Freddie grabbed her bag from behind the desk, not caring that she sent papers and a mug spinning to the floor as she went. Saunders had his arms crossed, watching her as if she might be about to nick a laptop or something. She stopped in front of Chips. He looked pale, his face sagged, like he was in shock. ‘Thanks for nothing,’ she said.
She eyeballed Saunders as she walked out. ‘Cock,’ she said, loud enough so they both heard it, and slammed the door behind her. The walls vibrated, and she ploughed straight into the back of Nas. The impact seemed to spur Nas into motion and she started away, picking up speed down the corridor, her coat flung over her arm. ‘Nas, wait. We need to go back in there. They can’t do this.’ Could they speak to Burgone? He probably wouldn’t be thrilled at their little lapse in honesty either. ‘We can’t walk away now!’ But Nas didn’t stop, she burst through a door next to the lift. The stairs. Shit. Freddie started to jog to catch up.
She could hear Nas’s heels clicking down the concrete stairs at speed. What was this? The fire exit? ‘What’s wrong with the lift?’ Nas didn’t reply. She could see her pulling on her coat, the tails fanning behind her. ‘You need to make them understand that you’re the link. That you’re the one who connects Chloe and Lottie,’ she shouted. Freddie thought of the anger in Saunders’s eyes. From the first moment she’d seen him she’d known he didn’t like Nas. He wanted her out of the way. Should Nas have just told her colleagues that she knew Chloe’s family from the beginning? Would it have made any difference? It was difficult to untangle the pointless police protocol from what was truly dicey. Nas wouldn’t do anything that might risk Lottie’s life. Would she?
Freddie had never had to question any of this, any of Nas’s behaviour, before. It had been Nas who’d confronted Chips when he got in the van with Liam. Nas who had immediately told the rest of the team what they’d found out from interviewing William. Nas was the one who always did things by the book. The sound of her heels was getting further away. She had to decide: whose side was she on? She thought of Lottie’s petrified eyes, Saunders’s angry stance, Chips’s gormless shock … Fuck it. She started running down the stairs. Light shone through the distorted windows, strobing as she tried to catch up. ‘Can you just stop a second?’
There was a noise below and she craned to see Nas disappear through a door. Fuck. She jumped the last few steps, pushing open the fire door into the car park. ‘Where are you going?’
Nasreen was walking across the expanse. She turned, and Freddie saw for the first time that she had something in her hand. Keys.
‘Romeland High.’ Nas pressed the fob and a navy car beeped into life.
Freddie was so shocked she stopped. ‘The school?’
‘I want to talk to Mrs Wilshire, find out if she knows who Alex Black is. She’s our best shot.’ She opened the driver’s door.
‘I didn’t know you could drive.’ Freddie ran the last few metres and let herself into the passenger seat. ‘Is this your car?’
‘No, it’s a pool car.’ Nas fiddled with the ignition and adjusted her seat and mirror.
‘Right,’ Freddie nodded. She couldn’t believe she was going to say this. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’
Nas turned to look at her. ‘I may very well have lost my job, Freddie.’
Freddie saw the pain on her friend’s face, reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.
Nas shook her off. ‘But I’m not losing Lottie: I owe Jack that much.’ She started the car.
‘Seriously, I can’t believe you never said you could drive?’
A smile flickered across Nas’s lips. She pulled a pair of black boots from her handbag and replaced her high, spiked heels. Better. She stopped the car as they reached the barrier to exit the car park and turned to look at Freddie again. Nas’s mascara had smudged under her right eye. Just a small amount, but enough to tell Freddie she’d been crying on the way down the stairs. ‘You heard what DI Saunders said.’
‘He’s a prick.’
‘He’s my boss. And he’s suspended me. I’ve already compromised myself, but you don’t have to do this.’
Freddie almost laughed. It was absurd: the rebel Nasreen. How had they got here?
Nas took a big breath. ‘I won’t blame you if you choose to walk away.’
‘I can’t just forget Lottie.’ It was ten past seven. The thought of the girl out there in danger, the clock ticking …
‘You’re sure?’ Nasreen said. Her eyes searched Freddie’s face, looking for what: fear? Freddie was shit scared, but that didn’t mean she was about to abandon her friend. She nodded.
‘Good,’ said Nas, but she didn’t look pleased. Determination coloured her face. She edged the car forwards and the barrier lifted. And then they were out on the street, driving away from Westminster, from London. Driving towards St Albans. Instinctively Freddie reached for her phone, gripping it like a comforter in her hand.