One by one, he counts the bolts and bars sliding back. Five in total. Finally, the door opens.
‘Hi there,’ he passes the giant form of Ritchie Handsworth, the second SSOA agent stationed in the safe house.
‘Morning, sir.’ The agent shuts the door and locks and re-bolts it.
Madoc takes the uncarpeted stairs to the large back room. Zachra and her mother are sat watching TV, a rerun of an Oprah show about dealing with broken homes. Both are dressed in casual Western clothes. The younger woman turns and her face fills with delight. ‘Mr Madoc — I didn’t know you were coming.’
He smiles back at her and dips into the jacket of his black suit. ‘I’ve got something for you.’ He hands over an envelope and a separate folded sheet of paper.
Zachra takes them and gives him a suspicious stare. ‘What are these?’
‘Look for yourself.’ He adds the reassurance she needs. ‘It’s nothing bad.’
Her eyes sparkle as she rips open the envelope. ‘Momma, look. Plane tickets to London. A chance to start again.’
Madoc realizes he’s never seen her happy or relaxed before. He adds the more important detail. ‘You need to study the single sheet I gave you. It tells you your new identities, where your new home is and your new bank account. The house is a modest terrace on the outskirts of London, but you’ll be safe. It’s paid for and it’s yours for as long as you want. The bank account has ten thousand pounds in it. It should help resettle you while my people get you both jobs.’
Zachra throws her arms around him and kisses his cheek. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to us.’ She glances at her mother and then back at him. ‘You’ve given us both our lives back. It’s like being reborn.’
‘You’re very welcome. You’re an enormously brave and talented young woman, Zachra. If anyone deserves to be reborn it’s you.’
186
An FBI helicopter takes Mitzi the fifty miles from San Joaquin to John Muir.
It’s almost dawn when staff in the Neuroscience Intensive Care Unit lead her to where Jade is recovering.
A foot from the door and alongside a wall sign that says NO PHONES, hers rings. ‘Sorry. I need to take this.’
The two nurses drift back to their station.
‘Hello.’
‘This is Eleonora.’ She takes an emotional breath. ‘It’s your daughter—’
Mitzi puts her hand on the wall and feels faint. The pause is too long for it to be good news. She should never have left Amber’s bedside.
‘She has regained consciousness.’
‘What?’
‘She is awake and talking.’
‘Oh, my God.’ Mitzi slides down the wall and sits on the floor. The relief makes her heart hammer and tears flow. ‘How is she?’
Eleonora laughs. ‘How is she? She is like a little Mitzi, that’s how she is. She is already complaining about her clothes. You want to talk to her?’
‘Oh yes, yes please.’
‘I put her on.’
The phone becomes a swirl of crackles and clunks.
‘Mom.’
‘Baby.’
‘Mom, are you all right?’ Her voice is post-op raspy and drowsy.
‘I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. I’m visiting Jade and I’ll be back to see you soon.’
‘Is she okay?’
Mitzi gets to her feet and tries without luck to see through the bedroom window. ‘Yeah, I think so, baby.’
She picks up on her mom’s worry. ‘Jade will be okay. Jade’s a Fallon girl and like you said, Fallon women are winners, right?’
Mitzi feels a rush of pride. ‘Yeah, we are, baby. We’re winners.’
‘Mom…’
‘What, honey?’
‘Did you see the PJs they put me in?’
She laughs. ‘Yeah, I did.’
‘Yuuck!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll bring new ones.’ She hesitates. There’s a question eating a hole in her head. One she has to ask. ‘Can you feel your legs, honey? Is everything working?’
There’s a long pause.
Too long for Mitzi’s liking. ‘Amber, can you feel—’
‘Mom, stop nagging. I’m just wriggling my toes and checking like you asked. Yeah, I’m okay, but I really hurt a lot and I think I need to pee.’
Mitzi laughs again. ‘You go pee while I see your sister, then I’ll call you back. Deal?’
‘Deal. Oh, and Mom, pleeease don’t forget the PJs.’
Mitzi finishes the call and enters Jade’s room.
The curtains are closed and the place is cast in a grey shade that smells of antiseptic. Her good mood has gone. A nurse has tried to disguise the brutality of the head wound but there’s no hiding the swelling. The sight of it breaks Mitzi’s heart.
Over in the corner is a single wardrobe. Placed neatly outside it are the Prada trainers Jack got her. She remembers feeling bad when that ass-groping pig bought them. Now she’d do anything to see her walk in them again.
She moves slowly along the bed. Jade looks deathly pale. It’s so wrong that she’s this close to death. Her life was only beginning. She was becoming a beautiful young woman. Albeit a headstrong, outspoken, feisty, never-let-it-lie, always-right, never-back-down, pain-in-the-ass of a daughter, but still a beautiful young woman.
Mitzi sits on the bed and takes the teenager’s hand, just as she’d done with her sister barely an hour ago.
Jade’s fingers are cold. Her nails are painted with Pink Bliss. It’s not her colour, but Amber’s. They must have been getting on. Before the world stopped and everything turned into flies and hit God’s windshield.
She keeps hold of Jade’s hand. Presses it to her face. Rests her head on the bed. Keeps her skin and her daughter’s bound together. The last time it was like this was fourteen years ago in a maternity ward.
Mitzi closes her eyes and sees light pushing the curtains. Tiredness crashes in. The pains, stresses and strains all become too much for her. She dozes. The black tide that swims over her is healing and soothing, like a hot, dark bath.
Mitzi wakes with a jolt. Her face hurts. It feels like it’s been pricked or scratched. Almost as though Jade has clawed her cheek. She looks down. There’s blood on her daughter’s nails.
Mitzi sits up. She puts her hands to her face. There’s fresh blood on her fingertips. She tells herself she’s imagining it. It can’t have happened. She brushes hair from Jade’s face. ‘Baby, can you hear me?’
There’s no response. But there is something different about her.
‘Jade, it’s Mom. Can you hear me?’
There is something different about her. Mitzi just knows there is. She looks again at the blood on her own hand and on Jade’s fingers.
Her frown is back. Jade is frowning. Mitzi’s seen it a million times. There’s no mistaking that furrowed, sulky brow.
‘Nurse! Nurse!’ She almost screams the building down as she runs to the door. ‘Hel-fucking-lo! Are there no freaking nurses anywhere in this goddamned place?’
One appears at the far end of the corridor.
Mitzi rushes back inside.
Jade’s eyes are open. The tone on the monitor has changed. Her mouth moves.
Mitzi can’t hear anything. She rushes to her daughter’s bedside. ‘Sweetheart—’ She stops just inches away, scared that touching her might ruin the fragile recovery.
Jade speaks in a hoarse, slow voice. ‘Mom — please shut the fuck up — you’re embarrassing me.’
187