foster carer with that name asked if you were staying with me.’
Zeena looked puzzled but not shocked.
‘Could you have been followed home here?’ I asked, trying to hide my concern.
‘No, I’m constantly checking behind me,’ she said.
‘Have you told anyone you’re staying with me?’ I asked.
‘No,’ she said.
‘Not even your friends at school?’
‘I haven’t told anyone,’ Zeena said, and then hesitated.
‘Yes, go on,’ I encouraged. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I can guess what has happened,’ she said evenly.
I now expected to hear the worst: that she’d accidentally let slip she was coming to live with me and this had somehow been passed on. However, what she told me was far more incredible.
‘When I told my best friend at school I was going to ask to come into care she was very worried. She said my family would be furious and they’d track me down through the Asian network and find me, which I knew was true. That’s why I asked for a white carer.’
‘Yes, I remember you saying something similar when you first arrived. Did you tell your friend you were here?’
‘No. I told her I was going to ask for a white carer. I had to; she was so worried about me. But I haven’t told her your name or where you live. It wasn’t fair on her to tell her, because her parents were sure to ask her if she knew where I was. They know my family. They all know each other. It would have been difficult for her to lie to her parents. I couldn’t ask her to do that.’
‘Yes?’ I prompted.
‘Well, her aunty lives next door to a foster carer who is Asian,’ Zeena continued. ‘I remember her aunty telling us about her when we visited her once, ages ago. I don’t know the neighbour’s name, but I bet it’s Parvin. She won’t know I’m here, but she’ll have been asked to find out which carer has me and to pass the information back to my family. That’s how it works with us.’
I stared at her with a mixture of awe and astonishment. ‘But how did your best friend’s aunty know you were in care?’
Zeena gave a small shrug. ‘Easy, really. My friend will have told her mother when she asked her, and she would have mentioned it to her sister (my friend’s aunty), who would have asked her neighbour. Because it was put out by my parents that I’d run away and was in danger, they’d all think they were doing right in helping to find me. Girls don’t run away in our community. It brings shame and dishonour, not only on the family but on the whole community. If they do run away they don’t stay lost for long.’
A chill ran down my spine. I could see now how it had happened and I was really worried – far more than Zeena appeared to be. ‘Norma suggested you go to a safe house out of the area,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think that’s a good idea?’
‘I’d rather stay here and be with my friends,’ Zeena said sadly. ‘I’ve lost my family; I don’t want to lose my friends as well. If I go to a safe house I’ll be all alone. What sort of life would I have?’
I could see her point, although I was no less worried.
‘You told that woman, Mrs Parvin, that I wasn’t here,’ Zeena said. ‘So she doesn’t know. I’ll be OK. I’m probably safer here now than I was before. They’ll be looking somewhere else for me.’ Which had a certain logic to it; as long as she wasn’t spotted.
‘I’m still very concerned that someone could see you coming in or leaving the house,’ I said. ‘Or follow you home.’
‘My friends wait with me at the bus stop at the end of school,’ she said. ‘And when I get off in the high street here I make sure I’m not followed. I suppose I could always start wearing a full veil.’ For a moment I thought she was serious, then her expression gave way to a very small smile. ‘That would really draw attention to me!’ she said. ‘I’m only joking.’
I smiled too. Zeena was a lovely child and it was pitiful that she had to be so fearful, and
Zeena looked puzzled but not shocked.
‘Could you have been followed home here?’ I asked, trying to hide my concern.
‘No, I’m constantly checking behind me,’ she said.
‘Have you told anyone you’re staying with me?’ I asked.
‘No,’ she said.
‘Not even your friends at school?’
‘I haven’t told anyone,’ Zeena said, and then hesitated.
‘Yes, go on,’ I encouraged. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I can guess what has happened,’ she said evenly.
I now expected to hear the worst: that she’d accidentally let slip she was coming to live with me and this had somehow been passed on. However, what she told me was far more incredible.
‘When I told my best friend at school I was going to ask to come into care she was very worried. She said my family would be furious and they’d track me down through the Asian network and find me, which I knew was true. That’s why I asked for a white carer.’
‘Yes, I remember you saying something similar when you first arrived. Did you tell your friend you were here?’
‘No. I told her I was going to ask for a white carer. I had to; she was so worried about me. But I haven’t told her your name or where you live. It wasn’t fair on her to tell her, because her parents were sure to ask her if she knew where I was. They know my family. They all know each other. It would have been difficult for her to lie to her parents. I couldn’t ask her to do that.’
‘Yes?’ I prompted.
‘Well, her aunty lives next door to a foster carer who is Asian,’ Zeena continued. ‘I remember her aunty telling us about her when we visited her once, ages ago. I don’t know the neighbour’s name, but I bet it’s Parvin. She won’t know I’m here, but she’ll have been asked to find out which carer has me and to pass the information back to my family. That’s how it works with us.’
I stared at her with a mixture of awe and astonishment. ‘But how did your best friend’s aunty know you were in care?’
Zeena gave a small shrug. ‘Easy, really. My friend will have told her mother when she asked her, and she would have mentioned it to her sister (my friend’s aunty), who would have asked her neighbour. Because it was put out by my parents that I’d run away and was in danger, they’d all think they were doing right in helping to find me. Girls don’t run away in our community. It brings shame and dishonour, not only on the family but on the whole community. If they do run away they don’t stay lost for long.’
A chill ran down my spine. I could see now how it had happened and I was really worried – far more than Zeena appeared to be. ‘Norma suggested you go to a safe house out of the area,’ I said. ‘Don’t you think that’s a good idea?’
‘I’d rather stay here and be with my friends,’ Zeena said sadly. ‘I’ve lost my family; I don’t want to lose my friends as well. If I go to a safe house I’ll be all alone. What sort of life would I have?’
I could see her point, although I was no less worried.
‘You told that woman, Mrs Parvin, that I wasn’t here,’ Zeena said. ‘So she doesn’t know. I’ll be OK. I’m probably safer here now than I was before. They’ll be looking somewhere else for me.’ Which had a certain logic to it; as long as she wasn’t spotted.
‘I’m still very concerned that someone could see you coming in or leaving the house,’ I said. ‘Or follow you home.’
‘My friends wait with me at the bus stop at the end of school,’ she said. ‘And when I get off in the high street here I make sure I’m not followed. I suppose I could always start wearing a full veil.’ For a moment I thought she was serious, then her expression gave way to a very small smile. ‘That would really draw attention to me!’ she said. ‘I’m only joking.’
I smiled too. Zeena was a lovely child and it was pitiful that she had to be so fearful, and
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