A Place of Safety

Earlier that year, Rupes had come under pressure from her colleagues to give Lilly the boot because of her propensity to speak her mind and take on cases that would add little to their pension funds. Rupes had resisted but had agreed to improve her bottom line. One suggestion was that money should stop being wasted on barristers and that Lilly should handle her own advocacy wherever possible.

‘Wow,’ said Lilly. Drowning in the sea of divorce cases, she’d forgotten all about the exams she’d taken that summer.

‘Wow indeed.’ Rupinder’s tone was cold. Lilly was obviously not forgiven for her attempted escape. ‘Congratulations.’

Sheila drained her glass and helped herself to a refill from the jeroboam. She didn’t tilt her glass, and the expensive froth flowed down the stem.

‘I suppose you’ll be in the office even less now,’ she said. ‘And muggins here will get all the extra paperwork.’

‘Every cloud,’ said Lilly.

‘Perhaps we could all put our differences aside and pull as a team,’ said Rupinder, ‘just this once.’

Lilly girded herself for a lecture but was saved by her phone. ‘I told you Sam would get the hump.’

Rupes looked gratifyingly crestfallen so Lilly didn’t mention that football training wouldn’t finish for another hour.

She stood away from the others.

‘Miss Valentine?’

‘That’s me,’ she said.

‘I’m from Hounds Place. I wonder if you have any time to speak to one of the residents.’

Lilly looked over at Rupes and gave her best contrite parent face. ‘I’ll be right there.’

This 7 message thread spans 2 pages: [1] 2 ≪

The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Blood River at 15.05

This country used to be something to be proud of.

It used to stand for something around the world. Its people knew who they were.

Can we say that any more?

The People Of Britain Have Had Enough! Skin Lick at 15.12

No we can’t.

The country has gone to shit with all the bending over backwards for immigrants.

The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Snow White at 15.15

What really annoys me is when you walk down the street and every other person is a foreigner. I went on a train to London last week and heard about twenty different languages. I began to wonder where I was…

The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Skin Lick at 15.22

I know what you mean, Snow White. My home town has three mosques. Three!!!

We truly are living in Englastan.

The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Snow White at 15.26

I read that some schools are forced to celebrate Eid and Diwali but the children aren’t allowed to send Christmas cards to one another. I don’t want my children bringing up that way.

The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Skin Lick at 15.38

It’s a scandal.

The white indigenous population of this country will soon be in the minority and then we’ll lose all our heritage and culture.

Prepare to say goodbye to Easter, New Year’s Eve and Bonfire Night.

The People of Britain Have Had Enough! Blood River at 15.46

I for one am not about to surrender everything I hold dear.

Mass immigration has been a disaster and it’s got to stop.

We are at saturation point.

Write to your MP saying you will no longer tolerate being a second-class citizen in your own home.

Boycott shops owned by in-comers.

Fly the flag of St George with pride.

Snow White closed the lid of her laptop. She hated to leave a live discussion but she needed to pick up her husband’s shirts from the dry-cleaners’. She checked the clock. If she didn’t dilly-dally she’d still have enough time to pop into the butcher’s and get home in time for the live podcast.

A hostel had recently opened in Manor Wood, within half a mile of Sam’s school. The building, Hounds Place, had previously been a police-station house but had been bought up by a professional landlord who saw the potential for squeezing five desperate refugees into each room.

The influx of nearly thirty foreigners into a small village like Manor Wood had not been greeted with overwhelming delight. The infamous hospitality of the English countryside did not, it seemed, extend to the raggle-taggle bunch of young men and women who had risked everything to leave their wartorn homelands.

Lilly had begged Rupes to let her represent two fourteen-year-old boys who had fled the Taliban. Without any relatives in the UK care orders had been made without fuss or objection so the use of Lilly’s time had been negligible. Two had become four, then a teenager from Bosnia arrived and another from Uganda. Although she kept the increasing numbers quiet, particularly from Rupes, Lilly now represented at least half the kids in there. It didn’t take up too much of her energy, she told herself, as she checked her watch.

As soon as she crossed the threshold a young man in a checked shirt and denim jacket sidled over.

‘Hello, Artan,’ said Lilly.

He should have been a good-looking boy with his full pink lips and the blackest of lashes, but something about him always unnerved Lilly. His entire family had been killed in Kosovo, but he never seemed angry or sad or even confused. He was cold.

‘How are you?’ she asked.

Artan shook his head to indicate that things were not good. ‘I need to speak to you.’

‘I’ve got twenty minutes,’ said Lilly.