Breaking the Circle (2 page)

Triumphant, she hoisted herself up on top of the wall but her mobile slipped out of her hand. There was no time to retrieve it; the dog wasn’t down and out. It was yelping and snapping
again.

Time to jump!

Landing amongst big tufts of spiky grass, she scrambled to her feet and lurched forwards. There was nothing to use as a weapon – no stick or anything – but, over in the far corner,
she spotted an old brick outbuilding. Racing towards it, she slipped on a sheet of glass. It shattered and a shard of glass razored her foot, but the pain only urged her onward. Behind her, she
could hear the dog barking itself into a frenzy, scrabbling over the wall. In the nick of time, she threw herself against the door of the building; mercifully it gave way, catapulting her into the
sanctuary of the shed. She turned and kicked the door shut as the dog’s nose appeared round the edge. Then, with trembling hands, she picked up a brick from a pile near the door and hammered
home a rusty bolt.

Loud commands boomed over the wall. ‘Gunner. ‘Ere, Gunner!’

Leaning against the door, she listened hard. On the other side, the dog was panting, hot breath seeping through gaps in the door. Would the boy come after it?

Another command. ‘Gunner, ‘ere! Come ‘ere, you useless piece of meat.’

The panting stopped. The grass rustled, broken glass crashed; there was a loud yelp. She waited, every nerve trembling, but the boy didn’t come.

Standing in the empty building, she cursed the girl who’d followed her, the scumbag in the hood, the mad dog and her own stupidity. Torn skirt, bleeding foot, scratched legs, nerves in
shreds – why had she been so stubborn and taken the short cut? What an idiot! She should have trusted her instincts – she knew that girl was trouble as soon as she’d laid eyes on
her.

Another shout came from a distance.

’What the. . .?’ There were more words, the translation lost in the air. What felt like a lifetime passed. Several times she nearly pulled back the bolt on the door, but the thought
of the boy and his killer dog lying in wait kept her inside. Pressing her ear to the wooden planks of the door, she heard the shout of children in the playground, and the distant drone of traffic.
She turned her head and peered through a crack – nobody was visible, there was no sign of the dog, the guy, or the girl. Finally she screwed up her courage and ventured out, easing the door
open bit by bit until she was sure there was no one waiting to ambush her.

Squinting into the evening sunlight, she scouted for an escape route. The waste ground was enclosed by high walls – the way she’d entered seemed the best way out. Carefully avoiding
shards of glass and stopping to look and listen every few steps, she picked her way over to the wall. The ground was lower on this side, the wall high, but a few flying attempts to get a foothold
paid off and she was able to swing her legs up and over and drop down onto the path.

A nervous glance up and down the track confirmed that there was no sign of the hooded thug or his dog. So, top priority was to search for her mobile, but she knew right away it had gone. Of
course, the boy had spotted it and picked it up. He’d taken her schoolbag containing books and money, her purse containing her bank card, but most upsetting was the loss of the phone that Pam
had given her just before she left. It was a secure number which Pam, her mum, might call at any moment. Now she wouldn’t be able to answer. A mixture of sadness and anger welled up as she
looked again in the spot where she was certain she’d dropped it. It wasn’t there. She kicked at a bottle and swore loudly.

Damn him for stealing her mobile! It was complicated enough to stay in touch with her mum without added problems.

There was nothing for it but to head home. She walked warily towards the playground at the end of the path. Children were playing on swings, a couple of men were walking dogs. It was a lovely
summer’s evening. Gran would be waiting for her in the flat, but she couldn’t even call to tell her she’d be late.

As she crossed in front of a playground on the edge of the estate, a couple of young boys ran up to her – shaved heads, cheeky grins.

‘Give us fifty p!’ the smallest one demanded.

‘No, go away.’

‘Go on, tight arse.’

‘Shove off. I haven’t got any money. Some thieving yob just nicked my purse.’

The boys started to laugh. ‘That’d be Gerard. We just seen ‘im.’

’He went that way with ‘is dog. He’s cool, Gerard.’

’Oh yeah. Very cool, with his mad dog and thieving girlfriend.’

