by Jacqui Rose
Freddie decided it was pointless trying to go on with the conversation. He’d find out soon enough what was going on, once he was out. He looked round cautiously, making sure no screws or lags were close enough to hear.
‘The date’s been put back but we’ve got no choice other than to roll with it.’
Tasha felt a slight sense of relief, although she wasn’t fool enough to show it. The idea that Freddie would be out of prison unnerved Tasha for lots of reasons; not least because Arnie hadn’t stopped calling her. She’d expected a few calls, but then she’d expected him to take the hint when she hadn’t returned them.
At first she’d been sorry to see him go, sorry he’d needed to keep calling her. And it’d hurt her. She hadn’t been in love with Arnie but she’d been close to it, caring about him deeply. But the minute Johno had told her they were going to spring Freddie out she’d known they’d had to stop seeing each other. It was the only way if she wanted him to be safe from Freddie finding out and hurting him. There was simply no two ways about it.
She’d hoped by now Arnold’s calls would diminish. But they’d increased. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Even twenty calls a day. And her sorry had quickly turned to unease, not helped by her sister, Linda.
‘Bleeding hell Tash, if you want my opinion you’ve got a right nut job on your hands. What did I tell you? Any bloke who ain’t looking to get his leg over is a bloke who’s looking for trouble.’
Tasha had snapped at her sister then. ‘And which great philosopher did you get that quote from, hey?’
‘All right girl, no need to machine gun the messenger. I ain’t trying to wind you up babe. I’m just worried for you.’ And she wasn’t the only one. Tasha Thompson was worried for herself.
Unlike Linda though, who always liked to walk on the melodramatic side of life, she didn’t imagine for a moment Arnie was some looney tune. She knew him better than that. What she was concerned about was something far more real, far more worrying. She had a strong suspicion Arnie’s male pride – or whatever it was which was driving him to bombard her with phone calls day and night – would make him do something silly. Something silly, like tell Freddie what’d been going on. And as Tasha sat across from her husband, watching him crack his knuckles, Tasha knew something silly would turn into something very nasty indeed.
Wanting to block the thoughts of her problems out, Tasha concentrated on talking about their son. ‘Ray-Ray doesn’t want you doing it. Well, not for him anyway.’
‘You told him?’
‘He was going to find out sooner or later wasn’t he? Best me tell him rather than some copper.’
‘He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He can’t see he needs me to do this. I need to do this. I want to be with him, Tash. I want to be with you.’
‘Nothing I can say is going to stop you is it?’
Freddie stared at Tasha. ‘You could try talking to me like you want to be here. I’m putting my neck on the line for you and Ray-Ray. I ain’t seen you for a while and now I feel like I’m just some surplus cunt. Have you got somewhere else you’d rather be Tash? Or should I say, someone else you’d rather be with.’
Tasha blushed. It didn’t go unnoticed by Freddie but he didn’t react, just listened. Waiting for her to say something to hang herself.
‘Don’t start, Freddie. If you must know, yes, I would rather be somewhere else, with someone else. With Raymond. Now go on, tell me you’ve got a problem with that an’ all.’
‘Why are you still angry with me Tash?’
‘If you have to ask, then you’ll never understand.’
‘Maybe I don’t Tash, but don’t worry. I will. I’ll make sure I sort out any concerns I have once I’m out … Uncomfortable?’ he said, looking at her sharply.
He stared at Tasha who was shifting in her seat, making out it was the hard orange plastic prison chair which was making her move awkwardly. But they both knew different. He was giving her a warning.
‘So why’s Ray-Ray holding back on me doing this for him?’
‘I expect he’s sick of trouble. Just wants to concentrate on getting better.’
Freddie smiled to himself, shaking his head. ‘He’s a good boy but he’s got a too soft ticker. I’d be jumping at the chance if my old man had bothered half as much with me as I do with Ray-Ray. Not to mention springing out for him.’
Tasha snapped. ‘Don’t lay that on Ray-Ray. It’s your choice to do this, no one’s put you up to it. Like it was your choice to beat the flipping brain out of that bloke.’
