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Page 9

by Emma Nichols


  ‘Holy heavens.’ Iman stopped pacing the lawn and started frantically rubbing her clammy hands down her dress.

  ‘He’s cool about it.’ Amena raised her eyes and scrunched her face.

  ‘What was that face for?’ Iman asked.

  ‘Well, they’re worried about you of course. What it will mean for you, and, well, a little concerned as to what people might say, or do…’

  Iman’s jaw widened as Amena reeled off the list of concerns. What had she done? ‘Well, no one needs to worry. There’s nothing I can do about it no matter how I feel.’ Her words conveyed with certainty the decision her mind had decreed, her eyes, on the other hand, revealed the empty soul, whose heart lay broken and bleeding.

  Amena stared at the pain that was cutting her sister into small pieces and gripping at her own heart. ‘Don’t say that Immy. Please don’t say that. The world is changing.’

  ‘Maybe out there,’ Iman indicated towards the horizon. ‘But here.’ She was shaking her head. ‘Here, Syria, if anything it’s getting worse.’

  ‘I love you,’ Amena said, standing and pulling Iman into her arms.

  Iman fell into the embrace with a deep sigh. ‘I love you too; all of you,’ she added, allowing the tears to fall.

  *

  ‘I’ve asked the company to book us a room,’ Kate shouted above the cacophony in the busy city street, stepping into the waiting car.

  Ash frowned.

  ‘To stay overnight! One each,’ she qualified. ‘We shouldn’t travel back tonight. You know where the Sheraton is, I assume?’

  Ash squeezed a smile. ‘Sure. It’s not far.’

  ‘It’s too late, and it’ll be dark soon, so I made an executive decision,’ Kate added.

  Ash mumbled and nodded, her eyes fixed on the chaotic evening traffic. It wouldn’t be dark for another two hours, and the sandstorm had already died away, but feeling tired she wasn’t about to argue. She pulled up outside the grand hotel - the suited doorman contrasting with her faded jeans causing her to fidget. He held out his hand with a pleasant smile, and she gave him the keys to the car. Kate joined her, linked arms, and dragged her towards the reception desk.

  ‘No, no luggage, and we’ll find our way thank you,’ Kate stated to the concierge. ‘We need to go and shop,’ she added, at his bemused glare. Ash grinned sheepishly.

  Kate turned the key in the lock and stepped into the large suite with adjoining bedrooms. She threw herself onto the double king-size bed, landing on her back, and stared at the ceiling. ‘Oh that feels so good,’ she said, patting the space beside her.

  Ash moved slowly to the edge of the bed, sat, and then flopped onto her back, her legs still dangling to the floor. The soft quilt and mattress cushioned her body, and she released a long sigh. She lay, staring into space for a few moments. ‘We need to get some clothes for tomorrow,’ she said.

  Kate turned on her side, resting on her elbow, head in hand. ‘Or, we could just get naked and let the concierge sort it for the morning,’ she said, a wicked twinkle lighting up her green eyes.

  Ash sat bolt upright. ‘Ummm.’

  Kate laughed. ‘There are robes,’ she said. ‘And we could spend some time in the spa. I wonder how long it will take them to turn our clothes around,’ she pondered aloud.

  Ash stood. ‘I’ll get changed then,’ she said, stepping through to her room.

  Kate jumped to her feet and picked up the phone. The bellboy was on his way. Within two minutes both women stood in a white gown and slippers, and a small pile of clothes tucked into a white plastic bag sat waiting.

  Ash answered the door to Kate’s room and was politely ushered out of the way by the incoming trolley hosting a bottle of champagne and a plate of hors-d'oeuvres. ‘I don’t think…’ she started.

  ‘It’s okay I ordered them,’ Kate interrupted, directing the trolley and handing over the washing bag. ‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling sweetly and handing over a Syrian ten-pound note.

  The young man’s eyes bulged, his grin widened, and he swiftly exited the room.

  Ash looked at her quizzically. ‘They’ll turn our things around in ninety minutes, so I took the liberty of ordering us a drink. Then, I thought we’d get dressed and maybe go out to dinner.’

  ‘What happened to the spa?’ Ash asked.

  ‘I thought dinner might feel… more comfortable for you,’ she responded, lowering her eyes a fraction.

