I attach a couple of pages as requested…What If I go!..an excerpt below:

‘Believe me. If I knew then, what I know now I wouldn’t have left home. Mother said something about God’s protection. Rewinding was not an option, but leaving our village seemed a no-brainer then. I was clutching a lucky ewe’s tooth deep inside my wax coat pocket, and my future was sorted. ‘Welcome to Britain,’ the pilot announced. Still, I felt I’d been given a break; doors were opening at last.

            The vibrant rays coming through the plane window weren’t quite as vivid as those in my dream, but it was okay. My journey had begun. Then I had stomach cramps after the touch-down at Birmingham Airport. That triggered running for the loo. Lucky I didn’t know about the dodgy deal I’d signed up to. A good job or I’d have begged a seat on the next flight back to Bucharest.

            Faking it, I kept my eyes focused ahead and rubbed away the creases from my best pink blouse, tucked neatly into my jeans. I convinced myself I could do this travelling abroad thing and desperately wanted to make a good impression, but dragging my wheelie case made me melt into a messy heap. That wasn’t a good start.         

            A fine drizzle crazed the huge arrivals hall windows blurring my vision; the air was muggy. When I reached for a body spray out of the suitcase side pocket, it got kind of awkward. Breaking one of their silly rules about liquids, I passed on sharing the pepper spray joke with my cousin because the natives were far too jumpy. Instead, I texted home – Got ere safe, which I kind of had done. That was premature. My mobile was confiscated not long after.

            This butch official with attitude messed around, pretending to search me. That made Lucian laugh as her Border Force, crazy smile showed way too much enjoyment of the cheap touch-up. And she did it while her mate watched. He was holding a gun, too. It didn’t scare me, being used to hunting; my dad had a gun. Weirdly, staying clueless helped. The trouble escalated with a hail of too many questions from Immigration’s Border Control. That was not fun. They had no sense of humor at this airport. I did crack a joke: ‘Sorry! You’re treating me like I’m some sort of endangered bat. Look, I’ve no wings!’ But I was completely blanked. Making light of their rudeness, I edged towards the Nothing to Declare sign, keen to breathe fresh air.

             Unfortunately, they hauled me to one side. ‘Not that way, follow me.’

            I stalled. ‘There’s my cousin Lucian. You ask him.’ They weren’t happy to accept that we mature early. So I tried to explain again. ‘Don’t worry! I am being met by Mrs. Smith. She knows my uncle Mike. It’s all fixed. You see I’m studying too. Please, can you ask Lucian if you don’t believe me?’

          They laughed. All this country had done so far was to intimidate me. No amount of my pathetic bleating could stop me dropping into their den. I needed to stay cool. Mum’s encouragement when I left, about being under protection, echoed around my head. Her words about Him being loyal seemed like forever-ago. Tags like ‘worthless trash’ were coming through instead. That was for me, not God. That’s how the officials made me feel. I daren’t smile, when I should be happy…’