‘She was bleeding, what did you expect me to do?’
Baz raised his voice and slammed Tariq against the wall, watched by Mahmood. ‘I expected you to do nothing. I warned you, Tariq.’
‘Yeah you did. And I’m ashamed to say I listened to you. If you want to report me for what happened to Ray-Ray, fine, but it won’t bring her back. She needed help and I wasn’t going to leave her like that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because she’s my sister.’
‘No, Tariq – she’s
my
wife
first and your sister second. How am I going to explain to people she’s run off? Don’t you understand the shame that brings? Your sister was lucky anyone wanted to marry her. I did her a favour and she repays me like this.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with other people.’
Baz shouted; tiny drops of saliva splattering out of his mouth. ‘It’s got everything to do with them! What sort of man will they think I am? A man who can’t keep his wife. I’ll lose all the respect I’ve worked for. Do you know how much shit I’ve had to put up with to get where I am? Paki Gupta. PC Paki. Detective Curry Gupta. Do you know how much they’ll laugh at me down the station now? Laugh at me back home? Oh there goes Baz Gupta; thought he was so much better than all of us but he can’t even keep a wife. You’ve humiliated me.’
‘I did what was best.’
Baz pushed his face, centimetres from Tariq’s. ‘If we don’t find her, I’m holding
you
responsible.’
‘She’s gone Baz. You won’t find her. Laila doesn’t want to be here and I don’t blame her.’ Tariq stopped as his voice cracked. Pulling himself together, he hardened his tone. ‘Uncle forced her to get married.
We
forced her.’
Mahmood went to say something but Baz put his hand up to stop him.
‘It was her duty, her culture. She has brought dishonour to me.’
‘No Baz, what we put her through had
nothing
to do with duty, culture or honour. I think we both know that. Why don’t you leave her alone now? Let her go.’
‘Never. But you’d like it if I did, wouldn’t you Tariq?’
Tariq stared at Baz. He pushed him away. ‘Yeah, I would. Because she deserves so much better than you.’
Baz grabbed hold of Tariq, trying to put him in a head lock, but they were both matched in height and strength so he struggled to get a firm grip. Tariq quickly moved to the side, knocking over the ornaments, then lost his balance slightly, giving Baz the slight advantage for a moment. Tariq grappled with Baz, yanking his top to try to pull him down. He managed to twist Baz round who fell awkwardly, sprawling across the glass table.
‘Enough! Stop! Stop!’ Mahmood shouted loudly, making Tariq turn to his uncle. Baz saw his opportunity and slammed Tariq with his fist. Mahmood walked across to Tariq, bending down to where he was sitting, holding his face.
‘You have brought shame and dishonour to my family Tariq. Both of my brother’s children are unworthy to carry the name of Khan. We need to find her and bring her back.’
‘You won’t be able to find her.’
Baz stood up by Mahmood’s side. ‘Oh but we will. And Tariq,
when
I find your sister, which I will, I’ll kill her.’
Laila huddled up under the tree in the graveyard. The rain was pouring down. She was shivering, sending spasms through her body as she sat drenched through to her skin. The raindrops dripped down her neck and she’d long since stopped trying to wipe her face dry from the rain and tears.
Darkness had come early and the dark grey storm clouds were still visible in the black sky. The shapes of the gravestones seemed eerie, making Laila’s imagination run away with her.
She moved slightly, trying to find comfort on the wet ground. What had she thought she was going to do? Where did she think she could go? The questions ran through her mind, shooting at her like poison arrows.
Tightening her arms round her knees she put her head down, tired of her tears, tired of her pain. She was scared and she didn’t know what to do to make the fear go away. She didn’t know how to bring back the feeling of safety and care she’d once had in the arms of her father.
She had nothing. There was no one to turn to. Tariq had helped but there was nothing more he could do. She shuddered. Even the thought of her brother made her afraid; she was scared for him. Terrified he’d be hurt for helping her and she would be responsible for that, just like she’d been responsible for Ray-Ray. She took a sharp breath as she thought about him and wondered, not for the first time, if he hated her now.
She couldn’t even go back home, the repercussions would be unimaginable. They’d make her stay with Baz or worse still, send her to her mother-in-law’s back in Pakistan. And she just couldn’t. She just couldn’t go back.