  Ash tilted her head and studied the wavy red hair. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Would you like a glass of champagne?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Sure.’ Ash approached the trolley, her arms wrapped around her body, releasing one hand to take the offered drink. ‘Cheers,’ she said, raising the glass in a toast. Sipping the drink, she recoiled at the bubbles. She would never get used to Champagne and much preferred a beer, but she appreciated the gesture and persevered with the drink. ‘So, how did the meeting go?’ she asked, breaking her gaze from Kate’s intense stare.

  Kate frowned. ‘That’s boring. Tell me more about what you’ve been up to the last ten years.’ She placed the bottle into the ice bucket and moved across the room, easing herself into the lounger and relaxing her head back.

  Ash followed and sat on the couch opposite her. ‘There’s nothing to say,’ she said, knowing Kate wasn’t going to back down that easily. But, there really was nothing to tell.

  9.

  Iman slid the last small piece of decorated paper in front of her, placed an almond-topped sweet inside, and wrapped the paper round, twisting each end, and put the sweet into the tin. Her fingers traced the layer of candies with the lightest of touch. I hope she likes them. The thought sent a flush of heat to the butterflies dancing in her stomach.

  ‘Excuse me!’

  The unexpected voice caused her to jump, her hand tumbling sweets onto the surface. She scrabbled for a cloth to cover the gift then turned like a scolded child.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’

  Ash’s blue eyes caught Iman’s breath, and she was finding it hard to think let alone behave normally. Blood stormed her cheeks.

  Ash watched and started to smile. She’d never seen Iman as edgy. ‘I’m sorry, I really did make you jump,’ she stated.

  ‘Ash.’ Iman’s eyes darted around the room. Ash had never entered the kitchen before, ever. ‘Can I get you anything?’ she asked, stepping away from the covered tin and errant sweets. It was still early, and she hadn’t started on breakfast, instead, taking the time to make and wrap the special gift.

  Ash leaned over, trying to take a peek, and Iman moved subtly to block her view. She smiled at the cook’s slightly defensive posture. ‘Umm, yes. Sorry. I know I’m early,’ she apologised, lowering her eyes to her hands. ‘Could I get some coffee please?’ she asked.

  Iman’s hand covered her mouth. There was always a pot of coffee ready. It was the first thing they did when they arrived at work, and she had forgotten. Her cheeks burned, and her heart pounded. ‘Oh… yes. Sorry, I’ll just…’ she flustered.

  Ash held her hands out, palm down. ‘Hey, it’s okay. I can do it if you point me in the right direction,’ she offered.

  ‘No, no,’ Iman insisted. She glanced down, ensuring the sweets were covered, before seeking out the ground coffee. ‘It’s my job,’ she stated.

  Ash frowned. Iman seemed unsettled. ‘Hey, it’s okay, there’s no rush,’ she said, putting a hand on her arm.

  Iman froze at the burning sensation shooting up into her shoulder and down her spine. Her breathing stopped, and her eyes opened, consuming the sight in front of her, challenging every muscle in her body to hold her upright.

  Ash removed her hand quickly. ‘Sorry, I err.’ She took a step back, thrown by the electric connection that had hit her in the chest and caused her throat to clamp.

  Iman fought the sinking feeling in her gut as a result of the absence, and smiled, grabbing the coffee. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine. Honestly, I should have sorted the coffee already.’
<
br />   ‘Right,’ Ash said, slowly backing out of the kitchen. ‘Thanks.’ Lingering at the counter, watching through the porthole window into the kitchen, she couldn’t wipe the soft smile from her face or stop the pounding in her chest. Well, that was weird.

  Iman spun through the door at a pace; her eyes firmly fixed on the coffee machine. She lifted the pot and shot back into the kitchen, returning with it filled with the cold water. Within moments the machine started to gurgle, and coffee began to drip through the filter. She glanced at Ash. ‘Can I get you some breakfast?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll wait til it’s ready,’ Ash said, pausing, still staring into the captivating light-brown irises. ‘I was wondering…’ she paused again.

  Iman’s heart thumped, and the shaking in her stomach was fast approaching her hands. She cleared her throat, waiting for Ash to continue.

  Ash glanced around the room. ‘Um, you know you said about going to the souk?’ she began.

  Iman released the breath that had lodged in her throat. ‘Yes,’ she said, quietly.

