Rosa and the Packgage Part 2

This is part 2 of Rosa and the Package for part 1 click here

                  Rosa slept badly that night, she hadn’t realised how shaken up she’d been seeing Igor being apprehended like that. The net was closing in, it wouldn’t be long before there was a knock on her door or a hand on her shoulder and she’d be led away never to be seen again. Every time she closed her eyes she saw those two policemen coming for her or saw the inside of a cell. When she did finally fall asleep she dreamt of show trials and public humiliation.  She’d seen the show trials on TV, the trumped up charges, the boos and shouts of traitor from the public gallery before the solemn announcement of the death penalty by the judge. Eventually her alarm went off and she could stop the pretence of trying to sleep and get out of bed. Not that being up was any better; it felt like the walls were watching her, the furniture was whispering about her clandestine lifestyle, the windows reporting her to the authorities. She had to get out, she couldn’t bear being in the oppressive flat any longer. She put on her woollen coat, found her umbrella and stepped out into the storm.

               Rosa had been walking for hours, but suddenly she stopped in her tracks and shivered like someone had walked over her grave. She blinked to check her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. She’d just seen a dead man walking. Walking straight into the bar the cops had picked him up from the previous night. Rain fell lightly, accelerating the thaw but it was still cold and Rosa shivered as she stared at the door of the bar wondering if it really had been Igor she’d seen. It had to be, who else had that weird gait, those short legs and long body? It had to be Igor but it didn’t make sense. Why would the police come to take him away, only for him to be back on the streets the next morning? She knew from bitter experience that they didn’t work like that. So how had Igor got out? And what did it mean?

               She thought of the package, back in her flat, should she go to get it and bring it to Igor, after all he was the intended recipient. But she felt uneasy about passing on such sensitive information to him now. She’d never trusted him but this miraculous escape made her trust him even less.  She felt alone, helpless, threatened. Rain pattered on her umbrella and gathered in puddles at her feet, she shivered again and coughed into the damp air. The cause was so secretive, she knew what she was fighting for but she never knew who she was fighting with. Igor was the only open member, the rest were shadows, ghost, gusts of wind who contacted her when they needed her but the lines of communication were strictly one way. She’d wait, she’d wait to be contacted again and until then sit on the package like a nervous, brooding hen.