‘But that’s theft.’
‘He has stolen two decades of your life.’
‘What kind of shelter?’
‘It’s for families like us and women like you; wives from the Indian community who’ve spent their whole lives being controlled by their husbands; women who are sick of being beaten and bullied and treated like dogs, and who need help in starting afresh.’
‘But … but …’ Shabana hadn’t known how to respond. For so many years, she had fantasised about escaping Vihaan. Nine years had passed since her last proper attempt when she had made plans to travel from their home in Leicester to Newcastle where a distant cousin lived. Mrs Patel, who ran the local supermarket, had been aiding her. Only when Mrs Patel’s husband had discovered the National Express coach tickets his wife had been hiding for Shabana and her children, he’d felt duty-bound to tell Vihaan of her plans. Her punishment had been a beating so severe that she still couldn’t place her full weight on her right ankle.
Since that day, her only hope was that an early death might rid the world of Vihaan. He smoked a pack of high-tar cigarettes a day and his fatty diet meant he was at least twenty kilos overweight. It could only be a matter of time before his heart gave out. Sometimes she fantasised watching him collapse on the kitchen floor, clutching his arm and chest and begging her to get help. ‘I can’t,’ she would tell him. ‘I only speak Bengali. You wouldn’t allow me to learn English, remember?’
‘Mum,’ Reyansh had said, bringing her back to the present. He’d taken his mother’s hands within his own. ‘This is what you want, isn’t it? The opportunity to get you all away from him? Because it’s actually happening now.’
‘When he gets home, he will come after us and find us and he will kill us. I know how vindictive your father is when he is pushed.’
‘No, he won’t because he can’t. I met with the women who run the shelter and explained your situation and they told me that when you were ready, you are welcome there. It’s completely anonymous; no one will ever know where you are. I spoke to them again on my way here – they can take all of you in this morning. There are beds waiting for you. And they’ve put me in touch with a solicitor who works closely with them. She will see you now to organise a restraining order against Dad. Everything is in place and ready. All we need is you and the girls.’
‘But what about you? Where will you go?’
‘I’ve only got a few months until I start uni. I can sofa surf until then. I’ve been lucky – being kicked out because my dad thinks being gay is worse than being dead was the best thing he could’ve done for me. Mum, the world is beautiful beyond these walls if you give it a chance.’
‘Your lawyer friend, does she know I don’t speak English?’
‘Yes, and she says for you not to worry; she’s seen it many times before. She wants to help you.’
‘And you promise to look after the girls while I sit with her?’
‘Yes, of course I will.’
Without warning, a warmth had travelled quickly through Shabana’s veins infecting every part of her. Her nods had been barely perceptible until she’d pictured how different the future could be if she trusted her son and the people he had engaged to assist her. That they could want to help someone they didn’t know had humbled her. She’d looked Reyansh directly in the eye. ‘Help me get your sisters ready,’ she’d said with growing confidence.
Shabana had packed anything she might need for the next few days into two shopping bags, like clothes, underwear and toiletries. From her bedroom, she’d listened as Reyansh had organised his four siblings in the adjoining bedrooms. She was so proud of her only son; despite all he had learned about men by watching his father, he had still known it to be wrong. Instead, he had remained a kind, gentle and considerate soul. The name she had given him translated to ‘first ray of sunlight’, and now that was the gift he was giving to her – the chance to see a new day in a new light. She was ready to leave the shadows and join a world illuminated in a way she could barely remember.
As she’d heard the girls make their way downstairs, she’d said a small prayer for them. She had begun motherhood with the best of intentions and had wanted to teach them to be independent and not to allow anyone to control them. But aged fourteen and under, all they had known of her was a subservient, frightened woman. After growing up under that roof, she hoped it wasn’t too late for them to change their expectations of what a marriage could be. If they repeated her mistakes, it would not be their fault; it would be hers. And for that, she would never forgive herself.
With her bag packed, Shabana had hurried into the kitchen to grab a key, then made her way to the padlocked shed where she had never been allowed. She’d yanked containers from shelves and rifled through boxes and bags until she’d pulled out wad after wad of cash. She‘d been stunned by the sum. While she had been forced to micromanage a paltry food and clothing budget for a growing family, Vihaan had been sitting on thousands upon thousands of pounds. It had compounded her hatred for him.
After scooping the money into her pockets, she’d joined the rest of her family in the lounge Vihaan had taken as his own and banned them from. She’d begun to feel a strength she hadn’t realised was still inside her when she’d seen the girls with their school bags hanging from their shoulders, crammed with clothes, books and toys. Meanwhile, Reyansh had hovered nervously behind the thick net curtain, checking all was well outside, ready for their escape. For so long that curtain had hidden what had become of Shabana from the rest of the world. But not any longer. She’d yanked it from the runner until it fell into a heap on the floor. Finally, she was able to see from the window with clarity. ‘Let them look at me,’ she’d said defiantly.
As she’d kissed each one of her children’s cheeks in turn, the youngest two, Aditya and Krish, had begun to cry. Their mother had responded by giving them the tightest of embraces. ‘I will show you what it means to be happy,’ she’d whispered, before letting them go. Reyansh had escorted them from the front door and into one of the two driverless taxis parked outside. Then he’d assisted Shabana in placing her bags into the second vehicle parked behind it, programming the solicitor’s address into the GPS.
‘We’ll see you this afternoon,’ he’d replied and handed her a mobile phone before remembering she had never operated one before. ‘I’ll call you on this – press the green button to answer – then I’ll order your car to bring you to us.’
Shabana had wrapped her arms around her son and held him. ‘Thank you,’ she’d whispered before allowing him to leave.
It was the first time she had ever travelled inside a vehicle with no driver. But she’d trusted Reyansh when he’d assured her it would get her to where she needed to be of its own volition. Her only boy had not yet turned eighteen but he was the only man she trusted – not her father who had arranged her marriage to a man he knew to be violent or the brothers who almost beat to death a boyfriend she had from a lower caste back in India as a teenager.
Shabana had begun to allow herself to imagine where she might go now that she was free. A small council-owned flat would suffice, one with a radio and a television so she could watch films when the girls had gone to bed. Over the years, movies had become her only means of escape. Sometimes, when Vihaan was out and had forgotten to hide the television remote control, she’d watch an Indian channel and live vicariously through Bollywood’s greatest love stories. She’d become hypnotised by the beautiful girls with their flawless hair and bright, colourful clothing, dancing with a joy she had rarely known. It was as if they’d been blessed by a different God to the one she worshipped.
Shabana had looked at the map on the dashboard monitor as the car drove along roads she had only ever walked. She had grown used to the muscles in her arms burning as she made her way home laden down by the weight of heavy food bags.
Never again. Soon she could take a bus or a taxi or perhaps make a friend and go shopping with them. Thanks to Reyansh’s tenacity, a huge world of possibilities now lay ahead for her and her family. The four words that Vihaan had beaten out of her slowly began to creep back into her vocabulary.
I can do it, she told herself,I can do it.
Her inner voice was the last one Shabana heard before an English one appeared out of nowhere through the car’s speakers. It arrived so suddenly, it startled her. ‘What is happening?’ she asked aloud in her native tongue. Her eyes darted around the car’s interior. The voice continued to talk but there were only a few words here and there that she could understand. One of them sounded like ‘die’.
Suddenly the monitor switched on. The main screen was filled with much smaller screens and by other people in cars. None of them were smiling – they all looked afraid. She moved her head closer to it in the hope of seeing her son. But hers was the only familiar face.
