by Stan Mason
The doctor took his cue from the lawyer and they both left the room. Diana opened the cupboard at the side of her bed and removed the clothes which had been folded neatly and placed there. She dressed fairly quickly, examining her hair in a hand mirror, fluffing it slightly, before going to the door. She had no additional luggage which had been taken to England by her alleged husband with the exception of her handbag and it few contents. She took a final glance around the room. It had been her prison but now she regretted that she had to leave.
Outside, Ahmed waited for her in his car. He climbed out as she came through the hospital gates and opened the door for her on the passenger’s side to allow her to get in. Then he drove half a mile away to his house on the outskirts of the town.
If ever Diana was to receive a culture shock this was it. The house was very small and she entered the tiny passageway to the stench of curry and other cooking smells. The rooms were extremely dingy with little furniture and there was Ahmed’s family of himself, his mother, and three children. The walls of the main room had once been white but now they were discoloured with black marks in various places where young hands had been pressed against them. The furniture was ancient, well-worn and torn or damaged in a number of places...the settee exposing a flush of ugly foam. A dirty old carpet with one end turning upwards stretched across the floor. Nothing was clean. Except for the mother, the children were crowded together in the tiny room watching the screen of a large television set.
‘Mother’s in the kitchen,’ said Ahmed noticing the unhappy expression on her face.
She shuddered to think about the state of the kitchen as her nose twitched with the stench. She could visualise its filth with cockroaches scurrying about in every corner. Night time was going to be horrendous. There were only two bedrooms to accommodate her and five members of his family. She had no idea where she was supposed to sleep.
The attention of the children moved away from the television screen as their eyes stared directly at the stranger. They were clearly unhappy that a foreigner was going to stay with them.....in their already overcrowded house.
Ahmed provided an old chair for her to sit on and she sat down to face him. He waved his hand to dismiss the children who left the room to play in the street.
‘Tell me about your work,’ ventured Diana trying to make the most of the situation.
‘I’m a lawyer...a solicitor in Agadir. I’m the senior. partner in a firm which is the reason why I have so much time to spare.’
‘You don’t seem to have much work. Don’t you have any clients?’
‘Sharia law is very specific,’ he explained. ‘It’s not as laborious as British law. If a thief is caught, his hand is chopped off as punishment. In England, the lawyers and barristers would take months to bring the case to Court. Here it’s over in a very short time without repercussions. Our law is different but precise. It’s far easier that way.’
‘Where do you usually sleep?’ Her question was precocious but she felt she had to ask it.
‘I sleep on this settee,’ he told her, pointing to the old piece of furniture with foam sticking out. ‘This allows my mother privacy in one bedroom and for the children to sleep in the other bedroom from head to toe.’
She nodded as the children started to argue loudly outside. They all spoke in Arabic; only Ahmed was capable of speaking English so she didn’t know what they were saying. For a moment, she became paranoid and imagined that they were talking about her. However, Ahmed explained the true nature of their dehate which related solely to the game they were playing. She realised that the change in accommodation was going to be a tarrying experience and she regretted not to have agreed with Laura to return to America with her. The urgent requirement of the hospital bed at such short notice had thrown her life into disarray.
‘Would you like something to drink? Some coffee perhaps.’ he suggested in an attempt to show her some hospitality.
The children ran into the room, turning on the television set which blared out music in high volume. All of them stared at her as though she had come from another planet. It was very doubtful whether they had been in the presence of an English woman before...certainly not with one staying with them at their house.
‘Yes...I’d like a drink, thank you,’ replied Diana feeling most uncomfortable.
He left the room and returned shortly with two cups of coffee on a tray. She sipped hers and screwed up her face at the taste.
‘Ugh! This is disgusting!’ she complained bitterly.
‘Living here will mean that you’ll need to condition yourself
to our ways,’ he told her curtly. ‘Our culture and customs are far different to those in your country.’
Diana remained silent thereafter wondering why she had ever chosen Morocco as a holiday venue. Very little changed that day with the exception of meeting Ahmed’s mother who showed her little courtesy. Clearly, the woman resented the intrusion of a foreigner in her home and wanted to have nothing to do with her.
Later that evening, at quite an early hour, everyone went to bed. The children continued to show a great deal of resentment towards her and they muttered their discontent when Ahmed told them that he was going to sleep on the floor in their bedroom. Animosity towards their guest reigned supreme.
‘I’m going to give you the privilege of sleeping on the settee here,’ he informed her whimsically. ‘It’s my bed usually but you can have it for the time being. I hope you sleep well and wish you good night.’
He disappeared leaving her to her own devices holding an ugly brown stained blanket. She didn’t have any nightclothes. In any case, she would be certain not to undress for fear that someone might come into the main room either later in the night or early in the morning. She lay on the old settee in discomfort wondering how she was going to escape from her dilemma. The stench of the stale curry permeated through the room so much that she was forced to keep her head under the blanket provided for her. Not that such action helped because the blanket itself smelled of something disgusting. Not surprisingly, sleep did not come easily that night and she remained awake for what seemed to be an eternity. Then, at about four o’clock in the morning, she dozed off in a light slumber, twisting and turning as the uneven state of the settee forced her to keep changing positions.
