Payback

by Rosemary Hayes

  ‘I know, Kate. I know, you don’t have to tell me that. But…’ I took a deep breath.

  ‘There’s someone else,’ I whispered, afraid that if I spoke normally, someone in the house might hear me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve met someone I really like and he’s the right background and everything. If it wasn’t for this stupid deal that Baba did, my parents would be sure to approve of him.’

  ‘Ah. That does change things. Does he like you?’

  ‘We’ve only met twice, but yes, yes – I’m sure he does.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘What shall I do, Kate?’

  ‘You’re asking me! Hey, I’m only a non-believing Irish girl. What do I know?’

  I laughed, in spite of myself.

  ‘That’s better. Now listen, I’m coming up to see you.’

  ‘Oh Kate, that’d be great. When?’

  ‘On Tuesday. I don’t have any lectures then. I’ll get the Oxford Tube up to town and meet you at your college.’

  ‘You’re a star!’

  ‘I know I am. Meanwhile, my little friend, don’t do anything stupid. Let’s talk this through when we meet.’

  The next morning, I went downstairs feeling calmer. Despite all the teasing about my way of life, Kate did understand. And she was clear-thinking. I wouldn’t say any more against this boy until I’d spoken to her.

  But Baba had other ideas.

  The next evening, when I came in from college, he was standing in the hall chatting on the phone, beaming with pleasure. He beckoned me over.

  ‘Here she is,’ he said into the phone. Then he handed it over to me. ‘Here, Halima. This is the young man I told you about. He would like to speak to you.’

  I had no time to prepare myself. I picked up the phone. Think of Kate, I told myself. Don’t rock the boat.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, my voice flat.

  He had a deep voice. It was not unpleasant. I let him talk – about himself, about his job, about his prospects and how he’d always known that his father had helped my father. He mentioned this several times: how his father had rescued mine from a difficult situation.

  I answered politely. A good and obedient child. That was how Baba had described me to this man’s father all those years ago.

  I played the part. I asked the right questions and when, at last, I put the phone down, Baba was rubbing his hands together.

  ‘Good girl. You were very polite. What did he say?’

  ‘Oh, he just told me about himself,’ I said. ‘And he’ll phone again.’

  ‘Excellent. You’ll get to know each other.’

  I nodded. But my resolve was hardening. The man had not asked a single question about me, about my studies, my interests, my ambitions. To me, he was typical of so many.

  And this man was not Mahmood…

  I did a lot of thinking in the next few days, before meeting up with Kate. If I refused to consider this man as a husband, there would be trouble. I spoke to Asma, who told me not to go against Baba. Then I spoke to Imran on the phone, thinking that he’d be sympathetic, but he didn’t encourage me to say no, either.

  ‘Wait until you get to know him, Halima. Talk to him some more on the phone. He sounds a good prospect.’

  ‘A good prospect,’ I said bitterly. ‘Is that it?’

  Imran sighed. ‘Look, little sister, if you dig your toes in and refuse to marry him, you know what will happen?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Then don’t do it. I tell you, you don’t want to be cut off, like me. It’s not a lot of fun.’

  I didn’t tell him about Mahmood, and changed the subject. ‘How’s the job?’

  I could almost see him shrugging on the other end of the phone. ‘It’s a job. It pays the rent.’

  And are you seeing any of your old friends?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He hesitated and then gave a harsh laugh. ‘You soon find out who your real friends are.’

  ‘But… you’re not unhappy?’

  There was a long silence. ‘I’m glad to be away from Baba – but it’s not easy being away from the family,’ he said at last. ‘Think very hard before you put yourself in my position, little sister. It would be much, much worse for you.’

  ‘I know,’ I said quietly.

  Was I strong enough to resist my family? Was I right to resist? If I’d never met Mahmood, I might have gone along with the arrangement. The trouble was, I didn’t know what Mahmood felt for me. Even if he did have the feelings I hoped he had, would he support me if I was condemned by my family? He would have to be very strong to do that.

