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Chapter twelve

The police

I walked slowly around my flat.

‘Who got in and took my things?’ I thought. ‘Only George and Harriet have keys. It couldn’t be George. He loves me. But someone came into my flat while I was away.’ I began to feel afraid. I called the police. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t know what else to do.

A policewoman came to see me.

‘Does anyone have a key?’ she asked.

‘Only my best friend, Harriet, and George. Harriet’s away and George is my boyfriend.’

‘Have you been with him long?’

‘About two months.’

‘Where did you meet?’ she asked me.

‘At work.’

‘Does he work with you?’ she asked.

‘No.’

‘So what does he do?’

‘He’s an asylum seeker. He’s waiting for lawyers to tell him he can stay in this country.’

‘So he needs papers to work here?’ she asked.

‘Yes, but he’s going to get the papers soon.’

‘Is your passport here? Let’s go and see please.’

We looked in the cupboard where I kept my passport. It wasn’t there.

‘Do you have any idea where your boyfriend is?’ asked the policewoman. ‘We need to talk to him.’

I opened my mouth then closed it again.

I didn’t want the police to find George. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t know where he is. We saw each other every day before I went to Scotland. But he wasn’t here when I got back.’

‘OK,’ said the policewoman. ‘Well, if you see him, please phone us.’

‘Of course,’ I said. And she left.

The rest of that day I waited. I waited all day for George to call, but he didn’t. I tried calling him but there was no answer.