The Invisible Crowd

by Ellen Wiles

  How he wished he could see his family. Maybe could give himself up for deportation and fly home to Eritrea to be with them for a brief, sweet day or two until he got found out by the authorities. But they probably wouldn’t let him past the airport. He’d already be on a blacklist. They would put him straight into another prison and get back to torturing. It would be more upsetting for Melat and the family to know he had come back, only to be taken away before he got to see them.

  But then, what would Melat think if she found out he’d died over here? That he’d just thrown away his chance to get legal leave to remain? And how would they all manage if he wasn’t alive, sending them money, even if he had to work illegally to do it?

  Pocketing his rooster, he walked up and down the sand, along the wet rim of it by the water’s edge, feeling it squidge under his soles, reassuringly soft and simultaneously firm under his weight. Maybe the police wouldn’t be searching for him right now after all. It wasn’t as if Gebre’s escape from detention had been successful, in the sense of him disappearing, so maybe they wouldn’t bother investigating it any more. Also, what would Gebre say if he heard Yonas had given up everything because of him? Good luck, he’d said, before that bus drove away. This was meant to work out for you.

  Was it? Could he make it work? He pulled out the rooster again, flipped it over, stared at its tiny black eye.

  He took out his phone – Nina’s old phone – and tried to turn it on, but the battery was dead. He brushed the excess sand off his feet, put his shoes back on and walked fast up the track past the castle and into the village behind.

  The light was on in what looked like a café. He looked in the door: yes, definitely a café, with just one elderly couple inside, drinking tea, and a newspaper rack on the wall. He probably had enough change left for a cup of tea – and a cup of tea suddenly seemed like the most appealing thing in the world. He walked in, ordered one, and asked if he could plug in his phone to charge. The lady pointed him to a table near a socket.

  He plugged in his phone, then took a couple of newspapers from the rack and sat down. He read:

  ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT WHO KILLED PENSIONER, 91, IN CAR CRASH FINALLY CAUGHT AFTER FOUR YEARS… HIDING IN CUPBOARD

  He looked at the lady behind the counter, and wondered if she’d mind him ripping this article out, looked back again, and noticed the date on the paper: 2 March. His birthday! It was actually his birthday today. Well, happy birthday, he thought to himself bitterly. Nobody else would say it to him now. Melat might be thinking of it. Perhaps she was hoping to hear from him today, maybe telling Lemlem it was her uncle’s birthday, maybe looking at old photographs of the family with Sheshy and Grandmother… and he’d let her down. She didn’t deserve such a failure for a brother. And he couldn’t bear to tell her about Gebre. But the more he thought about his sister, the more he wanted to hear her voice again. And he still could. He and she were both still alive, after all, in the same spinning world, even if he’d never get to see her in the flesh again. And he wasn’t completely alone in the UK, either. He had some friends now – at least until he disappeared. Tesfay. Emil. Molly. Nina. Were any of them thinking of him?

  He turned on his phone, and a stream of texts came through.

  Molly:

  Dear Yonas, we are all very worried about you and hope you will come back soon. Love from Molly

  Tesfay:

  Where did you go? You better not be sleeping rough, bro. Get in touch, okay?

  Emil:

  You got a letter, a packet, could be important… Where are you, Prof?

  Veata:

  Devastated about Gebre. But I have news. Please contact me as soon as you get this. Do reverse charges if need be.

  Nina:

  Yonas, where are you? I miss you so much. Please, please call. Xxx

  He imagined Nina saying those words aloud. I miss you so much. No, I missed you; past tense, it would have to be, if he were to hear her say it. He really wished he could hear her say it.

  Oh, he was such an idiot to have run off and left her like that without any explanation, the one person he cared about the most – not to mention his one chance at a relationship, however improbable. What a stupid, stupid decision. She would probably be furious with him, and disgusted with herself for having invested so much time and emotion in him for him just to chuck it all away.

  But perhaps – perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps she was still missing him.

  And perhaps it wasn’t even too late for his appeal to be re-listed. If it wasn’t, he owed it to Veata to try; she’d worked so hard on his case already. And he owed it to Gebre, to fight for his rights, to make their journey worthwhile. And to Melat, to Lemlem, to Sheshy and Grandmother – even to his parents, to Tekle and his grandfather and Sarama. Everyone who’d loved him, who would want him to keep going, not to give up.

