‘I am an idiot generally, so I guess that makes sense,’ she conceded.
‘Don’t worry, I know you have things to focus on and however you might feel, that focus is what’s important.’
‘Yeah, but …’ Mae lowered her voice.
He leaned in a little closer as their legs intertwined. She put her hands on his thighs, sure this time that her heart would jump out of her chest. She closed her eyes, feeling the closeness of his face to hers. Then the doorbell rang.
‘Huh? What? Who?’
It half felt like Mae had woken up from dreaming. Surely the doorbell couldn’t have rung? But before she could even answer that question to herself someone was pressing it repeatedly.
‘What the …?’
Abdul-Raheem looked concerned. ‘Wait here.’
She pulled him back because what if someone the family knew saw him? Her parents would find out and then all hell would break loose. She rushed out in front of him, but in this one-sided tussle of hers she didn’t hear the keys in the lock, her back was turned.
‘Stay inside,’ she said.
Did he look offended? ‘What? Mae, it could be—’
But Abdul-Raheem wasn’t able to finish his sentence. His eyes were fixed on something behind Mae. Something told Mae that she shouldn’t look back, but she felt the outside air waft in as she turned around, and there, standing in the entrance was her entire family.
Chapter Fourteen
Mae let out a barely audible expletive.
‘Quick,’ exclaimed her mum. ‘Call the police.’
‘What?’ said Mae.
‘What are you waiting for, Jay’s abba?’
Mae looked at her dad who seemed to see that Abdul-Raheem wasn’t actually a burglar. Abdul-Raheem, who had raised his hands and was already defending himself by trying to assure her mum that he wasn’t robbing them. Not in the way that Mae’s mum thought, anyway.
‘I don’t think he’s a burglar,’ said Bubblee, standing next to her mum.
‘What do you mean? Look at him.’
This was so much worse than Mae could ever have imagined. She looked at Abdul-Raheem’s lowered gaze, as if holding in all the anger and pain as he clenched his fists.
‘Mum, he’s not a burglar,’ exclaimed Mae, louder than she’d intended.
She looked at all her sisters’ faces, her gaze resting on Fatti looking worried and nervous. What was Fatti even doing here?
‘Then who is he?’ demanded Mae’s mum. ‘What are you doing alone in the house with a-a … kala fwa?’
Her mum looked at Abdul-Raheem from top to bottom and Mae only wished that he hadn’t been there to witness the look on her mum’s face. She swallowed hard.
‘Mae,’ came her dad’s voice; stern, commanding. A tone he hadn’t used in many years. ‘Answer your amma.’
‘He …’ she began.
In that moment Mae had two choices and she wasn’t sure which one to make. The words seemed to be lodged in her throat. She wished they’d stop watching him like that. She caught his eye and never had she seen him look so disappointed.
‘He’s …’ she began again.
What was he? He was someone she loved but she couldn’t say that, could she? It was just too much.
‘Ugh,’ came a familiar voice. ‘He’s her boyfriend.’
Her family seemed to part like the Red Sea as Ilyaas came into view. What was he doing here? And how did he know anything? Her mum and dad were now both looking at her, Bubblee looked worried, Farah confused, Fatti like she might faint.
‘Inside,’ her dad barked. ‘Now.’
‘Listen, Mr Am—’
‘You don’t speak,’ said her dad, not even looking at Abdul-Raheem. ‘You can leave.’
Abdul-Raheem stood tall. Much taller than anyone else in the passage, but it didn’t matter how much he seemed to loom, Mae wanted to bring him into her arms.
‘I think I’ll stay, if it’s all the same to you,’ replied Abdul-Raheem.
Her dad’s eyes narrowed, his eyebrows creased. He looked like he might hit something, or someone.
‘Mae. Tell him to leave. Now.’
She turned to Abdul-Raheem. ‘I think you should go. I have to … I need to explain this to them.’
It didn’t matter how much she tried to lower her voice, she knew they could hear.
‘Explain,’ exclaimed her mum, grabbing Mae’s arm and dragging her into the living room. ‘What do you think you’re doing, hmm?’
‘Mum, calm down,’ said Bubblee, following them both. ‘And let her go.’
Mae felt tears prickle her eyes as she heard Fatti in the passage. ‘I really think you should leave. I’m sorry.’
‘I need to make sure she’ll be okay.’