  Ash’s fingers twitched, and she tried to hold Iman’s worried gaze. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to go tomorrow? I mean…’

  ‘Yes, I’d love to,’ Iman blurted, the beaming smile, lighting up her face, instantly replacing the tension of moments ago.

  Ash smiled, relieved. ’Good.’ She stood just grinning and staring, unwilling to make the first move away.

  Iman stood, paralysed, smiling, her heart still pounding.

  ‘Right, I’ll get that coffee,’ Ash said eventually, breaking the trance, and indicating with a tilt of her head in the direction of the machine as it huffed the hot water through its filter.

  ‘Of course.’ Iman rubbed her hands on her apron. ‘I’d better get breakfast prepared,’ she said, glancing briefly towards the kitchen.

  The awkwardness shifted when Ash took a step towards the coffee machine. ‘Tomorrow,’ she confirmed.

  Iman couldn’t pull her gaze away. Suddenly she flushed, turned into the kitchen, and continued straight through to the restroom.

  *

  Ash leaned against the wall, absorbing the gentle heat from the rising sun, listening to the familiar chirping of crickets. She sipped at the hot drink - the sudden hit of caffeine meeting with the heady, floating, sensation in her mind, drifting into a beautiful dream. She groaned outwardly.

  ‘Aww, hell, fess up, Ash! You jes gotta share that thought,’ Craig said. Squinting his eyes, he studied Ashley carefully. ‘Didn’t realise the trip was that good,’ he added.

  Ash frowned and slapped him on the arm. She and Kate had been back two days, and she hadn’t had cause to groan, at least not in that way!

  ‘We gonna get t’ fixin’ this raft?’ he asked.

  ‘Yep,’ she responded, taking the offered cigarette and drawing down to catch the flame. ‘You’re going to have to follow instructions,’ she teased, eyeing his bandaged hand.

  He splayed his fingers wide in a demonstration of his improved movement. ‘See, better already,’ he said, dismissing any implication that he might still be in pain, though the tension in his face said, it hurt.

  She sipped her coffee. ‘Yeah right,’ she said.

  ‘Anyway, how come ya‘s up so early?’ he asked, wiping at the beads of sweat that had already started to form on his forehead.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ she said, a wry smile appearing.

  ‘Wouldn’t have anythin’ t’ do with that groan, would it?’

  ‘Fuck off,’ she responded, teasingly, slapping him on the arm. ‘C’mon, let’s get breakfast and get out of here.’

  He draped his arm over her shoulder and she steadied herself with an arm around his waist, and they squeezed through the door laughing. He placed a friendly kiss on the top of her head as they approached the counter.

  Iman placed the dishes of fruit on the shelf, the chilled air filtering across their surface. She was aware of Ash’s presence before the movement of the two engineers caught her eye. Her stomach lurched, a wave of anxiety burned in her chest, and her mind went blank. She hesitated to look up, turned, and ran into the kitchen, barely able to breathe. She couldn’t bring herself to watch the two of them laughing together and holding each other. Amena was wrong. The mantra repeated itself in her head, her shaking hands working frantically to load the pastries onto a tray, her heart aching.

  ‘Morning.’ Niomi’s chirpy voice and vivacious energy jolted her out of her gloomy reflections, and she locked eyes with her.

  ‘Morning,’ she said, in an upbeat a tone as she could muster, missing the mark by a million light years.

  Niomi didn’t notice; bounded across to Iman’s side, picked up a pastry and placed it between her swollen lips. ‘Yum,’ she said. ‘Shall I take them out?’ she added, putting on her apron.

  ‘Thanks,’ Iman responded flatly, her eyes fixed on Niomi’s vibrant, flushed state. She’d never seen her in such high spirits this early in the morning. She stepped into the pantry as Niomi picked up the tray. When she returned with a bowl of eggs, Niomi was in the restaurant; her attention entirely focused on the dark-haired field-technician, whose sky blue eyes were notably darker than usual.

  Iman cracked the eggs and whisked them, added the chopped parsley, onions, and her special-spice-mix, and stood the bowl by the hotplate, waiting for the oil to heat. The dark shadow in her mind wouldn’t lift. The sizzling sound and lightly spiced aroma lifted her slightly, as she stirred the mixture in the heavy metal pan. She could never let her passion for food to die, no matter how low she felt.

