There is a letter, says Father. It is the one we have waited for, but not the one we wanted. He shakes his head. The government says we must leave England, return to our country.
But why, Father? I cry. We have made no troubles and I can’t go: I’m in the play.
Play?
Yes, the Christmas play, at school.
Ah. He smiles sadly. I don’t think the government will change its mind because of a play, Asra. We have ten days to appeal.
We will be killed in our country, sobs Mother. Do they know that, Gul? Do they know?
Hush, Nusrat, murmurs Father, you will frighten the child. Of course they know, I wrote it on the form.
Then how can they—?
Sssh! He is rocking Mother like a baby. I don’t know, Nus. I have no answers to your questions: they are my questions too. Who knows how the mind of a government works? He laughs, short like a bark. Perhaps it has no mind, just programs like a computer.
Will they come with guns, Father, to drive us away?
He shakes his head. I think not, Asra, unless we refuse to move.
Will we refuse? Can we? I will refuse because of the play.
He smiles, a tired smile. No, my dear one, you will not, because it would change nothing. We will continue to behave as we have always behaved, so that whatever happens, nobody will say of us, It is their own fault, they brought it on themselves.
At the mess everybody is looking to the Sabers, because the blow they all fear has fallen on us. They are not glad it isn’t them. They are thinking, You now, us later. The fear has thickened.
When I have gone to bed, two people come to talk to my parents. They are from an organization that helps asylum seekers with their appeals. They talk softly, I don’t hear anything they say, I hope it is something nice, because I don’t want to be a goat again, and I don’t want us to die.
- Fifty-Two
Ruby Tanya
WHEN ASRA TOLD me first thing Tuesday I couldn’t believe it. I was like, Why? How come guys like Shazad Butt get to stay and you have to go? It’s crazy.
She didn’t say much, she was too upset. In fact she snuggled her face in my neck and was having a good cry when the buzzer went.
First lesson, Asra couldn’t stop sniffling. When she told Ms Rule why, she let her go to the first-aid room where she’d at least have a bit of privacy. She’s all right, old Rule. Golden, us kids call her. Golden Rule, geddit?
I was working with Millie. She goes, What’s up with your friend? I told her and she said, If it was me I wouldn’t go.
Is that right? I said. What would you do?
Run off, she says. Hide.
Yeah, right. I didn’t say anything else, I didn’t feel like it, but she’d started me thinking.
Asra showed up for second lesson, holding herself together. At break I steered her into the doorway of the sports store, took her by the shoulders and gazed into her eyes. Listen: what’d happen if it was the last day, time for your mum and dad to set off to the airport and they couldn’t find you?
She sniffled, shook her head. I don’t know, Ruby Tanya. What would happen?
They’d miss their flight, and there might not be another till next day, and that might be full. And even if it wasn’t, they couldn’t get on if you were still missing.
But I won’t be missing, Ruby Tanya, I will be with them. Let’s talk about something else.
It’s not just talk, Asra, it’s a plan. I’ve thought about it, and I think it’d work.
No. She shook her head. You want to be kind but is not so good, this plan. Suppose my parents missed their flight; suppose they missed two flight, or ten. It would change nothing. The government would find me in the end, and then they’d send us away, a few days late, but the bad men are patient, they would be waiting. She smiled, a watery smile. You want to help, I know, but you are not the government.
Asra – I squeezed her thin shoulders – don’t give up, please. Remember Sunday, the ruins? Nobody knows you go there. You could hide and I’d bring stuff from home, blankets and things. You’d be all right, you said the place didn’t scare you. I’d bring you food, stuff to drink. You could borrow my Walkman, even my phone. Say you’ll think about it at least.
The ruins, she murmured, smiling with her eyes. You have been such a friend, Ruby Tanya, how can I say no to you? Yes, I will think about it, but you must think too. Think about your father, who hates our people. You would be stealing his things to help me, to keep my parents here. What would he do if he caught you? And you would be hiding a runaway, someone hunted by the government with dogs, helicopters; even satellites. They would be sure to find me sooner or later, and you could be sent to prison. She looked me in the eye. I will think, Ruby Tanya, and so must you. Then we will talk again.
