A Place of Safety

Lilly laughed. ‘I’d like to say a basque and fishnet stockings.’

A passing parent wrinkled her nose. Lilly wanted to stick out her tongue.

‘But,’ said Jack, ‘I’m sensing a “but”’.

‘To be honest, I’m at school, and even I’m not brazen enough to parade around here in my undies.’

‘You wouldn’t want to make all those yummy mummies jealous,’ he said.

‘Now I remember why I like you.’

She sauntered to the football pitch where Sam, in goal, was in position to save a penalty. Lilly hardly dared watch, even though it was only a practice session. ‘So how’re things?’

‘Same old, same old,’ he said.

‘Oh,’ she groaned, as Sam batted the ball clear of the goal, the slap of the leather against his skin audible even from the touchline. Though it was undoubtedly uncool for a nine year old to show any pain his middle-aged mother couldn’t help herself.

‘You okay?’ he asked. ‘You sound a bit distracted.’

‘I had a funny meeting just before you called.’

‘Funny ha ha, or funny peculiar?’

‘Funny disturbing,’ she said. ‘A girl from the hostel has been raped.’

‘One of the asylum seekers?’

‘Yeah. Her friend wanted to know what would happen if they got the police involved.’

‘And?’ Jack asked.

‘And I told him the truth.’

The referee blew his whistle and ten boys ran towards Sam, who had clearly saved the day.

‘I’ve got a bad feeling that he might do something stupid,’ she said.

Ever the professional, Jack’s tone was serious. ‘Like what?’

Lilly waved at her son, who shook hands gravely with the other side and then scampered towards her, wind-milling his arms.

‘I don’t know, it could be nothing. Ignore me.’

‘It doesn’t sound like nothing, Lilly.’

Sam was almost upon her. ‘You know how I overreact. He was probably just upset. Anyone would be.’

‘Lilly, you don’t overreact,’ said Jack. ‘You have excellent instincts, and if you think something is going down you need to tell someone.’

‘I will, well, I might. I need to think it through.’ Sam jumped into her arms, nearly knocking her off her feet. ‘Look, I have to go, Peter Shilton needs his tea.’

* * *

Welcome, members. Today’s discussion will feature regular contributor Nigel Purves.

Snow White helped herself to a Garibaldi and settled down. Nigel was always good value.

…I want to talk to you all about diversity and I want you to think about whether this is a good thing.

Snow White dunked her biscuit and smiled at her screen. Nigel was such an articulate man, able to make his point with a clarity and conviction that was sadly lacking in most politicians. And he knew how to work a suit and tie. The Des Lynam of the Far Right.

…On the face of it we might find difference a good thing—after all, who wants everything to be the same? Diversity makes life interesting, no?

But pause for a second and ask yourself what makes family so special.

Snow White reached for a ginger snap. Nigel was on top form.

Isn’t it the fact that everyone is cut from the same cloth? That you have things in common? That you are a homogenous group?

Nigel ran a hand through his hair, still thick with flecks of grey.

Whatever anyone tells you, it is perfectly natural for each of us to want to be with our own kind. Some might call that racist. I say it’s just common sense…

‘Mum, I’m starving.’

Bugger. Snow White shut down the podcast.

‘Is there anything to eat?’

The girls were home early. Nigel would have to wait.

‘I have scones,’ she said. ‘Or crumpets. You choose.’

‘I know a man who knows a man. He’ll get you what you need.’

Artan nods and hands the money to the Albanian.

He doesn’t ask any questions. Knows he wouldn’t get any answers. He’s thought about this and nothing else since he met with the solicitor.

These boys must pay.

Chapter Two (#ucf1c22e8-1e04-5f02-9668-6a9fb61ff26b)

‘You will be there, Mum?’

Lilly looked up from the washing-up bowl and smiled at her son. ‘Yes, Sam.’

He stuffed the last spoonful of porridge into his mouth and beamed. ‘Sometimes you get held up at work.’