Page 32 of The New Girl

Clara chewed on her thumbnail. ‘Well, he could be. Lots of refugees die trying to move countries. I saw this documentary on it – people drown on the boats trying to get to Greece or they die in the back of lorries going from France to London or they die –’

‘Stop it!’ Ruby shouted. ‘He’s not dead and that’s it. We are going to keep looking and looking until we find him.’

‘OK, calm down.’ Clara bit into a second brownie. ‘We’ll have to be really clever about getting all the information we need. We’ll each have to ask Safa different questions and sound really casual. So just be all, “Oh hey, Safa, I’m really into star signs ... what dates are all your family born?”, or something like that.’

Ruby thought that was actually a really clever idea.

‘OK, I’ll do that,’ Denise said. ‘My mum is actually into all that star sign stuff, so I know a little bit about it.’

‘I’ll ask about when she got to Ireland and where her dad is in Greece and all those questions. You’re going to have the hard part, Ruby, because you’re her best friend. You’re going to have to get copies of the refugee papers.’

Ruby stared at her. ‘What? How am I going to do that?’

‘Go to her house and when she’s in the kitchen with her mum, go and look in drawers and find them.’

‘Yeah, like a detective,’ Denise giggled.

‘Thanks a lot, guys. I get the really hard part. I can’t go around rummaging through her mum’s private things.’

Clara crossed her arms. ‘Well, you’re the one who started this whole thing.’

‘She’s right,’ Denise said, ‘and you’re the one who wants to find Safa’s dad the most.’

They were right, but still, how on earth was she going to find all the documents in Safa’s house? You couldn’t just stroll into someone’s home and start rooting about in their drawers. Ruby would have to be clever about this. Like a real live detective. But how was she going to do it? How was she going to distract Safa and Rima long enough to rummage about in their house? It was going to be really hard.

But Ruby wasn’t a quitter. She wanted to do this for Safa, so she’d just have to figure it out ... somehow.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Safa

Safa heard the sound of the plane before anyone else. She felt her heart begin to race and her body begin to shake. The palms of her hands were clammy. The sound of planes terrified her. Planes were bad news. Planes were bombs and death and destruction. Planes had killed her auntie and her uncle and her cousins. Planes had destroyed her school. Planes had killed so many people in their neighbourhood. Planes meant danger, serious danger.

The girls looked up in the yard as a low-flying plane flew above them. ‘Hope you’re going somewhere hot!’ someone shouted up at the sky as they all shivered in the November cold.

Safa had to move. She had to get to safety. Her legs felt heavy, but she forced them on. She had to get away from the sound of the plane.

She raced down the school corridor, burst through the classroom door, rolled under a desk in the corner and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. She was rocking back and forth, trying desperately to push away the horrible memories of bombs falling, when she felt a hand on her arm.

‘Are you OK?’ Ruby asked, crawling in to sit beside her. ‘Was it the plane?’

Safa’s voice was hoarse. ‘For me planes are danger. Planes killed people I love.’

‘But not here. Not in Ireland. In Ireland planes are just bringing people on holidays. It’s not like Syria, Safa. You’re safe here. It’s OK.’ Ruby put her arm around her friend.

Safa slowly began to stop shaking. ‘You’re safe, you’re safe,’ she kept repeating over and over in her head. Her heart began to stop thumping and she felt her body slowly begin to unclench. She rubbed her eyes and tried to push the horrible memories from her mind.

Ruby drew circles on Safa’s back with her hand. It was very soothing. ‘That feels nice,’ Safa said.

‘I do this sometimes when Robbie has one of his fits. Most of the time it doesn’t work, but sometimes it does.’

Safa gave Ruby a small smile. Ruby’s life was complicated too. Living in a safe country didn’t mean that life was perfect.

The noise of the plane made Safa think about her father. Was Baba safe? Was he hungry? Thirsty? Lonely? Injured?Where are you, Baba? I need you, she thought, wishing it was his big strong arm around her, comforting her.

The two friends sat under the desk in silence until they heard footsteps and saw two pairs of shiny patent shoes in front of them.

‘OMG, are you actually afraid of a stupid plane? Like, seriously. What are you, two years old? Pathetic,’ Amber sneered.

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