33 West Read online

  ‘My mother used to say a day would come when women would be more free,’ she said, her eyes were bright with longing. ‘We used to dress up together and sometimes she would let me use her makeup. But if we went outside our home we had to be sure no one could see us. Until I came here, no one outside my family and closest girlfriends had even seen my hair.’

  It was way beyond Max’s comprehension. He searched for something sensitive and intelligent to say and reckoned he did pretty well under the circumstances.

  ‘Your hair is beautiful. And anyway, this is your home now,’ he said pulling her closer.

  To his delight, she didn’t duck away. It wasn’t a full on snog, but the kiss was sweet all the same. They drew back and he bit through the label on the hat and rearranged it on her head.

  ‘Next stop, Fairfield Halls,’ he announced. ‘They have some pretty naff stuff on there but sometimes there’s good bands too. I’ve spotted some really famous people coming in for rehearsals and that.’

  As if in confirmation, no sooner had they arrived in front of the imposing theatre than Max saw a familiar figure heading towards them from a cab.

  ‘Shit! That’s Jools Holland! Quick.’

  Once again, Ishraqi found herself running to keep up with him as he headed straight for the man striding across the pavement to the theatre. Five minutes later, they were both clutching the napkins they’d taken from Subway, now emblazoned with her first ever celebrity autograph.

  Just as Max was trying to decide how he could possibly top that, his mobile rang. He squinted at the screen and didn’t recognise the number.

  ‘Is it Alexsa?’ Ishraqi asked the disappointment evident in her voice.

  It was. Apparently Ishraqi would be seen shortly. They had ten minutes to get back to the Borders Agency.

  Alexsa watched the young couple walking towards her, arm in arm. Their heads were close together and they were laughing. Ishraqi was wearing a new hat, which really suited her. Max must have bought it for her. It had been a risk but she was glad she had gone with her instincts and decided to trust them both. They seemed to have bonded and had a good time. Alexsa knew the girl was blocking on the possibilities of what might happen at her appointment and she wanted her to have a day she could remember. Just in case…

  She had tried many times to explain to her young client about the problems that stemmed from when she had first entered the country. Ishraqi’s uncle had pulled some strings and paid for forged papers that said she had a place at a college and was eligible for a student visa. There was no such place of course, but the family had been desperate. Her uncle told Ishraqi that once she was safely in the UK, she should contact a refugee centre he had heard about.

  That was how the two women had first met, Ishraqi having used a public phone to call the number she’d been given. By a lucky coincidence, Alexsa had been at the airport that day on another case. The switchboard operator called her and she had met up with the young refugee. Back at the office with a Farsi interpreter, she remembered how her heart had sunk as Ishraqi explained how she’d entered the country.

  Alexsa had tried then to explain the implications. If only Ishraqi had declared she was seeking asylum as soon as she’d arrived, things would have been so much easier. They managed to find the girl a place to live and get her enrolled in a school but her status was in jeopardy. As far as the government was concerned, Ishraqi had committed a criminal offence by entering the country under false pretences. Her application for asylum had been turned down, as had her appeal. Alexsa was attempting to make a special appeal on humanitarian grounds that the girl’s life could be at risk if she was forcibly returned to Iran.

  The timing was bad though. With an election coming up, the government were desperate to demonstrate how hard they were on failed asylum seekers, which is how Ishraqi was currently classified. After several years’ experience, Alexsa knew things could go badly wrong at this appointment and her chest tightened as she watched the laughing couple walk towards her.

  ‘C’mon,’ she said, masking her anxiety with a tight smile. ‘You will be called in a few minutes. We need to go inside.’

  Max said he’d wait for them but just as they were about to go, he called them back on impulse and asked Alexsa to take a photo on his mobile. He snuggled up to Ishraqi on the same low wall where they had first met a few hours earlier.

  Alexsa clicked the shutter. Max turned to Ishraqi and kissed her for the second time. This time the kiss lasted a little longer and he pulled back with a reluctant pout.

  ‘We have to go now,’ Alexsa insisted, twitching from foot to foot.

  Max waved goodbye and then hunched over his mobile to text all his friends to tell them that, while they’d spent the day sweating over Maths assessments, he’d had a really cool time with a new girlfriend. Feeling smug, he pressed ‘send’ and then settled back for a smoke while he waited for the others to return.