  And this was his birthday. Another new year of his life. It could be another new start.

  He picked up his phone again, and dialled. Nina, Nina, Nina. As the ringtone sounded, he realized he was almost trembling in anticipation of her answering. But then he got her recorded voice anyway. You’ve reached Nina. Please leave me a message. Her tone was so bright, so promising, but he couldn’t find the right words. He hung up. Who next?

  He tried Molly, and she answered after just one ring. ‘Oh, Joe – I mean, Yonas!’ He’d expected her to be politely cross, to give him a schoolteacherly scolding, even, but she just sounded delighted.

  ‘I am very sorry—’ he began.

  ‘No no no, I’m just so relieved to hear from you! We were so worried when you missed your appeal. I can’t imagine what you must have been feeling, after your friend Gebre, oh it’s just appalling. You must be heartbroken. But come here, now; where are you calling from? In fact, can you just give me your number to write down so I can call you back? Oh, Nina will be so happy to know you’re okay! And Veata too – she’s been trying to get hold of you – she has some news.’

  ‘About Gebre?’ he asked. She was going to say they’d linked him to the escape attempt after all, he knew it.

  ‘No, no – it’s about the factory!’

  ‘The factory? You mean, where I worked?’ He wasn’t sure he’d ever told Molly about that.

  ‘Yes! The police raided it!’ she continued excitedly. ‘There’s new evidence. About smugglers, or traffickers. Veata thinks you can use it for something called a fresh claim?’ His brain started fizzing. Had the police got Aziz? Had they found Osman? ‘But where are you now?’ Molly asked.

  ‘I am not sure,’ he confessed. ‘Somewhere north of Newcastle, actually right next to a castle, a very tall, red one, right by the sea…’ As he said it, it sounded ridiculously implausible and vague, like a fairy tale. A fairy tale you’ve just made up…

  ‘Oh, it must be Bamburgh!’ Molly said. ‘I know it well. How marvellous. Nina will be thrilled – I’m sure she’ll want to drive up and get you. She’ll be back soon and I know she was just planning to take Clara swimming, but I can do that. She can drive up for you this afternoon. You just sit tight there, okay?’

  He walked back to the dunes. The landscape looked exactly the same, the weather, the sky – but now everything had shifted. There he’d been, imagining himself like one of the tiny, lone figures in Gebre’s war paintings, when all along, people – friends – had been right behind him. And now Nina was coming for him. As he waited, his excitement mounting, he wrote down some random thoughts in his notebook, whatever words came into his mind.

  He was walking back, past the castle, when he saw her. Nina. She was waiting outside, looking at her mobile phone, with that crease down her forehead, just like that day at the Serpentine. Flooded with relief and longing, he remembered the very first night they’d met, when she wished he’d disappear – and now she’d driven all this way up the country, just to bring him back. Her red hair was going wild in the sea wind, like flames being stoked. She looked up as he approached, and he started to apologize but she put her
fingers to her lips, and reached out. Her arms around him. He thought he should pull away, but he wasn’t going to make that mistake again, and as she clung closer, he clung back.

  They stopped off at Tesfay’s flat in Newcastle on the way down to London. Yonas knocked, expecting the familiar bound to the door – but after a long pause there sounded a slow tread, and Tesfay answered, looking bleary-eyed, carrying a bundle of laundry. Then Yonas noticed that the bundle appeared to have a face. ‘Heyyyy, little Lula,’ Tesfay crooned down at it, ‘meet your Uncle Yonas!’ The baby started to shriek between fast, desperate gasps, which made them all laugh.

  ‘Congratulations! She arrived – I’m so happy for you!’ Yonas said. ‘This is my friend, Nina.’

  ‘Oh, she’s so gorgeous!’ Nina said. ‘Look at those tiny fingers!’

  ‘Come in, come in, both of you!’ Tesfay said expansively. ‘Jamila is sleeping and Freweini is at school, but they will be happy to see you. We were worried after you left – we could not contact you. Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, please do not worry,’ Yonas said. ‘But we cannot stay now – Nina is driving us back to London. I just wanted to say thank you so, so much. Really, you saved me.’

