Nowhere Girl (32 page)

As they approached the hospital entrance, Bridget came and replaced Cate’s hold on Fahran with her own, and began speaking in a low, steady voice. The boy looked up at her with his one good eye, his head cocked as though he was listening. Bridget became a different woman. Calm and patient. Cate saw her now as a nurse, how she would have soothed the sick.

“Fahran, I’m going to tell you what will happen when we go through those doors, okay? Because you might feel nervous, but everything is going to be fine. And you will see what a special place it is, because the machine that will heal you is really amazing. And big, too, like a spaceship or a rocket. You won’t see that side, you’ll just see the bed, which is white, it’s like a mini-spaceship just for you. For your special journey.”

Amazingly, perhaps picking up on Bridget’s encouragement, Fahran smiled, and Bridget bent to hug him. She kissed the boy’s cheek, just where his bandage stopped.

“And because you are an astronaut, you’ll have something around your head. You have to lie very still, Fahran, but you’ll be given a little buzzer right here,” she took the boys hand and pressed his palm. “And if you feel frightened you just press it and you’ll be slid out of your spaceship. But I don’t think you’ll be scared, even when the noises start. Because it’s just the noise of you landing on the moon. And the knocking is just the friendly aliens, who want to invite you to see their home. And they will knock for a long time, but that’s okay. You can just think about them, and say hello to them in your head. And then you can imagine waving goodbye, because it will all be over.”

Heidelberg Ion Therapy Centre looked more like an airport than hospital, a glass modern structure, gleaming in the sun.

Cate stepped aside. “You’ll be okay, Fahran.” She nodded to Amina. “You’re in good hands.”

Bridget’s face snapped round. “You’re not coming in?”

“I’ve got you here, Bridget. I’m already risking a great deal. Don’t ask me to do any more, please.”

Bridget dropped Fahran’s arm so swiftly that he stumbled, clinging desperately to Amina who was also looking at Cate with a terrified expression.

“You make sure that Fahran is registered, that he is admitted for assessment. Then you call me and say it’s done, and I’ll call Jak, as we agreed. I’ll come and get you once I have Ellie.”

Bridget clutched Cate, hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear, “Make sure my daughter is safe. Nothing else matters. Just make sure you get Ellie.”

When Fahran coughs there is blood on his brown bear, and some puss is coming from under the bandage of his eye.

Amina is glad to be at the hospital. The journey was unpleasant, the British woman drove fast, and Amina was scared by the world outside the car window.

As they travelled towards the hospital she could see that Germany was not like Algeria. The sky here was bigger, the land was very green. The rain was the main difference. In Algeria the rain comes rarely, but when it does it is to be feared, it makes fierce rivers flow through the town.

Fahran leans his head on her shoulder, sitting in the waiting room. He is such a good boy, but she knows he wants to be with his mother. Amina begins to hum, a song that Omi liked when she was cooking or busy about the home. It makes Amina feel content, and she hopes to pass some of this to the sick boy.

He leans against her, his face nestled against her arm, and they wait for the doctor to arrive.

We stagger along the road, Jodie and I, as though drunk. I feel it too, unsteady and confused. If anything, she’s shaking harder, and she rubs her arms constantly even though it’s a warm day. As we pass a bin she drops the bloodied yellow dress into it, it hardly makes a sound.

“Now the knife, Ellie.”

I don’t want to give it up, but I know I must, and it goes in the bin with the dress. I lift my face to the sun, feeling its warmth for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. I can’t believe I’m actually out. I’m free.

“Let’s knock on the nearest house,” I say, but Jodie pinches my wrist hard with her fingers.

“Idiot! You think any place here will help us? You, with your dirty yellow t-shirt covered in blood. Me.” She does not say why they would not help her, though I cast a glance at her track marks. Her face is red with heat and her hair is matted with sweat. Around her eyes, old mascara is thick and clogged. She is right, any normal person would turn us away.

We walk farther and the street becomes busier, there are people leaning on walls exchanging money, and alcohol bottles line the edges of the path. I know where we are now, this is the rue de Strasbourg and soon we will be at the Gare. And then I see a police officer, monitoring the activity around the front of the station.