  If only I’d known him longer, if only I knew him better. Every instinct told me that he was the right man for me, but how could I be sure after only two meetings? My head told me I was being stupid and impetuous, that I should toe the line and not stir up trouble. My heart told me something else.

  These thoughts went round and round in my brain as I tossed and turned in bed at night. I longed to see Kate and talk it through with her. I was counting the hours until the following Tuesday.

  And then the guy from Saudi phoned again.

  Baba spoke to him first, before handing the phone over to me. This time I listened to his voice really carefully, trying to picture the man behind it. I tried to ask him some probing questions but he cut me short with a laugh, as though I was a silly child. The more he went on – about his lifestyle in Saudi Arabia, his flat, his car – the more sure I was that I could not live with him.

  And then he said something which made me absolutely certain.

  ‘It’s good that your family is honouring their debt,’ he said. ‘You are owed me.’

  And although he said it with a laugh, my whole body tensed.

  ‘You are owed me’ – as if I was a consignment of goods already paid for.

  I had no doubts now. I could never possibly spend the rest of my life with a man who thought like that.

  Somehow I ended the conversation without losing my temper.

  Baba stroked my cheek. ‘Good girl, good girl,’ he said. ‘And guess what, Halima?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s coming to Pakistan for Khalil’s wedding. So you’ll meet your future husband there. Isn’t that exciting? You can have a magni there!’

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Khalil’s wedding was only a couple of months away. We had met the girl Baba had chosen for him. She was nice enough, plain but pleasant, and she ticked all the right boxes. Khalil had been through the motions, asked her family and there had been a magni, but there was no spark between them. I knew that Khalil still loved his old girlfriend and I felt really sad for his bride-to-be.

  However, once again the families had gone into action. Uncles and aunties here and in Pakistan were busy making preparations for the wedding. And it would be a huge one, with people coming from all over to be there.

  Including the guy from Saudi.

  If I went to Khalil’s wedding in Pakistan, our families would announce our engagement to the world.

  And if I met him, and told Baba I didn’t want to marry him?

  I shuddered. Unlike Asma’s marriage, where she could have refused, this arrangement was different. It was a matter of family honour and I had no choice. If I refused, my father would enforce the marriage – and I knew exactly how he would do that.

  How I had despised those girls at school who had meekly gone off to Pakistan to be married. That would never happen to me, I’d thought. My family’s not like that. They’d never force me to marry anyone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Mahmood

  I’ve never met a girl like Halima.

  As soon as I saw her, at Habib’s wedding, I knew she was different. She intrigued me with her quirky smile and her big eyes flashing with anger as she talked about something that had upset her. She didn’t set out to impress me, not like some of the others. She was just herself: bright, interested – and attractive.

  She even laughed at my jokes!
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  She has plans, too. She wants a good career. She can see beyond all the plotting and matchmaking that goes on amongst the older women. There’s so much more to her than dressing up and flirting to snare some boy into marriage. She’s got a good mind and she could do so much. She’ll go far.

  If she’s allowed to.

  It was great that we met up again at Habib’s place. It was the best evening! We talked and talked – and laughed. I felt we’d never run out of things to say to one another.

  I rang Habib the next day. ‘I really like your sister-in-law,’ I said. And he’d laughed. ‘I think she likes you, too, cousin.’

  But the next time I saw Habib, he told me to put her out of my mind.

  ‘Her dad’s set up a marriage for her,’ he said.

  I hadn’t expected to feel so angry and upset. After all, I’d only met her twice.

  ‘And she’s agreed?’ I asked. I couldn’t believe that Halima would meekly cave in. Especially after the way she’d been with me. She was so open and excited about her course and her future.

  ‘Well, put it like this,’ said Habib. ‘She hasn’t said no.’

  ‘So, what’s the deal. Who is this guy?’

  And then Habib explained.

