‘Oh, Amelia!’ cried her mother.
‘Can she hear us?’ her father asked the nurse.
‘Yes, she can. Talk to her.’
Precious’s eyes flickered open, briefly, then closed again. Could she hear them, did she even know they were there? Layla drew back from the bed, feeling that she was intruding on a private family moment. She wanted to talk to Precious, but with her parents there, she knew she couldn’t.
‘Look, I’ll come back a bit later,’ she said, but they weren’t listening, they were too busy focusing on the wreckage of their daughter.
Layla crept from the room. She sat outside in the waiting area, her father’s two goons on either side of her, too shaky to move. It felt as if she was either going to throw up or sob her heart out.
Later she felt strong enough to go back in. The nurse was saying relatives only again.
‘I’m her friend,’ protested Layla. ‘Come on.’
But the nurse wasn’t having it. Layla sat back down in the waiting room with the goons, and waited for another hour until Precious’s parents returned.
‘Hello,’ she said, standing up. ‘They won’t let me in to see her. They’re saying relatives only.’
‘Come in with us,’ said Precious’s – Amelia’s – mother. Catching sight of the two big men looming on either side of Layla, both of whom had stood up with her, she looked puzzled. ‘And these are your brothers…?’ she guessed.
‘Yeah,’ said Layla, because there was no way she could explain what her two-man escort really was.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ said Precious’s father. ‘There was something we wanted to ask you.’
‘Oh?’
‘The police were saying she had a job in a nightclub of some sort.’ He was frowning. ‘She never mentioned anything about that to us. Did she say anything to you about it?’
Layla thought quickly. ‘She did a couple of nights a week behind the bar at the Shalimar,’ she said. ‘You know, just to make a bit of pin money to pay for textbooks and stuff.’
Dad’s brow cleared at this. Mum visibly relaxed. Layla could feel the relief seeping from both of them. She felt ashamed, lying to them this way.
‘They’re saying that’s where this happened,’ said Precious’s father.
‘She’s going to be a psychotherapist,’ said her mother.
‘I know, she’s so bright.’
‘Why would anyone want to hurt her this way? I just can’t…’ Her voice faltered and she struggled to blink away the tears.
Layla felt sick. If not for her, this would never have happened.
The nurse hurried across to them. ‘You can go in now,’ she said.
This time, Precious was conscious. Her parents hogged the bedside, and Layla stood to the side, waiting for her moment. Precious’s bloodshot eyes fastened on hers now and again, while she talked in a painful mumble to her folks.