I wanted so badly to run to her. I knew I had to walk out of the door as I did every morning, but my feet felt glued to the floor. Still I hesitated, looking down the passage to where she was standing calling up to Khalil to hurry, or he’d be late for work.
Tears began to well up. I couldn’t bear it. I started moving back towards her for one last comforting hug. But then Khalil came crashing down the stairs and I came to my senses.
Idiot, I told myself. Act normally. I turned back and fumbled with the door handle, silent tears running down my cheeks. Once I was out of the house I started walking very fast up the street, sobbing loudly, great heaving, gasping sobs, past caring if anyone saw me.
It wasn’t until I was on the Tube heading for college that I got myself under control. I felt completely drained, my limbs heavy and my brain fogged. I dragged myself through the day, going through the motions, telling myself that I mustn’t think ahead. Just get through the next minute, the next hour. Eventually the day would end.
And so often, the image of Ammi came into my head. Busy, smiling, saying goodbye to me, just as she did every day. Getting on with her chores, chatting with the aunties, preparing food for us all. Home-making is all she knows, and her children are her life.
Ammi, I wish it could be different.
How hurt she would be when she knew what I had done.
The only people who knew about my plans were Kate and Miss Brunner – and staff at the new college. There were so many good friends whom I longed to tell. So many of them would understand why I was doing what I was doing, and would have wanted to give me support and advice. But it wasn’t fair to involve them. It was better that they knew nothing, better that I cut myself off and disappeared from their lives.
All through that day I kept looking at my good friends, my fellow students, those I had laughed and chatted with, argued with, travelled with on the bus, sat beside as we studied. And all day, the talk seemed to be of what we were doing in our holidays.
‘You’re off to Pakistan, aren’t you, Halima?’
‘Yes. To my brother’s wedding.’
‘Hey. Will it be a big do?’
I nodded. ‘Huge.’ Quickly I directed the conversation back to them, to what their plans were. Would I ever see any of them again? I stared at each set of features in turn, trying to burn them into my memory.
The day ended at last, and then there was the problem of moving all my belongings. I had booked a taxi but I needed help with the bags and boxes. Two of my friends heaved things outside for me.
‘What’s with all this stuff, Halima?’
I didn’t know what to say, so I just shrugged and smiled. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t realise I’d left so much here,’ I said feebly.
At last, I was bundled into the taxi with all my belongings. My friends were still standing near me when I told the driver where to go, so I panicked and gave him my home address. Through the window I waved until the college was out of sight, and then I leaned forward and said I had changed my mind, and gave him the name of the street Miss Brunner had given me.
The driver screwed his head round and frowned, but I didn’t offer any explanation.
Luckily, the cab driver wasn’t anyone I recognised. One of my uncles drove a taxi, and it would have been just my luck if I’d got him as my driver.
It was a long journey, and I felt very nervous and sat rigidly upright, my fists clenched and my nails digging into the palms of my hands. My brain was frozen and I couldn’t think straight, but I watched the route carefully, just in case the driver thought I was running away and decided to take me home. Stop being so paranoid! I told myself. But still, I was relieved when eventually we got there.
‘What number?’ asked the driver.
I cleared my throat. ‘Twenty-nine.’
The cab crawled along the street checking the numbers.
‘It has a red door,’ I said helpfully. Miss Brunner had told me to get out there because it was easy to spot.
‘OK. It’s down there. I can see it now.’
He pulled up outside and helped me out with my luggage. He looked at it, piled up beside me on the pavement.
‘Shall I help you inside with it, love?’ he said, when I’d paid him.
I fought down my panic. ‘No thanks. My uncle will be there. I’ve phoned him.’
Shut up! I thought to myself. There’s no need to explain yourself to this man.
I watched as he drove off down the road. Was he looking in the mirror, waiting to see if I walked up to the door and rang the bell? I made a show of picking up some of my bags and then went slowly up the steps to the front door of number 29. When I reached the door I fiddled with my handbag, pretending to fish in it for keys, but all the time I was watching until the taxi reached the end of the street, turned right and was lost to view. Quickly I ran down the steps again and stood on the pavement.
What if Miss Brunner had decided not to come? What if she didn’t turn up? What if someone saw me and told my parents? What if…?
But almost immediately, Miss Brunner’s car drew up beside me and I felt weak with relief.
She smiled as she jumped out of the car and came towards me. She gave me a quick hug, and then grabbed some of my bags and stuffed them in the car boot.
‘Come on, Halima, don’t stand there like a statue. Help me load this up. We want to get away from Walthamstow pronto.’
I was feeling unreal. I knew there was no going back, but I felt as if I was trapped in a dream. We heaved the last of the boxes of books into the back seat and then she jumped into the driving seat and I got in beside her.
We didn’t speak much as she negotiated traffic and headed out of London to the motorway. Occasionally she glanced at me, smiled and asked if I was OK, and I nodded in return.
Gradually, as we drew further and further away from London, I began to relax, and once we hit the motorway, the worst of the tension began to drain away.
‘I’ve hardly ever been out of Walthamstow,’ I said. ‘And I’ve never been in the country.’
