Finding Sophie: A Novel by Imran Mahmood

Author:Imran Mahmood [Mahmood, Imran]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

FORTY-SEVEN

HARRY

WHEN I ARRIVE, ALL IS quiet. There is nothing happening on the road. Almost no traffic passes, but it is early. I keep my eyes open for anyone who looks formal but apart from a few dog walkers, I see nobody. Finally, at around nine, a small white hatchback pulls up a few doors past her house. A man and a woman sit looking at a clipboard. They have to be the ones.

I hasten to Katya’s door and press myself into it so that I can’t be seen from the street and I knock.

Katya opens it with a warm smile. She has on a simple cotton dress, but it makes her skin glow somehow. “Come in.”

I follow her in and then conspiratorially, I tell her, “Don’t mean to worry you, Katya. But I think your bailiffs are here.”

“Shit,” she says, and begins to mutter to herself in another language and starts flapping her arms in panic.

“Wait,” I say. “They can’t come in unless you open the door. And if you’re not here they can’t really do anything. Trust me, you don’t want to be turfed out onto the street with all these boxes.”

“Then what?”

“Let me do the talking. If it really is the bailiffs for you. We’ll know in five minutes. They were just coming up the road.”

When the knock comes I hold up a finger to Katya.

“Hello?”

We stand in silence. This feels so dishonest, what I’m about to do. It’s making me a stranger to myself.

“Could we have a word please, madam? We’re here from immigration.”

Katya looks at me in shock. I take her by the hand and whisper to her. “Go to your room.” I follow her quietly down a short corridor into a sunny bedroom. There are more boxes in here against a chipped wardrobe. “Give me your house keys.”

“They’re in the lock.”

“Okay. Listen, do not leave this room. Don’t make a sound. Switch off your phone.” She nods and sits on the bed as I run back into the kitchen. “Coming,” I say loudly.

When I open up, I see the same man and woman from the hatchback. They introduce themselves by showing me their ID.

“Could we speak to the resident?”

“That’ll be me,” I say. “But now isn’t convenient, I’m afraid. I’m on my way to work. What’s going on?”

They look around at all the boxes. “We’re looking for a female occupant that we believe has no right to remain in the UK or a right to rent.”

“Oh, you’re probably looking for the previous tenant. Yes, she left in something of a hurry, according to the landlord.” Their faces drop. “Look, I have to go, but let me take your card. And if I hear from her, I’ll give you a bell.”

They agree to leave once I’ve promised to supply them copies of my tenancy agreement.

“You can scan it and email it to us or we can come by next week,” the woman says.

I hurry them outside and lock up with the keys Katya gave me as if I’m leaving.

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