"You're being bloody stubborn!" Her mother had called her that once before, shortly followed by the words 'just like your father'. Safi thinks that might have been where it all began, though she knows it really wasn't. The beginning of something else maybe, the beginning of the curiosity surrounding him, but not the beginning of the silence. No, that started long before she'd understood its implications, the power that it held. She'd spent the last three weeks in silence. Something that wouldn't have worried her mother had it been Safi's teacher that voiced the concern. Only this time Safi had shut her out too. Broken the unspoken bond between mother and daughter; that their home, wherever that may be, was a safe place.
Her mother had installed an alarm system, or rather had one installed. Though when the purple van pulled up outside, Safi's mother pulled the blinds and refused to answer the door. She'd phoned the company back, using her telephone voice and her fake name. Later that week a different van appeared. He'd been allowed in, but Safi had not been allowed downstairs. She'd listened to her mother's lies from behind her bedroom door, and she'd not been surprised by a single one. My husband's away. Army. He insists, feels like we're safer with a camera. Safi can see her in her mind, spinning the fake wedding band. Hand poised to pull out the fake photo, the one she'd genuinely believed was her father until she was 6. She hears the door click closed and her mother calls "Safi, come on. You'll be late."
Her mother smoothed Safi's blonde curls behind one ear, cupping her cheek in her hand. Their eyes met and her mother leaned to kiss her daughter's cheek.
"I'm sorry" her mother's pleading whisper, as she pulled her daughter into a tight embrace, every morning since the incident. Since she'd shouted at Safi, stood over her with anger in her eyes and her words. She'd found the handwritten notes, in neat cursive. The questions that Safi had asked, and the answers that Izzie had given. Safi had tried to explain, but her mother wasn't hearing it. So she'd chosen silence, and her mother heard that loud and clear.
Though Safi had tried to keep the promise she'd made her mother, it became harder each day. Izzie hadn't got the message from the first radio silence, and she had a similar streak of stubbornness running through her blood - she wasn't just going to give up on the new girl. On her second day, Izzie had slipped a note into Safi's hand as they walked in line to assembly. I've lived in Manchester all my life. Where are you from? She hadn't been brave enough to answer then, but she'd cherished the note, and the feeling that flooded her. Other kids would have given up, but not Izzie Charles. There was another note the next day, and the day after, and the day after that.
I like your blue bow. Where did you get it?
My favourite colour is green. What's yours?
I've got crisps for snack, wanna share?
The last note she'd loved, it required pure movement as a response, there was no pressure. Safi caught Izzie's eye along the class line, and nodded her head, a wide smile forming on both girls faces. When playtime came around Izzie hooked her arm into Safi's. "I've told them to leave us alone," Izzie nodded to the group of girls Safi had seen her with that first day, "told them you're shy." Safi's eyes widened, and her pace slowed. Izzie took another step before turning to face the blonde girl. "S'okay" she pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled. The two girls perched on the playground wall, backs to the road and feet swinging. Salt and Vinegar crisps lay on the shiny foil paper between them. Izzie talked a mile a minute, and Safi sat in silence, just listening. The same scenario played out for another week before Safi responded to another note.
I live with just my mum too. My dad lives in a van. Where's your dad live?
This time she'd braved a written answer. Her own cursive shaky beneath Izzie's perfect loops. I don't know. I've never met him. She wrote, but a single thought echoed inside her head as she handed the crumpled paper back to Izzie.
"I think my mother brought me back to Manchester to find him" the words tumbled from her lips before she had chance to stop them.