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Authors: Lesley Lokko

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BOOK: One Secret Summer
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There was a row of red telephone boxes just outside the station. She moved slowly towards them, as if in a trance. The one
farthest away from her was empty. She pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside. The booth smelled of urine – a sour,
unpleasant scent that made her want to gag. She picked up the receiver and listened to the unfamiliar tone. She pulled the
change out of her pocket. After the packet of crisps she’d bought that afternoon for lunch, she had £2.12. Could she afford
a pound for a phone call? She stood looking at the paltry collection of coins in her hand. No. She had no idea where her next
meal was coming from. She couldn’t spend a pound just to hear her mother’s voice. She pushed open the door and stepped out.
She took a deep breath of the fresh air and put a hand up to her wet cheek. It was 3 p.m. and the light was already beginning
to fade. She had nowhere to sleep that night. Her fingers were numb with cold – in her haste to
escape from Hamid and Fathia, she’d forgotten to take her gloves. She blew on her hands to try and keep them warm. She felt
dizzy with hunger. Aside from her usual egg and four slices of toast, she’d had nothing to eat all day save for the packet
of crisps. Her mind was racing, desperately seeking an answer. What was she going to do?

She walked slowly back to the station. She saw the sign for the toilets; she made her way through the crowd and walked downstairs.
She was in luck; there was no attendant. She pushed open the door to the farthest cubicle and locked it behind her. Fortunately,
the toilets were of the old-fashioned kind – the doors went all the way to the ground. With any luck, no one would disturb
her. She propped her bag against the wall, undid her shoes and tucked her feet under her. Within minutes, despite the comings
and goings around her, she was fast asleep.

She woke before dawn. Her neck was stiff and her back was aching but she’d more or less slept through the night. She got to
her feet and unlocked the door. There was no one about. The toilets were bathed in a greenish neon light; it felt like a deserted
hospital ward. She walked over to the sinks and turned on the tap. Lukewarm water spilled over her hands. She washed herself
quickly and brushed her teeth. She’d survived a week-long car journey through the Ogaden Plains – she could survive this.
She wet her hair and used her hands to scrape it back into a bun. She thought longingly of the money she’d spent on accommodation
when she’d first arrived … she ought to have done exactly what she was doing now. That way she’d have been able to feed herself
for almost a month. She looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised by what she saw. She’d no idea how or why, but she’d
lost the hunted, desperate look of the previous day. Her face was clearer somehow. There was a determination in it that reminded
her of the old Niela Aden, the person she’d been when the family fled, not the person she’d since become. She washed and rinsed
out her underwear, rolling it into a damp ball and tucking it into her bag. She would find a dry patch of grass
somewhere later on in the day. She took one last look at the public toilets that had been her home for the night and quickly
walked upstairs. The station was beginning to stir; it was just after 5.30 a.m. on a cold winter’s morning, she had nowhere
to live and no money, but she was no longer afraid. She would find a job that day if it killed her.

‘Address?’ The girl behind the desk barely looked up.

‘Eighty-four Vauxhall Bridge Road.’ Niela’s voice was steady.

‘And you’ve worked in an office before, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK. I’ve got something for you on Gillingham Street. Sarafin’s. They’re a contracting firm. They’re looking for general office
help. Photocopying, filing, the odd bit of typing, sorting out the post. When can you start? Now? They’re desperate.’

‘Yes … yes, of course.’ Niela struggled to keep her voice level.

‘Great. Ask for Anna. She’s Mr Delaney’s secretary. She’ll show you what to do.’

‘Th … thank you.’

‘Any problems, give me a ring. Who’s next?’

And that was it. Niela got to her feet, still slightly dazed, and walked out of the office. She looked up at the sign again.
Key Employment Agency. She would remember it for the rest of her life.

‘Hi, I’m Niela. From the agency … I’m looking for Anna.’ Niela stood in front of the receptionist, clutching the piece of
paper she’d been given, still unable to believe her luck. Two hours after walking out of the station, she had a job.

‘Over there by the window. Girl with the glasses.’

‘Thanks.’ She walked over to where the girl had indicated. ‘Are you Anna?’ she asked.

‘Yes, that’s me. You’re from the agency?’ Anna looked up.

Niela nodded. ‘I’m Niela.’

‘Great. Our last temp walked out yesterday. Follow me.’
Anna stood up. She led Niela down a corridor to a tiny room with a photocopy and fax machine. There was an enormous stack
of documents balanced precariously on a chair. ‘Sorry about the room. We’ll be moving the machines into the main office in
a couple of weeks’ time, but in the meantime, I’ve got to put you in here. It’s a bit gloomy but at least you can work in
peace. No one ever comes in here, not even the security guards. The assignment’s only for a couple of weeks. I’m sure you’ll
manage. Right.’ She pointed to the large stack of documents on the desk. ‘We’ve got to get these out by this afternoon. About
three hundred letters in total. You need to make two copies of each, put one in an envelope – there’s the list of names –
and then take them to the post office before five p.m. and put the copy on my desk. D’you think you can manage that?’

