Half the World Away

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

I wake to the swip swip swip of the sparrow on the corner of the guttering. Swip swip swip. Nick’s side of the bed is empty. Even after my sleep, I feel tired.

Lori is still in bed; the boys are glued to games on their tablets. There’s no sign of Benji so I assume that Nick has taken him for a walk. After I’ve eaten, I run Lori a bath, throw in handfuls of salt, to help with the sores, which are almost healed.

Isabelle arrives just after Nick has got back and says she wants to talk to Lori too, about what happens now. Lori is still in the bath so I call her and we fill in the time with coffee and harmless chat about China, the cultural differences, the language barrier. It’s a grey day, the breeze pushing clouds overhead. Still – the air is clear.

When Lori comes downstairs she accepts the offer of tea and scrambled eggs.

‘You’ve been through a terrible experience,’ Isabelle says to Lori, ‘but you’re here, you’re a survivor, and people want to hear about that.’ Lori doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t react.

‘The last thing anyone wants to do is put any additional pressure on you,’ Isabelle says. ‘My job is to make sure that this happens at a pace you’re comfortable with, that you don’t do anything you don’t want to do. People want to know about your abduction and about your rescue, but while legal proceedings are under way, my advice is not to discuss that. So, we issue a general statement for now, quotes from all of you, and we release a photograph of you as a family, but we do not go into any details about evidence that may be used in a court case. We wait until the trial is concluded and then we grant exclusives. There’s a great deal of human interest in the story.’

It’s not a story, I want to say. This is real. It really happened. My daughter was tied up and starved; she was kept naked and drugged and raped. She was hosed down when she was sick. She nearly died.

‘What do you mean “exclusives?” ’ Nick says. ‘Like, just one newspaper?’

‘That’s an example but there are several platforms to consider,’ Isabelle says. ‘We could be looking at TV, a documentary, say, women’s magazines as well as the papers, even a book.’

‘A book?’ I’m appalled by the idea.

‘It’s a powerful story. There are ghost-writers and non-fiction writers who have substantial experience of this type of project.’

‘Why on earth would we want to see a book about it?’ I say.

‘Apart from the huge public interest, there is the question of money,’ Isabelle says.

‘Money?’ I say.

‘We’d be expecting fees with any of these ventures. If my understanding is right, Lori won’t be entitled to any criminal compensation, given that the crimes were committed overseas. And the aftermath of an experience like this can be costly, medical bills, loss of earnings. It may be some time before Lori is back at work.’

‘This is all too soon.’ I get to my feet.

‘It’s OK,’ Lori says.

‘Nothing happens now,’ Isabelle says, ‘apart from the statement and the photo, if you agree to that. Nothing else is done until the legal side of things is concluded. That will likely be months away. But you need to know your options and I would strongly recommend that you brief me with exploring the route of exclusives.’

‘What if we do nothing?’ I say.

‘You will probably be pestered by the media, some of whom can be unpleasantly intrusive and persistent.’ She looks at Nick. ‘There have already been people coming to the house, ringing up?’

He nods.

‘You all saw the mob at the airport yesterday,’ she says. ‘This strategy will be a way to contain and manage the public interest.’

We don’t want reporters at the door.

‘Lori?’ I say.

‘Fine.’ She shrugs. Nick nods.

‘Good,’ Isabelle says. ‘I suggest we get the photograph done today. I’ll show you the draft statement and get it finalized.’

‘Today?’ I say.

‘The sooner the better,’ she says.

Two hours later we are posing in front of a photographer. Furniture has been rearranged, special lights, hot and bright, erected, white reflector shields set on the floor and a nearby chair. The stylist has made suggestions for clothing and applied makeup to me. Lori balked at that and I backed her up.

It’s a parody of the family snapshot. Tom stands at one side of me, Nick at the other. Lori sits in front of Tom and me, the boys beside her.

The stylist wanted Tom in something smarter but he’s no clothes here. He’s unshaven too. She asked him if he’d like to shave but he said not, brooking no discussion.

‘You could brush your hair,’ Lori said. I lent him my brush.

Thank goodness we’re not required to smile, though Finn calls, ‘Cheese,’ the first couple of times, which punctures the tension and has us laughing. I think of all those Victorian portraits, their faces solemn, and wonder when it changed. When smiling came in. Was it due to some technical advance? When people no longer had to sit still for so long? Lori probably knows.

At last it is done. We read through Isabelle’s statement and she needs quotes from Tom, from Lori, from Nick and me. The things we come up with are honest enough but clichés too. The sort of thing anyone in our situation would think, would say.

You can’t imagine anything like this happening to someone you know. There really aren’t any words to describe what it’s like.

We were so lucky to find Lori just in time and the hospital was fantastic. We want to thank all the doctors and nurses there. And the people in Chengdu who helped us in the search for her.

Our thoughts are with the family of Bai Lijuan after their terrible loss.

I’d no idea people were looking for me. I didn’t know anything about the outside world. But I’d like to thank everyone who helped and most of all my mum and dad, who wouldn’t give up.

It was a complete nightmare but we had such excellent support from Missing Overseas and the Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

You’re living on adrenalin, this horrible mix of fear and hope, but you keep hoping… You have to keep hoping.

There’s a collective sigh of relief once Isabelle and her crew have gone. Tom sits with Lori in the front room for a while. We heat up some of Penny’s food. Tom joins us, and Isaac and Finn chatter through the meal. It’s a useful distraction.

‘I said I’d visit my folks this afternoon,’ Nick says.

‘Oh, no!’ I complain, not ready for more travel.

‘It’s OK, I said you’d be too tired,’ he says, ‘but I’ve not seen them for ages.’

‘We’re going to the museum,’ Finn says, ‘me and Mummy.’

I’m about to disagree, then think, Why not? I’m still feeling displaced – however I spend the rest of the day will be surreal. And Finn deserves some attention.

Lori looks anxious: her eyes dart between Tom and me.

‘I can stay here till you’re back,’ Tom says.

‘Yes!’ Isaac likes the idea.

There’s a flash of something, resentment or irritation, in Nick’s face but I say, ‘Good,’ and it’s sorted.

Fatigue, bone deep, hits me as I queue with Finn in the museum gift shop to buy his replacement rocket. He’s singing, off key as usual. It takes me a moment to recognize the Bowie song, ‘Space Oddity’, which the boys got to hear last year when astronaut Commander Hadfield released a version of it from the International Space Station.

On the bus home, it strikes me that I’m invisible again. No longer an object of interest, no longer different.

Lori has gone up to rest, Isaac is drawing in the living room and Tom is smoking in the garden when we arrive back.

Finn stares at Tom’s cigarette and pulls a face. But the desire to show off his rocket wins out, and Tom dutifully admires it.

‘How’s she been?’ I ask Tom, once we’re inside and Finn has gone to watch TV.

‘Very quiet,’ he says. He runs his hand through his hair. ‘I told her I’d call in every other day.’

‘OK.’

‘And I mentioned the GP,’ he says.

‘Yes, we’ll take her down tomorrow.’

My phone sounds a text message alert.

‘I’ll head off,’ Tom says.

‘OK. See you Tuesday.’

He smiles, that crooked grin, and my stomach flips over. I’m aware of the space between us, that we are alone in the room. I duck my head, stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans. He nods goodbye and leaves. We do not touch.

The text is from Nick. He’ll be back later, he’s going to eat with his parents.