Breaking the Circle Read online

  Putting out a hand to steady her, Maya said more sympathetically, ‘After we get my mobile, I’ll take you home.’

  There was an immediate change in Kay’s expression. ‘Home?’ she queried, eagerly. ‘You will take me to your home?’

  ‘Not my home, yours,’ Maya replied.

  Immediately the light in Kay’s face died. ‘I do not have a home.’

  ‘You must live somewhere.’

  Kay answered with a dismissive snort, then slumped down on the wall. ‘Yes, I live somewhere,’ she said, bitterly. ‘Doorways, subway, park, a horrible apartment. Sometimes, if Gerard lets me, I stay at his place.’

  ‘But that’s horrible.’

  Kay shrugged while Maya stood silently, thinking how awful it would be to be homeless. She looked down at the dark roots showing through Kay’s stringy hair, noticed the multiple piercings in her ear.

  ‘Can’t you get a job, find somewhere proper to live?’

  Kay shot her a challenging glare, her eyes blazing fire. ‘Why, why do you think I live like this? I am illegal, I come to the UK to work, six months I work as a cleaner. I clean every day for many hours, then they tell me I do not work hard enough. I owe them money. They use me, so I run away. Now Gerard use me. I have no control – no papers for work.’ Her lips pouted and trembled and she gazed off into the distance. ‘Before I come here I was a good girl. Now I am a thief and a junkie.’

  For a moment Maya was silent, she didn’t know what to say. Then, moving closer, she placed her hand firmly under Kay’s arm. ‘I could try to help you.’

  A face full of suspicion looked back at her. Maya saw shadows of past disappointments and betrayals. Suddenly her offer of help seemed empty and worthless, a promise she couldn’t deliver on.

  ‘Perhaps I won’t be able to. I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘But at least let me try. My mum works for the government. She knows a lot of people.’

  Kay sniffed dismissively. ‘If the government know about me, they will arrest me.’

  ‘My mum got me into this country, she adopted me. I’m legal.’

  A sudden flash of hope brightened Kay’s face. ‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘You help me walk. I will show you the vet but how will you get the mobile?’

  ‘Not me – you! You stole it, you get it back.’

  ‘No! If Gerard finds out I help you he will beat me.’

  ‘Important you don’t get caught then. Come on.’

  * * *

  Along the high street, evening traffic was piling up and motorists stared curiously at the two girls stumbling along – one a tall schoolgirl with a mane of blue-black hair, hobbling slightly, her leg streaked with blood, and her companion, a thin, waif-like, blonde girl with a more pronounced limp.

  As they made their way towards the vet’s, Kay was whimpering in pain and Maya asked herself if she was being stupidly stubborn about retrieving her mobile. But she couldn’t give up. The phone was her only direct link to her mum, top security agent, Pamela Brown. A week earlier she’d watched Pam pack a suitcase with light summer clothing, sandals and long silk scarves. She’d guessed she was heading somewhere east, but Pam was cagey about her assignment.

  ‘The fewer details you know about my destination, the better, don’t you think?’ Pam had said. ‘Look what trouble it got us into during the summer.’

  ‘Oh yeah? And who would have saved you if I hadn’t?’ Maya shot back.

  Pam had dropped the clothes she was holding, wound her arms round her daughter and hugged her tightly.

  ‘Never think I don’t value what you did,’ she said, kissing the top of Maya’s head. ‘But I want a normal life for you – school, going out with friends, having fun, not worrying about me.’

  But how could Maya not worry when Pam was far away from home, most likely in some dangerous, inhospitable place? Her work as head of a government counter terrorism unit with links to MI5 and MI6 was crucial to the country’s security, her expertise always in demand. Maya hadn’t heard from her in six days except for one brief call to say she’d arrived – wherever she was. Since then, Maya’s mobile had been switched on day and night, because with different time zones Pam might call at any moment. Even at school, although she was breaking the rules, she carried her phone in her pocket.

  * * *

  The vet’s surgery was fronted by darkened shop windows that gave onto the street. Maya tried to peer in but couldn’t see a thing. She had more luck peeping through the notices on the clear glass door and saw a couple of people sitting with baskets at their feet, but there was no Gunner or Gerard.

  ‘Don’t let him see you,’ Kay urged, standing behind Maya.

