Sheikh's Secret Child

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Sheikh's Secret Child Page 4

by Lynn, Sophia


  She snoozed her alarm several times, but at last it became clear that no matter what, she needed to get up and rise to the occasion. She rose and showered, brushing her teeth while wincing at her face in the small sliver of glass hung over the sink. She looked slightly ill, but she thought it was more than that. She looked unhappy, and that more than anything made her look slightly ghoulish.

  Penny shook her head. There was nothing to be done about it.

  She dressed, wincing again at the sight of the green suit. It was so beautiful, but she wasn't sure if she would ever wear it again. For a brief moment, she wondered if the two women at the shop would take it back, but that felt terrible, as if she was abandoning something.

  She dressed in her favorite charcoal gray dress, keeping her eyes away from the green as best she could. It was time to be brave, to move on with things.

  That resolve lasted as long as as it took her to get to the steps of the school. There were two teachers chatting on the steps. She had no idea what they were talking about, but the moment she came up the steps, they gave her identical looks of pity and amusement and moved away without a word. It startled her badly enough that she nearly froze, but then with a gulp, she continued up. She had never been amazing friends with them, but they had always traded happy hellos before. Apparently, that was now a thing of the past.

  Remember, you have done nothing wrong, she told herself. She had not acted inappropriately. All she had done was show up for what she thought was a real job, only to find out that the man offering it expected her to do her work on her back. She had slapped him, walked out and kept her dignity. If anyone asked her what had happened, that was exactly what she would tell them.

  Throughout the day, however, she realized no one was going to ask her anything. People peered at her around corners, laughed behind her back and grew suspiciously silent when she approached.

  It's just like being the weird kid at school, she told herself. You survived that, you will survive this.

  It was a relief when the first class of the day showed up, and when the children greeted her with their sweet voices, she felt a surge of gratitude as she stood up to introduce the lesson.

  There was nothing sly or underhanded about the children she taught, and right then, she could feel a deep love for all of them. Sometimes, she wondered whether she would ever be a mother, but right then, it was decided for her. Penny knew she loved children, and she always would.

  "All right, everyone, let's talk about music today!"

  She had some of her favorite English-language songs cued up, and she grinned as the students fell under the spell of the bright pop songs. They might not have understood all of the words, but a catchy beat was universal, and she could even see a few of them wiggling in their seats with the idea of dancing.

  The day was progressing, and she had almost managed to forget her predicament, or at least was able to put it aside, when a discreet knock occurred at the door. Checking to make sure that the students were still engrossed in their work, she opened the door and was surprised to find Martella there, followed by a woman she didn't know.

  Martella nodded curtly when Penny appeared in the doorway.

  "There is a meeting that needs to take place in my office," she said, sotto voce. "Miss Carlisle here will keep an eye on your class until you get back."

  The blonde woman slipped by Penny as if she didn't exist, taking over the class with charm. Penny had a moment to realize how thoroughly pushed out she was, and then she followed after the principal.

  It took everything she had not to break down and explain to Martella what had happened. She wanted to beg the woman to understand and to force her to acknowledge that it was not Penny's fault. Instead, she swallowed her rage and anxiety and meekly followed along behind Martella, stepping into the now-familiar office.

  To her shock, Ziyad was there, along with a man she did not recognize. The man was older, with salt and pepper black hair, and he smiled at her in an encouraging way. She didn't know what to make of that, and she dropped her gaze, but not before taking a look at Ziyad.

  When she had first met him, he looked as if he was dressed for a party. In fact, if she had been pushed, she would say that Ziyad's natural environment was likely a party or a club of some kind. However, now dressed in a sharp black suit with a serious look in his eyes, he appeared as far as he could from the sly party boy she had met, and she wondered at the change.

  Martella half-turned to Penny, nodding at her. "You know Ziyad Abdul-Azir, of course, but I am not sure if you have been introduced to Mr. Resad al-Nemi."

  Puzzled, she shook hands with Resad, who smiled at her again.

  "I was very pleased when my colleague introduced your ideas to me," he said kindly. "And I was keen to meet such a clever young woman."

  She blinked in surprise, but before she could ask what was going on and make a complete fool of herself, Ziyad cut in.

  "You had such fascinating ideas on how to properly introduce older children to a new language," he said warmly. "And my friend Resad happens to work with matters of education in the Middle East."

  Resad smiled, glancing at Martella as well. "Ziyad was very enthused by her work, and as I do oversee several things regarding the education of the youth in our homeland, I wanted to see for myself. Would it be out of the question to observe her in action? Perhaps afterward I could take both of you out for dinner, and we could discuss education further."

  Penny knew that Martella was not an easy woman to impress, but right now the principal was definitely watching things closely.

  "Of course," she said, slightly stunned, and then they were walking back down the hallway.

