By Lillian Bradbury
“You wouldn’t believe some of the things going on here. Quaint, sleepy Pickering… Don’t you believe it! Past and present, there’s more to this area than roaming the moors, visiting castle ruins and dodging film crews in the railway station.”
Polly’s words were still buzzing in my head as I spent the next few days rearranging the front bedroom of my cottage into an office; planning a tourist route through the town and making lists of potential assistants I may need.
Today, I’m sitting with my laptop researching “Tour Guides.” My phone rings. It’s Polly.
“Mia, our new recruit has gone A.W.O.L. I’m getting a bit worried about her, Rowena. She’s not been in the country long and seemed so keen, but she’s not even answering her phone.”
“Have you got her address? I could pop in and check on her if you like?”
Mia’s flat was on the first floor. A blue ceramic planter stood by the door, filled with a strange succulent, sprouting a raspberry-coloured flower. I knocked a few times.
“Hello. Hellooo,” I called through the letterbox.
Not a sound but the smell of coffee; strong coffee.
“Hello again, I’m just calling to see if you’re OK. I’ve come from seeing Polly… your boss?”
Nothing.
Walking away from the building, I sent a text to Polly, then turned round to glimpse a figure peering round the curtain of the flat I had visited. It disappeared in a flash.
You can’t help some people.
Back at my laptop with tea and crumpets, I managed to get through a whole year following the adventures of Tour Guide: Tobias Turner-Wells, until it was starting to get dark. There was a knock on the door. Polly stood shivering, covered in a dusting of snow.
“I’ve had to ring the police, Rowena… about Mia.”
Pulling her in out of the cold seemed the best thing to do in the circumstances. The wind was howling, enough to whip up drifts if it persisted overnight, and besides, my old cottage soon lost heat through open doors.
“A guy came into the office looking for her. I asked him his name and all I got was, ‘This is not relevant.’ He sounded maybe Eastern European. Shifty, wanting to know where Mia was. I think he has something to do with her not coming in to work.”
Thinking of the figure hiding behind the curtain, it could have been fear.
“How did you leave it with him… did he say he was coming back?”
“Yep! Just like old Arnie… you know; ‘I’ll be back’… the Terminator?”
“The thing is, if he knows where she works, he’ll soon find out where she lives.”
“What did the police say?”
“They sent an officer to take her details.”
“Who is she, what do you know about her, Polly?”
“She lives on her own. Early twenties, been here for about six months… perfect English. Well-educated…”
“Hang on… Where’s she from? Let me guess, Eastern Europe?”
“Syria. She came as a refugee.”
“I’ll go and check on her again and if she doesn’t answer, I’ll text you.”
The raspberry-coloured flower had been plucked off and pushed into the letterbox.
He’d found her!
“Mia, it’s me again. Sorry it’s late but Polly’s really worried about you; she’s called the police.”
The sound of furniture being dragged away from behind the door made me wonder what I was going to be faced with; a battered young woman needing help? An angry woman wielding a knife? Or HIM!
Instead, the door opened to reveal a studious-looking girl, wearing large round spectacles and pink checked pyjamas. She didn’t look too scared, nor was she holding a bread knife.
“I owe Polly an explanation, and you,” she said. “Come in.”
“What’s going on with all the furniture stuff?” I asked, sitting alongside her on the sofa. “Is someone trying to get in? Because there’s been a man at the council office asking for you.”
“That’s Kalim. He’s a fellow countryman, trying to recruit me to go back. But I’m ready for him.”
I watched as she reached down her side of the sofa and pulled out a bread knife.
“At night when I sleep, I need protection,” she said, pointing to the stack of furniture. “He could drug me in my sleep and arrange for my travels back.”
I couldn’t decide if she was deranged and paranoid or if there really were such things going on.
“I don’t think that we should wait for the police, we should ring them right now! You can’t live like this.”
“No! No police.” She shoved her hand down the side of the sofa.
“OK. That’s fine.”
I was clutching the scarf around my neck so tight I was almost choking.
“Why don’t you stay the night at my cottage and we’ll decide what to do in the morning?”
Can you hear yourself, Rowena? Are you signing your own death warrant here?
Morning.
“He’s here! It’s him. He’s here!”
My mobile screen was glowing. A message from Polly at 9 a.m.
“Keep him there, I’m coming over.”
Mia was still asleep, so I left her a note. Just gone to get bread.
Despite his intimidating size, Kalim was respectful in his greeting and removed his woollen trilby.
“I need your help, ladies. Mia is vulnerable. She needs companionship of her own people. I am here to collect her and introduce her to possible family, all living north of here.”
“Haven’t you heard? Sir?” He looked at me puzzled. “Mia has found family here… yes! In this little market town AND she’s joining the police force, starting as a special constable while she trains.”
“She might have been vulnerable when you knew her, but now she has so many friends and family, acquaintances in high places; in politics too. We wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up as our Prime Minister one day. Don’t you agree, Polly?”
“Oh sorry,” I feigned a shocked gasp and covered my mouth with a clenched fist, “official secrets and stuff. I haven’t got you in trouble have I, Councillor?”
Polly collapsed into my arms.
“I can’t believe you just did that, Rowena. Look, I’m still shaking.”
When I got back, Mia was up and dressed, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea.
“Oops… forgot the bread. Did you sleep well?”
“Thank you so much, for everything. I slept like a tree.”
“A log, Mia. You slept like a log. I got a call from Polly. Kalim turned up at the office again, so I went to see him.”
Mia jumped up, her eyes wide with fear.
“You couldn’t keep hiding, Mia. He was a bad man. And the only place he was recruiting you to, was a place where you could be controlled. Humph! And he thought you wouldn’t be missed! He won’t be bothering you again. Come on, let’s get back to your flat, and you can get ready for work.”
“Mia?”
“What?”
“Do you speak Arabic?”
To be continued…
© 2024 Lillian Bradbury
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“Rowena Draper” by Lillian Bradbury is a gripping mystery-thriller set in Pickering, uncovering secrets, danger, and an unexpected bond between women fighting for safety and survival.