  ‘He isn’t there.’

  ‘He must be.’

  ‘Could be in with the vet. They wouldn’t keep Gunner hanging about – not with those guinea pigs and rabbits.’

  Suddenly the door opened and a huge beefy guy carrying a white rabbit came out. Maya held the door open then stepped inside.

  ‘Can I help you?’ a woman behind the reception desk asked.

  ‘I . . . er. . .’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?’ the woman said, eyeing Maya’s bloody leg.

  ‘Oh, no, I’m fine, I . . . er . . . sorry, I just wondered. . . I’m looking for somebody.’

  ‘Young man and a dog with a cut paw?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s in surgery. It was an emergency. Could be a while yet,’ the woman said pointing to a door at the back of the waiting area.

  ‘Thank you,’ Maya said, backing away.

  Outside, she grabbed hold of Kay. ‘Come on, we’re going round the back.’

  Kay protested but Maya drew her down the alleyway between the surgery and a betting shop. ‘It’s hot, yeah?’ Maya said.

  Kay gave her a puzzled look.

  ‘So they’re bound to have windows open.’

  ‘You are crazy,’ Kay whispered.

  At the back of the surgery were a small car park and a brick extension. Maya put her finger to her lips and slowly and silently moved towards the biggest window, which was slightly open. Flattening herself against the wall, she edged forward and peered in.

  In the middle of the room was a high metal table and on it was Gunner. There was no mistaking the dog, but the fear factor had gone – he was laid out cold. Music played in the background as a young woman, presumably the vet, sewed up his cut paw; the sheet underneath was soaked with blood.

  Her hand on the window, Maya waited, then, putting her faith in a blast of louder music, she dared to lever the window open a little wider. A pair of skinny legs disappearing into black studded boots came into view to one side of the window – they had to be Gerard’s – and, next to them, just under the window, was her bag.

  Tilting her head, she managed to see Gerard’s face. He was gazing forwards, his attention focused on the operation. Never taking her eyes off his profile, she eased the window open a little more and slid her arm down over the sill. Groping with her fingers, she found the strap to her bag, gripped it and pulled. Suddenly Gerard shifted, he flicked back a long strand of hair and sat forward. She froze. The bag dangled in the air. At any moment she expected him to dart towards her, but then he spoke.

  ‘Gunner will be all right, won’t ‘e?’

  The vet, intent on her work, didn’t look up as she answered. If she had, she would have seen a girl’s arm hoisting a bag through an open window. The slight scuffing noise it made as Maya pulled it over the sill sent her into a mad panic and she grabbed it with both hands and dodged down beneath the window. Crouching on the gravel, she hardly dared breathe. Blood beat in her ears as she waited for a shout or a head to be thrust through the window above her. Nothing came, no sound, nobody appeared, so, cautiously, she wriggled sideways, shimmied upright and tiptoed away.

  Before rounding the corner, she flung a quick glance over her shoulder. Kay hadn’t moved, she was standing at the other side of the window, frozen and white as a ghost.

  In the alley
way, Maya stopped for a moment to dip her hand in her bag. Fumbling between the books and loose papers, her fingers grasped a small solid block. Yes – she had her phone! Now all she had to do was leg it up the road and disappear.

  The first obstacle was to get past the vet’s front door. Peering cautiously round the corner, she dodged back as the door opened. A thin woman carrying a cat basket emerged. She waited, then, just as she was about to take off, Kay grasped her shoulder in a vice-like grip.

  ‘We must go. We must go before Gerard finds out and comes after us.’

  ‘Us? I’m going home,’ Maya said.

  ‘No, you cannot leave me. I have a bad foot.’ Kay’s eyes were wild with fear. ‘I cannot run. Gerard, he will. . .’ She stopped suddenly and her face became sulky, her voice accusing. ‘You promise to help me.’

  Maya sighed. ‘All right, come on, I’ll take you to a friend’s café.’

  ‘I cannot walk. I try but the pain is bad.’

  Aware that at any moment Gerard could come rushing out of the surgery, Maya bit back her irritation, hitched her bag onto her shoulder and bent down. ‘Jump up. I’ll give you a piggyback.’