  Despite warning herself to be cautious, Penny kept glancing at Ziyad, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She thought he would wink or smile or do something else to let her know what was going on, but instead he walked forward, making light conversation with Resad. From the talk they shared, she came to realize Resad was the minister of some country's educational matters, though beyond that, she did not catch what they were saying.

  What's going on here? Penny wondered slightly desperately.

  They returned to her class, where Miss Carlisle was dismissed, and Penny took her place at the head of the class again. The children grinned to see their favorite restored to them, and with a deep breath, she resumed teaching.

  She was pleased that the lesson was a lively one. She didn't have time to watch the three dark figures who stood off to one side. It felt as if, in some very real way, she was being tested, though on what, she couldn't say. Ziyad's face was perfectly neutral, and for some reason, that disturbed her more than she thought it would.

  Soon enough, however, Penny got swept up in the excitement of her students. She made sure that each one got a chance to try to translate a few lines of an old English song, and whenever one got it right, she cheered with the rest of the class. She had always known that her teaching style was casual and perhaps overly-excited, but it reflected the energy of the children back at them, and it kept them engaged and interested in what was going on.

  By the end of the session, she had broken into a light sweat, and she was laughing with the children as they filed out. Only then did Penny allow herself to look at the adults who were judging her performance, and to her surprise, all three of them wore expressions of interest and delight.

  "I have not been in to see you since you started teaching here," Martella said with a warm smile. "I had no idea you had advanced so much..."

  Penny could have said that was largely due to getting used to the school and learning how the students worked. But she only nodded, smiling a little.

  Resad was more effusive as he came to shake her hand.

  "That is everything that Ziyad told me it was and more," he said warmly. "You really do have a good touch with children, and I would be fascinated to see if what you offer can be replicated in the classrooms at home. Martella, if I may?"

  "Yes?"

 
"Would it be all right for me to sit in on other classes? I have not spent much time studying the schools of Italy, and I have a feeling I might find much to admire."

  Of course Martella said yes, and then all three of them were gone. She was left alone as the first students started trickling into the class, and she wondered what the consequences of that morning would be. It felt as if her head had been removed, rolled around on a roulette table, and then put back on her shoulders.

  She shrugged and realized that she couldn’t spare the brain power to worry about it. She had a class to teach.

  She allowed herself to take a few deep breaths, and then she smiled gamely at her students. It was time to get back to work.

  Chapter Six

  Penny didn't know what the outcome of the meeting was for Ziyad or Resad, but she did know that things changed dramatically for her at the school. Instead of scurrying away when she approached or giving her the cold shoulder, her colleagues came to her on their own, asking for her advice on an issue or her opinion on a ruling.

  She was faintly mystified by it all until one woman who taught the older students mentioned something.

  "Martella told us we could learn something by talking to you, but having an educational minister from the United Arab Emirates show up really clinched it," she said. "And the best part is that they aren't wrong; everything you have suggested has been gold in the classrooms!"

  With a pang, Penny realized that Ziyad and his friend had come to talk her up. Apparently, something she said had gotten through to Ziyad, and in his own way, he had come to make amends.

  She sat on this information for a short while, turning it over, thinking about what she might do, and then she realized something.

  It had been a week since their visit, but the other teachers were still talking about it, and more than one seemed to smile at her more fondly now. Before she had been an unproven quantity, but now things were different. She was someone whose ideas had value, and Penny stood a little taller for it.

  Of course, everything wasn't perfect; in the back of her mind, she knew her popularity was based on a lie.

  For a week, she basked in the acceptance of her colleagues, and then at night, she returned to her small flat to wonder what in the world she was playing at. She was not a gifted teacher. She was patient, and she tried to be kind. Sometimes she had to be stern, and other times she tried to be understanding if she knew a particular child was under a great deal of stress. That was all. That was all any teacher might do.

  Penny felt like a fraud, like someone who had somehow lucked into every good thing that ever happened to her, and though she tried to ignore it, she couldn't make her mind leave it for very long.

  Finally on Saturday, fed up with her own circular musings and the four walls of her flat, she got up and got dressed. Still resolutely ignoring the green suit, she chose her steel blue cotton dress, one with a darker design of sunflowers. Despite the gentle loveliness of the dress, she felt as sharp as a spike as she walked towards the bus.

  Half an hour later, she was back at the museum that had started it all. Penny walked into the galleries, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as she moved under the vaulted ceilings. Here, among the art of the ancients, she knew she would find some kind of peace, even if it was a temporary one, even if her doubts were all waiting for her at the gate. Instead, for once she was able to put it all aside, and she wandered through the bronzes and the paintings, smiling at the ones she recognized and pausing to study the ones she did not.

  She hesitated a moment before she entered the hall of marble statuary. She wondered if she should simply skip it, but then something that seemed older and wiser than she was urged her in.

  She had barely entered that silent space when, as if by instinct, she turned. It was almost anti-climactic when she saw Ziyad sitting on the bench, exactly where he had been when she’d first encountered him. He raised his head as if he was expecting her, and he smiled.