Although she was still half asleep, she came to a definite decision about her immediate future. Come hell or high water, she would not stay in this hovel for one minute longer than she had to. That was for certain!
Chapter Five
At the break of day on the following morning, the sound of the children stirring in the next room awoke her. She didn’t need to dress as she had slept in her clothes and she crept out of the house
before anyone could know of her absence. The sun was shining brightly in a beautiful blue sky and it was clear that the day was going to be hot. Diana paused for a few moments as she closed the front door quietly, looking both ways to determine how she could get back to the hospital. There was only one thought in her mind.....to find Laura and get her to book a room in a hotel. Ahmed would be furious when he discovered that she had flown the coop and, no doubt, he would be searching for her very shortly. However she had no alternative but to leave and find a more suitable place to stay. There was also the problem of her clothes. She couldn’t continue to wear the same apparel day in day out in this temperature. She feared that she had already begun to perspire which meant that she need to take a shower to give off a much more pleasant aroma.
She decided on a particular direction and stepped off at a relatively fast pace. The last thing she wanted was for Ahmed to chase after her and take her back to his hovel. She never wanted to return to that place again. The further she walked, the more she began to perspire which made her feel uncomfortable. The hospital wasn’t very far away yet, in her haste to get there, it seemed to be exceedingly distant. At last
she came to a signpost which indicated that it was close and she picked up her pace until she reached her destination. Panting with the effort, she held on to the iron gate at the entrance pausing for a break. Laying for a long time in hospital had not improved her fitness. She glanced at her wristwatch which indicated that it was seven-thirty and, at that moment, the sound of a muezzin could be heard from a nearby minaret crying out for people to come to prayers which resounded throughout the area. It was obviously a recorded prayer similar to the bells rung in English churches but it made no difference to her as the sound reverberated over the southern part of the town. This was a country where most people believed in daily prayer and they were driven by it.
She had no idea what time Laura would come to the hospital. There was no alternative but to wait for her to arrive. She had no choice in the matter. As the muezzin’s voice faded away into infinity, a large house flashed into her mind. It was a Georgian built property with a grand façade sporting a tall fountain and a wishing-well in the front garden. She noted its features well for a few seconds as it registered in her mind. Where was that place? Was it her home in England? Her hopes rose as she realised that she had seen something from the past. Her memory was starting to recover albeit very slowly. She tried to recall the same image again but nothing happened. Half an hour later, someone emerged from the hospital to unlock the iron gate and then open it. As she stared at the man, a further memory came into her head. She could hear the voice of the cabbie who had picked up her and her husband from the airport when they had first arrived in Agadir.
‘On February the twenty-ninth 1960,’ came the voice, ‘we suffered a great earthquake killing many people. Fifteen thousand people died in fifteen seconds. There were so many bodies for us to handle so we buried them at the end of town covering an enormous grave with cement. Money poured in to help us from all over the world and we used it to make Agadir a beautiful place. Over there you can visit the Purple Mountains; here you can see the beautiful blue sea.’
She stood quite still for a moment polarised by the discovery that something was happening in her mind......it had to be all to the good. Cheered by the sudden recall, her head went up and she began to look at her life in a different way. If it continued, she would soon recover. It was quite plain that her attacker had not only taken her memory but had ruined her life.
The hours passed and Laura still did not come. At noon, a bus stopped nearby, the passengers alighted, and they all knelt down facing the East to pray. Then, after a short while, they climbed back on the bus and continued on their journey. It was true....the people here were driven by religious belief.
Diana waited as people entered and left the hospital during the morning, her mind remaining blank, and it was almost two-thirty when Laura appeared. It was a highly emotional moment for Diana who threw her arms around her sister and hugged her tightly.
‘Hey, hey, hey!’ exclaimed Laura, noticing her sister’s distress.
‘What’s going on? Why are you waiting for me outside the hospital?’
Tears ran down Diana’s face as she held tightly on to her sister. She took her hand and they moved away from the hospital gates walking in silence for a short while as they proceeded down the road. ‘They threw me out!’ sobbed Diana eventually as the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. ‘They needed the bed so I had to go.’
‘When was this?’ asked Laura with concern in her voice.
‘Yesterday.’ Diana’s chest heaved up and down uncontrollably. ‘They needed the bed and Ahmed, the man employed by my alleged husband to report back to him of my progress, took me to his home.’
‘That was nice of him.’
‘Oh....it was a dreadful place. The stench was awful. Five of them in the family. Two tiny bedrooms and everyone resented me....especially his mother. I left thee early this morning. I had to sleep on an old settee in these clothes. I haven’t any others.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ve eaten anything either,’ uttered her sister miserably. Diana shook her head slowly. ‘Come on....let’s get you to a restaurant. Then you can come and stay with me at my hotel.’
