A Place of Safety

He groaned. ‘It’s madness.’

And of course it was. Sheer madness. Sam would hit the roof; David would apply to have her sectioned; and Rupes…Lilly shuddered at the very thought.

‘I can’t let them send her to prison.’

‘But we’re both involved in this case,’ he said. ‘Me in particular.’

Lilly felt a stab of guilt as to how much harder this would make things for Jack.

‘She’s just a kid,’ she said.

He shook her gently by the shoulders. ‘It’s not your responsibility.’

‘Then whose is it, Jack? ’Cos so far the “authorities”’, she made speech marks in the air, ‘have done a pretty piss-poor job of looking after her.’ She rubbed his lapel. ‘I owe her.’

‘For what?’

‘For not doing something before she got dragged into this unholy mess.’

At that moment Milo waltzed in and dumped a binbag of clothes on the floor. ‘I’ll bring the rest of her things later.’

Jack, eyes wide, watched him leave the room. ‘Is that what’s-his-name?’

‘Milo,’ she said.

‘He seems at home.’

Lilly sniffed. ‘I’ve barely spoken to him.’

Milo stuck his head back into the room. ‘Dishwasher still working okay?’

Jack looked from Lilly to Milo and back again. Lilly opened her mouth to explain.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve finally got that dishwasher to work?’

It was David, carrying Sam on his back. He looked from Lilly to Jack to Milo and back again.

‘Welcome to Piccadilly bloody Circus,’ said Jack, and pushed his way out.

Lilly poured two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and handed one to David.

‘You look knackered,’ said Lilly.

‘Fleur’s got colic.’

‘Isn’t she too old for that?’

David took a sip. ‘I think she just likes crying.’

‘She’s a baby, that’s her job,’ said Lilly.

‘I don’t remember Sam being like that.’

Lilly laughed. Of course he bloody was. You just didn’t notice ‘cos I did all the dirty work.’

David opened his mouth to argue but stopped. ‘You were always much better at sorting things out than me. You never seemed to mind the noise and the mess.’

‘I thrive on a challenge.’

‘I do wonder if you don’t just love chaos,’ he said.

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘Look at the facts, Lil: things were going well with you and Jack, so what do you do? Move a Bosnian refugee into the house.’

‘Kosovan. And, anyway, it won’t be for long. Once I can show the court she’s not going to try to leg it I’ll get her moved back to the hostel.’

‘Sam’s not a happy bunny,’ said David.

Lilly forced a smile. ‘He’ll be fine.’

‘He loves having you to himself,’ said David. ‘He hated sharing you with all those kids in care.’

‘He shares you with Cara and Fleur.’

David finished his wine and grabbed his coat. ‘I don’t want to argue, Lil, I’m just pointing out the obvious.’

Lilly closed the door behind him and headed upstairs. ‘Everything is going to be fine,’ she said to herself. But who was she trying to convince?

In court, when the entire system—no, the world—seemed to be against Anna, she had jumped into the fray, thinking only of how she could help, how she could make amends. Now, as she smoothed her son’s duvet over the slow rise and fall of his shoulders, drinking in his warmth, she questioned the sense of her actions. Yes, the girl had been through hell, but did Lilly really need to bring her into her home? Sam’s home?

As she moved down the hall she heard the sharp plink of a dripping tap and turned back to the bathroom. The tap needed a new washer, but judicious pressure normally did the trick. As she pulled it to the left she noticed a black tidemark around the basin. Not the usual ring of dirt but a slick line, almost purple. Had Sam been washing paintbrushes upstairs again? She’d have to have a word with him in the morning. Artistic license was one thing, but he brushed his teeth in here.

Then she saw the plastic tube in the bin. Hidden under a wodge of tissue, only the end peeped out. Lilly would have missed it but for the airbrushed picture of some impossibly glossy-locked model.

It was hair dye.

Since even Sam would struggle to find a use for a tube of dye, it must be Anna’s. But why would a sixteen-year-old girl facing a murder charge worry about that? And why would she try to hide it?

She was still contemplating the tube when Anna came in. They both blushed.

‘I once went green,’ joked Lilly. ‘Now that was a mistake.’

Anna didn’t smile. ‘This is my natural colour,’ she said. ‘Before I go grey.’

‘Oh, you poor, poor girl,’ said Lilly, and enveloped her client in her arms. Anna stiffened, but Lilly didn’t let go.

Sometimes doing the right thing wasn’t convenient, but that didn’t stop it being right.