’His girlfriend’s over there.’

A stone whistled past Maya’s ear as she walked towards the place the boys had pointed to. Skirting round some straggly bushes and two upturned shopping trolleys, she emerged into a
concrete square and saw the girl, Kay, sitting on a low wall in front of a block of flats. She looked miserable, and made no effort to move as Maya walked up to her.

Any traces of a tough streetwise kid had disappeared – Kay was a picture of despair. The collar of her leather jacket was turned up, framing a pale face, her skin
stretched tightly over sharp cheekbones so that it looked transparent. From deep hollows, her golden eyes shone out wide and luminous, too big for her face and full of unshed tears. She looked
dazed and lost, fragile as a trapped bird.

It would have been easy to feel sorry for her, but Maya reminded herself that this girl had mugged her.

‘Where’s my mobile?’ she demanded.

Kay sniffed and said sullenly, ‘Gerard, he take it. He rob me. He take everything.’

‘Oh, tough luck! Poor you, but actually it was my stuff, not yours!’

Kay sniffed again, wiping the back of her hand across her face. ‘You do not understand. I owe him money.’

Maya shrugged, ‘Not my problem.’

A tear rolled down the girl’s face. ‘Gerard is angry, very angry, with me, with you.’

Maya gulped. ‘Angry with me, what’s he angry with me for? He’s got my money, my mobile!’

‘His dog cut its foot, so he is angry with you. He take him to the vet.’

‘Oh dear, very inconvenient. I can see that would be my fault.’ Maya took hold of Kay’s arm and hauled her to her feet. ‘Come on.’

Kay didn’t resist, but groaned in pain. ‘Where will you take me?’

‘To the vet. I want my mobile back.’

Kay looked as if somebody had just told her she was standing next to an unexploded bomb; her eyes widened, her mouth gaped. ‘Gerard is not a good man; when he is angry, he make the dog
bite – he is very crazy.’

Yeah, Maya thought, I’ll buy that – anybody who walks about with a dog like Gunner has a screw loose. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll think of something,’ she said.
‘Where’s he taken the dog? Which vet?’

‘On the high street, next to the bank. We went there last week when the dog was sick.’

‘Right, we’ll have to hurry.’

Kay pulled back. ‘I will not go. I cannot.’

‘If you don’t help me, I’m calling the cops, I’ll tell them you robbed me.’

‘No!’ Kay looked terrified, throwing her arms over her head as if to defend herself. ‘If you call the police they will arrest me.’

She was totally panicked and made to run off, but as soon as she put weight on her foot, she stopped and crumpled in pain. Leaning back, she grabbed onto the wall for support and hung there, one
leg in the air.

Maya was just about to reach out and pull her along when Kay suddenly lifted her head and said with a gleam of triumph, ‘How can you call the police? You have no mobile.’

Maya gave a wry smile. ‘Erm. . . OK. You’re right. Look, I’ll help you, if you help me.’

The girl screwed up her face, eyeing Maya doubtfully. ‘How can you help me?’ She winced in pain as she tried again to stand on her damaged leg.

Putting out a hand to steady her, Maya said more sympathetically, ‘After we get my mobile, I’ll take you home.’

There was an immediate change in Kay’s expression. ‘Home?’ she queried, eagerly. ‘You will take me to your home?’

‘Not my home, yours,’ Maya replied.

Immediately the light in Kay’s face died. ‘I do not have a home.’

‘You must live somewhere.’

Kay answered with a dismissive snort, then slumped down on the wall. ‘Yes, I live somewhere,’ she said, bitterly. ‘Doorways, subway, park, a horrible apartment. Sometimes, if
Gerard lets me, I stay at his place.’

‘But that’s horrible.’

Kay shrugged while Maya stood silently, thinking how awful it would be to be homeless. She looked down at the dark roots showing through Kay’s stringy hair, noticed the multiple piercings
in her ear.

‘Can’t you get a job, find somewhere proper to live?’