She’d always thought this happened to other people. She’d known girls in the community who’d been sent to Pakistan and hadn’t come back. Girls who’d been forced into unhappy marriages. But it was never spoken about, never discussed. And now she’d become one of those girls. She’d had such hope, such dreams. She’d been ready to take on the world. Her father had told her she could have it all, but most importantly, he’d told her she could have her life. Now though her life wasn’t hers and she knew it would never be. And if she didn’t have that, what did she have?
Going into her pocket, Laila pulled out the bottle of painkillers the hospital had given her. She thought about her father, her mother, her brother and Ray-Ray. She thought about how it once was and how it should’ve been.
Undoing the top of the container, Laila poured the tablets into her mouth before curling up under the tree, hoping it’d soon be over.
‘No sign of her.’ Baz snarled as he got back into the car. Tariq was driving and they’d been searching the streets of Bradford for a few hours. Baz and Mahmood had taken it in turns to get out and speak to all the people they could think of. Uncles, Aunties, friends, religious leaders had all been spoken to, with nobody having seen or heard from Laila.
Baz smashed his fist on the dashboard. He turned angrily to Tariq as he drove past the fire station.
‘This is because of you, Tariq. The whole community will now think I can’t keep a wife. How will people be able to respect me? Do you know how that feels?’
‘The shame is on my hands as well. How will I be able to walk down the street with the weight of dishonour on my shoulders?’ Mahmood added dramatically from the back seat.
Tariq carried on driving, praying they didn’t see Laila.
‘Pull up here.’ Baz shouted and pointed at a small terraced house.
‘Here?’
‘Yes, I want to go and speak to Laila’s little friend.’
‘It’s nearly three a.m. You can’t, it’s too late.’
‘Just watch me.’
Tariq, Mahmood and Baz stood in Yvonne’s kitchen with Baz questioning a sleepy-looking Yvonne.
‘If I find you aren’t telling me the truth …’
‘I am. I haven’t seen her since you told me not to.’
‘I’m warning you.’
Yvonne smirked. ‘Listen, I can’t help it if you can’t keep your wife, pal.’
Baz dived across the table to grab Yvonne but she jumped out of the way, used to being on high alert from years of living with her stepfather.
Tariq pulled at Baz, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible. ‘We better go. She hasn’t seen her. It’s no good.’
Baz looked at Yvonne with disgust. He turned to go but as he did he picked up the kitchen table, flipping it over and sending the piled up mess on to the floor, before storming out.
‘Yvonne?’ Tariq spoke with quiet urgency as he watched Baz and Mahmood march out along the path. ‘If you hear from …’
Yvonne snapped angrily. ‘I told your mate, I haven’t seen her, okay?’
‘Please, I’m not trying to cause trouble. I’m her brother. If you hear from her, call me. Just let me know she’s all right. I don’t even want to know where she is. I just need to know she’s safe. Here.’ Tariq scribbled down his number on a piece of paper and stuck it in Yvonne’s hand, rushing off out to the car as Baz started calling him.
‘If anyone wants me I’m going to the hospital, but then I’m going to do some shopping so I’ll get some lunch whilst I’m out.’ Tasha Thompson spoke to the receptionist, making sure she made them part of her alibi if of course she needed one later on. ‘Oh, and by the way, I don’t want you taking any messages from Arnold either.’
‘Certainly, Mrs Thompson. Now, is there anything else I can help you with today?’ Tasha shook her head; the reply from the hotel receptionist was almost robotic. Whether she’d actually do what she’d asked her was another matter; she seemed more interested in taking a sneaky peek at the magazine next to her. Without answering, Tasha walked towards the hotel car park. The receptionist was the least of her worries. Today was the day Freddie was coming out.
Johno had given her firm instructions on what she had to do. He’d told her to make sure she kept to the same routine for today, tomorrow and the next few weeks. The police would be sniffing around and she would be one of the first people they came to. It was essential the hospital staff saw her at the same time as they did every morning, as well as the hotel staff, and especially the car park valets.
After seeing Ray-Ray, she would come back to the hotel as she normally did, make sure her presence was known, then head out again on foot to pick up the car they’d organised for her to drive. It was parked in a street on the other side of Bradford. From there she’d go and meet Freddie on the outskirts of Ilkley. Sixteen miles outside the city centre, in the heart of the country.