Manage? Niela stared at her. She’d have done twice that if that was what it took. ‘Of course. No problem at all.’

‘Fantastic. OK. I’ll see you later. Any questions, just ask. Lunch is at one. I’ll show you where the canteen is. There’s
a coffee machine at the far end of the office … just help yourself to whatever you want. Oh, and there’s a bathroom just here.’
She pointed to the door at the far corner of the room.

Niela nodded but didn’t trust herself to speak. She’d had nothing to eat since lunchtime the previous day and her stomach
was growling with need. The door closed behind Anna and she was alone.

At four thirty that afternoon, she lugged two large sacks of letters to the post office. There was a long queue, and by the
time she got back to the office, it was almost deserted. Anna had gone home; there was a note propped up on her desk addressed
to Niela. She opened it. It was a list of things to be done the following morning. She slipped the note into her pocket and
walked down the corridor to the photocopy room. She pushed open the door. There was no one about. She looked around the small
room quickly, an idea beginning to dawn. It was warmer than the toilets at Victoria. No one would come in, Anna had
said, not even the security guards. There was a toilet with a small sink; a cushion on one of the chairs that she could use
as a pillow of sorts. She could wash her underwear and her shirt in the sink and leave them to dry … it was far from perfect,
but in the circumstances, it would do.

She opened the door cautiously and walked down the corridor towards the main office. There were biscuits in the tin under
the sink and as much tea and coffee as she wanted. She carried her cup of milky sweet tea back to her cubbyhole. There were
a few people still left in the office, working late. No one looked up as she passed. She closed the door behind her, dragged
a chair over to it and wedged it under the handle, just in case. She drank her tea and ate the entire packet of chocolate
biscuits. She sat on the floor, her arms locked around her knees, waiting for the office to close down, when she could lay
herself down and go to sleep.

25

‘Don’t you want to get some lunch?’ Anna stuck her head round the door. ‘It’s half past one and you haven’t had a break.’

Niela felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She shook her head. It was Thursday. She’d been at Sarafin’s for a week; payday was
the following day. ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘I had a big breakfast.’

Anna looked at her for a second longer than was necessary. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked suddenly.

Niela felt her knees give way. It was the kindness that did it. She could take just about anything, but not kindness. It floored
her. ‘I … I …’ To her horror, she felt her eyes welling with tears. She looked away. ‘I’m fine,’ she said in a low voice.
‘Sorry.’

Anna hesitated, then came into the room, shutting the door carefully behind her. ‘Look, Niela … this is probably none of my
business, but I have to ask. Do you have somewhere to stay? To sleep, I mean?’

Niela kept her head averted. To her horror and embarrassment, she felt the tears begin to slide down her cheeks. She opened
her mouth to say something – anything – but the words refused to come.

Anna was silent for a few moments. ‘One of the security guards told me,’ she said finally, her voice soft. ‘He saw you coming
out of here very early yesterday morning.’

‘It’s only until tomorrow,’ Niela said, her heart racing with fear. She would be sacked on the spot. ‘I just … I ran out of
money and I …’

‘Why on earth didn’t you say something?’ Anna asked. She put a hand on Niela’s arm. ‘Look, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.
I’ve been in worse situations before, trust me.’

‘You?’ Niela couldn’t help herself. Anna was the epitome of everything Niela wasn’t – smart, well dressed, well fed … she
looked
comfortable
, in all senses of the word. A nice, comfortably off English girl. The sort of girl Niela had been once and would have given
her right arm to be again.

Anna looked at her for a moment and hesitated. ‘Look, Niela … I’m not what you probably think. I’m from Bosnia, actually.
My real name isn’t even Anna. It’s Amra. I came here six years ago as a refugee, with nothing. Absolutely nothing. So I
do
know what it’s like. You get paid by the agency tomorrow, right?’ Niela nodded, not trusting herself to speak. ‘OK. Look,
come down to the canteen with me. I’ll buy you lunch. Don’t worry, you can pay me back some other time. And I’ve got an idea
… meet me out the back at five tonight. I think we can sort something out.’ She paused. ‘Don’t worry. This is just temporary,
Niela. You’re a really good worker, everyone says so. It’s nice having you around. Come on, dry your eyes and wash your face.
I bet you haven’t eaten properly in days. I remember what that was like.’ Niela could only stare
at her. ‘Come on, then. Let’s go.’ Anna turned and smiled at her.

It was hard not to wolf down the baked potato with tuna fish and sweetcorn. After ten days of living on nothing but sweet
tea, biscuits and stale white bread, even the smell of food made Niela nauseous. She finished the potato in minutes. Anna
had the good grace not to comment, but simply got up, went to the counter and brought over another one. ‘Not the most nutritious
of meals,’ she said wryly, putting the plate down in front of Niela. ‘But it probably beats whatever you’ve been living on.’