Kay shot her a challenging glare, her eyes blazing fire. ‘Why, why do you think I live like this? I am illegal, I come to the UK to work, six months I work as a cleaner. I clean every day
for many hours, then they tell me I do not work hard enough. I owe them money. They use me, so I run away. Now Gerard use me. I have no control – no papers for work.’ Her lips pouted
and trembled and she gazed off into the distance. ‘Before I come here I was a good girl. Now I am a thief and a junkie.’

For a moment Maya was silent, she didn’t know what to say. Then, moving closer, she placed her hand firmly under Kay’s arm. ‘I could try to help you.’

A face full of suspicion looked back at her. Maya saw shadows of past disappointments and betrayals. Suddenly her offer of help seemed empty and worthless, a promise she couldn’t deliver
on.

‘Perhaps I won’t be able to. I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘But at least let me try. My mum works for the government. She knows a lot of people.’

Kay sniffed dismissively. ‘If the government know about me, they will arrest me.’

‘My mum got me into this country, she adopted me. I’m legal.’

A sudden flash of hope brightened Kay’s face. ‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘You help me walk. I will show you the vet but how will you get the mobile?’

‘Not me – you! You stole it, you get it back.’

‘No! If Gerard finds out I help you he will beat me.’

‘Important you don’t get caught then. Come on.’

* * *

Along the high street, evening traffic was piling up and motorists stared curiously at the two girls stumbling along – one a tall schoolgirl with a mane of blue-black
hair, hobbling slightly, her leg streaked with blood, and her companion, a thin, waif-like, blonde girl with a more pronounced limp.

As they made their way towards the vet’s, Kay was whimpering in pain and Maya asked herself if she was being stupidly stubborn about retrieving her mobile. But she couldn’t give up.
The phone was her only direct link to her mum, top security agent, Pamela Brown. A week earlier she’d watched Pam pack a suitcase with light summer clothing, sandals and long silk scarves.
She’d guessed she was heading somewhere east, but Pam was cagey about her assignment.

‘The fewer details you know about my destination, the better, don’t you think?’ Pam had said. ‘Look what trouble it got us into during the summer.’

‘Oh yeah? And who would have saved you if I hadn’t?’ Maya shot back.

Pam had dropped the clothes she was holding, wound her arms round her daughter and hugged her tightly.

‘Never think I don’t value what you did,’ she said, kissing the top of Maya’s head. ‘But I want a normal life for you – school, going out with friends, having
fun, not worrying about me.’

But how could Maya not worry when Pam was far away from home, most likely in some dangerous, inhospitable place? Her work as head of a government counter terrorism unit with links to MI5 and MI6
was crucial to the country’s security, her expertise always in demand. Maya hadn’t heard from her in six days except for one brief call to say she’d arrived – wherever she
was. Since then, Maya’s mobile had been switched on day and night, because with different time zones Pam might call at any moment. Even at school, although she was breaking the rules, she
carried her phone in her pocket.

* * *

The vet’s surgery was fronted by darkened shop windows that gave onto the street. Maya tried to peer in but couldn’t see a thing. She had more luck peeping through
the notices on the clear glass door and saw a couple of people sitting with baskets at their feet, but there was no Gunner or Gerard.

‘Don’t let him see you,’ Kay urged, standing behind Maya.

‘He isn’t there.’

‘He must be.’

‘Could be in with the vet. They wouldn’t keep Gunner hanging about – not with those guinea pigs and rabbits.’

Suddenly the door opened and a huge beefy guy carrying a white rabbit came out. Maya held the door open then stepped inside.

‘Can I help you?’ a woman behind the reception desk asked.

‘I . . . er. . .’

‘Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?’ the woman said, eyeing Maya’s bloody leg.

‘Oh, no, I’m fine, I . . . er . . . sorry, I just wondered. . . I’m looking for somebody.’

‘Young man and a dog with a cut paw?’

‘Yes.’

‘He’s in surgery. It was an emergency. Could be a while yet,’ the woman said pointing to a door at the back of the waiting area.

‘Thank you,’ Maya said, backing away.

Outside, she grabbed hold of Kay. ‘Come on, we’re going round the back.’