Tasha didn’t actually know the exact whereabouts of where she was going to drive Freddie after she’d picked him up; Johno had told her it was best she knew as little information as possible. The only thing she did know was that he was planning on a helicopter taking him out of the country later tonight.
Thinking about the plans made her feel queasy. If they were caught, it wouldn’t just be Freddie serving time; it’d be her as well. She really didn’t want to think about it any more, otherwise she might find herself wanting to do a disappearing act. It was still early and she didn’t need to go and pick up Freddie until later. Already Tasha Thompson knew it was going to be a very long day indeed.
Freddie was pacing. If he was honest, he was shitting himself. Almost literally. Thankfully they hadn’t been on lock up and he’d been able to use the lags’ toilets off the recreational room. He was losing it. For him to be nervous was unheard of. But then, he supposed he had a lot riding on it. In fact, he had everything fucking riding on it. He
had
to make this work. He was worried about Eddie’s contact; never before had he put his trust in a person he didn’t know. He hadn’t even let a stranger look after his bleeding rottweilers, let alone himself. Fuck. He had to stop this worrying. It wasn’t helping him at all.
He turned and saw Eddie on the other side of the room and he nodded an acknowledgement. A few feet away was Martin Warner, looking as if he was standing in a police line-up after committing the Great Train Robbery. He was a bleeding chump. The look on his face made him look more than shifty. Even from across the room with less than perfect eyesight, Freddie could see him standing in his cheap blue suit, tiny droplets of sweat on his forehead. Now what the fuck was Warner doing? Oh God, he was waving and calling him over. For fuck’s sake, he’d told him not to do anything out of character, and calling him over was just that. Freddie couldn’t just ignore him because no doubt the man would only bring more attention to him if he did.
Talking through his teeth so no one could lip read what he was saying, Freddie angrily spoke to Martin Warner. ‘What’s the matter with you? Do you want to get us nicked before we even get out of here? I told you not to speak to me.’
‘It was just, I …’ Warner stopped to dab his damp forehead.
‘Pull your fucking self together, Marty. You look like you’ve thrown a bucket of water all over yourself.’
Warner was clearly in a panic. What Freddie really wanted to do was ram his fist down his whiny little throat. The man was a pussy. It wouldn’t surprise him if he burst into tears. Warner spoke to Freddie, far too loudly for his liking.
‘I’ve been thinking. I’m not sure if I can do this. What happens if we get caught? What will happen to my family then? Listen Thompson, let’s call this off and then say nothing about it.’
Freddie was holding it in, but he felt he wanted to burst. This man was already messing things up. Still speaking through gritted teeth, Freddie narrowed his eyes.
‘I swear to God Marty, if you don’t want me to order my men to fuck you and your whole family up, then you need to get a fucking grip. The only way you’re going to back out on this is in a body bag. All you have to do is stay there and say nothing. Once it starts, you know exactly what you have to do.’
The sweat now started to pour off Warner’s forehead. ‘Just repeat the plans for me; I’m not sure I can remember everything.’
Jesus, it was like he was dealing with a child, and people were starting to notice that he, Freddie Thompson, was talking to a screw. ‘No, Marty. I ain’t standing here any more. If you value your family in any way, I’m sure even
you
will remember. Okay?’
‘Motherfucker!’ a lag shouted at the top of his voice on the other side of the room, followed closely by a loud bang. It was starting to kick off. Freddie looked over to see one of the prisoners in a headlock over near the pool table. The lag screamed as a prison-made weapon was used on his face and a razor blade attached to a comb slashed the man’s cheek. Blood spurted everywhere, covering the green felt of the pool table.
Freddie knew it was a signal for the other prisoners to join in. A cracking of wood was heard as the cue stick was broken across a knee, leaving a lethal jagged edge. Fists and feet were flailing. Ten, twenty, fifty men started to jump in; battering one another with pent-up anger and excitement. The prison alarms were going off and Freddie heard the running of feet before he saw the back-up officers charging along the corridor.
It was chaos and Freddie could hardly see through the throng of men. He was searching for Eddie. Then he saw him, down on the floor, his face covered in blood as a lag booted him in the face. He saw the lag grab Eddie’s arm, twisting it round at the shoulder until it popped out of the socket.