  Nearly two hours later, the lights in offices, shops and on the streets were winking on. The buses and trams were filling with rush hour commuters. Max’s stomach growled and he wondered what his mum would be cooking for tea. His tutor would probably have phoned her to say he hadn’t been in, so he’d have to negotiate his way through that. He thought about Ishraqi not knowing if her parents were alive or dead and resolved not to argue with his mum for once. It must be hard for her since his dad buggered off, coping with her own feelings as well as his. She only wanted what was best for him and he knew he wasn’t exactly easy either.

  Half an hour later, he texted his mum and said he would be home a bit late but would be starving when he got there.

  Half an hour after that, he was getting cold. He jumped up from the wall and paced round in circles, blowing on his fingers, and wishing his jeans weren’t too tight for him to put his hands in his pockets to keep warm.

  Ten minutes later, he tried phoning Alexsa, but the call went straight to voicemail.

  Fifteen minutes after that, he saw Alexsa walking out of the glass doors. She was alone, her eyes red, her feet dragging as if she was reluctant to leave. Max ran over, his heart pounding.

  ‘Where…?’

  Alexsa shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Max,’ she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. ‘They’re deporting her. They took her out the back entrance. She’s already on her way to Tinsley House.’

  ‘Where…?’ Max said again, as though that was the only word he had access to.

  ‘It’s an Immigration Removal Centre near Gatwick,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry, Max. I didn’t expect this myself. I thought we might still have a chance …’

  ‘But…but…she’s got GCSEs next week …’

  Even as he said the words, he realised how stupid they made him sound. But he didn’t care. It was wrong. It was just wrong.

  ‘Where will they send her?’ he asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

  ‘Back to Iran.’

  She squeezed his shoulder, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, took one for herself and gave one to him. Barely aware of what he was doing, he leaned forward for the light and took a deep drag.

  ‘Iran?’ he breathed. ‘Alexsa – her life could be at risk there. Surely if they knew that they wouldn’t…’

  He broke off at the pain in the woman’s eyes.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Max.’

  ‘There has to be something we can do! She’s still in the country. I’ll organise a protest on Facebook. I’ll get people involved. I know! We could contact Jools Holland. I bet he’d help. We can stop this, Alexsa, we can … We must!’

  Alexsa put her arms round Max’s thin shoulders and hugged him. He didn’t care that he was crying or that people might be watching. He didn’t care …

  ‘Go home, Max,’ Alexsa told him. ‘Go home to your mother. Work hard. Take your exams. And know always how lucky you are.’

  When Max arrived home late, his mother took one look at his face and bit off the angry lecture she had been preparing. Instead, she fo
lded her son in her arms and waited for the time he would be ready to talk to her.

  Index of Contributors

  CATHERINE HETHERINGTON

  Catherine Hetherington, a psychologist by background has previously written for academic journals and is now working for an energy company. This is her first foray into creative writing.

  DAISY GOODWIN

  Daisy Goodwin is a TV producer and writer. She writes regularly for the Sunday Times and her first novel My Last Duchess has been published by Headline Review.

  daisygoodwin.co.uk

  DEBI ALPER

  Debi Alper is the author of the Nirvana series of thrillers set in SE London. The first two, Nirvana Bites and Trading Tatiana, have been published by Orion. She also works as a freelance editor and mentor and hosts creative writing classes.

  debialper.co.uk

  JEMMA WAYNE

  An author, playwright and journalist. After graduating from Cambridge University in 2002, she began her career as a reporter before seeing the publication of her first non-fiction book, Bare Necessities, in 2005. While continuing to work as a freelance journalist, in 2009 her first stage play, Negative Space, opened to critical acclaim.

  jemmawayne.com

  JESSICA RUSTON

  Jessica Ruston was born in 1977. She is the author of Luxury, published by Headline Review, and two non fiction books. She came to Wimbledon to attend the School of Art at the age of 19, and ended up staying.

  jessicaruston.com

  JONATHAN GREEN

  Jonathan Green has written for such diverse properties as Fighting Fantasy, Games Workshop, Sonic the Hedgehog, Doctor Who, Star Wars and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He is also the creator of the popular steampunk Pax Britannia line, published by Abaddon Books.

  jonathangreenauthor.blogspot.com

  MELANIE MCGEE

  Mel McGee writes stuff and things. She is 5’ 3” tall. She has lived in Wandsworth Town for the past 10 years and she has no intention of leaving. Mainly because she is in love with her hairdresser, Leanne (not in a sexy sexy way).

