Today Mama disappeared again into the black fog, the same fog that had swallowed her before. I was heartbroken each time the darkness stole her away, but today, for the first time, I was angry. Ricky was coming home tomorrow. So why now? Why had she succumbed to the darkness? Why alarm and upset us this way when we could all have been rejoicing instead?
I was also angry that I had failed to pick up on the signs that she was falling again. I had gone instead to meet Nick with a heart as light and free as a butterfly and no hint of what was to come later in the day.
But then tonight, when I was cleaning up in Masri’s after we had closed for the evening, Ahmo Fariz called my name in an urgent voice. I dropped the mop and ran out of the kitchen to find him kneeling by Mama’s and my bed. He was doing his best to comfort Mama with soothing words, but when she became like that there were no words that helped.
‘My baby, my baby, I’m sorry I betrayed you. I’m sorry they killed you because of me. Allah, why did you spare me? Why did you spare me?’ Mama wailed as she lay curled up on her side rocking herself, clutching a photograph of Noor to her chest.
Ahmo Fariz stood up, his knees creaking. ‘Do you think we should call the doctor? Or take her back to the hospital?’ he whispered.
‘Let me watch her tonight and we shall decide tomorrow. You go now, Ahmo Fariz. It is late and you are tired. Leave me with her.’
‘Are you certain? I can stay as long as you need.’
I could see the fatigue in his eyes and the way his shoulders drooped.
‘Yes, I am certain. Go and get some sleep. Mama will be fine and so will I.’
‘Call out if you need me, habibti.’ He kissed the top of my head. ‘Perhaps sleep with your bedroom door open and I will leave mine open too.’
When Ahmo Fariz left, I checked inside the top vanity drawer in the ensuite. I found what I expected to find. There they were – eight more tablets than there should have been in the packet. It was only because I had been so preoccupied with Nick that I did not prevent this from happening. I grunted at my reflection in the mirror, ‘Look what happened because you lost concentration!’
I knew Mama’s patterns. I should have realised yesterday at the hospital that she had stopped taking the medicine. Every time, it was the same. Mama would secretly stop taking the medicine that controlled the depression. And for a short time she would be back to being my old mama again, the one who talked and listened and laughed. But afterwards she always, always disappeared into the black fog.
I understood why she hated the medicine. Truly I did. I understood when she complained that it made her brain feel numb and small and that it left her without anything valuable to say. I understood when she told me that the medicine deadened the pain in her heart so effectively that it actually stopped her feeling anything at all, as if she had a hollow tin chest.
But none of that was as terrible as the state of her now. Mama had no idea how bad she became when she stopped taking the tablets. I wished she could see herself like this. How much she scared me.
‘Yalla, ya Mama. Up you come.’ I hooked my arms under her armpits and helped her to sit up.
Mama sobbed against my chest. ‘Anwar, why do you make me live against my will? Why won’t you please, please just let me die so I may finally have some rest from this pain and you may finally have a rest from the burden of me? I am no good to you. I provide you with nothing but more grief. Let me go and then you will be free.’
Whenever Mama spoke like that, it was as if she took a knife and stabbed me deep in the soul, so sharp was the pain I felt. When Mama wished she were dead, part of me wished she were dead too. Because she was right, nobody should have to live with the pain that she had to. But I was selfish, and even though she craved the peace that death would bring, I refused to stop fighting to keep her alive.
I could not imagine a life without my Mama in it. So she had no choice. No matter how much she resented it, she had to keep living for me. And to keep living, she had to take the tablets every day. Making sure she took them was my job.
I reached for the glass of water I had put on the bedside table and I pushed out two of the tablets. ‘Swallow, Mama. You will feel better soon. Yalla, swallow. Well done.’
‘I’m sorry, habibti, I’m so sorry I ruined our lives.’
I wiped her nose with a tissue. ‘My life is far from ruined. And one day you will feel the same about yours. Sleep now, Mama. Tomorrow is a new day. Allah ho’akbar, ya Mama – God is great. Yalla, sleep.’
I helped Mama lie back down, took off her slippers and covered her with the sheet. I climbed into bed next to her and stroked her knotted hair. Her rapid breathing slowed down and her eyelids stayed closed.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled one last time before she fell asleep.
‘I am the one who should be sorry, ya Mama,’ I whispered. ‘I am the one who did the ruining.’
Tante Rosa knocked on the door. She looked long and hard at Mama. Then she looked at me. ‘Allah is punishing you for sneaking around with that footballer. He is punishing you by making your mother unwell.’