Freddie spat his words out. ‘He was a fucking nonce. What would you have rather me done? Let him walk out of here after only serving half a sentence, only for him to do it again to some poor kid? Whatever you think of me Tash, give me some frigging credit. Yeah, I fucked up. But mainly I fucked myself up, but at least I put a stop to some perv hurting anyone again.’
Tasha couldn’t argue with Freddie there. She sighed as the prison officer called time. ‘I better go.’
‘Johno’s going to give you a call to sort out some money for you. So make sure you answer.’
Tasha gave Freddie a tight smile. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’
‘Leave me to worry about that, okay? I’ll see you on the other side.’ He winked at her, then squeezed her bottom. He felt her tensing up and he wondered if Eddie was right. Perhaps he was being a fool to trust her.
The rain began in earnest and hadn’t stopped by the time Tasha had reached Bradford. She jumped in a cab from the station to her hotel. She was exhausted, and looking forward to soaking in the bath. There was too much to think of to even bother trying tonight. All she wanted to do was have a large glass of red wine and worry about everything tomorrow.
‘Sorry love, I can’t go any further. Roadworks.’
Tasha groaned, realising she’d have to walk the extra two hundred metres in the pouring rain. Getting out of the cab, she pulled her jacket collar up to stop the rain dripping down her back. It was dark and the shoes she was wearing weren’t suitable to be walking in the wet, but she’d rather wear a pair of Louboutin’s and stumble and slip in the wet than wear a pair of flats. That was one thing Tasha was quite clear on.
Tottering along carefully, she thought she heard a sound behind her. There it was again. And again. Just as she was telling herself to stop imagining things, she felt a hand on her back and she screamed, turning round in the dark to face a familiar person. ‘Jesus Christ Johno. Want me to piss me pants?’
Johno laughed. ‘Not really. Sorry babe, didn’t mean to frighten you. I saw you getting out of the cab, I shouted but you didn’t hear. Come on, let’s get out of this rain.’
Watching them, Arnie sat in his car. He smiled sadly, speaking quietly to himself as he stretched out his arm, touching the windscreen, his fingers following them across the glass as they walked into the hotel. ‘Hello Izzy, have you missed me? It doesn’t look like you have. But I’ve missed you, and soon I’m going to show you just how much.’
18
Ray-Ray looked at the nurse’s face with anticipation. It’d taken forever for her to go and see if Laila was fine, and on the couple of occasions she had before, she’d come back not having found anything out; although Ray-Ray did have his suspicions she hadn’t been at all.
‘Well, what did you find out?’
‘Oh apparently she’s well.’
‘Did you see her?’
The nurse answered, slightly distracted as she looked at Ray-Ray’s hospital chart. ‘No.’
‘Then how do you know she’s all right?’
‘I spoke to one of the neighbours; she told me Laila had gone on holiday with her family. That’s nice isn’t it? I couldn’t tell you the last time I went on holiday and I can’t imagine my boyfriend asking me …’
Interrupting, Ray-Ray snapped at the nurse, not wanting to hear about her love life at the moment. ‘On holiday – are you sure?’
‘Yeah, totally. Why did you think she wasn’t ok? Hasn’t she been in c
ontact?’
Ray-Ray ignored the nurse and closed his eyes. Why was he feeling so angry? He should be happy she was on holiday with her family. But he wasn’t. For some reason he felt betrayed. It was stupid, but for some reason he’d imagined her worrying about him when he wasn’t in school – wanting to know where he was, even trying to find him – but all along she was having the holiday of a lifetime with her family.
Clenching his fist to stop the anger swelling, Ray-Ray kept his eyes shut as he listened to the pretty blonde nurse and her colleague talk beside him, thinking he’d fallen asleep.
‘How’s he doing?’
‘Oh fine.’
‘Poor guy.’
‘You’re telling me. He had his whole life in front of him and now look. Pretty rotten really and from what I can gather his girlfriend hasn’t even been in touch with him. I’m not being horrible, but can you blame her? It’d be bit of a shock for anyone wouldn’t it to have this happen to your boyfriend?’
