The Uncaged Sky by Kylie Moore-Gilbert

Author:Kylie Moore-Gilbert [Moore-Gilbert, Kylie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

PART 3

MIND GAME

CHAPTER 12

LIGHT POOLED UNDER AN ancient streetlamp as we pulled into the dark hospital car park. As Mehrnush unfastened the handcuffs from my wrists, a small group of women emerged from the gloom and congregated several metres away, next to a shadowy minibus. I had swapped chadors with Niloufar before she left, and wrapped the bright floral fabric tightly around my body. I was famished and shivering, and Nilou’s chador did little to protect me from the winter chill flowing down into Evin from the nearby Alborz mountains. The previous day’s vitamin infusion had given me a short-lived burst of strength to continue my strike, but now once again my health was failing, and I found myself back at the hospital. I leant on Mehrnush’s shoulder and tried to focus the fog in my mind on the group of female prisoners in front of us.

‘Kylie! Kylie Moore-Gilbert!’ one of them shouted. Her accent was Iranian, but with a distinctive British lilt.

Without thinking, I moved towards them.

Three women in casual clothes were standing a little apart from the others, including the one who’d called my name. She was tall and slim and had deep-set brown eyes. ‘I’m Nazanin,’ she said as I reached her.

‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed. ‘Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe!’ I immediately embraced her. ‘I’m so sorry about what has happened to you…’

Nazanin was the most famous foreign prisoner in Iran. I had a vague recollection of seeing a story about her plight in an Australian news broadcast a few months before I set off on my own trip. Then-British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson had made a terrible blunder in parliament, mistakenly referring to Nazanin as a journalist and inadvertently providing the Iranians with ammunition for convicting her of bogus security-related offences. I had heard much more about Nazanin from other prisoners and the prison guards, as she had spent time in 2A during her interrogation.

‘I knew it was you because of the uniform,’ Nazanin said. Mehrnush was eyeing us warily but didn’t seem inclined to intervene just yet. ‘Niloufar, Sepideh!’ I gasped, desperate for news of my friends.

‘Yes, they’re with us,’ Nazanin said. ‘They’re settling in well, don’t worry. They told me about you. We’ve been waiting for you to join us for months now! Why are you still in 2A?’

It was a good question. The law stated that I must be transferred out of IRGC detention and into the public prison system now that my appeal had been rejected. Instead, I remained in 2A, spiralling deeper into desperation and despair with every day that passed.

Mehrnush grabbed my arm and started to pull me away. I gave Nazanin’s hand a squeeze. ‘Look after yourself, Nazanin jan. Keep fighting… Please give Nilou and Sepideh my love. Elena too…’ As the guard pulled me through the doors of the prison hospital, I waved and blew Nazanin a kiss. The entire group of female prisoners blew kisses back.

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