  Niomi bounced back through the door and grabbed the cooked eggs, her desire to be front-of-house outweighing the tasks she needed to perform inside the kitchen.

  Iman sighed and started on the long list of things to prepare for lunch.

  *

  ‘You’re…’ She couldn’t find the right word. ‘Happy,’ Iman said, staring quizzically at Niomi, who had spent the best part of the morning hopping and skipping around the kitchen, and even humming to herself, and looking as if she were glowing.

  ‘I am,’ Niomi responded, holding Iman’s gaze across the kitchen. ‘We did it,’ she said, unable to contain her excitement any longer.

  ‘Did what?’ Iman asked, her eyes searching Niomi’s sparkling gaze. The penny dropped. ‘Oh no!’ Her hands covered her mouth, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  ‘What? You should be pleased for me.’ Niomi defended.

  ‘You… slept with Zack,’ she whispered, her tone held tension not joy.

  ‘Yes I did, and it was…’ Niomi tried to continue, standing taller and beginning to strut.

  ‘What if you…’ Iman let out. She stopped, calmed herself, and started again. ‘What if you get pregnant?’ she whispered, with no less intensity in her voice.

  ‘I won’t.’ Niomi responded, sticking her chin out dismissively.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Zack said he’d be careful.’

  ‘Please, tell me he used protection! Iman begged.

  Niomi’s eyes dropped to the floor.

  ‘Oh no!’ Iman gasped. She ran across to Niomi and held her shoulders firmly, bringing them face-to-face. ‘Look at me.’

  Niomi’s head lowered but she held Iman’s gaze. Defiance, replaced by fear, she looked like the child that she was.

  Iman lifted her chin a little. ‘Listen, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you need to answer them honestly, okay?’

  Niomi blinked.

  ‘Did he use any protection?’

  Niomi’s head slowly rocked back and forth, in response.

  ‘Did he…’ Iman breathed in deeply. This wasn’t a conversation she was used to having, or had any desire to have, but she needed to know what had happened. ‘Did he… you know…’ she was gesturing with her eyes towards Niomi’s crotch, ‘inside you?’ she asked, trying to give Niomi her full attention. The tears filling Niomi’s eyes spoke for themselves.

  The quivering turned
into a full-on quake and Niomi sobbed. Her knees buckled, and Iman caught her. The ecstasy of the morning had shattered into the spinning reality that now consumed her mind.

  ‘What was she thinking? Zack had promised. Her wide-eyes stared up at Iman, pleading for a solution.

  ‘We’ll sort something out,’ Iman promised, with as much authority as she could muster. There was no way Niomi could see a local doctor. ‘Wait here,’ she said, darting into the dining room, scanning the familiar table and finding it empty. She shot back through the kitchen, out the back door and across to Ash’s house.

  ‘Hey, is everything okay?’ Ash asked, staring at a wide-eyed, rosy-cheeked and panting cook. Their previous interaction had been a little odd, but something else had changed since then. ‘What’s up?’ she asked again, waiting for Iman to catch her breath.

  ‘Can you help me?’ Iman begged.

  Ash’s heart raced. ‘Is everything okay? Are you okay?’ Her blood was beginning to burn her skin, as she considered the possibilities. ‘Come in,’ she said.

  ‘I’m okay. It’s Niomi. She needs your help.’

  Ash’s eyes locked onto Iman. The sense of relief smacked her in the face, and she released a long breath. Thank god. ‘Come through. What’s happened?’ The raft would have to wait.

  10.

  Ash poured a glass of water and handed it to Iman. Her breathing had calmed, but a slight twitch persisted at the corner of her right eye. Ash studied the movement with curiosity, momentarily distracted from her thoughts as to how to solve the problem. Niomi couldn’t risk the possibility of pregnancy, no matter how slight.

  ‘Please, can you help her?’ Iman begged.

  Ash admonished herself. Iman’s stunning eyes and display of vulnerability was having a strange effect on her ability to concentrate. She licked her lips, trying to quench the dry feeling in her throat. It persisted. ‘She can’t go to the expat doctors,’ she said. ‘They’re locals.’ She rubbed at her temples, urging the solution to come to her. She’d been fortunate never to have needed the attention of the medics on base, but they too were locals, and also men. Giselle! ‘The doctor at the hospital,’ she blurted.

 

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