‘I don’t want to put you out,’ bleated Diana not wishing to impose on her sister. ‘Maybe it would be a good idea to book in to the Hotel Sahara where I’m supposed to have stayed with my alleged husband. Maybe I can even get the same room. It might help restore my memory.’
‘I’ve booked in to the Hotel Sahara myself,’ returned her sister. The first thing is to buy you some new clothes. That’ll make you feel better. Then you can have a shower in my room. Shopping for clothes in Agadir. I like the sound of it.’
Diana nodded again. She could hardly believe that the two of them had not spoken for nine years because of an idiotic dispute over their parents’ Will. Laura had turned up trumps as a true sister in her desperate hour of need. Diana wouldn’t have known what she would have done without her.
After enjoying a light lunch at a nearby restaurant, they went on their shopping spree buying two gowns and some lingerie. When they returned to the Hotel Sahara, Diana took a shower and sat on the bed thoughtfully. All the bedrooms in the hotel were the same but nothing triggered in her mind. She moved out to the balcony looking down at the point where she had been attacked but still there was no memory.
‘They told me at the hospital that I was attacked down there outside this balcony,’ she said casually in a wistful manner. ‘What a thing to happen! The attacker hanged himself in prison. He actually ended his life after he was caught. And what for? They told me that I had no money on me.’
‘The laws in these countries are very strict with regard to crime,’ stated Laura bluntly. ‘They chop off one of your hands if you’re caught stealing.’
‘But he didn’t steal anything from me because I didn’t have any money. He gave up his life for nothing.’
‘You were his victim, Diana. He deserved to be punished for what he did. An eye for an eye. That’s what it’s all about.’
‘Have you spoken to my alleged husband since you’ve been here?’
Laura shook her head. ‘No...there was only one single phone call when he contacted me about you. Why do you ask?’
‘Well,’ continued Diana sadly, ‘for a man who’s supposed to be a loving husband, he’s not been in touch or visited me. I haven’t seen him at all. Why hasn’t he been here to see me?’
Her sister pursed her lips and stared at her dismally. ‘Charles was always a workaholic. We all recognised that. The main thing in his life was his work. I’m afraid you always had to take second place.’
Diana remained silent for a few moments. ‘There we have it!’ she muttered uneasily. ‘I’m a workaholic widow with an alleged husband who couldn’t care less whether I lived or died.’
‘All I can say is that if I was in your position, Mac wouldn’t have left my side for a moment. But then we choose men on a whim of love and have to take the consequences.’
Diana moved away from the balcony and brushed out the creases in her dress even though it was a pointless task. After brushing her hair, Laura suggested that they get some fresh air and look around the other shops in the town. They went to a local bazaar, examining the goods exhibited for sale. There were clothes suitable for the Western woman including kaftans dyed in different colours and Diana managed to find some nightclothes of a daring nature and she felt much better as they returned to the hotel. The night in the hovel was starting to become a distant memory; the love and company of her sister had replaced it.
That evening, with Diana wearing her newly-purchased clothing, the two sisters went on the town. They found themselves in a marquee which advertised the entertainment of a Moroccan evening, and they enjoyed themselves immensely. They danced with the natives, ate crusty bread, gorged on lamb cutlets and cous-cous, and drank plentiful of the local wine. As the evening wore on, the tempo of the music became faste
r and faster. The two sisters threw themselves into the party spirit and Diana forgot all the problems she had endured during her stay in the country, assisted by the volume of wine which she had imbibed. By the
end of the evening, they were relatively inebriated and they staggered back to the Hotel Sahara giggling all the way. When they arrived there, they managed to get to their room and lay on the beds still giggling.
‘I’m not going back to that hovel,’ declared Diana drunkenly.
‘No you’re not. You’re staying here with me.’
They giggled for a while longer discussing some of the main features they had enjoyed that evening before they both fell asleep. It was an evening of great enjoyment and for the first time in many weeks Diana felt happy.
They were awakened early the following day by someone knocking loudly on the door. Diana opened her eyes as a pain shot through her head. It was not the agony relating to her injury but a terrible hangover.
‘We don’t want anything yet!’ she shouted closing her eyes tightly to shut out the light.
There was a loud muttering outside the door and then a further long knocking. She looked to Laura who was fast asleep so she lifted herself up and went to the door unsteadily to open it. Ahmed stood there with an angry expression on his face.
‘Is it your custom to treat people badly when they try to help you?’ he remonstrated irately.
‘What?’ she managed to say, her mind being completely befuddled.
‘I took you into my home and you leave without saying a word. What kind of a person are you?’
‘I’m sorry she managed to say.’ trying to focus her mind on his problem. ‘You’d better come in.’
He entered the room and sat down angrily on a chair sulking like a schoolboy, staring at Laura who was still asleep. ‘I had to explain to my mother why you had left. It made me lose face. But, as you’re a foreigner, I think she understood.’