As I approach he looks up and his face takes in my appearance dully, maybe judging me to be a prostitute or a junkie. Jodie is close to my side, pulling me away, and I think of the bloodied yellow dress hidden in a bin just a few hundred yards away.

“Jodie,” I say, urgently. “None of this is our fault.” But still she will not walk with me. She stands, watching, as I approach the police officer. He is in full uniform, which must be hot, and his bored expression tells me he has been standing there a long time. It is only when I speak that his eyes spark to life, as if he finally has a task.

“My name is Ellie Scheen. And I have been the victim of a kidnapping.”

Twenty minutes later I am being driven, but this time it is different.

I am not puking my guts up, trying to stay conscious. This time I know where we are going: to my mother.

The police officer at the train station radios in the news and another man arrives swiftly; he tells me his name is Detective Massard. He drives carefully, so we are constantly overtaken by flashy cars, even by Dutch caravans. My eyes are greedy, hungry for the sun on the river, the blue sky over the wooded slopes as we leave Luxembourg for the meeting point with my mum.

It is all happening so quickly. He hasn’t told me where this meeting will be, but he did say it would take a few hours. Just a few hours and this will all be over.

Safe. Back with Mum. The two ideas jar, contradict each other.

“I was told the kidnapping was organised by her,” I say, wanting him to correct me. He keeps his eyes on the road, he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to. Jodie’s story makes perfect sense. And that says a great deal about her, and about me.

“Will Jodie be okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” He softens then, his voice drops to a more human tone. “She’s going to help us with the police case against your kidnappers. She’ll be given a place to stay and an allowance. She’ll be looked after, Ellie, I promise.”

I shiver, though I’m not cold, it’s actually too warm in the police car. There’s no air conditioning and I’m starting to feel sick.

So this is what it means, to be rescued. To be safe.

Why then do I still feel so afraid?

Cate was clutching the phone with both hands, waiting for it to ring. It vibrated first, and she answered the call, desperate to know if the crazy plan had worked.

“Bridget? What’s happened?”

“Fahran is in admissions. They’ve taken his blood, to test for type, and he’s in a gown. They’ll do an MRI next. Everything is underway, Cate. I’ve done my part, now it’s Jak’s turn.”

Cate called Jak’s number and told him the news, then waited for confirmation about the handover of Ellie, but the response that came was not in words. She heard a choking cough, then a sob.

“I think Fahran is in excellent care,” Cate told Jak. “Heidelberg hospital was the first to use proton therapy in Europe, and it’s world-class. And Bridget told me she’s paid in full. Fahran will have all the treatments he needs.”

Breathing came, heavy and jagged. The man was trying to control himself and failing.

A younger voice, also male, took over.

“Cate? It’s Malik.”

Malik. The baby that had been saved in Algeria, his life had bound Bridget and Jak forever, and somehow led to this moment.

“Malik, I’m going to drive to the meeting place and wait for you to bring Ellie,” she said. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“Malik? Is everything okay?”

Then the line went dead.

Twenty minutes later, Cate sat on the topmost level of the Thingstatte. After Malik had hung up on her, she proceeded to the meeting place. It was deserted, a good choice for Ellie’s handover.

The sun warmed her, but looking down to the open platform at the base of the amphitheatre, Cate shivered, imagining the ghosts of Germany’s past. Youths in brown uniforms, tired from the walk up the mountain but excited to be hearing words from their leader, who would walk through the entrance and throw his voice so it resounded around the stadium, calling on them to serve their country.

Cate closed her eyes. She felt exhausted, she could fall asleep right now if it was not for her heart pumping blood in her ears.

Let it be over now. Let it be okay
.

Her palms sweated on her phone, though all the calls had been done. Bridget was still at the hospital with Fahran, who was now receiving his first treatment. Ellie would be brought here, soon, and then it would be over. They could all go home.

Cate scrolled through her contacts and didn’t allow herself to consider what she was doing before she pressed MUM.

The answer came on the second ring. “Cate?”

“I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

A silence. “Your sister is here. I’ll put her on.”