Miss Brunner looked across at me. ‘Everything’s going to be very different, Halima. The campus is not far from the nearest town but it’s just a big country town. It’s nothing like London.’
‘Yes I know.’
When we’d been travelling for about an hour, Miss Brunner drove into a service station. We got out and stretched and then went into the café, sat down and had a drink and a sandwich.
‘How are you feeling?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. Excited. Confused. Guilty.’
She looked at me, her eyes serious. ‘This is a huge step you’re taking, Halima.’ She hesitated. ‘You might find yourself very lonely. There won’t be any young people on the campus until the start of the academic year.’
I nodded. ‘I know. But at least I’ll be safe. And I’ll have time to think.’
‘What will you do about money?’
I was embarrassed. It was something that I’d been worrying about. ‘I’ve got a bit that I saved from my weekend job in Walthamstow. That should tide me over for a while.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Oh, I worked in a shop helping out on Saturday mornings.’
‘Well, maybe you can do something similar here – at least in the vacations.’
‘Yes,’ I said uncertainly. ‘I’ll see if I can find something.’
Miss Brunner was still looking at me. ‘You know,’ she said slowly. ‘It will be very different, don’t you? There won’t be as many Pakistani students around.’
I sighed. ‘Yes, I realise that.’
There was an unspoken understanding that I would stand out. I wouldn’t be able to blend into the crowd as I did in Walthamstow. If someone found out where I had gone, I would probably be easy to find.
Miss Brunner took a sip of coffee, then put down her cup and picked up a spoon. Absently, she stirred in some sugar.
‘Halima, you don’t think that your father will send
someone to look for you, do you?’
I understood what she was driving at. There had been stories in the press about girls killed by their families because they refused to marry the man chosen for them. Honour killings.
My father had many faults, but he wouldn’t want me harmed – I was quite certain of that. I shook my head.
‘No. My family would never hurt me. As soon as I’ve settled in, I’ll let them know I’m safe,’ I said.
‘And what will happen then? Won’t they put pressure on you to come home?’
I shrugged. ‘I’m not going to let them. I won’t speak to them. I’ll just send a text to Asma.’
‘But surely they’ll keep phoning your mobile?’
‘I’ll only answer if it’s someone I want to speak to.’
I thought of Ammi and how worried she would be. Maybe I would speak to her, just once, just so she could hear my voice. No! I mustn’t. I must be strong. I must cut off all contact, at least for now. That’s the only way it would work.
Miss Brunner interrupted my thoughts. ‘Will they still go to Pakistan for your brother’s wedding?’
I laughed. ‘Of course! There’s no way they’d put that off. Imagine the shame!’
‘What will they say about you? How will they explain that you’re not with them?’
‘Oh, they’ll think of something,’ I said bitterly. ‘They’ll stall. They’ll make some excuse or other.’
I glanced at my watch. Would they be getting anxious yet? I was normally home from college by now. But perhaps they would think that I was late because it was the last day of term…
I would have to send a message soon.
We set off again and then, after a while, we turned off the motorway. I saw a sign to Oxford and pointed to it.
‘I won’t be too far from Kate,’ I said.
Miss Brunner smiled. ‘Yes, you can easily visit each other. That’ll be lovely for you.’
Well, it would be lovely once the new term began, but Kate was going to America for the vacation on some trip or other organised by the university. There were three long months before I would see her again. Three months to get through, on my own in a strange place with little or no company.
At last we were there. We drove through the gates and up a long tree-lined drive to the college buildings.
I had looked up the college online, so I shouldn’t have been surprised – but it was so different, so leafy and green.
‘It’s beautiful!’ I said. And I really meant it.
Miss Brunner looked relieved. ‘I hope I made the right choice for you, Halima. I hope you’ll be happy here.’
I suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion. I couldn’t reply.
I met the College Principal who had arranged for me to be transferred, and he introduced me to a couple of staff members.
‘Do they all know about me?’ I whispered to Miss Brunner, as we made our way up to the room where I was to stay.
‘No. Just the Principal. You’ve not told anyone, have you?’
‘No. Only Kate knows, and she won’t say anything.’
We made several journeys up two flights of stairs and along a long corridor to my little room. There was a single bed, a built-in cupboard, some empty shelves along one wall, a desk under the window and an en-suite shower and toilet. I would be private and quiet.
Miss Brunner walked across to the window. ‘Look, Halima, you can see right across the park. It’s a beautiful view.’
I joined her at the window and stared out. The trees were in full leaf and the sun was shining. It was peaceful – a far cry from the noise and dirt of Walthamstow. I put my hand on her arm.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’
She smiled at me, then she went and sat down on the bed. She had her serious face on.
‘You will work hard, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I promise.’
‘And Halima.’ She hesitated.
‘Yes?’
‘You know that I can’t do any more for you?’
‘What do you mean?’
She looked uncomfortable. ‘I’ve done this because I’m fond of you and I feel very strongly that you shouldn’t be forced to marry against your will… and you’re bright and you deserve a chance to make something of your life.’