‘And it’s not like it’ll be easy for him to find love again, not looking like that anyway, and I reckon if he did it’d probably be because someone felt sorry for him.’
Ray-Ray kept his eyes shut as the nurses walked away. He could hardly breathe. The pain he was experiencing now was worse than any acid burn could ever bring.
‘Pack your stuff. I said pack your stuff.’ Laila watched Baz from the door as he walked into the bedroom. She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. Fearing she’d done something wrong, Laila huddled up against the bedpost.
Seeing his wife not budging after he’d ordered her to, Baz notched his voice up an octave. ‘Move it, Laila. Unless of course you want me to leave you here?’
‘I don’t understand, where are we going?’
Baz sneered. ‘Oh wonderful, not only have I been blessed with a frigid wife, I’ve been blessed with a stupid one.’
The sting of Baz’s words hit Laila as hard as his hand had done the night before. She put her head down, hoping if she showed a sign of respect, Baz’s temper wouldn’t escalate. She felt him sit down on the bed next to her. ‘We’re going back to England.’
Laila’s head shot up. She studied his face to see if he was mocking her but it gave nothing away. She was afraid to say anything, just in case the tiny glimmer of hope she was feeling inside was ripped away; to find out this was her husband’s idea of a joke, making her already dark world seem even darker. ‘You’re not going to say anything Laila? I thought you’d be jumping all over me to say thank you.’
‘Is it true? We’re really going back to Bradford. When? Why? Not that I don’t want to. I do, but …’ Baz pulled her down on the bed and she froze like always. Tensing her body as his hands wandered all over her, like she’d done on the first night, on every night since.
Baz rolled on top of her. She felt his hands work their way to the inside of her thighs. She closed her eyes trying to shut out what was about to happen, imagining herself to be somewhere else, somewhere far away.
‘It makes you smile. The thought of Bradford. It’s the only time I’ve seen you smile; you should do it more often. It suits you. But don’t get any ideas Laila. Don’t think you’ll be going back to how it was before you were married. You’re mine now. My wife. Take it as a warning.’
‘I hate him.’ Tariq spat out a pomegranate seed as he spoke to his uncle.
‘It was a good match Tariq. A good family, not to mention your sister is finally married and now I no longer have the weight of a mountain disguised as an unmarried niece resting on my shoulders. Surely that alone, is a reason to rejoice?’ The relief in Mahmood’s voice was palpable as he sat under the bay tree brushing off flies. Their bags were packed and now all they had to do was wait for the man from the next village to come and take them to the train which would take them to the plane and home to Bradford.
Tariq looked at his uncle, who’d been more relaxed in the last two months than he’d ever seen him before. He had a sneaking suspicion it was to do with passing the responsibility of Laila on to somebody else. This was the first time he’d had a chance to speak to his uncle alone since they’d arrived in July.
‘Why him? Why someone who was born in England, uncle? Not to mention someone in the police force?’
‘Why not?’
‘It just seems such a strange union.’
‘No stranger than the moon and the stars.’
Tariq shook his head. His uncle always did that. Talked in riddles when he didn’t quite have the answer or didn’t wish to give a straightforward response. ‘I don’t trust him and I don’t think you should.’
‘Tariq, he’s your brother now and you need to trust him like one.’
Taking another bite of the pomegranate, Tariq watched a tiny ant scuttling about under the dripping juice. ‘I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now. On the night of the wedding, Baz mentioned Ray-Ray. Threatened me with it.’
Mahmood turned to Tariq. ‘A threat? Tariq I think you must be mistaken, Baz would never threaten you.’
‘No, uncle, I’m not mistaken, I know exactly what I heard. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t stay away from Laila, we’d be in trouble for what we did. He’ll make us take the blame for Ray-Ray.’
‘We, Tariq?’
Tariq thought for a moment and a frown appeared on his face. ‘Yes, we.’
‘No, Tariq, you. I think if memory serves me right, only you were there that night. I was at home, having dinner with Baz.’
