Elinor waited in the dining room with the men, as for the second time that night Leo went to answer the front door. The men had fallen silent as though they had somehow intuitively guessed the presence of British officialdom was about to enter their lives.
A deep, husky voice asked, ‘Leo Jago?’
‘Yes, that’s me, come in please.’
Elinor heard the individuals at the door come into the hallway.
‘So you say the men don’t speak English?’ the husky voice asked in a lowered tone.
‘Don’t seem to, as far as I can tell.’
‘And, just to get our facts right, they arrived soaking wet at your front door?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I’ve got their clothes drying in the tumble dryer. Should be nearly done by now.’
‘At what time exactly did they arrive here?’
‘At ten past three in the morning.’
A pause followed, as though this was all getting scribbled down.
‘OK. Would you mind taking us to them?’
All of them walked down the corridor to the dining room.
Leo came in first, as though to reassure the men around the dining table he was still there. Two individuals, in the distinctive black immigration enforcement uniform, followed him into the dining room. One was a burly man with a beard, who looked to be in his mid-fifties. Next to him stood a petite young lady, with her long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. In her hand she carried a small notebook.
‘This is my niece, Elinor, and these are the gentlemen who arrived unexpectedly, early this morning,’ Leo said.
‘Hello, Elinor,’ said the burly man, nodding at her. ‘I’m Steve Maitlin and this is my colleague, Laura Bissell.’
Elinor liked the look of Steve. His warm brown eyes twinkled at her and he had the jovial appearance of someone who was eternally an optimist.
Steve turned to take a better look at the six men around the table and they, in turn, looked back at him apprehensively.
‘We’ll have to take them to the centre and find a translator for them. Any idea what nationality they are?’
Leo and Elinor shook their heads.
Steve, looking unsurprised, sighed despondently.
‘Recently we’ve been finding more and more young men arriving in small boats,’ Laura explained patiently. ‘Many of them turn out to be Iranian, strangely enough. We actually think we’re only managing to catch a small percentage of them. There are simply not enough of us to patrol the entire UK coastline.’
Steve nodded in agreement.
‘There’s never been enough of us to fully patrol the main ports, let alone all the isolated bays and harbours around Britain. And at the moment it seems they’re going for the quieter entry points,’ he said.
‘But why on earth would anyone attempt to travel here on a night like this one?’ asked Leo, bemused.
‘No idea. It’s absolute madness...’ Steve rubbed his hair in frustration. ‘If it hadn’t been for the weather, they probably wouldn’t have ended up in your house. We suspect most of them have got local contacts to go to, once they arrive here. It’s easy enough for illegal immigrants to disappear, once they arrive undetected. The black market is huge in the UK and I’m sure in these parts a few Cornish farmers and fishermen won’t be immune from hiring cheap labour, no matter how illegal it is.’ Steve shrugged resignedly. ‘Everyone’s trying to survive, one way or another, including these poor fellows. That’s how the cycle goes.’
‘It’s insane to be out at sea on a night like this. I would even go so far as to say they’re lucky to be alive, actually. The ocean beside these cliffs has very strong currents, and it’s blowing a gale out there,’ said Leo.
Leo looked lost in thought for a minute, while the others glanced involuntarily at the men still sitting at the dining table.
‘I wonder where their boat ended up? It could well be smashed into a pulp by now. I’ll have a look around the coves once it’s daylight,’ Leo said. ‘I would’ve thought the south of Cornwall would’ve been easier for them to reach.’
‘Yes, but North Cornwall has had quite a reputation for smuggling in the past, hasn’t it?’ said Laura quietly. ‘You can see why. There are so many hidden coves around the coastline.’
Leo nodded in agreement.
‘What’ll happen to the men now?’ asked Elinor worriedly.
‘They’ll be fed and given a bed to sleep on,’ Steve said calmly. ‘We’ll have to monitor them until we figure out what their status is. We’ll get a translator for them. It’ll probably take quite a few weeks to sort out. They don’t appear to have any official paperwork on them, which isn’t going to make things any easier.’
‘They didn’t come with any paperwork, as far as I could tell,’ said Leo. ‘Maybe they left it all on the boat.’
‘We’ll find out a lot more within a day or two,’ said Steve, looking surreptitiously at his watch. ‘Right, I think it’s time we take these gentlemen off your premises and leave you in peace... You might want to give them their clothes back,’ he added, looking at the trousers the men were wearing which, because of their length, were concertinaed up their legs.
Leo went into the corridor and fetched the clothing from the dryer. When he came back through to the dining room, he let the men pick out their garments. One by one, they made their way to the bathroom to change back into their original clothing.
Eventually, all six men stood in a forlorn group by the front door. They waited patiently as the immigration officials said goodbye to Leo and Elinor.
Elinor felt terribly sorry for them. She didn’t approve of people trying to enter the country illegally but when confronted with the reality of these young men who’d undertaken a dangerous voyage to this country, all in the hope of securing a better life, she felt incredibly sad.