I wasn’t a star pupil that day. Couldn’t concentrate for picturing Asra a week or two from now, in Mr Younis’s class. Would he let her go to the first-aid room?
- Fifty-Three
Asra
IT IS DIFFERENCE already, this room which has been our home. It looks difference because Mother has packed things already: there are spaces on shelves and in corners. And it feels difference because soon we will leave with our cases and never return.
I stand looking at the changes and Mother says, Come, I have something to tell you. She is sitting on the bed because we have no soft chairs. I go to her, she puts her arm round me. Father and I need you to be very brave, she says.
Fear flickers inside me. I look at her. Why brave, Mother?
She squeezes gently. We are looking for a way to keep you safe from the bad men, Asra.
I frown. Which bad men, Mother? A picture is in my head: the rude man at Mayfields.
The bad men in our country, dear one.
In our country? I don’t understand, how can you …?
By not taking you there.
You mean, we might not have to go?
She smiles sadly. You, Asra. You might not have to go. Those people – the two who were here last night – they will try to get permission for you to stay with a family here in—
No! I pull away, horrified. Not without you, I cry. You and Father. I will stay with you, in our country or anywhere. I don’t want another family, I’d rather … I’d rather be a goat.
Asra, says Father, who has entered silently, this is the one opportunity your mother and I will have to ensure your safety. It will be a hundred times easier for us to face what must be faced, if we know our enemies cannot reach you. Don’t you want to make it as easy as possible for your mother?
I … of course I do, Father, but …
Then be brave, my precious one. He comes to me, scoops me up, rocks me. Oh, Asra, we don’t want to leave you, surely you know that? It might not happen anyway, but if it does, your safety will be the one glimmer of happiness in our unhappy situation.
I make myself stop crying. Father dabs away my tears with his handkerchief, tells me I’m his big brave daughter and holds my hand all the way to the mess. I don’t feel like anybody’s big brave daughter. I eat like a sparrow, and when I go to bed my head is aching. Don’t you want to make it as easy as possible for your mother? Flipping trick question, as Ruby Tanya would say.
- Fifty-Four
Ruby Tanya
I DID A lot of moping over Asra that week, mostly at home. At school I hadn’t time to mope, what with end of term exams, Joseph, and preparations for the reopening of the shared area next Tuesday. Talk about everything coming at once. The mayor of Danmouth would grace the reopening with his presence. Tipton Lacey doesn’t have its own mayor, just a moron. The Moron of Tipton Lacey, otherwise known as my dad. Anyway, we’d be doing a bit of choral speaking for the mayor, and I bet he couldn’t wait. It was a poem about a guy who lays down his life for his friends, which Ramsden chose because that’s what Mr Conway did. Usually us kids’d have sent anything of that sort up so ruthlessly as to make it impossible to teach, but this time nobody did. We wouldn’t have dreamed of it, which i
s weird in a way.
I’m not saying I never thought of Asra at school; of course I did. For one thing I felt desperately sorry for her, sitting exams she’d never get the results of, rehearsing Christmas stuff when she’d be a thousand miles away by Christmas, in a country where they don’t have it. If she was still alive, that is. You bet I thought about her.
Dad was in a mood all week as well, like a bear with a sore bum, and it didn’t help when he scanned the Star at Friday breakfast. That was another thing that’d preyed on my mind: had Gran passed Feltwell’s letter on to Arthur Hadwin and if so, what use would he make of it? I’d pictured a big black headline with Dad’s name, and when I heard the paper drop I concentrated very hard on my mini-wheats. But it wasn’t like that. Nothing on the front page. Rather than make a news story out of it, Hadwin had written a piece himself, an editorial, on the centre spread. I’d told myself Gran hadn’t passed on the letter, that there was nothing in the paper at all, and was relaxing with a slice of toast and marmalade when Dad found Hadwin’s piece.