Mahmood looked at the shock and hurt on Tariq’s face as he stood up, shaking the sand off his trousers. Mahmood waved to the man who’d come to collect them to come nearer with his cart. He turned round to Tariq who hadn’t moved. ‘Don’t look so worried Tariq. All you have to do is listen to his advice and keep a secret, and then there won’t be any problem from him … or from me.’
The journey was as uncomfortable going back as it had been arriving, but however hot and tiring it was, Laila welcomed every moment of it. Within three hours of Baz telling her, they’d packed everything up and waved goodbye. And with every plant they passed, every pothole in the road they went over, Laila celebrated, because each jolt, each crossroad they came to meant a step nearer to Bradford. The home she’d never thought she’d see again.
She hadn’t known anyone could change in just a couple of months the way she had. She remembered coming here and even though she’d been terrified, she’d given a wry smile when she’d seen the sign for McDonald’s in Islamabad. But she didn’t smile now. She couldn’t. Until she landed in Bradford, she couldn’t trust anything. For all she knew, they could be taking her somewhere else. The news of Bradford had come so quickly, so unexpectedly, she still couldn’t quite believe she was finally going home.
As much as Baz had warned her things wouldn’t be any different, at least she would be in England. And that’s where she needed to be. Somewhere familiar. Because now she had more than just herself to think about. She now had to think about her baby.
Baz watched Laila, touching her stomach as if she was the first woman ever to become pregnant. Though admittedly she had done well, or rather he’d done well, getting her pregnant so soon. He was sure it must’ve happened on their wedding night, but whenever it had, he was proud of himself.
For the past week and a half his mother had insisted on making Laila do pregnancy tests. ‘What is the point in being married to a woman who can’t conceive? I take it you want her to be pregnant before she returns to England? Otherwise you might as well look for another wife, and then you’ll just have to return alone.’
And that had been the plan; for Laila to conceive before she returned to Bradford. Everyone had known it. Himself, his mother, Mahmood, even Tariq had known. Everyone apart from Laila.
He knew it wasn’t unusual for new wives to be married in Pakistan and kept in the country until they were pregnant. It was a way of making sure the marriage was worth continuing. Sometimes a way of making sure a visa application would be stro
nger for the husband if there was a British-born baby involved. Not that he had to worry about that. He was a British citizen, born and raised in Bradford. Laila getting pregnant was never about a visa. It was about something much deeper, much more important. It was about honour. His honour.
Even though he’d known that the week after the marriage Laila was at her most fertile and all her body clock’s timings were right, he’d still been shocked when his mother had told him the test was positive. Laila was so tense and becoming so skinny. She didn’t eat properly and spent most of her time crying. It surprised him she could carry herself, let alone a child.
He was pleased it’d happened so quickly. His leave was up and he was due back at work. He’d been lucky he’d been allowed to take extra unpaid leave but he hadn’t fancied the idea of coming back on his own. If Laila hadn’t been pregnant, his mother would’ve insisted on Laila staying in Pakistan with her, and if that had happened, who would’ve cooked and cleaned for him then?
Laila had been shocked as well when she’d found out but did what he expected her to do; cry. The pregnancy had happened so quickly, the thought of the baby not being his had crossed his mind. He knew how Laila had acted like a cheap whore with the boy in Bradford and for a moment he’d been worried. But that idea had quickly passed; she was so frigid there was no doubt in his mind she had been a virgin when they’d got married. He supposed the pregnancy was just as his mother had said; perfect timing. He had been ‘blessed’.
Tariq stood waiting for passport control. Islamabad airport was as hot as Bradford airport had been. No air conditioning, only stifling, oppressive heat. He hadn’t spoken to Laila properly since he’d turned her away at his bedroom door the day after her wedding, which seemed an age ago. She’d tried to plead with him with her big eyes as was her habit since they were children, but he’d purposely avoided her gaze.
He hadn’t wanted Baz seeing him making any contact with her. And why? To save his own skin, and for that Tariq felt deeply ashamed. Laila needed him, but he’d been warned off by Baz and by their uncle, and instead of fighting it, he’d taken the warning and turned away. He’d wanted to go back home to Bradford before, but his uncle had insisted on him staying.