Then, the pub door opened and a group of five men walked in. Icy storm-grey eyes found her before her mind could catch up.
It felt like she was alive for the first time in a week. His eyes locked onto her haggard face instantly, narrowing slightly. For one suspended endless moment, they simply stared at each other across the crowded room. His expression held confusion first, then concern and anger. Even in one week, she seemed to have lost weight. She realized she was staring and quickly turned away, but not before everyone had seen the look in her face. The walls that had taken a lifetime to build were down and all that was left was rubble. Asha no longer had the reserve to hide the devastation.
James took a step toward her. Patrick moved directly into his path.
“It’s dead tonight anyway,” he said flatly to Mavis. “Time for an early close.”
James frowned.
“What?”
But Patrick only jerked his head to Asha meaningfully while ignoring him.
“We will manage. Take the boy and go home before you break any more glasses, girl.” Patrick grunted looking at Asha while blocking James's path.
Understanding flickered. Asha was already moving, she only thought of escaping. She untied her apron with clumsy shaking fingers and called for the boy.
By the time she had helped the boy with his coat and got her own one, James was trying to push past Patrick.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Bloody 'ell—”
“Not now, lad.” Patrick growled in the tone that usually sent his boys running for cover.
Asha heard none of the rest. She only knew she had to leave before she broke down completely. She grabbed the boy's hand and hurried into the street.
Behind her she vaguely heard shouting, then James’s voice cursing. She did not dare look back. She ran toward the bus stop with Tanay stumbling breathlessly beside her trying to keep up.
They boarded just before the doors closed with a rusty snap. Only once the bus jerked forward did she finally breathe.
Chapter 13
The bus rattled through the darkening streets. The slender woman and the boy leaned on each other as the windows fogged from all the damp clothes and the warm bodies packed together inside. Outside, the temperature had dropped to sub-zero. Someone mentioned snow.
The boy remained silent, sharing body warmth. It was not the peaceful quiet of a sleepy child. This had become the new normal with her usually cheerful child and it worried her more and more these days.
Asha stared blindly at the passing lights for several moments before reaching slowly into her coat pocket. The folded paper inside crackled softly as she drew it out.
Tanay glanced over automatically.
“What’s that, Amma?”
She unfolded it carefully across both their laps.
It was an old and creased map of Britain. She had bought it over a year ago in London while she planned her escape. Today morning, she had slipped it into her pocket.
Immediately his apathy disappeared like smoke. Children could never resist maps.
His eyes widened slightly as he bent forward.
“What is this for, Amma?”
More and more, it was 'Amma' now and not 'Mummy' or 'Mum' anymore. Asha traced a finger across the paper slowly until the tip rested on Wakefield.
“We have lived here a while now,” she said hesitantly. “How would you feel about moving somewhere else? We can be two explorers. Like David Livingstone.”