It was a gift she had, Tante Rosa – the way that she always managed to say exactly the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment. A true gift.
I had told Nick about my troubles with Tante Rosa earlier today. It was almost as if she’d heard my complaints to him and wanted revenge, because she was waiting for me when he drove me home later.
She stood by the door, and as I came out of the car, she began screaming across the car park. ‘Do not come crying to me when you end up alone, Anwar. No man will ever touch you after you have given your innocence to this non-believer and he has soiled you. Rest assured this Nick Harding will spit you out like an olive pip the minute he has had enough of you! You are a foolish dreamer, Anwar. Do not think I did not see you kissing him in full view of the whole world in his car just now. Listen to your Tante Rosa and wake up before it is too late and you are ruined. It will not just be your poor mother who is insane but you as well.’
The sound of Tante Rosa’s screaming annoyed me but her words had no effect on me. Instead of trying to convince her it was not this way with Nick, I walked straight past her and began the evening’s peeling, grating, slicing, and lemon squeezing. All night, although we worked side by side, I said not a single word to her, nor she to me.
Knowing that Ricky would be coming home, and after the wonderful afternoon I spent with Nick, I thought today could not be a more perfect day, so I was determined not to let Tante Rosa ruin it.
In the end though, how could it be a perfect day when Mama wished for death over life with me?
Mama slept peacefully now and, inshallah, by morning the medicine would have worked its magic once again. I had to remember to give her another tablet the minute she woke up. This was what her doctor recommended we do the last time it happened.
I’d felt sleepy before I even finished cleaning the kitchen tonight, and I had very much been looking forward to my bed. Now I could not be more awake. My mind galloped away with frightening memories of the last time Mama tried to end her life – on her birthday last year.
I shut my eyes tight and made myself think of something wonderful.
The wonderful thing I chose to think about was Bluey. When we arrived at Nick’s house after our swim this afternoon, I heard loud barking from the back garden and my heart jumped for joy. I had not held a dog in my arms for over a year, since leaving Lucky behind in Alexandria. When Nick opened the gate and Bluey came bouncing towards me, I dropped to my knees and he jumped over me while I covered his head in kisses.
Nick laughed, ‘The mutt’s getting more action from you than I ever have! Aren’t you, Bluey? Lucky boy.’
Bluey rolled onto his back and I scratched his stomach just like I used to scratch Lucky’s. ‘Who is walking him while you are on the crutches, Nick?’
‘Ah, nobody yet. I still need to organise a dog walker.’
So of course I offered to be Bluey’s dog walker. I had been excited about our first walk together tomorrow morning but now I sent Nick a text message saying:
My mother is unwell this evening. I am very sorry to cancel the first morning walk with Bluey, but I need to be with her tomorrow morning when she wakes up. So I will not be able to come to your house. By tomorrow evening I expect she will be better and I hope to still have our first date night xx
He did not reply, he must have gone to bed, but at least he would see the message in the morning.
Ahmo Fariz was collecting Ricky from the hospital in the morning and inshallah by the time they arrived home, the tablets would have started to affect Mama so that Ricky could have the special homecoming he deserved. I had prepared all the streamers and balloons and the ‘Welcome Home’ sign and Tante Rosa had baked kunafa so everything was ready.
By tomorrow night, Mama would have taken her medicine and be more settled. I could then have a special night with Nick. I shocked myself with the thoughts I had about him today. So many thoughts!
While Mama lay peacefully asleep beside me, I went over the words she spoke to Noor and me when we turned sixteen.
On that chilly December evening in Alexandria, she sat us down in her bedroom with steaming cups of hot chocolate and said, ‘Sex is just that. It’s sex – nothing more, nothing less. Our culture is obsessed with it and even more obsessed with making laws about who can have it, when they can have it, with whom they can have it and in what way they can have it. But, Noor, Anwar, listen carefully, both of you. The most important thing of all is that it is always your right to say no.’
She took a long sip of coffee from her glass and continued. ‘Respect yourselves. Only have sex if you feel ready, not because you feel pressured. You are letting another person share your body – your precious, sacred body – so make sure that this person is deserving of that.’
Mama spoke with passion. ‘If you share your body with everyone, then it is special to no one. So take your time and be very sure.’ Mama pointed a finger at each of us and continued. ‘Do not make decisions about sex when you are in a man’s arms. Believe me that decisions made then are never wise decisions. But remember this – it is not sex when you are unmarried that will ruin you, like we have all been led to believe. Sex with the wrong person is what can ruin you. Falling in love with someone who is bad for you and having sex with him – that is what can ruin you.’
