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Chapter 33

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Ellie’s spine tingled with nerves as she, Yusuf and Isaiah approached the circus. Gusts of wind whipped up her hair. Mammoth trees loomed around them, veined with mystery and knowledge. She met Yusuf’s eyes; so much rode on tonight.

The scent of caramelised peanuts drifted on the air towards them. From fifty metres away, she recognised Osman’s bulk balanced precariously on his stilts. Next to him, circus children zipped about on unicycles. The Ferris wheel shone with hundreds of fairy-lights, as if the performers refused to go gently into the night. The blue and bronze tent, too, had been embellished with streamers that danced in the wind.

Ellie dipped her hands into her bag and her fingers found her phone. She withdrew her hands, keeping them deliberately free in case they were surprised by Karl or his crew. She’d done her homework on him. He was a nasty piece of work, and they couldn’t afford to be complacent. Beside her, Yusuf’s jaw jutted out and his eyes scanned the park, looking for any sign of trouble.

“Half an hour until showtime,” he said. “If Karl is here, he could be anywhere. Are you sure you don’t want me to get Zul and Osman?”

Ellie shook her head. “No. The more people involved, the greater the chance that this spins out of control. Just stay close and be on the alert, both of you. Yusuf, you’re the bait. Isaiah, you be ready to call the bulls. My job’s to try and get him to spill on Silberling.”

Isaiah rolled his eyes. “As if the bulls would get here in time to stop anything.”

Yusuf shot him a warning glance.

“Okay, okay,” said Isaiah. “You know, sometimes I wonder who is worse, the ones who pretend they aren’t racist under their masks or the ones like Karl. It’s a relief to know what men are really thinking, to know the colours of their heart, not to have it all hidden away.”

They passed underneath a group of chestnut trees reaching out from an undergrowth of moss and flowering shrubs, casting a deep bay of shadow. Raised voices came from behind the stable block just beyond.

Yusuf’s features hardened and his mouth flattened into a straight line. “I’m going to check that out.”

“We stick together,” said Ellie.

They approached the stables with cautious movements, the sound of their footsteps absorbed by damp grass. Backed up against a brick wall stood Doris, her blue eyes troubled, her stance wide as if she were bracing herself. A short, muscular man had positioned himself too close for comfort.

Doris stumbled over her words. “It’s not migrants who put a strain on resources. The strain comes from increased life expectancy. What do you propose to do about that? Kill me? I’m old enough to put a strain on resources. None of this is the refugees’ fault.”

“God Almighty. Stop talking, bitch.” The man spat at Doris’s feet and she flinched.

Yusuf swore under his breath and darted to her side without waiting to consult his friends. “You stay away from her!”

Ellie bit the inside of her lip.

Next to her, Isaiah tensed.

Karl Klein.

Karl laughed and sized up his opponents. He reeked of beer. “I thought I’d have some fun while I waited for you. I tried to have some fun with one of the pretty dancers but she wasn’t having any of it, so I found the old lady. We’re only having a chat. I should have known this one would be a dirty sympathiser.”

“Doris?” said Yusuf. “Are you okay?”

“I’m so relieved you’re back,” said Doris, pale and disoriented. “Osman told me you were off at the demonstration. I’ve been worried. I’ve been out looking for you. Then this young man found me.”

Karl shifted his weight from one foot to another, itching for a fight. His lips curled back when he noticed Isaiah. “Oi, mulatto. How’s it hanging?” He chuckled. “The old lady’s been trying to convince me to go easy on you lot.” He swung to Ellie. “And you. What’s wrong with you? Your own kind not good enough? Do you have to go spouting that rubbish online? There’s no need to rile up support for these losers. We all know their shit show is about to close.”

“If you’re so sure, then why are you here tonight?” said Ellie.

“Yeah,” said Isaiah.

Karl thrust out his chest and snorted. “What, are we six years old now, trading infantile insults in a park?”

Ellie ignored him. “Your kind always needs someone to pick on. What next? People who are chronically ill, single mums?”

Behind Karl, Yusuf cupped an arm around Doris and led her away. The older woman let out a groan, and Karl whirled around.

“Where are you going? We’re not finished here,” he said with an ugly twist to his mouth.

“This is between me and you. Leave her out of it,” said Yusuf, urging Doris away.

A slow smile spread across Karl’s lips. “You both belong in a ditch.” He stepped forward, fist raised, and Doris whimpered.

Yusuf raised his forearm up to block any punches, but it didn’t matter anyway.

“My arm hurts,” said Doris, slurring her speech, as though opening her mouth widely took more energy than she could spare. She slid onto the floor before Yusuf could catch her, her breathing erratic.

Yusuf dropped to knees beside her. “Doris! Doris, what’s wrong?”

Her eyelids flickered shut. A clammy sheen covered her forehead and upper lip.

Yusuf checked her airways. “Doris, please!” He slapped her cheek, gently at first then with more force.

She remained motionless.

Yusuf crumpled over her, his face drained of all colour. He cradled her, whispering into her ear, kneading her fingers.

“Isaiah, call an ambulance!” said Ellie.

“Oh shit,” said Karl, taking off at a run.

Isaiah spoke into his mobile, his voice low and urgent.

Ellie grasped Yusuf by the shoulders, shaking him. “Move, Yusuf. She needs CPR. She needs it now.”

He staggered away, curling his arms over his head as if he were a child.

Ellie’s hands quivered as she pulled Doris's legs so she lay flat on the lawn. The older woman’s trousers had travelled up one leg and she had grass in her hair.

Ellie turned to Yusuf. “Follow Karl. He can’t get away with this. Follow him!” She heard the pounding of Yusuf’s footfalls as she started CPR, hoping that her memory of First Aid training would suffice. She placed the heel of her hand on Doris's chest, wincing as she pressed down, deeper than seemed natural, compressing Doris's chest, feeling her warmth, the slackness of her skin. One–two–three... She counted until she reached thirty then tilted the older woman’s head and pinched her nose before blowing into her mouth. A second rescue breath brought tears to her eyes.

Isaiah knelt down next to them, his brown eyes pools of sorrow. “They’re on their way.”

Ellie nodded. Doris's life was in her hands.

Yusuf might not admit it, but anyone could see how close the two had become. Doris had been a mother to him; Ellie couldn’t fail either of them.

Doris's chest rose and Ellie started the compressions again, willing help to come.