Chapter 16 #2
‘As I got older and started seeing the world through the lens of Zafar Saeed II rather than Zafar Saeed I, I started seeing the reality of what my grandfather had set up, the order he had put in place. But rather than cause any conflict, in my own way I tried to involve those my grandfather neglected – mainly Qais, Saf and Ash. Ibrahim, Rayyan and Haroon didn’t really feature because they were that much younger at the time.
He treated them like the children they were.
‘Even though I was “The Chosen One”, I tried not to let it become a thing between me and the others and, to be fair, it didn’t.
No one knew any better to begin with and when we did, we just went along with the status quo because no one ever went against my grandfather’s decree.
But once Safiya had graduated my grandfather arranged her marriage with a guy who lives here in Kenya.
She told him she wasn’t in agreement, but he didn’t listen.
Daadi and my uncle also tried to get him to change his mind, but he didn’t listen to them either.
He laughed Qais and Ash out of the room when they tried and so I went to him. ’
Reshma swallowed the dryness in her throat, the tension in her gut tightening with each sentence Zafar spoke in the retelling of this part of his family history. She sensed he was getting to a part of this whole tale which had had a deep impact on him.
‘Can I get you anything else? Sir? Madam?’ The waiter had silently approached the table and Reshma realised that they’d finished their food and it was time to leave.
Zafar paid the bill, thanking the waiter, and they both made their way down to the beach from the restaurant deck, deciding to take a walk back to the villa the scenic way.
The churning in her gut had abated a bit with the enforced break in Zafar’s story and with the moonlight glinting off the water and the waves splashing against the sand, Reshma felt some ease work its way into her muscles.
She hadn’t appreciated how tense she had become sitting there listening to what he had to say.
Zafar presented such a perfect front to the world and yet there was a great degree of sorrow hidden within him that he kept tucked away from everyone.
She glanced his way. He was looking down at the sand as they strolled along the beach, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows.
Going with her gut, Reshma linked her arm through his and, aside from pausing momentarily at the initial shock of it, Zafar kept going, squeezing her arm against his side and holding her close.
It was amazing how in just one day, she felt as comfortable as she did with him. Enough that she was initiating contact. She needed to be careful though, otherwise she’d fall back into old feelings in a heartbeat and that was exactly what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do.
Except, for some reason, she felt completely detached from everything in that moment.
From their history, their personal issues and the lead-up to both of them being in Mombasa.
It all felt like something that she ought to remember to take into account tomorrow, but for just that evening she could put it to one side and concentrate on them.
There was something about the openness and vulnerability Zafar had shown her that had melted some of her reservations. She wanted to hold on to that for a bit longer and see where it took them.
‘You said Safiya’s marriage was arranged here in Kenya. Does she live here? Are you going to try to see her while we’re here?’
In the silence surrounding them – save for the sound of the water – she heard him take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
‘Yeah, she lives in Nairobi. Daadi told me that Safiya might be coming to Saleema’s wedding.
It turns out that Uncle Imtiaz’s mother has some distant connection with Saf’s in-laws and they’ve been invited.
There’s a chance we might see her. To be honest, that’s the only way we’d get to see her.
Since her wedding, she’s not spoken to any of us. ’
‘That’s such a shame, given how close you guys were.’
‘Maybe that’s why. I let her down, Reshma.
I failed her. Qais, Ash and I fought on her behalf with our grandfather and while he didn’t give them any airtime, he tried to reason with me about how it was the best decision for Safiya.
In the end, his decision prevailed and it’s been six years since we’ve seen or spoken to Safiya.
She refused to have anything to do with the family.
After her wedding, when the rest of us went back to London, nothing was the same.
Our family broke down and it was … it was all my grandfather’s fault. ’
The words came out in a rush, but Reshma could tell the depth of emotion Zafar felt as he tried to drill it down to basics. His body language told a story of its own. He looked so tightly wound up, she feared he might well snap.
She hadn’t paid attention to when her other hand had clasped around his arm so she was holding onto him, their steps slow and measured as they followed the route through the beach back to the villa.
After a few moments of tense silence in which she could hear Zafar’s harsh breathing and the drumbeat of her own pulse in her ears, Reshma sucked in a deep breath to try to calm the tension she felt in her chest at what she’d heard.
It was in complete contrast to what she had believed about the dynamic of the family she was married into.
It was like seeing a hidden dark part of a sunny picture.
Something which couldn’t be unseen after that.
‘If the decision was your grandfather’s, why did Safiya stop speaking to everyone else?’ she asked gently.
He looked her way, lines bracketed his mouth and his eyes appeared dull and tired in the faint moonlight. He’d run his fingers through his hair and half of it stood up at odd angles, while the other half was still neatly styled as it fell back into its layers.
‘Safiya’s marriage shattered our family in more ways than one, Reshma.’ He huffed out a laugh and its chill made a shiver skate down her spine. ‘It shattered lives. Mine included.’
If she could, Reshma would have lowered her eyebrows further, but she couldn’t. Her jaw ached from the tension she was holding in it.
