Chapter Thirty-Five
That night, I met up with Noah, feeling nervous and shy as if we were meeting for the first time. The all-day-and-all-night texting had brought us closer, but now that I was going to see him in the flesh, I suddenly felt embarrassed about the flirting and little innuendos that our messages had evolved into.
Noah suggested that we go for a walk and although ‘walking’ wasn’t my idea of a perfect date (isn’t walking what you did to get to the actual date?), I feigned enthusiasm and agreed to meet him at Alexandra Palace. The weather was nice at least and sunset wasn’t until nine, so maybe he wanted to make the most of the sunshine.
‘Maya, over here,’ Noah called out as I approached him standing outside the palace, which stood at the top of a hill overlooking London as night began to fall. The evening was clearer than usual. Without London smog blurring the view, the twinkling lights of the city competed with the stars above us.
‘Hey, Noah,’ I replied, my hands suddenly feeling clammy. How was I supposed to act after he texted me that he ‘desperately’ wanted to see me? I didn’t look my best following my three-day stint in bed and accompanying diet of sugary cereal, but he didn’t seem to notice. He smiled broadly at me, not only with his sexy mouth but with those beautiful green-grey eyes travelling down my body as though I were in a ballgown, not a floral maxi-skirt and a plain white T-shirt.
‘Come here,’ he whispered, taking my hands and pulling me closer to him. For a second, I froze. What was he going to do? I couldn’t let him kiss me, not unless we were engaged to be married, at least. We weren’t even close to getting engaged. I didn’t know what we were, besides texting buddies. I couldn’t let some random man kiss me without the promise of a future! Kissing, or any physical contact, isn’t permitted Islamically during the engagement period either by the way and the thought of starting a future with someone in a way that wasn’t blessed didn’t feel right to me.
Noah seemed to sense my panic and released my hands. I let out a sigh of relief and he placed an arm around my shoulder instead, drawing me closer and resting his head on top of mine. The bare skin of his arm brushed against mine, causing all the little hairs on my body to rise in delicious anticipation. He smelt like detergent and aftershave mixed together, a combination I never knew could be so alluring.
We stood there for a while, me nestled into him, staring out at London spread before us, talking about the things we wanted to do for the rest of the summer and beyond, until he suggested that we walk around Alexandra Park. I reluctantly moved away, instantly feeling his absence. But then he took my hand in his and we walked around the grounds of the park together like a real couple. Walking, I realised, was a pretty good date activity after all.
‘What else have you been up to?’ he asked as we strolled hand in hand. ‘Apart from cooking amazing food?’
‘I’ve been spending a lot of time with my mum lately,’ I said, wondering how much detail I should go into. We hadn’t had any deep conversations yet and I wasn’t sure if our relationship had reached that level.
Noah didn’t probe further and instead began filling me in on his week, which was full of exercise and sounded exhausting.
‘I’ve been swimming outdoors in Hampstead a lot,’ he said. ‘You should try it. It’s amazing.’
‘Actually, I have,’ I revealed. ‘I did it back in April.’
‘April?’ Noah stopped in his tracks. ‘It must have been cold!’
‘It was,’ I shrugged casually, as though it had been easy. ‘But that made it even better, you know?’
‘You’re something else,’ Noah breathed almost reverently, stopping to gaze into my eyes. ‘You’re perfect, in every way. I can’t believe I found you on an app. I’ve never had this much in common with anyone before. It’s unreal.’
‘Thanks,’ I said weakly, breaking eye contact. ‘You’re amazing too. I, err, also can’t believe how similar we are.’
We continued to stroll and it was while we were heading back to the car and Noah was telling me yet another story about one of his clients that I spotted Zakariya climbing out of his Mercedes. Gripped with panic, I immediately dropped Noah’s hand, although he was so engrossed in what he was saying that I didn’t think he noticed. What the hell was Zak doing here?
A moment later, he saw me too and our eyes locked. An expression of shock flew across his face as he observed Noah, who continued walking towards his car, utterly oblivious to what was going on around him. Zak looked good, really good, in a form-fitting black T-shirt and jeans. I had never seen him in a T-shirt before and his bare arms were toned but not as muscular as Noah’s. My heart pounded as I wondered what I should do, how I should react. Was I supposed to go over and speak to him? What was the protocol in this situation? How would I possibly be able to introduce them to each other?