  Kay clung on like a limpet as Maya stumbled along the high street. Victor’s café was only a short distance, but to Maya it seemed further than all the races she’d run that day. Her schoolbag was heavy, Kay’s bony fingers were like claws digging painfully into her shoulders and her foot was hurting. And, for all she knew, Gerard could be right behind them – it wasn’t possible to turn round to check. When she finally lurched in through the open door of the café, she was filled with relief.

  After depositing Kay in the nearest chair she slumped down herself.

  ‘Oh, my God, I’m whacked. I thought any moment he’d come running out and catch up with us,’ Maya said. ‘That was exhausting.’

  ‘I am not heavy,’ Kay said.

  ‘I was carrying you and my bag!’

  Kay lifted her damaged leg onto a vacant chair, settled back and unzipped her leather jacket. ‘Why do you care so much about your mobile?’ she asked, fixing Maya with her gold stare.

  The question took Maya by surprise. She bit her lip, gazing into the distance a moment before answering. ‘My mum’s away, I don’t know where she is. She calls me on my mobile. Without it . . . I won’t know . . . I won’t know if she’s safe.’

  ‘Safe?’

  ‘My mum’s work is special. She can’t always tell me where she’s going. If I don’t answer my phone then she might not have another chance to call me. And if I don’t answer she might think something’s happened to me.’ Her voice went quieter until it was barely a whisper. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  Kay’s amber eyes were bold and challenging. ‘No. I do not understand. I have no mother, no family.’

  Maya swallowed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  A dark shadow fell over Kay’s face and Maya saw her withdraw into herself. Silence stretched between them. Maya felt responsible, wishing she hadn’t mentioned her mum, but then she thought with a twinge of irritation, shouldn’t it be Kay who was feeling bad? She’d stolen her bag and mobile and caused that mad dog to chase her, scaring the pants off her. She ought to keep away from guys like Gerard.

  ‘Is Gerard your boyfriend?’

  Kay sniffed. ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘Why do you owe him money?’

  ‘He gives me stuff to deliver.’

  ‘What sort of stuff?’

  Kay slid her hand up to her hair, tugging at the thin blonde strands. She looked down, blinking. ‘He is a dealer.’

  ‘What, you mean drugs?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You sell drugs?’

  Kay shrugged. ‘Mostly I just carry stuff for him. But this time he ask me to get money for him – five thousand pounds he want for this package and I lose it. I must pay him back.’

  Maya’s eyes opened wide. ‘Five thousand pounds!’ She shook her head. ‘You’re not going to make five thousand pounds stealing a few mobiles.’

  ‘I know. He wants me to do something worse than steal. He says I must go with men but I say no, never.’

  Maya looked at Kay with horror. What on earth was she mixed up in?

  Victor, the owner of the café, came over to take their order – tea for Maya and strong black coffee for Kay. While he went to fetch their drinks, Maya was trying to imagine what Kay’s life was really like.

  ‘Earlier – you said some words in another language,’ she said.

  ‘So?’ came Kay’s sharp response.

  ‘Where are you from?’ Maya asked.

  Kay’s face went blank, all emotion scrubbed away from it. Then she said firmly, ‘I do not talk about it. None of your business.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I just thought, well . . . I was adopted, so. . .’

  ‘So you were lucky.’

  A sharp, stony silence divided them, while Maya struggled with questions she dared not ask.

  Finally she said, ‘When my mum comes back I’ll talk to her, she might be able to arrange something.’ Her voice tailed off – they both knew it was a slim hope. ‘Have you got a mobile?’

  Kay shook her head. ‘Gerard take it.’

  ‘Here, I’ll give you my number.’ Maya picked up her bag and searched for pen and paper. All her books were still there, purse, papers, pencil case, then her fingers clutched a soft package that wasn’t familiar. She drew it out.

  Kay’s eyes opened wide. ‘Oh, my God! Give it to me, give it to me!’

  Maya handed over the package and Kay bent and examined it. Inside the polythene was a square foil packet.

  ‘Look, see the number written on back.’ She kept staring at the parcel like she’d found treasure. ‘I lose this, so why did Gerard have it and put it in the bag?’ She frowned. ‘Maybe he trick me. He have package all the time. He want me to think I lose it.’

  Maya watched as Kay wrestled with the problem, but then her face cleared, she shrugged and looked happier.

