Chapter 2: Gang of Four

Grace couldn’t stop thinking about her mum’s terrible fake laugh.

She and her mum had been really close since her mum had kicked her dad out. Now it was the two of them, together in the world. Grace’s one remaining parent was her only rock amidst the shifting sands of different countries and homes and schools: her mum’s job was so specialised they just had to go where it took them.

Now there was this secret coming between them, and Grace didn’t like it. It was making her feel lonely and insecure, especially in yet another new foreign country where she hadn’t made many friends yet.

She liked it even less in the morning, when straight away Mohammad caught her in the corridor by her locker.

“Hey Grace! You look great this morning!” It was a little rehearsed. And he was making out they were huge friends.

“Thank you.” Somehow she couldn’t help herself smiling back at him, a bit, even though she didn’t want to. She looked into her locker to break his gaze, grabbed the book she needed and set off determinedly down the corridor.

“So what are you doing at break?” He was pursuing her shamelessly, walking alongside with his longer legs.

“I, errr...” She couldn’t think of anything!

“See you in Cafeteria 2?” He insisted. “Why not? Just for a coffee.”

“Okay,” she couldn’t think of an excuse. But luckily it wasn’t too far to her first class where he couldn’t follow.

Anyway at least she had Mia in her second class, and this time Grace got there first and kept a seat open; and Mia looked for her and walked elegantly across the front of the room to get to her. Grace could feel everyone’s eyes were on Mia, in a short denim jacket today, ironed jeans and boots, as she came and sat next to her. Mia’s fragrance enveloped Grace, like her presence.

“Hi,” Mia touched her arm. “It’s good to see you.”

This simple greeting was balm to Grace’s unsettled soul. “It’s good to see you too,” she smiled into Mia’s strong green eyes. Her hand moved to touch Mia’s arm in return. “Can you do coffee after?” It was too much like a plea, but Mia didn’t seem to notice, nodding straight away.

“Paul’s going to be there too.”

“I’ve got to meet Mohammad.” It came out like a confession.

“Oh?” Mia’s perfect eyebrows rose, but at that point the teacher came in, and in this school nobody whispered in class.

Going down the corridor at the end of the lesson Mia was curious: “So you HAVE to meet Mohammad?”

“Well, I said I would. I don’t know why ... well he asked, and ... yesterday he said something...”

“Said what?”

“I thought it was a joke, till my mum reacted all weird.”

“Weird?”

“When he found out my mum works at SES he said: ‘did I know anything about something that arrived’, and I joked: ‘oh from outer space’, and he didn’t get it he said: ‘like an experimental animal’, all serious...”

“Okay.”

“So I mentioned it to my mum, just as something funny, and she knew something but didn’t want to tell me...”

“She didn’t think it was funny?”

“She pretended to. It was the worst thing. She tried to, but it was fake ... And so ... she’s keeping it a secret, from me, and, you know, we don’t have any secrets...” It seemed worse now she’d said it out loud. Her eyes had gone moist and and her voice had wobbled, just a tiny bit.

“A secret would stop you being so close, naturally,” Mia’s strong, competent body nudged against Grace and without even meaning to Grace leaned back against her.

“I know,” she gulped.

Grace found herself being steered her into a classroom, which was empty during the break, and wrapped in a hug. The feel of it set Grace off and she sobbed a couple of times with her face buried inside Mia’s fragrant jacket, before she got hold of herself. “Sorry,” she drew back a few inches, “I’m not like this normally, it’s just, everything being new I suppose...”

“It’s okay,” Mia smiled down at her, “I understand. Your mum is important to you.” It was an enquiry.

“My dad’s in Canada. They split up. And we just moved from France.” It seemed like a long time since she’d had a real home, in England.

“Okay. So we have to discover this secret then, don’t we? So that your mum won’t have a secret from you. Anyway I don’t care to have Mohammad with this connection to you.”

“He’s not that bad,” said Grace instinctively.

“Of course he’s bad. He only wants to use you, anyone can see. He doesn’t know you at all but nevertheless he’s after you. It’s because you’re beautiful, and not too big, and have this perfect skin and look new here and unsure about everything. He thinks you’re vulnerable. He’ll use white girls then he’ll marry a Muslim like he obviously is himself, and SHE must be a virgin that he can have exclusively and own. My father has told me a lot. Promise me you will never go to a party with him or meet his friends or brothers or anything like that.”

“Okay I promise,” Grace smiled at the protectiveness as she dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue. Mia seemed to think it was normal, what had just happened. Well Mia could easily be almost a year older, and perhaps more of an early developer too. She certainly had a woman’s figure.

“Anyway we have to find out what he knows. It must be a secret someone is keeping from him too, or he wouldn’t need to ask.”

Grace savoured the ‘we’ as they went into the loo so she could rinse her face, then when she was more or less presentable - and glad she didn’t wear makeup to school yet - they went on to the cafeteria.

Uh-oh. Paul was sitting with two guys and a girl at one table, while Mohammad was sitting with a boy at another, four tables away almost on the other side of the room. Grace followed Mia down the counter to buy their coffees, wondering what to do. Everyone had noticed them, though Mohammad was pretending not to. She wasn’t wearing her childish stripey leggings today, just a knee-length skirt and grey leggings and her black cord jacket, but still guys snuck looks at her. Being with Mia, she supposed.

She’d agreed to meet Mohammad hadn’t she? That was the thought in her mind as she came away from the till. She veered towards Mohammad’s table, though he still wasn’t looking at her. His friend was, so it was a bit stupid.

“Grace, over here,” Mia called, loud enough for everyone to hear. She was standing at an empty table, not even near Mohammad’s. Smiling, as though Grace had made a mistake. Now Mohammad was looking at her. Shit.