Before I could figure it out, Zakariya made the decision for me. He waved his hand in a brief hello – turning away from me in a gesture that implied he didn’t want to stop and talk – and went over to open the passenger door instead. A second later, as Noah and I walked past his car, a stunning girl in a hijab climbed out, smiling up at him. Zakariya’s back was to me so I couldn’t see his expression, but I could imagine the sort of look he was giving her. And inside me, my heart constricted painfully. His not stopping to say hello wasn’t because I was with a man, it was because he was with a woman.
Plastering a fake smile on my face, I turned back to Noah and tried to tune into his chatter. My legs trembling, I followed him to his own car, a flashy two-seater, and somewhere in the dregs of my mind, I wondered how he could afford a car like this when he’d only recently paid off his credit-card debt. Sliding into the car, Noah continued to waffle, I continued to smile and inside, my heart continued to wilt.
I had to go into work on Thursday. I couldn’t bunk for the fourth day in a row without a doctor’s note confirming that I did have the ‘virus’ I claimed to have. The thought of seeing Lucy made me anxious and the thought of running into Zak in Arabic felt just as torturous, but it was time to face reality. And not because some list told me to make amends. If I could open up to my mum, then surely, I could have an honest conversation with Lucy?
On the way into the office, I checked Noah’s notebook to see what number twenty-seven was, hoping it wasn’t anything too intense:
27.GO ON A SOLO TRIP. EUROPE? ASIA? THERE’S SO MUCH TO SEE AND DO!!!
There were no notes, so I had no idea where he went in the end or if he had gone at all. Travelling solo didn’t appeal to me in the slightest. I couldn’t think of anything lonelier than being in another country and having no one to experience it with, no one to share meals with, no one to take pictures with. I wasn’t the type to strike up conversations with strangers. I was tempted to give the whole thing a miss, but the stubborn part of me wouldn’t be able to. I had come this far. The end was so close. Everything I had done up to this point had either taught me something about life or taught me something about myself. A solo trip would do the same.
I wished Noah had more faith-related tasks on his bucket list. Maybe then, instead of drawing naked guys and getting temporary tattoos, I would have done more meaningful things, like go for umrah, the smaller Muslim pilgrimage, and started praying more regularly. It was time to start forging my own plans for how I wanted to improve my life, instead of solely relying on Noah’s list.
‘Hey, jaan, how are you feeling?’ Arjun cooed when I walked into the office. I nearly dropped my bag in shock to see him there before me.
‘Am I still delirious? How are you here before me? I must still be sick!’ I gasped, collapsing into my chair.
‘All right, no need to be so dramatic,’ he grumbled as I laughed and turned my computer on.
‘Hey, everyone.’ I looked around to see Lucy walking up to our trio of desks, trepidation oozing from her. I could see it in the stiffness of her back, the way her eyes darted around the room, landing anywhere but my face, the whiteness of her knuckles clasped tight, the tremble of her lips.
Eventually she made eye contact as she sat down. ‘How are you feeling, Maya?’
‘Fine, thanks, how are you?’ I managed to say, averting my gaze because looking at her was too painful. I loved Lucy so much and she had been a good friend to me over the past few months, but now I wondered if it was all a pretence to get closer to my brother through me. Ever since I found out the truth, I had wracked my brains to see if I could remember any conversations we had had about Malik, but I couldn’t. I had been so busy with the list that everything else was a blur.
‘I’m OK,’ Lucy responded, her voice quiet. Arjun looked at me and then Lucy and back at me, the tension between us heavy, like smog settling around us.
‘Oh, you’re back, are you?’ Sheila was the next to swan into the office, dressed head to toe in white, right down to the white stilettos. Lucy and I would have had a giggle about that before, but I didn’t know what the correct etiquette was between us now.
‘I am indeed,’ I said to Sheila, my tone matching hers. She looked startled by my response and said nothing else as she continued to her office. If it had been possible to slam the door behind her, I’m sure she would have. But the glass offices had no doorframes, so it was physically impossible. Ha.
‘Can we talk at lunch?’ Lucy asked a few minutes later, her voice low. ‘Please?’
I shrugged. ‘If you want.’
The bravado I was feeling when I first got to the office faded with every second that brought us closer to lunch. Watched pots weren’t supposed to boil, but the morning sped past at an alarming speed and soon it was lunchtime. Lucy and I both grabbed our phones and headed to the lift, without looking at each other or Arjun. Once we exited the building and were onto the busy street below, I turned to face her. I was done with playing games, beating around the bush, brushing things under the rug and every other avoidance idiom.
‘Why did you hide the fact that you were dating my brother from me?’ I asked plainly, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. Lucy winced. She clearly wasn’t prepared for how direct I was going to be.
‘I-I’m sorry, Maya,’ she stammered. ‘I really am. There were so many times I wanted to tell you .?.?.’