He roared. Flung the paper in the air, where it came apart, fluttering down to lie in overlapping sheets on the quarry tiles.
Mum, who was topping up her cup, topped up the sugar bowl instead. What on earth’s the matter, Ed? she cried.
It’s not me, bellowed Dad, it’s him. Hadwin. He’s always been against me, what I’m trying to do here, and now he’s done a hatchet job on me, destroyed my character. It’s libel, I’ll take him to the cleaner’s, sue him for every penny he’s got. I’ll close his rotten little paper once and for all.
Mum carried the sugar bowl to the sink, tipped out the syrupy contents and asked, Has Hadwin used your name, Ed?
No, he ruddy well hasn’t, but he might as well have. Well-known local property dealer. Prominent in the campaign to have asylum seekers accommodated elsewhere. Who else could he be referring to, Sarah? And how in the blazes did he get hold of the information?
It’s not libel if he hasn’t named you, Ed, said Mum reasonably. You won’t be able to sue. She bent down, gathered the paper page by page. What is it anyway? What’s the information he’s got? Does it really matter?
Of course it matters, you daft cow. It’s confidential business. It doesn’t break any laws and it’s our affair, mine and Feltwell’s; nobody else’s.
What an opera. For once I was glad when it was time to go to school. I didn’t get to read Hadwin’s editorial till I got back that afternoon. Mum’d read it and was grimly quiet. You won’t like it, Ruby Tanya, she told me as I opened the centre spread, but she didn’t try to stop me.
It was a good piece of writing. Clever, in that it alerted the villagers to the tacky stuff that seemed to be going on behind the scenes, without openly accusing anybody of anything. I had to agree with Dad on one point though: nobody in Tipton Lacey could fail to recognize him as one of Hadwin’s villains.
Which left me hoping fervently that Gran was right when she said the editor would protect his source.
- Fifty-Five
Ruby Tanya
IT WAS A tense weekend at our house. Dad’s foul mood continued, and he fratched with Mum at every opportunity. It took him all his time to speak to me, so that I began to think he’d found out about the letter. It was Asra’s last weekend, and I was determined to spend as much time with her as possible. I decided to be open about it instead of pretending I was meeting Millie or something. Dad didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was glad the Sabers were being sent home, so I didn’t see why I should lie to keep him happy. It was scary, announcing first thing Saturday that I was off to the camp, but all he said when I told him was, suit yourself.
It was tense in the Saber household too, of course. Asra’s folks were OK with me but in a detached sort of way, as though I was already part of their past. I said the only thing there was to say, that I was very sorry they had to leave, that I was going to miss Asra very much, that I’d never forget them.
We walked on the airfield, just the two of us. The Sabers would fly out next Saturday, 4 December. I’d been working on Asra at school, trying to get her to give my plan a go, but I hadn’t been able to budge her. It’s a bad plan, she’d insisted, brought a long way. You mean far-fetched, I’d smiled, and she’d said, Thank you, Ruby Tanya, but there is no rush for me to learn good English now.
So I was unprepared when, as soon as nobody could overhear, she said, We will do it.
Do what?
Your plan: the far-fetched one.
You mean you’ll— I stopped dead, gaping.
She nodded. Close your mouth, please. Yes, I will hide in the ruins. My parents tried to put me with a family here, but there was no permission. They want me to stay, so I will stay. This way, maybe they will stay too.
Brilliant! I yelled.
Ssssh! Asra glanced back. It won’t be so brilliant if somebody hears us.
We headed for the ruins. There was no fog today, so they came in sight when we were only halfway there. I looked back to make sure nobody could see where we were going and it was all right: the hut roofs were on the horizon. It was important now that Asra’s secret hideaway should stay secret.
My heart was pounding. The first flush of excitement was over, and I was beginning to realize what I’d taken on. Asra wouldn’t stay in the ruins tonight of course: she’d do a runner on the night of 3 December, but before then we’d need to get the place ready. That meant bedding, food and water, a torch, candles and matches and all sorts of other stuff, to be smuggled in without anybody seeing. Without my parents noticing stuff was missing. Planning all this was going to be an awesome task, never mind actually doing it.
