Breaking the Circle (14 page)

The towpath was dark. Maya had no plan – there was no time for a plan. It was sheer instinct that directed her feet. She remembered a bridge, but how far was it? There
were no lights on the path and she lurched and stumbled in Gerard’s ill-fitting boots. A string of twinkling fairy lights hung in the distance – a houseboat.

She heard a vehicle coming towards her. Looking for a place to hide, she veered off the path and threw herself down a sharp dip, rolling amongst the undergrowth. She pressed her body into
nettles and thorns as the vehicle’s headlights flared across the towpath. It was driving slowly, coming closer, tyres deep in the soft ruts of the path. She held her breath, blood pounding in
her ears. It was the white van, with Ginger at the wheel. He looked sideways as he drove past. She thought he’d spotted her, but he didn’t stop.

When the sound of the engine faded, she uncurled from her hiding place, rubbed at her skin where the nettles had prickled and slowly stood up. If she could make it to the bridge, she’d be
safe.

* * *

‘Who is it?’ a voice sang out, when Maya leaned over the side of the boat and knocked on the wooden deck. ‘What do you want?’

It was a woman’s voice. Maya could vaguely make out a figure sitting on the prow of the boat. There was a glow from a cigarette. She seemed to be alone.

‘Can you help me?’ Maya asked.

‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Maya Brown.’

As she spoke, Maya’s body slumped forward, her strength gone. She felt the cool wood of the boat’s deck beneath her cheek.

‘Come on up,’ the woman said.

Maya’s hand scrabbled for something to hold onto; she tried to pull herself up, but her legs were too heavy. She tilted sideways and fell against some steps. Her head rolled back and she
saw a shining band of stars. The air was cool on her face. Strong hands grasped her under the arms, supported her weight. She floated, bumped against something hard, sank down. A soft, light cloud
surrounded her. Somebody was singing softly, tunefully. Warmth spread through her bones. She rolled over and slept.

* * *

She dreamt of water, a swirling dark ocean, an underworld of drifting shapes and wafting weeds snagged at her hair, giant fish with razor teeth swam towards her, a man’s
bloated face rippled past – he was grinning, the thick ginger stubble on his chin like spikes from a sea urchin. The world was rocking.

Opening her eyes with a start, Maya couldn’t understand what was happening. She thought somebody was shaking her, but nobody was there. Where was she? She sat bolt upright and banged her
head on a shelf above, then, as she looked around, she remembered the woman, the canal boat – she was on it and it was moving.

Throwing back the quilt, she stumbled out of the bunk. The floor was cold on her feet, a cool, sharp breeze blew in through the open door. Light flooded her eyes as she peered out. The woman was
at the helm, steering the boat.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Maya demanded.

Wearing a long red skirt, black hair blowing in the wind, the woman looked at Maya with amusement. ‘Don’t worry. You’re not being kidnapped. I’m not a friggin’
pirate.’

Maya blinked and chewed on her lip. ‘Sorry. I woke up and the boat was moving.’

‘Yep, we’ve been to pick up supplies. You were spark out last night. By the looks of your face, you’d had a rough time.’

Gingerly, Maya touched her face, explored the swollen contours with her fingers. One of her eyes ached and her cheek was sore.

‘I’m goin’ to cook you breakfast,’ the woman said. ‘And by the way, my name is Rose.’

‘Breakfast?’

‘Meal at the beginnin’ of the day,’ the woman said, enunciating the words slowly and firmly. ‘You break the fast of night – food.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘How are you feelin’?’

‘OK.’

‘Go and freshen up. Bathroom’s small but everythin’ works. Use anythin’ you like; clean towel in the cupboard. Some Dettol in there too, dab some on those
scratches.’

The bathroom was tiny, there was hardly room to turn round, but there was a shower. And warm water – bliss! Undressing, Maya caught sight of her face and did a double take. She leaned
closer to the mirror. Wow! Ginger had hit her hard – it looked like she’d been ten rounds with a boxer. One side of her face was swollen, her left eye was puffy and half closed. She
touched her cheek gently and winced.

Gathering a towel, antiseptic and some soap, she undressed and slipped into the shower capsule. It was wondrous and reviving to wash the rank-smelling canal water from her body and out of her
hair. When she emerged and was drying herself off, she discovered lots more scratches and bruises but there were no deep cuts – a smear of antiseptic cream should do the trick.

Dipping her head, Maya returned to the main cabin and sat on the bunk, pulling on Gerard’s leather jacket and boots. The barge gave a shudder and bumped against something. When she looked
out of the small window, she saw it had returned to familiar surroundings. On the opposite side of the canal were the warehouses.

Looking towards the warehouse, she spotted a white van parked outside and reacted quickly, throwing herself back down on the bunk. She knew she couldn’t be seen – she’d be a
shadow behind the tiny boat window, but, even so, a nervous shudder ran through her. She gulped and hugged herself, remembering Ginger’s attack the previous night.

As she lay trying to calm herself, her mind was full of questions. Who was at the warehouse? What was going on inside? Were the gang still looking for her and what had happened to Kay?

From the main cabin, Maya watched Rose opening bins and cupboards in the galley kitchen. It was fascinating how a whole kitchen was packed into such a small space. Rose herself
seemed rather aloof, though kind enough to be cooking breakfast and taking care of her, which was very hospitable considering she must be wondering what had brought Maya, bruised and battered, to
her boat in the middle of the night. She must have heard the gunshots, Maya thought, but she didn’t seem interested in asking any further questions. An offer to help with breakfast had been
rebuffed with an abrupt comment.

‘You think there’s room for two people in here?’