The only blessing in Noor’s death was that the Mama who was passionate and intelligent and who often gave us important lessons to help us through life was the only Mama she knew.
I took out my journal.
Habibti Noor,
Let me tell you some wonderful things because I need to do that tonight to stop myself from breaking.
I will tell you wonderful things about Nick!
First there is his smell. I have spent a considerable amount of time with my nose close to Nick’s neck and his aftershave fills me with desire.
And then there is his deep, deep voice. You know how people have always been amused at my husky voice? I can only imagine how funny a conversation between the pair of us must sound with my husky voice and his very deep one.
And do you know that he frowns whenever I speak? I asked him why he does this, because I was worried that he did not like the things I was saying. But he replied that it is because he is worried he will miss something. He said it is at times difficult for him to keep up when I speak so quickly with my accent and he wants to be sure he misses nothing.
And then there are his tattoos. My boyfriend has tattoos! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this could ever be possible nor did I imagine just how much I would love them.
He has two dark-blue tattoos, one enormous tattoo of angel wings spread right across his shoulders and another smaller one going up along the inside of his right forearm that has the words Semper Superne Nitens.
When I asked him what these tattoos meant to him, he told me that the one on his arm is Latin for ‘always striving upwards’. He said it is there to remind him to aim higher. And the wings, they are angel’s wings to symbolise that his father is always with him or as Nick said, ‘that my dad has my back’.
Noor, this gave me an idea. Perhaps one day I shall have a tattoo drawn on my skin, too, to honour you and Baba. But I do not want wings and I do not want it on my back. I would like a tattoo somewhere that I can always see it, perhaps on my wrist would be a good place. And I think I would like to symbolise you and Baba with an Ankh to represent our eternal bond. Yes! One day soon this is what I shall do.
I love you my darling sister and I am ever so grateful for our eternal bond,
A x
I tucked the journal back in its place and I took Noor’s photo that was now face down next to Mama and placed it back on the dresser next to Baba and Mama’s wedding photo. I pressed my fingers to my lips, kissed them and touched Baba’s cheek in the photo. It comforted me to know that Nick shared with me the unique pain of losing a father.
In Nick’s house this afternoon we spoke together about our fathers and how much we admired them, what good men they were.
Nick said to me, ‘The night before my dad died, we’d just arrived home from celebrating my mum’s birthday with a huge party on Dad’s boat. He came into my bedroom and stood behind me with both his hands on my shoulders and said, “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you and how happy it makes me to see the man you’ve grown into. Feel my hands here, on your shoulders? That’s where I’ll always be, Nick, right here behind you. I’ll always have your back. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”’
‘Oh, Nick, these are beautiful words to be told before losing a parent. It makes your tattoo even more meaningful. I cannot believe he said these things to you the night before he died. That is incredible. I do not remember the last words my father spoke to me.’
‘He never spoke like that normally. I’m convinced he knew he was about to die,’ Nick said with a heavy voice.
‘But you said he drowned in the ocean. How could he have known that?’
‘He drowned because he had a brain haemorrhage while he was out in the surf. He was a doctor, he would’ve recognised the signs. I went on a research rampage after he died and found out everything I could about aneurysms. They don’t just happen without warning. Dad would have had gradually worsening headaches, like really severe headaches, not regular ones. And he would have had dizziness, confusion, nausea in the days before it happened. He would’ve known something was very wrong.’ He gulped.
‘To have a son like you, he must have been a wonderful man.’
‘He was ten times the man I am that’s for sure. What hurts is that he never knew I got signed by the Rangers. It was Dad’s dream for me, ever since I first put my hands on a footy. But in the end he never knew.’
‘He knows Nick. You can be sure of that.’
‘It’s good to talk to you about this,’ he said. ‘It helps.’
‘And speaking of my father to you helps me too,’ I replied. ‘I do not think it is through luck that you came into Black Salt on Sunday. I think you and I are two people who were destined to find each other.’
‘I think you’re right,’ he agreed. ‘The only person I’ve ever been this open with is my sister, and today I’ve told you things that I’ve never even told her.’
‘You have a sister?’
‘I do, yeah.’ He had a funny expression when he said that.
‘How old is she?’
‘Lily’s twenty-two.’
‘Why are you smiling strangely like that, Nick?’
‘I’m not.’
‘You are not now but you were a second ago. Anyway, I love this name, Lily. In fact, it is my new favourite name. I know a Lily who is a student doctor. She is an angel. And what does she do, your sister Lily?’
He chuckled. ‘She’s a student doctor, but she’s no angel, she’s a complete nutter. You and her will get along just fine.’