  Penny didn't approach him. There was something a little different about his smile. Whenever he had smiled at her before, there had been something careless and charming about it. This time, the charm was still there, but there was perhaps something wistful about it as well.

  He stood and started towards her, but instead of coming straight up to her, he paused a few feet away, turning to look at one of the marbles instead.

  "She looks sad, doesn't she?" he asked.

  The marble statue he was looking at depicted a young girl, slightly bent at the waist, her hand cupped over her ear. Penny read the plaque, which had been thoughtfully translated into English, and winced.

  "She depicts the story of the deaf girl at Pompeii. She could hear the ground shake and the people screaming, but she could not see the mountain erupt. Instead, she had to make her way to the harbor by sound alone, and most suggest that she did not make it."

  "Ah, so she has every reason to look sad," he said, and Penny glanced at him.

  Once again, he didn't look as if he had been thrown out of some kind of party, though it was still a much more casual look for him. He wore old black jeans that clung to his legs and an olive sweater that seemed slightly threadbare. It was strangely humble attire for a man who moved in such high circles and who could throw around such large amounts of money.

  "Why are you here?" she found herself asking.

  He glanced at her, and this time there was a bit of self-deprecating amusement in his eyes.

  "Are you asking in your subtle way whether I have been kicked out of another house party and found myself lost?" he asked, and it was so close to the truth that she blushed.

  Ziyad chuckled. "Even when you are trying not to insult me, you are adorable. How are things at the school?"

  "Fine, the kids are getting into a geography unit right now... Can I say how strange this is?"

  He raised an eyebrow at her. "How strange what is? To meet at a museum? Surely not. We have done so twice now, and there is nothing terribly strange about us."

  "Well, you should speak for yourself, because I've been told my entire life that there's something strange about me," she retorted. "No, it just feels strange to talk about something as simple and as mundane as art when there's...there's so much history between us."

  He nodded, and then to her surprise, he offered her his arm.

  "Would you walk with me for a short while? I promise there is nothing untoward about it. If you like, I will only walk you to the end of the gallery, and there, if you wish, we will simply take our leave."

  Tentatively, she took his arm, following him as they wandered aimlessly among the statues. Penny was just thinking that it was going to be a silent walk when he started to speak.

  "I am not very often told bad news," he began. "This can come of being a man who is terrifying, but I think in my case it is simply because people assume I will not listen. In my homeland, I have a...certain reputation, I suppose I should say."

  "That you like to have a good time," she suggested, and she wondered if he winced slightly at that.

  "Exactly so," he agreed. "I generally do as I please, and people praise it. Whether they only see part of the picture, or they are simply looking to see if I will be bowed by flattery to their ends, I am not told no very often."

  He paused, and when he continued, his voice was a little lower. "So imagine my surprise when we met at my apartment."

  "I...surprised you?"

  "Beyond measure," he admitted. "You shouted at me in a way that I have never been shouted at before, and more than that, you explained every way in which I had been wrong and in which you would suffer for it."

  "I see." Penny should have felt vindicated, but instead, all she felt was a great sadness. Though she might not know what way things should be, she knew they shouldn't be like that.

  "After your crushing set down, as I think such things are called, I thought for a long while. I wanted to forget what you had said, to say that it was untrue and I was simply acting in good faith. Afte
r some thought, however, I realized I could not say that and still think of myself as a man."

  She looked up at him sharply to discover whether he was making fun of her, but as far as she could tell, he was entirely serious.

  "I decided that I needed to fix what had happened before, but at first I had no idea how to do it. I'll admit it made me more than a little nervous to confront a problem that I had no idea how to solve. You might laugh a little at this, but the truth of the matter is that I do hold a fair amount of responsibility when I'm at home. People come to me with problems, and I usually have the ability to make things right. This was new."

  "So you decided to call in Resad?"

  "Yes and no. He isn't here as if it were some kind of favor to me. He had called me a few days previous to discuss an entirely different matter, and suddenly I remembered this place."

  She blinked, looking around at the silent statues. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, I remembered how the children listened to you. I remembered how eager they were to learn and how excited they were to be here."

  "They were children on a field trip," she said in confusion. "Of course they were excited to be here. They probably would have been excited about a parking lot if it got them out of school."

  He shook his head. "I don't agree, and I know Resad doesn't either. My country produces some brilliant minds, but in some ways, we are very old-fashioned. We are a very strict system, where teachers are respected as holy men are, and while that does make for a disciplined student, it doesn't always make for a very fiery or creative one."

  "So you decided that my teaching style, or rather my lack of it, was a good remedy for that?" Penny wasn't entirely sure she was being complimented.

  "Exactly!" he said, and there was such truth in his face that she felt compelled to believe him. "What you have, Resad wants to learn about it. We went through the school, and we could not find students as enthusiastic or as focused as yours, and, well, that was impressive."

 

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