  I could see it all. Family honour. Is there anything more deadly? But poor girl, what can she do? If she refuses to marry the man, she’ll probably be forced into it anyway. I know how fathers can manipulate their daughters.

  God, what a mess.

  And I can’t do anything to help her. I have no claim on her. I’m good friends with her sister, and she’s told me to keep my nose out of her family’s business.

  For all I know, she may not object to this marriage. Asma’s right. It is nothing to do with me, but I wish I knew if it is what Halima wants.

  And I wish I could put those laughing eyes out of my mind. And the way her face turns from solemn to mischievous when she smiles.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Halima

  Tuesday at last! Kate and I met in the college canteen. Impetuous as ever, she rushed over and hugged me. Then she held me away from her.

  ‘You look terrible!’

  I smiled. ‘Thanks!’

  ‘Sorry, but you do. You look so sad – and pale.’

  ‘I’ve not been sleeping much.’

  Kate pushed me back on to my seat. ‘Stay there, I’ll get some tea.’

  I watched her as she wove her way in and out of the tables, carrying a tray back to me. Just by the way she moved, by the confidence of her smile, I could tell that her horizons were expanding, that she was relishing her new life. She put the tray down and sat opposite me.

  ‘Oxford suits you,’ I said, smiling.

  She picked up her cup of tea and sipped thoughtfully.

  ‘Yeah! It does. I love it. But we’re here to talk about you. Tell me all about it.’

  I had chosen a spot tucked away from prying eyes so that we could speak privately. As I told her all that had happened in the last few weeks, I started to cry.

  Kate put her hand across the table and held mine.

  ‘Halima,’ she said softly, ‘you can’t give in to this. You know you can’t.’

  When at last I could speak again, I whispered, ‘I’m so tired, Kate. I’ve been over and over it and I can’t see a way out, unless I leave home and break with my family.’

  Kate eyes held mine. ‘Then you may have to.’

  ‘But I don’t want to. What would I do? I’d have to quit college. They wouldn’t pay for me any more. I’d lose all my friends and relations.’

  Kate was still holding my hand. She gave it a tight squeeze.

  ‘Not all of them,’ she said firmly. ‘Not the ones who matter.’

  I gave her a weak smile. ‘I’d lose my sister,’ I said.

  ‘Asma! Surely not.’

  I nodded. ‘If I went against Baba, she wouldn’t be strong enough to keep seeing me. She’s told me as much.’

  ‘No!’

  I nodded. ‘She’s said that it’s different now she’s married and expecting a baby. If she takes my side in all this, then she’ll be shunned, too. I can understand it. She needs the family’s help. And even Imran told me not to go against Baba.’

  Kate gently withdrew her hand. She leant back in her chair and locked her hands behind her head.

  ‘When are all the family going to Pakistan for Khalil’s wedding?’ she asked.

  I found a tissue and wiped my nose. ‘Just as soon as Asma’s had the baby. Ammi wants to make sure everything’s OK before the rest of the family leave.’

  ‘So Asma and Habib are staying here?’

  I nodded. ‘Yes. They don’t want to travel with a new baby.’

  ‘Mm,’ said Kate thoughtfully. ‘So you’ve only got a few weeks to make your own plans.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what to do, Kate. I can’t bear the thought of marrying this guy, but if I go to Pakistan for the wedding, my father will force me to.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Halima. He can’t! There’s a law against forced marriage now. Your father could be prosecuted.’

  I looked at her sadly. ‘There’s a law in this country. But someone would have to report him, and who would do that? Can you imagine what would happen if I did that? No one in my family would ever speak to me again.’

  She frowned, and I went on, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘My father has my passport and if I go to Pakistan, he’ll make sure I can’t get my hands on it. I’ll probably be kept a virtual prisoner until I agree to marry the guy, and if I still refuse, I’ll be at Baba’s mercy. I won’t be able to leave and he – and the rest of the family – will put all sorts of pressure on me. Not only them, but all the cousins and aunties and uncles in my village – and the elders too, probably. I’ll be seen as bringing shame on my family and I’ll be disowned. No other Pushtoon boy will want me then, and my father certainly won’t allow me back to England to finish college. It’s a lose-lose situation.’

