MORNING SERIAL
‘JEN, you’re not making sense. He’s five. He’s probably playing somewhere. Camping out.’ They both know, from the tone of Ioan’s voice, that he’s wrong.
‘No, you don’t get it, Ioan. She’s been training him for this for years. He’s out there somewhere, playing something, yes. But it isn’t just camping. He thinks she isn’t coming home.’
The city is noisy. Even with the windows closed Helen can smell exhaust fumes, food, rain-soaked tarmac. The noise has crept up on her, become almost unbearable.
‘Stop the car, Maksim.’
‘We are nearly there, don’t worry.’ That grin. She could slap him.
‘Please, just find a quiet street and pull over.’ Her tone gives no option for discussion.
Maksim nods and swerves away from the main thoroughfare. The sound of horns blaring fades as they move towards a residential area, big houses set back from the road, architecture to die for. He pulls over near a small park. Helen can see people walking little dogs, pushing prams. It could be Manchester, Liverpool, anywhere.
She opens the door and gets out, sucking in the wet green air from the park. Walks away from the car. After a few moments Anton joins her, takes her hand.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘How do you feel?’ ‘Okay. Tired. Why?’
‘I just…’ She can’t explain, isn’t sure herself. If she questions it, she knows some deeply held belief will fissure. Over his shoulder she can see Maksim smiling, hoping to catch them kissing, maybe. She gently extracts her fingers from his hold, resets his drooping sling. ‘Can you walk a little?’
He nods. They go a little way into the park, away from the car. She has no idea what the Embassy will say when she walks in, how much trouble she’ll be in. They have decided she should say she was fleeing the protests, got lost, deny any knowledge of the Exclusion Zone and their route into Belarus.
> The Half Life of Snails by Philippa Holloway is Published by Parthian at £15