‘What is a nutter?’
‘A crazy person.’
‘Are you saying I am also a nutter then, Nicholas Harding, because I will get along just fine with another nutter?’ I gave him a questioning look.
‘No, but you dress the part,’ he laughed pointing at the flared velvet dress I bought for four dollars at Vinnies last year.
‘But you love how I dress. This is what you said only yesterday!’
‘I do, I do.’ He grinned. ‘I love this purple puffy dress. It’s the prettiest purple puffy dress ever,’ he murmured as he leaned closer to me on the couch.
I looked into Nick’s eyes while he played with my fringe and it was then that I made a discovery that caused me to jump up onto my knees on the couch. ‘Nick, does your sister have blonde ringlets down to her waist?’
His funny expression returned. ‘Yes, I believe she does.’
‘And is she a student doctor at a cancer hospital?’
He laughed. ‘Yes, I believe she is.’
‘I know her!’
‘I know you do.’
‘How? How do you know?’ My voice was much louder than usual.
He sat himself up higher. ‘Okay, just before I came to meet you at the pool today, I picked her up from the hospital. On the drive she told me about meeting you and your mum.’
‘Ha!’ I clapped my hands. ‘This is the most wonderful thing! Did you tell her about me?’
He coughed. ‘Kind of. I told her there was someone but I didn’t say who.’
‘Why not? Are you ashamed of me?’
‘Hardly.’ He kissed the tip of my nose. ‘No the reason I didn’t tell her and why I wasn’t going to tell you was because she invited me and ‘the someone’ I’d told her about to her place for dinner tomorrow night. So I thought it would be fun for both of you to have a surprise then.’
‘That is very bad behaviour, Nicholas Harding,’ I pointed my finger at him. ‘Very sneaky and very bad.’
‘Bad behaviour is the best kind of fun, though.’ He kissed me as he rolled the hem of my dress between his fingers before sliding his hand under it to gently caress my inner thigh. ‘See, bad behaviour really is the best kind of fun,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘You’re so sexy.’
Oh how hard it was to stop him when he touched me this way! His hand, so close to my underwear was driving me to distraction. I wanted to guide that hand inside my underwear instead of asking him to stop. But I did ask him to stop.
‘Nick,’ was all I needed to say and he withdrew his hand from under my dress and rested it on my hip.
After we kissed for longer I said to him, ‘So, you didn’t tell your sister about me, but meanwhile I have been telling my twin sister every detail about you.’
He frowned. ‘Hang on, you’ve got a twin sister?’
‘I had one, yes. An identical twin. Now I have a guardian angel. Her name is Noor. I write to her in a journal and every day this week I have been telling her about you.’
‘What happened to her?’
I took a minute to answer. ‘The day that Hamdy strapped a bomb to his chest, Noor was in the back seat of the car.’
‘Oh, God,’ he whispered. ‘I thought it was just your dad who died in that attack.’
‘No, it was Noor, too. So you see, Nick, every time my mother looks at me, looking back at her is Noor. I am a constant reminder to Mama of all that she lost. This is why I wear “nutter” clothes,’ I explained. ‘I choose clothes that are as different as possible from the way my sister dressed. And then last week I had the idea to cut my hair in a style as different as possible to the way Noor styled her hair. These are things I can change. But unfortunately there is nothing I can do to change my face.’ The tears escaped while I spoke. ‘Mama is stuck looking at this face of mine.’
‘I’m glad you can’t do anything to change your face,’ he murmured, stroking my cheek with his thumb. ‘It’s the most beautiful face in the world.’
And he kissed me again. He kissed me until I stopped crying and all I could think about was him, not Noor, not Baba, not Mama, just him.
We kissed so much today that I ended up with a rash around my mouth from his stubble. Another word I learned this afternoon – stubble. I was a big admirer of stubble! I especially enjoyed feeling stubble around my neck and as far down as my collarbones. It excited me just imagining how the feel of stubble would be on my breasts and elsewhere on my body.
One day I would find out. One day but not yet. I did not want to rush into sex with Nick, not because I was afraid of sex but because I was afraid of sex with Nick on account of Mama’s words those years ago about falling in love with the wrong person and giving them the power to ruin you. I was one hundred per cent certain that I was already very much in love with Nick and I knew without doubt that having sex would only cause me to love him more deeply. What if he was the wrong person and I lost him? What would I do then?
I had the evidence before me of what losing love had done to my mama. And a fate like Mama’s was not a fate I wanted for myself. So I would wait until I was certain that I would not lose Nick and only then would I have sex with him. Then and not a moment before.