from here,’ Abigail says gently. Without warning, the girl begins sobbing with such intensity that she has to bend over to rest herself on her knees. Felix shoots a wary glance in her direction.
‘Neil,’ Abigail calls. The policeman walks over. ‘Could you arrange some therapy for both of them if they want it? Write the payment under my name.’ Abigail and Felix walk steadfastly towards the car. ‘All set?’ she asks.
The crew turn around in one quick movement. ‘The hell we are! Let’s go!’
As Abigail and Felix climb into the car and start the drive towards Green Orphanage, a sense of relief overcomes her. They are finally going to solve the case. Without realising it, her hand is wrapped tightly inside Felix’s, both of them gazing out of the window at the passing buildings, the images fleeting by, bold and powerful, as if they’re jointly approaching a near-death experience.
The drive towards Green Orphanage filters into another day. Feeling restless, Abigail moves away from Felix and shifts forward.
‘Am I squashing you?’ he asks, immediately trying to make space for her.
‘No. I need to move. My left side is numb!’ Her temples ache with a type of pain she’s never experienced before. It’s dull yet completely persistent. She palms her hand to her forehead and presses tightly at various pressure points. The air inside the car is stifling. She looks at her arms and hastily fingers away the sweat outlining her skin, listening in stunned silence at the faint sizzle of her touch.
‘Are you all right?’ Felix asks, pulling her away from her train of thought.
‘Just open the window,’ she says breathlessly.
He quickly rolls the window down. ‘Come over to my side.’
‘I’m all right.’
‘Your face is flushed.’
‘Pass me a drink of water.’
‘Gail, you’re shaking. Stick your head outside.’
‘Just get my water!’
‘Move!’ he orders. She rises but instantly has to duck, suddenly becoming aware of the stumpy car ceiling. ‘What is this? A residence for a flea?’ she says irately.
Felix grins. Abigail rises once again, this time more slowly, and he leans back to create room for her to move around him. She twists her body to face him, leans against his shoulders and throws one leg over his knees. Suddenly, there’s an excruciating sound of ripping cloth.
‘Oh, shit!’ she gasps. She watches as Felix’s eyes drop to her skirt. ‘What are you looking at? Up! Look up!’ She thumps him over the head, but his gaze naturally lingers. Her sunburnt thighs are parted on top of him, the silk skirt rising to expose her legs in natural tan tights. Feeling flustered, Abigail presses further into him, trying to make space to pull her left leg upwards and out. Instead, she ends up slamming her heels against the front seat.
The driver peers through the interior mirror and grins.
‘If you’re going to stare, you might as well help me pull my skirt down!’ she barks at Felix. She whacks him around the head to make him listen, fretful about what’s on display for the driver. Felix runs his palms around the back of her hip and smoothes the skirt down. His eyes are focused on hers as his thumbs work their way inside her skirt and with his fingers, he levels the skirt around her knees. She thinks of how gentle he is, but quickly pushes the thought away. She is a ball of sweat as she finally struggles back into her seat.
‘It’s a shame the window on your side doesn’t open,’ he says cheerfully.
‘Really!’ she bites back. She turns and starts to rummage in the boot of the car. ‘How long have we been driving?’
‘Nearly a day.’
She stares at him incredulously. ‘This is longer than the helicopter journey!’
‘This is Romania, babe, not Aussie.’
She pulls the separator down at the front. ‘Turn around.’
‘Why?’
‘I need to change.’ He continues to stare. ‘Felix!’
‘Can’t I just watch?’ he asks with a lopsided smile. Abigail unzips her skirt.
‘You missed your chance on Tuesday, remember?’ she says defensively, rage and impatience overcoming her. Chastened, Felix reluctantly turns. She quickly pulls off her skirt and tights, keeping her eyes fixed on him. In their place, she pulls on a pair of knee-high navy blue pants, zipping them up but keeping the belt unfastened. The air from the window has finally untied the knot in her stomach, allowing her to breathe easily. She leaves her shoes neatly towards the side. The soles of her feet feel like they are plastered with layers of rough, arid skin. Feeling that she’s suffered enough inconvenience for a lifetime, she tentatively lifts her feet onto Felix’s lap, and he eventually summons up the nerve to look at her.
The seriousness in his brown eyes unnerves her. ‘What?’ she asks uneasily, but he looks away without answering.
Abigail wrinkles her brow trying to understand what the look means. She scrolls back through her memories with Felix, and yet she can’t remember a time when he looked at her in this way. All she’d ever wanted from Felix was to talk to him about anythi
ng. To indulge in futile conversations about her intense cravings for lobster in the middle of the night or how One Squirrelly Summer was her favourite cartoon game. All she ever wanted was normality between them. But this was wishful thinking. It did cross her mind that maybe they were the kind of couple who, in their playfulness and humour, bypassed the need to feel something more real. This was how she felt things were like with Felix. Of course, he was her rock, her other half of playful amusement, but when she longed for an understanding companion, he became a stranger. He was inept at dealing with emotion. She had concluded this a long time ago.
A siren begins to sound like a deafening hawk and jolts Abigail awake. The noise is coming from a nearby police car, which races past them at double their speed, on a separate mission. Their own car abruptly swerves left, narrowly making the turning and coming to a sudden halt. Felix leans his head out of the window.
‘Are we here?’ he asks, an unexpected heaviness hitting him. The driver nods. Abigail leans forward and stares in surprise at the bland expanse of field, her eyes focusing on nothing of appropriate nicety. The grassland is a sickly blend of dreary green and light wafer brown, as if there’s been a mass episode of vomiting brussel sprouts. She thinks she’s seen the worst of it until she spots Green Orphanage, just about standing in the gloom of its surrounding. Suddenly, a flurry of memories floods her recollection, including the woman’s red hand, and she struggles to restrain the emotions that enter with them.
‘It looks so… barren this time around,’ Abigail says. She waits for Felix’s response but, in that moment, as the rest of the crew catch up in various police vans, the deafening holler of thunder shakes the earth, inviting the effortless pitter and patter of rain falling from the night sky. Pathetic fallacy, she thinks miserably and collapses back into her seat, feeling the night take an abrupt sinister turn of events.
Abigail and Felix congregate outside the orphanage, standing with sombre and formal faces; anyone would think they were about to attend a funeral. Abigail shifts her attention to the policewoman whispering instructions.