  ‘Any time for an Eri brother in need,’ Tesfay said, and then gave a side glance at Nina while she was doing up her coat and slipped Yonas a wink. When Yonas explained he was going to appeal his refusal after all, and that there was some fresh evidence now, Tesfay slapped him on the back and laughed out loud, prompting the baby to squeak. ‘Good for you! I knew it. Now go, believe, and do not thank me again, okay? Just come visit us again some time.’

  Back in the car, Yonas and Nina didn’t talk that much, but it felt good to be sitting next to her again, as if they were a standard couple who were just driving back home from a normal day out by the beach. Nina had brought a stack of CDs, and he flipped through them. Nina Simone… that Bereket Mengistab CD… and a Bob Dylan album that included ‘Like a Rolling Stone’. Nina was happy to listen to that too, especially when he told her the story of where he’d last heard it, and they both sang along with the windows down.

  They stopped at a motorway services, and Nina bought sandwiches. They sat on the bench out front, facing the crowd of cars, the hordes of people coming in and going out, one mother leading a grandmother by the arm, another rushing a child quickly to the toilets, a son asking his dad if he could have a burger, a girl complaining that she wanted to go to the pub later, that all her friends were going, that it wasn’t fair, that her dad was ruining her life… and Nina grinned. ‘I can just hear Clara saying that to me in ten years’ time – less, probably,’ she said.

  Yonas tucked into his sandwich. ‘Mmm, what is this again – smoked salmon? It is salty and sweet and slimy at the same time. I like it.’ Nina put her arm around him and laid her head on his shoulder. She didn’t open her sandwich, so after he’d finished his, he opened hers, and fed it to her gently, waiting for her to chew each bite and swallow, as if he were feeding Clara but without the aeroplane effects.

  When they finally arrived back at Molly’s house, the teapot was already on the table, and Clara was jumping up and down, shouting his name. It felt a bit like coming home.

  After tea, Yonas called Emil, expecting a terse or indifferent reply. But he let out a kind of happy caterwaul sound. ‘Professor Jojo! You are back! I thought you had run off to join circus, doing book juggling act on back of donkey reciting Shakespeare. Wait, that is my idea. You cannot steal it. You are not allowed to join circus without bringing me to play violin, okay?’

  The next day he went to see Veata, who wasn’t so welcoming. For the first time, she bristled like the lawyer he’d feared before he met her, and rebuked him soundly for disappearing. ‘You’re very lucky this evidence has come up to give you another chance. But if you run off like that again, it could all be over. I know how you were feeling after what happened to Gebre, but it does nobody any good if you just give up and cut people off. Next time you have any silly ideas like that, call your lawyer first. Okay?’

  Yonas agreed, chastened.

  ‘But you know how sorry I am for your loss. Gebre was a lovely man. I was honoured to meet and represent him. I am going to make sure that we make a claim against the detention centre for breach of Article 2 – that’s the right to life – I’ll discuss it with you in due course.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Yonas said. ‘It would be good to get justice for him.’

  ‘It would. Now, the factory raid—’ she began.

  ‘Did they get Aziz?’

  ‘I am afraid Aziz Hussain evaded capture. Petros Solomon was found, but he claims to know nothing about the larger operation and to have been trafficked too.’

  Yonas felt a stone sink inside him. ‘How did Aziz get away?’

  ‘We don’t know that much yet. He must have anticipated it, somehow. The police only found two other workers there: Rashid and—’

  ‘Osman?’ Yonas asked hopefully.

  ‘No – Samuel, I think.’

  Yonas closed his eyes. What had they done to Osman then?

  ‘But Osman is in London!’

  ‘In London?!’ Yonas nearly laughed. ‘How. . .’

  ‘I’ve just taken on his case. He’s in hospital but doing well. Says he hitched a ride with a bin man and got on a train, just like you and Gebre, but reported himself to the authorities when he arrived here.’

  ‘He is okay, then, physically?’

