11. November

Melissa

Melissa has no option but to take Paul’s car; her own is too badly damaged.

Borrowed car for school run, she writes on a Post-it note. Then shopping. Suggest you take a taxi to work.

She leaves the note stuck to the kettle. He’ll be angry when he wakes, furious, but it doesn’t matter, she won’t be here to suffer that. She slides slowly and awkwardly into the front seat; at least she can move her arm well enough to drive the car. Lina has a head start of about twenty minutes. She could be anywhere by now. How stupid to imagine that Lina trusted her. Why would she? She’d trusted Paul once, she’d hardly trust his wife who had never lifted a finger to help her, who had seemingly turned the other way. She should never have mentioned the police; Lina might think she is in even greater danger now.

The Mercedes glides quietly through the gates, then Melissa drives slowly through the empty roads searching the sidewalks and doorways. Eight A.M. The streets are becoming busy, children walking to school, people hurrying to North Dulwich station. Lina might already be on a train, disappearing into the city, leaving no trace. Melissa decides to circle around the streets twice then come back. She can sit in the car opposite the station entrance, watching in case Lina comes. This could all be a waste of time; Lina could just as easily be making her way to Herne Hill or Brixton station. She could be waiting for a bus or simply walking into London. She’ll be unsafe. When Paul realizes she’s missing he might make a call; the men who brought her here could track her down. There must be dark networks to catch girls like Lina, and then, a plunging thought, girls like Sorrel too. She grips the wheel tightly. She may tell the police after all, because of girls like Sorrel.

She drives straight past Lina the first time. The young girl has pressed herself into the corner of the bus shelter. She lifts her head briefly at the sound of the car, the hijab gives her away. Melissa pauses, reverses, and parks, braking quietly. Lina is looking down again as Melissa walks toward her, as if still hoping to escape notice. She stands up at the last minute, tensed for escape, but it’s too late. Melissa puts her arms around her and holds her as closely and carefully as she would Sorrel.

“Thank God. Oh, thank God.” Melissa starts weeping, weeping as she hasn’t for years; for Lina, and for Ash, for Sorrel, for herself. Gradually the tension in Lina’s body disappears as if Melissa’s tears are melting her resolve. After a minute Melissa feels her back being gently patted; Lina is comforting her.

“Sorry.” Melissa brushes away her tears and takes Lina’s hand. “I’m sorry. Will you let me help you?” Her heart beats fast as she waits. Lina could refuse and walk away, there would be nothing she could do then. Lina looks at her and inclines her head minutely, making her choice. Melissa takes her hand and they hurry across the road to the car. She gives Lina her passport and it’s Lina’s turn to weep. She holds her passport close against her chest, murmuring as she might to a child, tears dripping off her chin.