Read Online To Tell the Truth by Anna Smith - Free Book Online

seemed to be at ease around the child. How different their lives were, though they were similar ages. He wondered what it must be like tobe easy with people, to be with a family, eating together in the evenings and sitting by the fire. Of course he’d seen it in pictures and on television, but it was alien to him. There was no point in being close to anything or anybody. You could get by in life without all that. Even for sex. You could just do it and feel the rush inside you when you let all the tension go. But you didn’t have to lie around touching the woman, because who knows what that would make you feel. You’d want them to be with you all the time, and maybe they wouldn’t come back and you’d be left on your own – like the old days, before the crying stopped.
    Besmir could see the skyline of Tangiers in the distance, apartment blocks stacked close close under the shimmering heat of the late afternoon sun. He was glad the girl was asleep again, but it wouldn’t be for long; as they came closer to the town, the noise of the horns and traffic began building up. He fidgeted in his seat, feeling hot and tired. The driver turned around as though sensing his discomfort.
    ‘Not long now. Just few minutes.’
    The fat man sat up straight in his seat and half turned to Besmir.
    ‘I been told that when we get to the place, you take the girl in and then you go,’ he said. ‘Your job finish.’ He jerked his thumb towards the driver. ‘He drive you to the harbour and you can take a boat back to Spain.’ He opened, the window, hawked and spat.
    Besmir leaned forward. ‘When Leka gets the call fromthe man I am delivering to, then I will go. When Leka calls me.’
    The fat man shrugged. ‘Leka? I do not know him. My boss is Moroccan.’
    ‘No.’ Besmir talked close to his ear. ‘You may not know Leka, but he will know you. He will know who you are and where to find you. He will know everything about everyone involved in this. That is how Leka works.’
    ‘Should I be frightened of this man Leka?’ The fat man was sarcastic, more confident now that he was deep in his own turf.
    ‘Yes,’ Besmir said. ‘You should be afraid. Very afraid.’ He sat back in the seat and looked out of the window as they continued the rest of the journey in silence.
    The girl woke up as they snaked their way through the tight backstreets. Somewhere amid the crowded apartment blocks and buildings, the Muslim call to prayer rose up into the cloudless sky. Besmir smiled at the girl and lifted her onto his lap, surprising himself at how natural it felt. She started crying again, and he tried to shush her, but she was calling for her mother.
    ‘Look, look,’ Besmir said, trying to distract her by pointing to things outside in the busy street. He wiped her tears with the palm of his hand.
    ‘We are here,’ the driver said, pulling into a little cobbled street.
    They got out of the car and Besmir lifted the girl into his arms. She wrapped her arms so tightly around his neck she almost choked him. The driver lifted the puppy and gestured for them to follow him and the fat manalong the cloistered sidestreet and across a maze of narrow alleyways until they finally came to a two-storey white building with a massive metal door. The fat man knocked twice.
    Besmir stood, his face like flint, steadying himself for whatever was behind the door. It opened slowly and the fat man went in, followed by the driver who nodded to Besmir to come. Inside the massive hall the mosaic tiles on the floor and the walls were like an explosion of colour. The air was heavy with the smell of spices and cigarette smoke. A middle-aged woman wearing a flowing kaftan, with a pashmina covering her head, emerged from a corridor and looked at the fat man, then at Besmir. She smiled.
    ‘The girl,’ she said, her heavily made-up eyes bright. She went towards Besmir with her arms outstretched.
    ‘What a pretty girl. Does she have a name?’ Her perfume wafted with her