‘And what? The timing was never right?’ I looked away. ‘Be honest with me, Lucy. Were you trying to get to my brother through me? Is that the whole reason you’ve been so nice and helpful towards me?’
‘No! Not at all!’ Lucy shook her head vehemently, a stricken expression on her face. ‘I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. He didn’t want to complicate things more and I had to respect his wishes, Maya.’
‘And what about me? Where was the respect for me?’ I tried hard to keep the bitterness and pain out of my voice as I stared at her face, analysing every twitch, trying to deduce whether I was being played.
‘Maya, I swear I never wanted to hide it from you, but he’s your brother, he got priority over what he wanted you to know. He was adamant that his family shouldn’t know about us. And if I’m honest, I was also scared of telling you. I didn’t want my issues with Malik to get in the way of our relationship.’
I searched Lucy’s clear blue eyes that were filling up with tears and I knew she was telling the truth. She began to cry and I pulled her into a hug.
‘Shall we eat s-something?’ Lucy sniffled after a few minutes of ruining my flimsy, pale blue cotton shirt with her tears and snot.
‘Come on, let’s get a quick Pret.’
We grabbed a sandwich and coffee and she filled me in on how she met Malik at some exhibition, how she recognised him as my brother from an old Instagram post of mine, how he slid into her DMs after. How guilty she felt when she saw him dropping me off at Finsbury Park. I didn’t want to know too many details, but it was clear that she was really into him. But the fact that he was still hiding her from everyone made me wonder if he was ready to take things further. I didn’t say this to her though. As angry as I was towards Malik, it wasn’t my place. I kept my mouth shut and decided that the next time I saw him, I would have it out with him. I was on a roll, after all.
The text from Zakariya came through as I was packing my bag and getting ready to leave the office:
ZAKARIYA: Salaams Maya, are you going to be at Arabic tonight? Can we talk?
I opened my mouth to ask Lucy what to do and then found myself closing it. Now that I knew about her and Malik, I felt weird telling her all my private business. We were friends and I had forgiven her, but it would take me a while to get used to the change in dynamics. I wasn’t ready to articulate what I was feeling either. How confused I felt when I got home last night. How I hated seeing Zak with another woman, even though I was with another man. How irrational the whole thing was.
Sure, I replied, swallowing away all the conflicting emotions. See you then.
My insides were wrought with nerves after Arabic, as I walked out of the building and into the cool night. My cotton shirt gave me enough comfort during the day when it was warm, but now that the sun had gone down and the sky was dark and brooding, it didn’t feel like it was enough. I felt Zakariya approach before I heard his voice, causing a chill to run down the length of my body. I couldn’t be sure if it was the temperature or seeing him that was making the hairs on my body stand on edge.
‘Assalaamu Alaikum,’ he said in his low voice. It was different to Noah’s; deeper, slower. Noah’s voice was always laced with excitement, but I had yet to hear Zakariya show enthusiasm for anything.
‘Wa Alaikum Salaam,’ I replied, turning to face him. ‘How are you?’ He looked tired and somehow older than when we first met. I wondered if I did too. I felt like I had aged a decade in the past ten months.
‘I’m OK, Alhamdulillah. Shall we go and get some food?’
‘Sure. Can we go to that ghetto Bengali place again? I couldn’t eat properly last time because of the stupid Whole 30 thing.’
Zakariya nodded and we walked side by side in silence – and not the comfortable type. There seemed to be some sort of frisson in the air and whenever my arm, covered by the thinnest fabric, brushed against his, he snatched it away as if it was contagious. I wondered when he was going to mention our awkward run-in and decided not to bring it up myself. While a part of me was dying to know what the deal was with that girl and if it was serious and if she was the real reason why he disappeared on me, the other part of me wasn’t ready to have the conversation. I would have to explain who Noah was to me and it all felt too complicated to go into.
‘So .?.?. how’s your week been?’ I asked when we entered the restaurant, the strong scent of curry engulfing us. My stomach growled immediately in response, loud enough for him to hear, and I tensed it, begging God to make it stop.
If Zakariya had noticed the rumbles emanating from my belly, he was too much of a gentleman to point it out. He pulled out a chair for me and, as I sat down, my belly groaned again, louder this time.
‘Hungry?’ he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. So much for being a gentleman, but I didn’t care because as he smiled, his entire face lit up and transformed. I wished he would do it more.
‘What gave you that impression?’ I rolled my eyes playfully. ‘I haven’t eaten properly in days. I’m marvin’.’
