Jasmine leaves the little family in the office and closes the door on them. She is way out of her comfort zone but she does know someone who has probably done this before and who might be able to help. She hauls out her phone and calls Pamela. The call goes straight to voicemail but she leaves a message. She stands in the main office, tapping her phone against her fingers, trying to fathom what to do next.
Dave looks up from the desk he is working at, a plate of crumbs by his side, the last traces of Pamela’s cookies. “Is everything alright?”
“Not really,” Jasmine replies and heads off to the kitchen. A cookie wouldn’t go amiss and might help. There are only two left and Jasmine swipes one. She is standing with her back to the door, when she hears some confusion behind her.
Ben’s voice, clear and surprised, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”
Jasmine whirls out of the kitchen and goes to intercept. Ben and Lou are standing in the doorway of his office.
“They’re with me,” she says. She sees the toddler has a sheet of paper and is now drawing with some pens on the floor. The baby is asleep in his mother’s arms. She pulls the door shut. “And we’ll need your office for a bit longer. Is Pamela with you?”
“No.” Ben is abrupt.
Lou is more helpful: “She said she had some errands to run. She’ll be a couple of hours.”
But Ben waves her silent. “Jasmine, why are there kids in my office?”
Jasmine pushes him towards the meeting room and Lou trails after them. When they are safely isolated, she turns to Ben. “She’s a domestic violence victim. She’s left her husband.”
“Okay. But why is she here?”
“I met her.”
“Still not an answer.”
“I told her I would help.”
“You?”
“Yes. Her husband has threatened to kill the children.” Jasmine catches the horrified look on Lou’s face and wishes the girl weren’t in the room with them.
Ben explodes. “For God’s sake, Jasmine! This is a minefield. What is it about you? First your sister, now this. Haven’t you learnt by now? You can’t save the world!”
Jasmine’s hackles rise. “I’m not trying to save the world. Just three people.”
Ben’s hand goes to his head and he grabs his hair. “These are always complicated scenarios. She needs proper, professional help. And here you are, without any training, blundering around like a bull in a china shop. Have you at least called social services?”
From the look on Jasmine’s face, Ben clearly draws his own conclusions.
“Whathaveyou done?”
“I called Pamela. She’ll have dealt with this sort of thing before.”
“And what did Pamela say?”
“She didn’t answer. Her phone might be off.”
“Jasmine,” Ben says, calmer now, “they can’t stay here. The volunteers will be trickling in soon for tonight’s canvassing. The more people who see her, the greater the chance someone will recognise her. They tell someone who tells someone else who tells her husband. Hayburn is not so large.”
Jasmine’s fingers go to her mouth at the thought. But before they can get any further, the dulled wail of a baby crying comes through the walls.
When Jasmine opens the door of Ben’s office, the noise escalates drastically. It seems to go through her head. “What’s wrong?” she calls.
“He’s probably thirsty.” Natatsha jiggles him to try and distract him. “Have you got a bottle or a sippy cup?”
“No. Haven’t you?”
“You said to leave everything.” That’s right. She’d said that. And Ben was right. Listening to the baby cry, everyone in the building would soon know Natasha was here. Although the cry is fit to drive every thought out of her head, Jasmine realises here is only one thing she can do.