  ‘No. Gerard did not do that. I think he find the package. He want to tell me but you are there, then his dog was hurt – he forget.’ She grinned. ‘Everything is OK now.’ She levered herself up. ‘You have the mobile, I have the package. I will go.’

  ‘All right. But, look, take my number.’ Maya wrote down her mobile number and the house phone. ‘Call me,’ she said handing Kay the paper.

  Kay put the paper in her pocket. Then, with boot in hand, she limped towards the door.

  ‘You can’t walk home like that,’ Maya said.

  ‘Don’t worry, I will get a taxi. See you.’

  As she disappeared from view, Maya stared after her. If Kay had money for a taxi, why on earth had she accepted a piggyback ride to the café? She sipped her tea gazing at the door and wondered if she’d ever see Kay again.

  A warm waft of spice-scented air greeted Maya as she entered the kitchen. There was some compensation when Pam was away – Maya’s grandmother Helen came to stay and cooked fabulous food.

  ‘What’s on the menu tonight, Gran?’ Maya asked, putting down her schoolbag.

  ‘Chicken tagine,’ Helen answered, setting a large casserole dish on the table. ‘I thought you’d be here hours ago.’

  ‘Sorry. Athletics practice, then the coach wanted to talk to me. I didn’t realise how late it was.’

  Helen turned, glanced quizzically at Maya, then looked more closely. ‘What’s happened to you?’ Her eyes swept over Maya’s dishevelled state. ‘You’ve got blood on your leg and your skirt’s torn. You look as if you’ve been in a fight.’

  ‘I know. I’m an idiot.’ Maya made a face and went over to the sink to wash her hands. ‘I fell on the pavement – wasn’t looking where I was going.’

  Helen’s sharp eyes followed Maya as she dried her hands then moved to sit down at the table.

  ‘You’re limping. Are you sure you’re not hurt?’

  ‘Scraped my foot, that’s all. It’s fine. I’ll have a shower after I’ve eaten.’

&n
bsp; ‘As long as you’re OK. No broken bones?’

  ‘No. It’s just a scratch, a bit painful, that’s all.’ Maya helped herself to some rice. ‘I did great tonight – shaved three seconds off my best time.’

  ‘Well done!’ Helen said. ‘That’s amazing. You must have a good chance of winning the inter-schools.’ She spooned a heap of chicken onto Maya’s plate. ‘I’m glad you’re home now, though. I was beginning to worry. You should have called me.’

  Maya apologised. It had been a split-second decision not to tell Helen about what had really happened on the way home, but she was pleased she hadn’t. It was only a few weeks since Helen had had to cope with terrorist threats made to her daughter and granddaughter and the terrifying events that had followed – Maya figured her gran deserved a break.

  But though she didn’t talk about being mugged or the whole episode afterwards, she couldn’t stop thinking about Kay. Time and time again she saw Kay’s tiny, haunted face. She listened to Helen explaining about her new yoga class and an interesting radio play, but as she tucked into Helen’s delicious cooking, she couldn’t forget how excited Kay had been when she thought she was going home with her.

  You’re crazy, she told herself, she’s just a thieving, smelly street kid. Rank hair, pale face, thin as a rake – and she said she’s a junkie. But, she couldn’t help thinking, if Pam hadn’t adopted me, I could have been Kay – homeless and desperate.

  ‘I wonder if Mum will call tonight,’ she said to Helen, as they cleared dishes from the table.

  ‘I wish I knew where she was,’ Helen said.

  ‘Me too,’ Maya answered.

  Homework took up most of her time after dinner. Pam didn’t call and later, when she was lying in bed, it took a long time for Maya to fall asleep.

  Meeting Kay had stirred up memories. In her dreams, fragments of images fluttered around her head like circling moths – the heavy bolt on a cellar door, numbers etched on a stone wall, icy water slopping from a bucket, a covered head bobbing in prayer.

  Feelings long buried took shape and tugged at her as she fell in and out of sleep – the cold clutch of hunger, the sweet melody of a song, the fearful boom of falling shells. And, most vivid of all – the sharp stab of terror when they came – ringing footsteps descending, coming closer and closer to the cellar door, men with rough hands, pushing and shouting, the dark heavy metal of guns and her father, tall as a tree, forced to the ground.