We collected our plates and began helping ourselves to the buffet curries. Unlike the last time, I piled my plate high with everything I fancied, not caring what Zakariya might think of me. If he thought I was a greedy pig, he didn’t say so. Not that he would call me a pig. It wasn’t a particularly Muslim-friendly insult.
‘This is so good,’ I mumbled, my mouth full of rice and mutton curry.
‘Why haven’t you been eating?’ he asked, not looking at me as he tackled his own plate, also piled high.
‘Oh, no reason,’ I replied breezily. ‘I’ve just been busy.’
My breeziness was clearly less of a breeze and more of a sticky, humid air, clinging to everything around it, because Zakariya looked right through the facade.
‘You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,’ he said gently. ‘But if you do, I’m a pretty good listener.’
So I told him. I told him about Malik and Lucy, about Sheila, about my parents, about growing up in the shadows, overlooked, my growth stunted and hidden under Malik’s shine. I told him how I felt like a useless, unaccomplished burden and how I had originally started therapy because it was on the list, but now it was changing me and my perspective and I didn’t know if that was a good thing. Now I had a voice; I had started speaking up for myself and people didn’t know how to react to it.
‘Do I sound completely ridiculous?’ I asked, brushing away a stray tear that had the nerve to show itself at the most inopportune moment.
‘You could never sound ridiculous to me,’ Zakariya said, so solemnly that I couldn’t help but laugh at his tone. ‘But if I may: choose who you keep around you carefully. It’s amazing how many people no longer find you useful when you’re harder to control.’
I stared at Zakariya in awe, my spoon frozen in front of my mouth, which was slightly open. ‘That’s so deep,’ I managed to say and he smiled his half-smile again, which was becoming cuter by the second.
‘I have my moments,’ he shrugged modestly and I had to stop myself from reaching across the table and squeezing his arm. He was seeing someone and so was I. It wasn’t right.
‘How are things with you?’ I asked as we tucked into our second serving of dinner.
‘Well,’ he began, his tone sombre, ‘I wanted to meet you tonight to explain about yesterday, in Ally Pally.’
‘Oh, there’s nothing to explain,’ I replied casually, when inside, I felt anything but. ‘You were on a date and so was I. There’s nothing to say.’
‘OK then,’ he replied, looking at me warily. ‘Was that the guy you mentioned you were going on a “kinda date” with?’
‘Yes,’ I replied uncomfortably.
‘Looks like things aren’t on the “kinda” vibe anymore. You looked pretty into him.’ He looked pained as he said this and my hackles rose. He was with a girl himself! And how could he discern how ‘into’ Noah I was after seeing us together for a split second?
‘I am,’ I retorted. ‘And you seemed pretty into your lady friend. Which is weird as you told me that you’re moving to Dubai. Unless you’ve changed your mind?’
‘I’m still going,’ he replied, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.
‘How’s that going to work?’ I said, my tone sharper than I had intended it to be.
Zakariya took a moment to respond and I watched his face. He looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not going forever. If it’s meant to be, it will survive the distance.’
There was a pause as I digested this information. I suddenly felt sick and pushed my plate aside, the annoyance I had felt towards him dissipating.
‘When are you leaving?’ Though I tried to keep my tone light, I felt anything but. I felt heavy, like an anchor, stuck.
‘September.’ His voice was quiet for someone who was about to embark on an exciting new chapter, possibly with a love interest.
‘That’s soon. There’s what, two months to go? How do you feel?’
‘Nervous. A little sad.’ He looked at me then and though his stony expression was difficult to read, like it always was, there was something about the droop of his eyes and mouth that felt as though he really was sad.
‘Why are you sad? Family? Your lady friend?’
‘Partly. I’ll miss them for sure. But can you stop calling her my lady friend? This isn’t the nineteenth century.’
‘They’ll come out to visit you,’ I tried to reassure him, ignoring the latter part of his response. ‘You know what it’s like. Anyone who flies with Emirates will stop in Dubai in transit on the way to Bangladesh or wherever. You’ll see people all the time.’
Zakariya put down his spoon then and looked me straight in the eye.
‘What if I don’t get to see the people I want to see?’ he asked, his deep voice so low it was barely more than a growl.
Swallowing nervously, I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘Who do you want to see?’ Was he implying what I thought he was, or was I completely misreading the situation?
Breaking off eye contact, as though looking at me was too difficult a task, Zakariya said nothing. The silence, however, spoke louder to me than anything he could have said. Not knowing how to respond, I also stayed quiet until he started talking about something else, and we both pretended that nothing had changed between us.
But everything had changed.