  NEIL RAMSORRUN

  Neil Ramsorrun was born in 1979, and after 5 years or so of writer’s block, began his literary career with a gold star from Miss Green for the short story ‘When I grow up, I want to be a vet’. Neil now runs a social enterprise in Camden working with young people and creative technology. He is allergic to most animals.

  neilramsorrun.com

  NICOLA MONAGHAN

  Nicola Monaghan’s debut novel The Killing Jar was published in 2006 to critical acclaim and went on to win a Betty Trask, the Authors’ Club First Novel Award and the Waverton Good Read. She has since published a second book Starfishing and The Okinawa Dragon, a novella, as well as a number of stories and articles in anthologies and magazines.

  nicolamonaghan.co.uk

  NIKESH SHUKLA

  Nikesh Shukla is a London-based author and poet who has played in America, India, Kenya and nationwide across the UK. He is resident poet for the BBC Asian Network.

  nikeshshukla.wordpress.com

  PATRICK BINDING

  Patrick Binding. Birmingham born. Manchester schooled. Lost in Asia. Found in Melbourne. Earning his keep as an Educational Consultant and keeping his nose outta trouble learning about the world and running marathons.

  RACHAEL DUNLOP

  Rachael Dunlop is a writer of short stories and the blog Butterflies. She was the winner of the NYC Midnight Creative Writing Championships in 2009 and is herself a fierce champion of all short fiction forms.

  rachaeldunlop.blogspot.com

  RAJINDER KAUR

  Rajinder Kaur loves to write comedy stories about Punjabi life. She is also partial to chocolate and cats.

  TENA ŠTIVIČIĆ

  Tena Štivičić was born in Zagreb, Croatia. Her award winning plays Can’t escape Sundays; Perceval; Psssst; Two of Us; Goldoni Terminus; Fragile; Fireflies; Seven Days in Zagreb have been performed and produced across Europe and translated to more than ten languages. Her book of columns The Countdown has made the top of non-fiction charts in Croatia. Tena lives in London and writes in English and Croatian.

  TIM SCOTT

  Tim Scott appeared on Radio 4 in the comedy series And Now In Colour, and The Skivers. He directed and starred in the surreal ITV comedy series Dare to Believe and has written a number of children’s books as well as two science fiction novels. In 2003 he won a BAFTA for writing and directing the ITV children’s programme Ripley and Scuff.

  TOM BROMLEY

  Tom Bromley is an editor and author of nine previous books. His latest book, All in the Best Possible Taste, published by Simon and Schuster.

  WILL MAXTED

  Will Maxted came to London, and his Notting Hill bedsit, amid a riot which was not his fault. He has since met and married the love of his life, and has two lovely children and some rabbits which make a mess. Most recently burgled in Paddington.

  About Glasshouse Books

  Glasshouse books has a simple mission statement:

  To publish books for people who don’t read.

  Certainly this is open to interpretation. To clarify it means we’re trying to reach people who can read, but choose not to read books, be it because they don’t have the time, or they don’t know what to read, or publishers aren’t publishing books to cater to their tastes.

  Each of our titles focusses on a different area of the market, from helping young people make their first steps into professional life, to celebrating the richness and diversity of London. Uniquely we commission every title we publish.

  As part of our remit to reach more readers, we make versions of our titles available to read exclusively on our website:

  glasshousebooks.co.uk

  In 2010, we published 5 titles, each one beautifully designed, printed to respect the environment and featuring many exciting debuts.

  Books for me, you, everyone.

  Our titles: 100, Boys & Girls, Bloody Vampires, 33 East and 33 West

  How to order

  Please email [email protected] or call 020 7001 1177. Alternatively, you can buy online at glasshousebooks.co.uk.

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  Me. You. Everyone.

  glasshousebooks.co.uk

  Copyright

  Design by Eren Butler

  Edited by Bobby Nayyar and Charlotte Judet

  Assisted by Kate Du Vivier

  Typeset in Arno Pro & Champagne & Limousines

  First published 14. 07. 2010

  Updated 07. 01. 2011

  © Glasshouse Books 2010

  The moral rights of the authors has been asserted.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form.

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