And we’d six days, starting now.
- Fifty-Six
Ruby Tanya
WE SAT, ME on the windowsill, Asra on her chair, and made a start. First up, getting the stuff. Everything is higgledy-piggledy in our room, said Asra. She’d once heard somebody say higgledy-piggledy at school and liked the sound of it. After making sure it wasn’t a bad word, she’d adopted it. Some of our things are packed, she said, and some are not. I think I can take a few bits without my parents noticing, but nothing big like blankets, because I have to go through the Butts’ room.
Yeah, I said, bedding’s going to be a problem all right. I’m not sure how I’ll get it out of our place without anybody seeing me, or noticing it’s gone.
Maybe I can manage without bedding, Ruby Tanya.
What? I looked at her. It’s going to be December, you div. You can’t sleep uncovered, you’d die in the night. Anyway, I’ve just had an idea.
What?
Well, what if we didn’t have to smuggle the bedding past our folks?
I don’t understand. Do you mean buy it, at a shop?
Good lord, no. What d’you think I am, a millionaire? No, I was thinking about Gran. My grandma.
Steal from your grandmother?
No, Asra, not steal. I bet if I told Gran what we’re doing and why, she’d lend us some stuff, and not just blankets. She might get us everything we need.
Oh, Ruby Tanya, d’you think so? It would be very brill.
I grinned. Very, very brill, that’d be. I’ll go see her tonight. Now, the next problem’s getting stuff past the guys who man your gates.
Asra smiled, shook her head. We won’t have to.
Why not?
Mushroom Gap.
What you on about, Asra? What’s Mushroom Gap when it’s at home?
She chuckled. When it’s at home, it is a place where peoples have made the fence flat so they can pick mushrooms on the airfield. When it is not at home, I don’t know what it is. You must go to the end of Glebe Lane and turn right into Long Lane.
I nodded. I know it, it goes behind the school.
Yes, and when it comes to the airfield, that is where the fence is flat.
Now that’s what I call dead convenient. What’s next?
We plotted and schemed till nearly lunch time. I wanted us to skip lunch, stay here in the ruins
, but Asra wouldn’t. Father will worry, she said. Maybe he will search for me, and if he finds me here …
I nodded. I see what you mean. I’m still thinking it’s our last weekend but it isn’t, is it? Not any more. Shall I come tomorrow, let you know how I got on with Gran?
Yes, my parents will expect you. We must do what is expected, so they won’t suspect. Come on.
We sauntered back across the airfield. I tried to picture it in a year or two’s time if Sefton Feltwell had his way, crammed with tawdry, overpriced houses on streets with silly names.
And Asra’s folk? Forgotten like the mushrooms.
- Fifty-Seven
Ruby Tanya
HI, GRAN.
Hi, yourself. Did you see the piece in the Star?
Yes.
What did your father think?
He’s out for blood. I hope it won’t be mine.
Don’t worry, sweetheart, I told you: Hadwin’s never dobbed anyone in and never will. Is that why you’re here?
Well no, Gran, not exactly. I … I was hoping you might help with another problem I’ve got.
At your age, Ruby, you should have no problems. What is it?
We sipped green tea and I told her about the Sabers. She listened without interrupting, and when I’d finished she shook her head.
Sheeesh! That’s heavy stuff to lay on anybody, child, let alone a poor old crone like me. Still, a trouble shared is a trouble halved, as the saying goes. She chuckled. It’s a lie, but that’s how it goes. At the risk of being a drag, I have to say I doubt whether the powers that be’ll postpone the parents’ deportation because their kid’s missing. They’d have to have a heart to care about a detail like that, and they haven’t.
I looked at her. We’ve got to try though, Gran – Asra and me. We can’t just let her go. I’m hoping maybe if Asra stays free for a while, they might give her a whatsit – amnesty.
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