London or find somewhere to eat first, she sees Cassie walking towards her. Liyana stands, ready to scuttle off in the opposite direction in case the police are following behind. But, seeing Cassie’s expression, she stays herself.
“I’m glad you didn’t get far,” Cassie says. “It’s too cold out to be searching the streets.”
Liyana sits.
“I’m sorry,” Cassie says, “about before. I didn’t know who you were. You might have been some sort of stalker.”
“So, why don’t you think I am now?”
“My boss was ranting about Goldie earlier—long blond hair, big blue eyes . . . Beautiful, right?”
Liyana nods, knowing, though she can’t explain how, that this Goldie is her sister. “Right.”
“So, I know she’s in trouble. She left two weeks ago without a word. None of us know what happened and I thought that maybe you could . . .” Cassie gives Liyana an appraising look. “But . . . I don’t . . . how come you’re . . .”
“Black?”
“Well, yeah,” Cassie says, uneasy. “I mean, I don’t mean to be—Before, I wasn’t being . . .”
Yes, you were, Liyana thinks. But she needs to keep this girl on her side until she gets the all-important address.
“It’s all right.” Liyana gives Cassie a wry smile. “Different mother, different colour.”
“Oh, right. Well, anyway, I don’t know what happened, why she left so suddenly, but . . . I was thinking about you and I’ve got a feeling maybe you’ll be able to help her.”
Liyana frowns. “You do?”
“Sometimes I get these feelings . . .” She shrugs. “Intuition, I suppose.”
Liyana smiles. “Me too.”
“Well, that’s great.” Cassie rummages in her handbag, picking out a piece of folded paper and handing it to Liyana. “Her address. She gave my boss a fake one—he’s furious. I don’t know why she gave it to me, since she never invited me over anytime, but”—Cassie gives Liyana the once-over again—“I guess maybe now I do. Anyway . . . send her my love when you see her. Tell her we all miss her, especially Jake. I know she can’t visit, but tell her to take care, okay?”
Liyana nods.
8:35 p.m.—Liyana & Goldie
If Liyana procrastinated outside the Fitzwilliam Hotel, it’s nothing compared with how long she waits outside Goldie’s flat, after gaining access to the building by sneaking in behind another visitor. Now she paces the corridor, up and down, up and down, occasionally pressing her ear to Goldie’s door. It’s only when Liyana realizes how late it’s getting that she stops pacing.
Imagining how BlackBird might address the situation—by kicking down the door with steel-capped boots—Liyana gives a tentative knock. When Goldie opens the door, it’s with the chain.
“What do you want?”
“I—I . . .” Liyana extends her hand. “I’m Liyana Miriro Chiweshe. But, um, call me Ana. I—”
“I didn’t ask for your birth certificate,” Goldie snaps. “I asked why you’re here.”
Liyana swallows. “I’m, um, well . . . Cassie, the receptionist at the Fitzwilliam Hotel—you know?—she gave me your address. She told me to send her love. She told me to tell you to take care. She says she misses you, Jake too.”
A guilty look passes over Goldie’s face. “How do you know Cassie?”
Liyana wishes she had a better story than the truth, but she hasn’t. “I met her today. I told her . . . I told her I was your sister.”
The chain slides across the lock and the door opens an inch. Goldie pokes her nose out. Liyana’s spirits lift. Then, catching the glint of the large kitchen knife in Goldie’s hands, they fall again.
“I don’t have a sister. Besides,” Goldie says, a raised eyebrow pointedly taking in the colour of Liyana’s skin and the bounce of her hair, “you look nothing like me.”
And yet, despite Goldie’s words, Liyana sees reflected in those blue eyes her own flash of recognition, her own tug of memory, a reminder of something lost and long ago. Her sister knows her, though she doesn’t know how.
“Please, give me a chance to explain. If you don’t believe me, you can kick me out and I’ll never bother you again, I promise. Please.”
Goldie scrutinizes Liyana more deeply. Then, perhaps considering that she’s the one wielding an enormous kitchen knife, opens the door.
9:59 p.m.—Goldie & Liyana
“How did you find me?”
Liyana looks confused. “I went to the hotel, Cassie—”
I shake my head. “No, I mean, how did you know to look for me?”
“Oh, right. Okay, yeah . . .” Liyana stalls. “Well, um, first I . . . Well, I sort of heard your voice