  Kate looked horrified. ‘But… I thought your family were different. You always told me your father would never force you to marry anyone.’

  ‘That’s what I thought, Kate. But this is different. It’s a matter of honour. My father promised me to this guy all those years ago. He promised me in payment for a favour done for him. And my father won’t break his word.’

  ‘I see,’ said Kate, quietly, her voice flat and cold. ‘He won’t break his word. He’ll just break his daughter.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Halima, this is medieval! How can your precious religion condone this?’

  I smiled. ‘I thought you didn’t believe in him.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’

  Kate laughed. ‘I don’t. I just need to call out to some god or other. The circumstances demand it.’

  I laughed. It was the first time in ages. ‘Hey, it’s really good to see you.’ I paused. ‘And by the way, before you go rubbishing my religion, Islam’s got nothing to do with forced marriage. There’s nothing about it in the Koran. It’s just a notion dreamt up by control-freak men.’

  ‘OK, OK. Point taken.’ Then she looked at me long and hard. I could practically see the cogs grinding in her brain.

  ‘Right,’ she said at last. ‘This is what we do.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘I’m not leaving here until you’ve made some plans,’ she said firmly.

  ‘But…’

  ‘No buts. Finish your tea and dry your eyes. We’re going to see Miss Brunner.’

  ‘Miss Brunner?’

  ‘Stop repeating everything I say. Come on. If we hurry we can get to the school before she leaves for home.’

  ‘But I’ve got a lecture…’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Halima, forget the lecture. This is your future we’re talking about here. If we don’t get something sorted out, there’ll be no more lectures – and no more college.’

  She dragged her phone out of her pocket.

  ‘What
are you doing?’

  ‘What does it look like? I’m phoning the school. Leaving a message for Miss Brunner.’

  ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘I’ve got her mobile number.’

  Kate frowned. ‘How come?’

  ‘She said to contact her if I wanted to talk about my future.’

  ‘Well,’ said Kate. ‘There you go. Phone her now.’

  Miss Brunner’s mobile kicked into voicemail and I left a message. I didn’t really know what to say, so in the end I just said I needed to speak to her urgently and that Kate and I were on our way to the school.

  Miss Brunner phoned back while we were on the bus. She sounded a bit harassed.

  ‘Halima. Is this really urgent? Can it wait? I’ve got a staff meeting after school.’

  My hands were sweaty against the phone. ‘Well, I suppose…’

  Kate grabbed the phone from me. ‘Please see us. We’re almost there, Miss Brunner. It won’t take long and it is really urgent.’

  Miss Brunner was talking and Kate nodded. ‘Yes. Well I can’t tell you much on the phone but it’s about a forced marriage.’

  She nodded again. ‘Yes. Halima.’

  More talking, then Kate said goodbye. She punched the air. ‘Yes! She’ll see us as soon as we get there.’

  It was strange going back to the school. I’d not been there since the day I left. As we got off the bus outside the gates I watched the pupils streaming out into the road chatting, shouting, laughing. I spotted Miss Brunner standing talking to a group of girls. She looked up and smiled as we approached.

  The girls drifted off and she took us inside.

  ‘We’ll use your old classroom,’ she said. ‘There’s no one there. We can talk freely.’

  Kate and I automatically sat down at desks and Miss Brunner sat on the teacher’s table, one leg swinging lazily. I looked at her with new eyes. She was young – only a few years older than us, and yet, when I’d been her pupil, she had seemed much older.

  I glanced round the classroom. It had only been a few months, but everything had changed. The notices on the wall were different, the walls were newly painted.

  ‘Now,’ said Miss Brunner, ‘What’s this all about?’

  As clearly as I could, I tried to explain the situation. Every now and then, Kate interrupted with some acerbic comment.