While Rose was busy, Maya looked round for a phone. She had to reassure Helen she was all right. If Zac had seen her shoved into the van last night, he would have raised the alarm and Helen
would be frantic. Plus Simon would have a whole gang of people searching for her.

‘Could I use your phone?’ she asked Rose.

‘Knife and forks in that basket,’ Rose replied, turning round and pointing. ‘Pull the table out.’

Maya did as she was told, pulling up the small tabletop and wedging a leg under it so that it was stable, then she laid out knives and forks, salt and pepper. Rose brought mugs of tea to the
table and then plates of toast, scrambled eggs and tomato. She didn’t speak until she’d sipped her tea and had a bite of toast.

‘That’s better,’ she said, and then, brushing back her dark hair, she gave Maya a direct questioning look. ‘So, what’s this all about?’

Maya wondered what to say. The truth seemed improbable, but she felt she ought to give Rose an explanation in return for her hospitality. It was also evident that she wasn’t going to get
the use of a phone until she’d satisfied Rose’s curiosity.

‘A warehouse down there is used by criminals,’ she told Rose. ‘They’re drug dealers. One of them gave my friend a fix of heroin that was bad. She ended up in hospital and
I was trying to stop him doing it again. Then, er, well, it’s complicated, they sort of captured me and I escaped.’

Rose raised her eyebrows. ‘Somethin’ to do with the gunshots?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re a bit young to be tacklin’ drug crime, aren’t you?’

Maya nodded. ‘Yes. I was trying to help a friend and one thing led to another. ’

Rose’s eyes narrowed. ‘Sometimes it does well to leave things alone. Let the criminals deal with each other.’

‘I can’t do that, they’ve got my friend. Have you got a phone?’

‘Nah. Can’t stand the things.’

‘Not even a mobile?’

Rose chuckled, her brown eyes gleaming. ‘Do I look like the sort of person who has a mobile?’

Maya took a gulp of tea. ‘I have to be going.’

‘Sit down,’ Rose ordered. ‘Finish your breakfast. There’s a payphone at the pub at the end of the towpath. I’ll take you down there when you’ve eaten. Have
you got any money?’

Maya shook her head, but then had another thought and felt in the pockets of the clothes she was wearing. Slipping her hand into Gerard’s jeans, she pulled out a tight wad of notes. Her
heart turned over.

‘I . . . I seem to have acquired some,’ she said. Her face flushed hot with shame. It was terrible to use drug money, but she’d deal with her conscience later – it was
time to get going.

* * *

At the other end of the phone, Helen’s voice was tight and shaky. ‘Oh, thank God!’ was her first exclamation when she heard Maya’s voice.

All Maya could do was apologise and squirm with guilt as she heard the pain and worry in her gran’s voice.

‘Where are you? What happened?’ Helen demanded.

‘I’m all right, I’m fine. I’ll tell you everything when I get back. I’m near Camden. I’ll be home soon. I’ll get a taxi.’

‘How on earth did you end up there? Your friend said. . .’

Maya didn’t let her finish. ‘Gran, I’m OK. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.’

Rose was waiting in the bar of the pub, talking to the cleaner.

‘How was that?’ she asked, when Maya reappeared.

‘Difficult.’

‘Not surprised.’

Maya grimaced. ‘Thanks for helping me.’

Rose nodded. ‘You’d better get home quick.’

Maya said goodbye and hurried away. Walking down towards the main road, she saw people going about their everyday business and suddenly remembered it was Tuesday and she should have been at
school. How had she got mixed up in all this? Never again would she take that short cut! The last few days had been horrendous. She’d been mugged, chased by a vicious dog, almost injected
with a fatal dose of heroin, battered and narrowly escaped being raped. If you added that to the drama of the summer – it was enough danger for a lifetime.

She stopped walking and closed her eyes, tried to breathe deeply and calmly, but failed. Was she crazy? Shouldn’t she just walk away from all of this? Her face screwed up in horror as she
remembered Ginger’s hands on her, his rancid breath hot on her face, panting, pulling at her clothes. She opened her eyes and looked down at the red circles on her wrists. She turned her
palms upwards and saw her hands shaking.

Don’t fall to pieces now, she told herself, you’re still on the gang’s patch and could be spotted at any moment. Go home!

‘Turn left at the end of the towpath, plenty of taxis there; or you’ll see a bus stop in front of a café.’ Those had been Rose’s directions.

Follow Rose’s directions, don’t think about anything else, just concentrate on getting home. Breathe, breathe!

There were no taxis. None. She scanned the road up and down and then started to run. She flew past the converted flats, past two walkers with dogs, past a fenced-in scrapyard, and didn’t
stop running when she left the towpath road, but continued as she turned into a busy street. In a blur of images, she noticed the café and bus stop but didn’t slow down. People stared
at the tall girl racing along, long legs striding out, blue-black hair streaming behind her, dressed not in running clothes but in big boots, leather jacket and jeans.

Then she saw a bus coming down the street. It would stop at the end of the road, the towpath was a dead end, it had to turn back, go south. Abruptly she pulled up, turned and raced towards the
bus. Three people were waiting at the bus stop. Maya leapt on board just as the doors began to close.

* * *

When Helen opened the door, she looked anxious and pale. On seeing Maya, she stepped forward, threw out her arms and hugged her granddaughter. ‘Thank God, you’re
safe!’

‘I’m so sorry, Gran. I couldn’t call you. I would have, if I could.’

‘What happened? Where’ve you been. I’ve been worried sick,’ Helen breathed, holding Maya at arm’s length. ‘You’re hurt. Your face is all swollen and. .
.’ She gently cupped Maya’s face in her hand. ‘Oh, Maya, what on earth’s happened to you? I thought you’d been kidnapped. Why the hell didn’t you get in touch
with me?’