I could feel the but coming up.
‘…But I can’t do any more. I don’t want to be caught in the middle of a family feud. I don’t want anyone else to know what I’ve done.’
I hung my head. ‘I understand,’ I said. And I did – but my heart sank. I had hoped that maybe I could talk to her from time to time, ask her advice.
‘So you don’t want me to contact you?’
‘Not just now,’ she said gently. ‘Once this is all resolved, once the dust has settled, then of course you can. You can come back and see me. But right now, I think it’s best we don’t keep in touch.’
She looked at her watch and got up. ‘I must go,’ she said briskly.
She hugged me briefly and then she was gone. Her car was parked outside the main entrance and I stared out of my window down on to it. I watched her run down the front steps, the sun catching briefly on her watch face. Then she unlocked the car and got inside. She glanced up once at my window and waved, then started the engine and drove away down the long drive.
I watched until the car was out of sight, and then I turned slowly away from the window.
I had never, in my entire life, been so alone. The solitude was overwhelming. I poured myself a glass of water and then dragged my mobile out of my pocket. Already there was a missed call. I saw that it was from Asma, so I listened to it. Her voice was angry.
‘Where are you, Halima? Ammi’s worried sick. Call me as soon as you pick this up.’
I composed a text, choosing my words very carefully.
I’m safe and happy but I’m not going to Khalil’s wedding and I’m not going to marry the man Baba’s chosen for me.
It was bald, but it was the truth. What else could I say?
Don’t try calling me. I won’t answer. Text if you like.
I was about to send it, and an image of Ammi came into my head. My poor Ammi, shocked and miserable, torn between her love of me and her unquestioning obedience to Baba. I added another sentence. And please tell Ammi that I love her.
Then, before I lost my nerve, I sent it, with my free hand wiping away the tears which were coursing down my cheeks.
And then, immediately, I sent a text to Kate.
I’ve done it! I’m safe. Have a great trip. See you next term.
Brave words. But my mood was anything but triumphant.
I switched off my mobile and searched in my luggage for the little prayer mat I had brought with me. I took it out and laid it carefully on the floor of my room. Then I went into my bathroom and washed carefully, the familiar ritual calming me.
No one disturbed me. I made the set prayers and then added some special ones of my own, asking Allah to protect me, to protect my family and to give me strength.
When I’d finished, I wondered whether I’d be able to visit the nearest mosque. It was in Oxford, which was a long bus journey and one I probably couldn’t afford until I got a job. I opened up my laptop to check how to get there. Thank goodness I had brought the laptop. Otherwise, anyone could have tracked my recent searches and worked out where I was. I’d looked up Oxford mosques online, I’d visited the college website numerous times, and I’d sent masses of emails to Kate. Even though I’d been careful to trash them immediately, anyone with a bit of computer knowledge would have been able to retrieve them.
I had covered my tracks carefully and I was sure no one would be able to find me.
Slowly I began to unpack my bags. There was no hurry. I had all the time in the world. There was no one to talk to. I was quite alone.
Very carefully I took my wedding dupatta from my backpack. It was only half finished; perhaps I would work on it here. I picked it up and ran the ch
iffon through my fingers. Such a delicate thing, and it would be so beautiful when it was finished. I sighed. I’d probably never wear it now.
A lump rose in my throat. Handling the veil took me right back to the village in Pakistan, and I could see so clearly Ammi’s head bent over, showing me how to stitch when I was little, handing down her own skill to me. My tears spilled on to the veil as I placed it carefully on the table beside my bed.
Gradually I made the room my own. I put my laptop on the desk under the window, I put my washing things in the bathroom, hung my few clothes in the wardrobe and stacked my books carefully on the shelves.
I’d not had room to bring bed linen. There was a rather flat duvet on the bed but no cover or undersheet, and no towels.
Suddenly, this little detail unnerved me and I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands.
I must be strong.
Eventually, I got up and went back downstairs to the Principal’s office. As I walked over the wooden floors in the hall, my footsteps sounded loud in the silence.
I knocked on the door but there was no response. I tried turning the handle, but it was locked.
As I was standing there, someone came past – a middle-aged woman carrying a load of files. She smiled at me. ‘Can I help?’
I explained, haltingly, about my lack of bedclothes. I was waiting for the questions – what was I doing here, why was I here during the vacation – but the woman said, ‘Wait a minute. I’ll see what I can do.’
Then she put down her files, opened up the Principal’s office, picked up the files again and went inside.
‘What’s your room number?’ she asked.
I shook my head. My brain was so numb, I had already forgotten.
‘It’ll be on your key.’
I fished the key out of my pocket and showed it to her.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Leave it with me. The housekeeper’s out, but I’ll get her to bring things up to you later.’
I hung around, not knowing what to do.
‘Anything else I can help you with?’
‘Er, yes. Where do I get the bus into town?’
The woman gave me the information I needed, but she clearly wanted get on with her work, so I thanked her and crept back upstairs to my room. I didn’t feel brave enough yet, to take the bus into town. Maybe soon.
Payback Page 9
