Chapter 2
A ngelina
The stressed-out vibes rolling off Rada were obvious, and it wasn’t just because of the flight, which turned out to be something she was afraid of.
My hand was still sore from how tightly she gripped it during take off and landing.
I didn’t complain, though, because she never leaned on me for anything, and if my hand had to be crushed to help her, then I was okay with that.
But frustratingly, she still acted like I was twelve years old, pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. She seemed to forget that while she worked in the UK, I looked after both our parents and the flat. I might not have been as worldly as her, but I wasn’t stupid.
“What is wrong?” I asked her again as the minibus pulled away from the curb.
I still had to think about the sequence of my English words sometimes, although Rada told me they sounded fine.
“It’s nothing.” She picked at her nail polish and crossed her legs a few times.
“Just tell me.”
“I don’t like they’ve taken our passports,” she whispered, and unease rippled up my spine.
“They needed to take copies,” I said, cautiously.
Admittedly, that had seemed strange, but then I’d never travelled before.
“Yes, but they didn’t need to keep them.” Rada glanced at the back of the driver’s head.
The guy was huge, with closely shaved hair. Next to him was the woman, Charlotte, who had met us at the airport. We were alone in the back of the twelve-seater.
“What did the paperwork say?” I whispered.
“Just that they’d need to see them and take copies.” She licked her lips. “It’s probably nothing. Look out the window and get your first glimpse of the UK.”
I scowled, staring out the window at the grey motorway, annoyed that she always treated me like a child. For goodness’s sake, I was twenty-three. I’d coped while she was in the UK, admittedly, it had cost me our grandmother’s gold necklace at the pawnshop to keep food on the table, but I managed.
My gut twisted with a restless feeling. Aside from going to our grandparents’ house in the country, I've never been out of our city before now, and all the people at the airport, coupled with Rada’s worry, were a bit overwhelming.
After forty-five minutes, we pulled up in front of an old warehouse. I touched Rada’s shoulder, but she was frowning, staring at the rundown surroundings.
“Is this it?” I asked.
It wasn’t very visually appealing and just added to my unease.
“I don’t know,” Rada said.
“Let’s get your paperwork done.” Charlotte opened the door next to Rada and beckoned us out.
“Is this where we’ll be staying?” I asked.
“No, this is just where we do the intake.”
“What’s an intake?” I questioned Rada, not recognising the context for the English word.
Charlotte’s heels clicked on the concrete as she walked toward the door at the front of the large building.
“The pack said the intake was our personal, employment, and health information, along with a medical, but I thought we’d be going to an office,” Rada said, shifting from foot to foot.
“What shall we do?” I asked, my scalp prickling as I realised the huge guy who’d been driving had come to close the car's back door.
“Do we need our things?” Rada called to Charlotte, who held the door open.
“No, we’ll bring them.”
Rada took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
Inside was cold and grey. We walked along a long corridor and through a door. The room had a few hard chairs along one wall by another door.
“Wait here, and the doctor will call you through.” Charlotte disappeared through a door to the left before we could ask any more questions.
I sat, but Rada paced in front of me.
“Angelina Bachev?” An elderly man in a white coat emerged from the door next to us.
I stood up, nerves filling my chest. Rada held up her hand in front of me, but let it drop at the last moment.
“See you soon,” she said.
Tightening my hands on my jacket, I went inside. It was also grey here, with a metal examining couch and a small table where the doctor sat. He gestured for me to sit on the bed.
He asked me basic medical questions in Bulgarian, and I answered. I’d not been to the doctor much, and there wasn’t much to go over.
“Number of sexual partners?”
“What?” I blinked at him.
He repeated the question, his face expressionless.
“I-I… that’s. I’ve not.”
His gaze bored into me, then he muttered something and wrote on his form.
“Take your clothes off and lie down.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.” He turned his back, pulling on gloves and collecting equipment.
I wriggled uncomfortably before drawing my arms through my jacket. Was this normal? Shivering at the chill in the air as I removed my layers, I stripped down to my underwear, feeling self-conscious.
The doctor moved closer with a noise of impatience. His stethoscope was cold as he pressed it to my chest, and his bony fingers dug into my tummy.
“These off.” He pointed to my underwear, and thickness filled my throat.
Reflexively, I pulled my knees up.
“Now. You are wasting my time,” the doctor barked.
I clutched the edges of my underwear and pulled them down with trembling fingers, averting my eyes to the ceiling. He barked instructions to open my legs, and I flinched as he touched my intimate place. I tried to ignore the sensations as heat tingled in my face.
“Get dressed,” the doctor snapped, and I realised he was back at his desk writing on his papers.
I ducked my head and pulled my clothes back on, and he dismissed me.
“Is everything okay?” Rada asked when she saw me.
My knees were weak as I sank into my chair, and I nodded briskly, unable to voice what I wanted to say.
The doctor called her in, and she entered with a lingering glance back at me. I shifted in my chair; the memory of the doctor’s hands on me making my stomach churn. Why did we need this type of medical check? The doctor at home only listened to my chest.
Rada returned about fifteen minutes later, but she looked the same. My sister was good at masking her emotions, and I decided to forget what happened in the room. She probably had that examination when she came here before, but it was worse for me as I’d never done anything intimate before.
Charlotte reappeared and went into the doctor's room. She emerged with paperwork clutched in her hands.
“Rada, come with me. Angelina, please wait here.”
“Why aren’t we going together?” Rada asked.
“Because you are going into healthcare,” Charlotte replied, tapping her heel impatiently.
“I’ll see you soon.” Rada gripped my hand and disappeared after Charlotte out of the side door.
I shivered as I waited for the coldness from the concrete floors seeping up through the soles of my thin shoes.
“This way.” Charlotte returned holding paperwork, and I stood, stretching my stiff joints.
We walked down another corridor and through another room on the side of the previous waiting room.
This one had multiple doors off it. Charlotte stepped inside the closest one, and I followed her.
This one had a narrow cot and a metal toilet.
Charlotte turned abruptly, and I moved to the side to prevent walking into her.
“You will stay here until you are given further instructions.”
“What?”
Did I hear her wrong? I thought over the translation of her words in my head, but she’d pivoted to the door and was closing it rapidly.
“Hey!” I shouted as it clanged shut.
My chest tightened at the unmistakable sound of a lock engaging. The choking sensation intensified as I jerked the door handle, and it didn’t budge.
“Hey.” I pounded on the door, trying not to freak out. “What’s going on?”
I banged until my hand was sore, but Charlotte didn’t answer. The cold stone walls pressed in on me, and my vision spotted at the edges as it sank in what was happening. A sob shuddered up from my chest.
I was in a cell.