‘Before that dark time, I used to be the apple of my grandfather’s eye. I could do no wrong and I didn’t do anything wrong.’
Zafar bowed his head as he shook it and then lifted it to look at the sky.
The delineation of his jaw showed the tension he was holding in it and Reshma felt her fingers tingle with the need to ease his pain.
To put a reassuring hand on that granite-hard jaw and help him find a sense of peace, but she held back, keeping her hands around his arm and willing some warmth into him as he took a deep breath.
He had said it wouldn’t be easy listening. She’d just not appreciated how hard it would be for him to say it.
‘I tried to reason with him, told him that it was unfair and unreasonable to force Safiya to do something she didn’t want to do.
She wanted to travel, work, experience life.
She certainly didn’t want to emigrate, leaving behind everything that was familiar to her for a complete stranger and his family in a country which she didn’t think of as home like our grandparents did.
‘For the first time in my life, I stood toe to toe with my grandfather. I argued with him. Not just for Safiya but for the others too. I challenged him and, in the end, I lost. I failed my cousins, my brothers and, ultimately, I failed myself. We came here for Safiya’s wedding and that was the last time we saw her.
When we got back to London, Qais left home and my uncle and aunt moved away too.
And on the back of all of that, I walked out of the family business and home and told my grandfather that he could take care of it all himself how he saw fit. I wanted no part of it.’
‘You left home too?’ Reshma didn’t know how, but every new facet of this story was shocking her afresh. It sounded unlike anything she could have imagined, and she’d thought her life story had been complicated. ‘What did you do? Where did you go?’
For the first time since he’d started telling her about this part of his history, she saw the beginning of a genuine smile on his face as he glanced at her.
‘Murad Aziz came to my rescue.’ He laughed and this time there was honest humour in the sound.
‘I stayed with him for a bit until I found myself a job and then, when I could afford it, I rented a place. Murad and his parents helped me a lot at the time. Of course, I was in touch with my brothers and Mum and Daadi, but my dad didn’t want to upset his own dad so we didn’t really keep in touch.
Though my mum used to tell me that he always asked after me.
I lost contact with Qais and I felt too guilty to keep in touch with my uncle and aunt. ’
‘But you eventually went back home, obviously.’
‘I did.’ His smile dimmed. ‘Three years later. My grandfather’s health had declined a great deal in that time and he suffered two heart attacks back to back.
Thankfully, he survived, but they weakened him a great deal.
He saw his end in sight and wanted to reconcile with his estranged grandchildren. Only one of us responded.’
‘You.’
He nodded. ‘Me.’ He blew out a breath, fatigue evident on his face.
Reshma herself felt pretty exhausted. It felt like they’d had a thirty-six-hour day rather than twenty-four.
‘He called me and I came back, taking my place as his right-hand man for the rest of his life and doing what he’d always wanted me to do.
The crazy thing is, when I saw him, I felt guilty for having done what I did. I saw another person I’d failed.’
Zafar’s previous words flashed in her mind like lightning. I’ve been a failure as a husband, I’m well aware of that.
And he hadn’t just said it once. He’d repeated himself.
This man, who she thought was infallible, had such a deep insecurity and she’d had no idea.
In the past year, she’d not seen a single sign to suggest he felt insecure about anything, let alone being a failure.
She’d been pretty quick to point out his lack of interest in her, but how much effort had she made to get to know Zafar on a deeper level?
To know what his past was made up of. She’d always assumed he’d had a glorious life, filled with an abundance of all the good things that were on offer to a privileged young man who was loved by all.
Not in her wildest dreams would she have imagined the things he’d spoken about this evening.
She heard him take an audible breath before he spoke again.
‘He passed away a year before we got married. In fact, our marriage was one of the last things he arranged. He’d learnt his lesson with Safiya and didn’t force the matter, but I knew it was what he wanted and …’ He went quiet.
‘You didn’t want to say no to him. I get it.’ She didn’t have to like it, but she got it.
Reshma watched him as his cheeks took on a peachy hue.
This bit didn’t really come as a surprise to her.
She knew he hadn’t agreed to marry her because he was in love with her or she was his choice of partner.
She knew their match had been arranged. She was very much his grandfather’s choice – dying wish even – and so here they were.
Except for her, it was more than the fact that Zafar was someone her uncle and aunt had chosen for her. She had chosen him too.
All the people in her life that had shown her affection, acceptance and love had been people who didn’t have a close bond with her.
People like her aunts and uncles, her cousins and Daadi.
Those who actually had a closer connection with her were the ones who she was least close to.
Where she got the least attention. The least love.
Her parents – though her mother had never really got the chance to forge a relationship with her before she’d lost her.
But her father had had a chance and had chosen not to take it.
None of her grandparents had bothered either.
And then there was Zafar.
Her husband.
The man she’d thought would prove to her that she was worthy of a close relationship, cherish her in a way she had always desired deep down.
But that hadn’t happened. He had broken her heart and her dreams, and even though she felt the tentative flicker of a connection right now, she couldn’t let herself be in the position of opening herself up to more heartbreak.
She couldn’t and wouldn’t let it happen again.