Page 37 of A Life Imagined
Gone was the excitement of their meeting with Groupe d’action.Perhaps he’d begun to realize exactly what they were up against.After the recent fatal crossing and a string of violent incidents, the mood in the Jungle had become even more apprehensive.The lines outside the service office stretched farther than usual as people grew frightened about what was to come.
“Maybe we should have brought along one of the residents,” Asmarina said, glancing over at the mayor’s secretary, who sat behind her desk.“Listening to their stories, he’s got to understand why this is so important.”
“He’d probably see it as a gimmick, a way to make him look bad,” Laurent said.“Durand’s pretty touchy about the subject, especially with the election coming up.”
Rayan tried not to let the cynicism show on his face.During his time with the family, he’d had a lot to do with the Montreal City Council.In his experience, those tasked with serving the city were often more interested in serving themselves.He didn’t know whether to expect much else from Claude Durand.
“It’s going to take all our efforts to get him to see the benefit of a permanent solution,” Asmarina added.“Especially since the city seems determined to wash its hands of the problem.”
Durand’s secretary stood and approached them with a smile.“He’s ready for you.”She motioned for them to follow her, and together, they walked down the corridor toward a set of wood-paneled doors.“The mayor is quite busy today, so we’re on a bit of a tight schedule.But I know he’s an admirer of your work, Monsieur Moreau.”
“My wife’s the one who deserves the credit,” Laurent replied.“She’s the real force behind the organization.”
The woman nodded vaguely before rapping on one of the doors and poking her head into the office.“Claude, I have your three o’clock.”
Mayor Durand looked different from how he appeared on the campaign posters that had started cropping up around the city.He was tall and portly, with a prominent mustache and a rapidly diminishing hairline.The billboards gave him a glowing tan that matched the sun-kissed setting of the district he was trying to win, but in person, his skin had a pasty hue.
He greeted them with handshakes, and Rayan fought the urge to pull back when Durand clapped him on the shoulder like a schoolboy.They took seats as the mayor returned to his desk.Rayan’s eyes fell on a framed photo of the man’s family, perched on the corner of the desk.It was angled outward to reveal a short blond woman sandwiched between two teenage girls with matching toothy smiles.
Durand placed his clasped hands out in front of him.“I understand you’ve come to me today with a proposal.”
Laurent paused briefly and tapped his fingers against his knee, which meant he was nervous, despite his earlier expression of confidence.“As you know, the situation at the Jungle isn’t ideal for anyone—the residents of Calais or the people forced to live there.But with no real plan in place to address the situation, it’s only going to get worse.The city’s existing facilities are at capacity, and as more people arrive, they’re going to find themselves forced into the hands of those looking to exploit them.We have a duty of care to those who come to our city.We can’t ignore that responsibility.”
Durand’s face remained unmoving.“Then what would you suggest we do?”
Laurent reached into his bag and withdrew the portfolio he’d shown to the Groupe d’action committee.He placed it open on the mayor’s desk.“We’ve had a bid for funding accepted by Groupe d’action, one of the national NGOs that’s based out here.The situation in Northern France has drawn the attention of the EU, and they’ve made available a development grant designated for a local project in Calais.Our proposal involves building a targeted housing facility that would accommodate the most vulnerable in the camp—the elderly, women, unaccompanied children.We’d use wait-lists and a priority vetting system.”
The mayor flipped through the pages of the portfolio as Laurent went on.
“A significant part of the construction costs would be covered by the grant.However, we were hoping the city would provide the remainder.We believe you have mechanisms available to request assistance from the government on humanitarian grounds.It would cost far less than funding the project independently.All the figures are in there.We’re also proposing a ground lease, which would be an additional source of revenue for the council.I hate to use the phrase, but it really is a win-win.”
Durand stared absently at the plans.“And how much is the remainder you need the city to foot?”
“Around seven million.”
The mayor let out a heavy sigh.“The council is struggling to finance a much-needed upgrade to our water-treatment plant, and you want us to pour even more money into handouts for these people?”
Asmarina leaned forward.“They’ve come here, having made a gamble on humanity, hoping we’ll help shelter them in their time of need.And that camp is not shelter.For many, it represents danger, violence, and fear.The least we can do is give them a decent place to stay while they figure out their next steps.As if their journeys haven’t been harrowing enough, now they’re left to live like dogs?No—worse than that.There are animals in shelters around this city that are better taken care of than the people living in that camp.”
Durand looked at Asmarina, somewhat taken aback.
She clenched her hands tightly in her lap.“Perhaps that was a rather strong analogy…”
“It doesn’t make it any less true,” Rayan cut in.“The forces bringing people here are large and complex, but what we do about them when they arrive says a lot about who we are and our priorities.It shouldn’t be beyond our capacity as a city to provide people with a safe place to sleep.”
The mayor’s expression turned pained.“I understand the sentiment and truly appreciate the work you do, but the people of Calais have had enough.For years, they’ve had to put up with thousands of illegal squatters.And now you’re wanting to give them a permanent reason to keep coming here?We build something like that, and we create a fixing point.They’ll never leave.I’m not going to roll out the red carpet for these people.”
“‘These people,’” Rayan echoed sharply, “have children, parents, sisters, brothers.The woman who drowned at the beach last week has two little girls—just like you.”He stood and stepped forward to turn the photo of the mayor’s wife and daughters around to face him.
Durand reached out to steady the frame with his fingers.“I’m not denying that, but where do we draw the line?”His voice had gone quiet.“The refugees come from countries that should be looking after them.Why should responsibility fall to the residents of Calais?”
“Because they’re here, in our city,” Rayan said.“That’s the reality of the situation.We have the opportunity to prove that not everyone has abandoned them.”
The mayor gave him a pitying look, and Rayan fought against a bubbling anger.He knew how he would have dealt with a man like this before, but despite being back in his suit, Rayan had no power in this office.They had come with their hands out, hoping for his blessing.
“I think what Rayan’s trying to say,” Laurent interjected judiciously, “is that you get a chance to be the hero here, show the world Calais’s generosity.It would be a testament to your legacy.”
“I’m not concerned about my legacy.I only want to keep my constituents happy.Putting up with the camp is bad enough, but to use city money to build a migrant housing facility?There’s no way residents will approve.”He looked at Rayan pointedly.“That’s the reality of the situation.”