‘Th … thank you,’ Niela stammered, her mouth flooding with saliva at the sight of her plate. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. Look, I’d better get going. I’ve got tons of stuff to do for Delaney before he gets back
this afternoon. Here’s a fiver. You can pay me back later. Get yourself an orange juice and something sweet … you need some
energy. I’ve got an idea about where you can stay. Let’s go together after work.’

Niela watched Anna thread her way through the tables. She looked down at the five-pound note Anna had just given her and suddenly
made a vow. She would never spend it. She would keep that five-pound note for the rest of her life. She didn’t need anything
sweet to restore her energy. Anna’s kindness had done that all on its own. She tucked the note into the back pocket of her
trousers and then quickly went about the business of polishing off what remained on her plate.

Niela looked around her in bewilderment. The flat was small and completely empty but it was brand new. Anna strode ahead of
her, turning on the lights and taps. ‘Everything works,’ she said, coming back into the main room. ‘No furniture, but we can
find you a mattress. I’ll ask the foreman to bring one up from the stores.’

‘Wh … whose place is this?’ Niela asked, almost afraid to look around.

‘No one’s. At least, not yet. It’s part of the Horseferry Road development – the big one that we’ve been working on for about
a year. The last phase of flats won’t be ready until the summer, so that gives you about five months or so. Don’t worry, it’s
fine. No one will ever figure it out.’

‘Anna … how … how can I ever repay you?’ Niela asked, afraid she might burst into tears again. ‘You’ve been so kind … I don’t
know why.’

Anna shook her head. ‘Lots of people helped
me
out when I came over. Lots of people ripped me off, too,’ she added with a smile. ‘But I try not to remember those bits.
Anyhow, I’d better run. I’ll speak to the foreman on the way out and get him to bring up a mattress. Here’s the keys. That
one’s for the front door and this one’s the side gate. Use that one all the time. The project managers don’t even know there’s
an entrance there.’

‘Th-thank you,’ Niela stammered, taking the bunch from her. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘I’ll bring you a clean shirt and a skirt tomorrow to the office. You can’t wear the same clothes every single day. Oh, and
you’ll need a sheet and a towel. I’ll bring those too. There’s a launderette on the corner and a grocery store just down the
road.’ She paused. ‘You’ll be fine, Niela. Don’t worry. Things will work out. You’ll see.’ She gave her a quick smile and
opened the door. ‘See you tomorrow,’ she said, and then she was gone.

Niela looked about her slowly. It was a one-bedroom flat on the first floor, overlooking a central courtyard. Everything was
brand new – carpets, paint, blinds, everything. There was the overpowering smell of fresh paint everywhere. She opened the
door to the bedroom. The walls were a creamy yellow; the carpet was dark grey. It was absolutely spotless. She walked into
the en suite bathroom, blinded by the brand-new whiteness. She turned on one of the taps – a lovely, heavy chrome affair with
a long, elegant spout. Within seconds, steam began to rise. She turned it off, her excitement mounting. She hadn’t had a proper
wash in almost a fortnight. As soon as she got paid, she promised herself, she would cross the road to the bank, cash her
cheque
and then buy a bottle of shampoo. Her hair hadn’t been washed in weeks. Suddenly, she heard a noise on the other side of the
front door. She froze. Something was being dragged along the ground. It stopped outside the door. She heard a man cough and
then the sound of his footsteps dying away. She waited for a few minutes and then cautiously opened the door. Standing propped
against the wall was a mattress. She felt weak with relief. She pulled it in, shut the door behind her and dragged it into
the bedroom. She quickly stripped off her clothes, turned on the taps in the shower and stood under the powerful hot stream
of water for almost twenty minutes. She’d brought along a bar of soap from the office and she soaped herself over and over
again until the bar was little more than a sliver. She stepped out, pools of water forming immediately around her feet, and
used her shirt in place of a towel. She washed her underwear and the shirt and hung them on the towel rack, which was warm
to the touch. She looked at her reflection in the mirror as if to check that it was really true, that she was really there,
in a brand-new flat somewhere in London, less than a fortnight after her arrival. Best of all, she’d be there for a while.
She lay down on the mattress, burrowing her head into its soft, doughy warmth. How could she ever repay Anna for her kindness?
What had she done to deserve it? She lay in the dark, her mind turning over with questions. Christian too – he had helped
her when she least expected it. She would return the hundred Deutschmarks just as soon as she could. It was a temporary loan
– just enough for her to get back on her feet. She thought of his face, the way his eyes folded at the corners when he smiled,
and of the soft brown hair on his forearms. She closed her eyes. Perhaps the world wasn’t quite as bad a place as it sometimes
seemed. She slept.

BOOK: One Secret Summer
12.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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