Cate panicked. “Just tell me what happened, Mum? Is Dad in prison?”

Another pause. “He got what he deserved. Speak to your sister, you need to.”

Cate could hear them talking, could imagine Liz saying she wouldn’t speak to Cate, her mother insisting. Finally, she heard her sister’s voice. “How are things, Cate?”

“Fine.” Then she decided she was too tired to lie. “Fucked up. I might be home soon.”

“We’ll be here for you. Mum and me. I’ve moved in with her.”

“Is she drinking?”

“Not yesterday. Not today. One day at a time.”

Cate paused, struggling to take in this glimmer of good news. “Is Dad in prison?”

“He did a plea bargain, so his sentence of five years was suspended. He changed his plea to guilty, Cate. It was all I wanted.”

Cate sighed. So there had been no interrogation in the witness box. He had spared Liz that.

“I’m going to be okay, Cate. So is Mum. It’s over now. But what about you? You don’t sound well.”

Cate ran a hand through her hair and held the phone away from her ear, not able to stand her sister’s sympathy when she had failed to be there for her. Cate cried, wept hot tears, for the life she was about to lose and the mess she was in. From the phone she could hear Liz calling her name, and she lifted it back to her ear.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is, it will be okay. I promise you. And I’ve been to hell and back, so I should know. When you have family, things can be fixed. I love you, Cate. Mum does too.”

Hardly able to speak, crying hard now, the two sisters said goodbye.

She was wiping her face when a car drove into the car park and second later, two figures began to walk through the entrance in the distance and out into the performance space of the stadium. A man, whom she recognised from his walk even before she saw his face, as Olivier. And next to him was a teenage girl. Ellie.

Cate pushed up from the stone step and began to clamber down, taking the wide steps too fast, stumbling but quickening downwards, towards the girl, who was now in the shadow of the dramatic proscenium entrance. Then she was there, on the platform, with the girl, grabbing her, holding her to check she was real.

“Oh Ellie, oh thank God.”

Ellie collapsed, letting Cate take her slight weight, both clinging to the other, two strangers locked together by a nightmare, now woken to find the world, for ever changed.

As she held Ellie, Cate looked over at her lover, searching for blame or anger but found only fatigue etched on Olivier’s face.

He touched her arm and she couldn’t hold back, she leaned into him, still holding Ellie, wanting for one last time to be held by him. For Olivier to love her, before he discovered what she had done. She needed this moment, his warmth, the spiced smell of his skin, his arms around her.

Then she pulled away, and as the three of them separated Ellie stepped aside, as if needing some space. She wandered a few feet, gazing out at the stone steps of the amphitheatre. Then she sat down, her head bowed.

Cate took the opportunity to draw closer to Olivier, not wanting Ellie to hear her. “I can tell you where to find Bridget. You were right, she organised the whole thing. You were right, Olivier.”

He looked at her. As if he too knew that this was the end for them.

“I know, Cate. We’ve known for days now. We’ve been watching.”

“Watching the house?”

“Listening to calls too. Achim has helped us. We just needed to make sure Ellie was safe before we could arrest Bridget.”

Cate saw it then, that he had known all along, every move she and Bridget had made. “You knew about the trip to Metz?”

“Of course. I was in the cathedral with you.”

Anger shot through Cate, unjustified though it was. He had hidden things, too.

“Will I be charged?” she asked, thinking it was deserved.

“Not if you help us to prosecute Bridget. We’ll need you to give a statement, and to appear in court, but that won’t be for many months yet.”

“She’s sick, Olivier. I don’t think she belongs in prison.”

“That’s not for you or I to decide, Cate. We’re both done with it now. This is in the prosecutor’s hands.”

They stared at each other, only two feet but many miles apart. Cate approached Ellie, and sat close beside her. She had never met the girl before, but she felt she had known her since birth. Olivier followed and looked at his watch.

“How did you know to come here?” Cate asked Olivier.

“Jak. Once Jodie told us the address it was very quick. He’s in police custody, but he told us about the meeting point. He’s very distressed. He just wants to know that his son will still get the treatment.”