“I’ve no idea. Neither do you. You said it yourself, Simon: I’ve been with those girls at Orchid House. I’ve heard their stories. I’ve seen their fears. So I say this: if two parents have to be inconvenienced because they won’t agree to speak to someone with Bolu’s interests at heart—”
“Bolu?” Simon asked the question.
His sharp emphasis was infuriating. Clearly, Deborah thought, he’d spent far too much time at the Old Bailey being questioned by barristers during trial. “Bolu,” she said. “That’s her name. That’s what she’s called. They just said it on the television news. My saying it means nothing beyond my saying it. Stop trying to read between the lines where there are no lines, for God’s bloody sake.”
She left them then. She’d lost her appetite for breakfast. But it seemed that neither of them was finished with her. Her father stopped her on her way up the stairs to tell her that he was concerned with “tha’ sweet little girl” as he called her, but he was also concerned with how the sweet little girl’s father would be feeling and what he would be thinking because he kept imagining what he himself would think and what he himself would feel if Deborah went missing. “Half mad with worry, is what tha’ bloke is,” was her father’s conclusion.
As for Simon, it turned out that his concern was the fallout: what it could do to all of them if she knew something and did not reveal it. “You’re placing us on the wrong side of the law if you keep silent.”
“I’m not placing anyone anywhere,” she countered. “And what law is involved? I don’t know where she is. All I know is that she’s at risk.”
“The girl is being kept from her parents. The police are searching for her.”
“Instead of what they could be doing.”
“Which is what?”
“Stopping the abuse of girls. Which is more important than harassing a woman who’s committed her life to their protection.”
So she’d parted from them—Simon and her father—without any of them feeling at peace with what was going on. For the two of them, there seemed to be only one resolution: to discover who was holding Bolu and to hand that person over to the police. But connected to that were a score of scenarios that Deborah didn’t want to consider.
ISLE OF DOGS
EAST LONDON
Deborah decided to stop at Trinity Green on her way to the Isle of Dogs. She wasn’t at ease after her argument with her husband, and she concluded the only way to become at ease was to learn the truth behind what had prompted two adolescents to escort Bolu Akin to Orchid House. She had no hope of Zawadi’s confiding in her. But she reckoned Narissa might.
She found the filmmaker inside the chapel reviewing some footage she’d taken to be used during periods of voice-over narration in the documentary. Seeing Deborah entering their filming space, she said, “I can’t tell if this works. Are you willing to give me your honest opinion?”
“Will you believe it’s honest?” Deborah asked her.
Narissa considered this. After a moment, she said, “That’s an interesting question. It forces me to decide if you’re a patronising white cow, doesn’t it?”
“I hadn’t thought about it in quite those terms, but yes. I suppose it does.”
Narissa nodded, gave Deborah a head-to-toe-to-head, and said, “I’ll risk it.”
She’d filmed four sites so far, Deborah saw: an adventure playground, a street market, a group of uniformed schoolgirls, and St. Thomas’ Hospital. After she’d watched the footage of each, Deborah said, “The market and the girls, I think. The other two, no.”
“Not the playground?”
“It doesn’t seem to work. Do you think it does?”
Narissa looked at the screen for a moment before she said, “My dad—”
Deborah interrupted with, “He’d be a much better judge, Narissa.”
“—said the same thing.” She glanced at Deborah. “You might be good at this.”
“It’s just a photography thing. I couldn’t tell you why something works. It’s just how it feels.”
Narissa nodded. “Wouldn’t I love to get back to that.”
“What?”
“The way to . . . It’s just that . . . never mind.”
“I ‘wouldn’t understand’？”
“That’s the size of it, yeah.”
Deborah nodded. She said, “Right,” and reckoned her next best step was to say nothing more on the subject.