  ‘He’s still finding it hard to walk, but they’ve just operated to reset some bones and he’s on the mend now. They’re busy lining up a foster family for him as he’s not quite eighteen – I’m hoping the local authority won’t follow through on the threat to challenge his age. I’ve got the details if you want to visit. He was so disappointed to hear that you’d disappeared – he’ll be thrilled to see you.’

  Yonas got straight on a bus after the meeting, texting Nina the news on the way. He found Osman lying in a room in St Thomas’s, right by the river, with a view across to the Houses of Parliament that was so direct it seemed as if this room were Osman’s own luxury apartment and Westminster was an oversized playhouse. Yonas realized he must have walked right past this hospital that day with his unopened refusal letter, never imagining this could be the place he would see Osman again. Lying as if in state in the narrow hospital bed, yet still scrawny and malnourished enough to be swamped by it, the kid looked almost more fragile than Yonas remembered, but older too. He smiled lopsidedly at the sight of Yonas and waved an arm in greeting. His eyes looked different. Brighter. And not red any more. ‘You came back! I knew you would. I can already walk around now!’ he bragged. ‘I have a phy-si-o-the-ra-pist.’

  ‘Amazing. We will get you running the one hundred metres in the next Olympics,’ Yonas said, and patted his head, wondering if he’d been told about Gebre yet. Probably not, or he’d have said something. He didn’t have to know straight away. ‘It is so great to see you! Nice place you have here. Give me a hi-five… yes! Hey, do you want to do some reading practice? You must have been slacking since I left. I brought a newspaper for you. How about you start from the top? And when you get out of here we will get you up to speed for going to a British school and passing all your exams with top marks. Okay?’

  ‘Give me a break!’ Osman laughed, but he leaned forward eagerly and grasped the paper.

  When visiting hours were over Yonas went to find Nina in a café where she’d been meeting with a gallerist. She flipped her laptop shut and got up, before he could sit down. ‘How was he?’ she asked.

  ‘Great,’ Yonas said. ‘I was so happy to see him. You will have to meet him soon. How was your meeting?’

  ‘It was okay, I think. We’ll see if she follows up or not, but she sounded keen. And how about now, do you have any plans, or can I take you somewhere?’

  ‘I was going to go to the squat, to see Emil and thank him for passing on the letter,’ he said, but registered her disappointment. ‘I can go later though. I
will probably take all my things back there tonight, if they still have my bed…’

  ‘Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay at Mum’s…’

  ‘You and your mother are very kind, but I am happy living there. At least until we all get evicted again. I will not disappear again, okay? I promise.’

  ‘You’d better not. Okay, let’s go then.’

  ‘Where are we going?

  ‘You’ll see.’

  They took the Northern Line up to Hampstead, then Nina led him down through some grand, leafy streets, before climbing up a steep street that opened onto a large green space. ‘The Heath,’ Nina said. ‘You haven’t been here before, have you?’

  He hadn’t. The sky was splotchy like a filthy car window, but the sun was cracking through ahead, and blue shapes were emerging in the grey. They climbed further uphill, and headed for a summit which was busy with silhouettes of children playing, kites drifting and darting, adults shielding their eyes and looking out.

  From the top, London was a huge basin full of geometric shapes, criss-cross patterns and pinhead windows, and millions of people swarming around doing their thing, so tiny that all their successes and failures seemed no more significant than a colony of ants lugging grains of soil to an anthill. ‘I used to come here with my dad,’ Nina said, and took him over to a silver plaque engraved with little outlines of buildings. She pointed out the tiny image of St Paul’s, then led his eye with her finger to where it stood in the distance, dwarfed by skyscrapers. Osman was probably looking out at this at the same time from the other side of the river, Yonas thought. Nina told him it was built after the Great Fire of London, and survived through the Blitz. She pointed out the London Eye, which she said was built for the new millennium, but nobody had expected it would end up as a permanent icon. Yonas remembered his prickling fear at the sound of the fireworks from that wheel on the TV, and tried to think back to where he was when the new millennium arrived. Probably trying to sleep on his cell floor as cockroaches crawled over his face. It seemed so impossible, here, now, that this was the same life, that he had come all this way and had remained the same person – or a person in the same body. He found he’d tuned out of what Nina was saying and his gaze was fixated on a needle-like tower that looked like it could give you a lethal injection. ‘Sorry, what was that?’