‘That’s not your job,’ said her dad. ‘You understand?’
‘Abba, please,’ said Fatti. She turned to Abdul-Raheem. ‘Listen, you need to go. This isn’t about you.’
There was a long pause. ‘Of course it’s about me.’
The front door shut and Mae realised that she didn’t even say goodbye to him.
‘What do you mean, “let her go”?’ said her mum to Bubblee. ‘Letting her go has turned her into this.’
‘Mum,’ said Farah. ‘You’ll wake the baby.’ She looked around the room as she said to Mae: ‘You were meant to be looking after Zoya, you know.’
Seriously? Farah went and got the baby monitor to see Zoya sleeping peacefully. That clearly wasn’t enough though as she left the room and went to check on her. Fatti had come and sat next to Mae, looking up at her mum.
‘I don’t think shouting’s going to work.’
Before her mum could say anything though, her dad was leaning over Mae, pointing his finger at her. ‘You will not leave the house unless you’re with one of your sisters, okay?’
‘But—’
‘You will quit your job,’ he added.
‘I can’t jus—’
‘And you are not going back to university,’ he added.
Mae looked at her dad as if she hardly knew what he was saying.
‘Hang on, that’s a bit extreme,’ said Bubblee.
‘You, be quiet,’ said her dad. ‘You started this by going to university, showing her the way. Is this why we gave you money? To study just so you can then go around with boys?’
‘Bu—’
‘I don’t want to hear any “but”. That is final.’
The room filled with silence as Farah walked back in. Their dad closed his eyes, pressing his hand against them.
‘Your silly auntie called us at the last minute to cancel because she wasn’t feeling well,’ said her mum. ‘Who does that to their guests? So we decided to go to Fatti’s house instead and see the baby. We’re sitting and eating and the answering machine comes on with Ilyaas.’
Everyone looked towards him now, lurking between the living room and passage. He looked at the ground.
‘And what does he say? “Didn’t know Mae was allowed company when babysitting.”’
Mae thought she might get up, lunge at Ilyaas and actually kill him.
‘No,’ interrupted Farah. ‘She wasn’t.’
‘Oh, shut up, Farah,’ said Bubblee.
Farah stared at her sister as she went red in the face.
‘I said, “What company? What are you talking about?”’ continued Mae’s mum. ‘Then your sister picked up the phone and her face looked like someone had died, so I took the phone from her. And he told me.’
‘What were you even doing here?’ asked Bubblee, looking at Ilyaas.
‘What does it matter?’ their mum exclaimed. ‘Thank God he was here to tell us.’
Mae couldn’t believe it. It was no accident. This whole thing could’ve been avoided. No one would have had to see Abdul-Raheem in the house with her. Their moment together needn’t have been interrupted. And she wouldn’t have had to see him look so hurt. The way her dad had spoken to him. The way her mum thought he was a burglar. Mae felt a flush
of acute embarrassment at her whole family, the way her sisters had just stood there and let her parents say all those things to him.
‘A kala fwa. In the house,’ added their mum. ‘You have no respect for your family.’
Mae looked up at her as if she couldn’t quite believe her.
‘Would you stop calling him that,’ she exclaimed.
Everyone looked at her.
‘He is not just a kala.’
‘Then what is he? Hmm?’ said her mum, leaning into Mae, her face like thunder.
This was the moment Mae would have to choose: Abdul-Raheem or the indignation of her family. Perhaps it had taken breaking up with him to really see how right he was about them. Everything she did and said meant taking them into account. Her life wasn’t her own. And wasn’t it time to change that?
‘You know what he is,’ she said, shooting a look at Ilyaas.
‘Mae …’ said her dad.
‘I like him, okay?’
Mae’s heart hammered. No more excuses. Just honesty.
‘And he likes me.’
‘Allah,’ exclaimed her mum.
‘I don’t know what the big deal is,’ Mae added.
But of course she knew exactly what the big deal was. For the family it was probably the biggest deal there’d ever been amongst them, and plenty had happened over the years.
‘This is not how we do things,’ said her dad.
‘What things?’
‘This things,’ he exclaimed.
Mae refused to acknowledge what he was getting at. She folded her arms and raised her brows. Her dad looked around the room, as if searching for help. He took a deep breath.
‘We have traditions for a reason,’ he said finally.
‘What reasons?’ asked Mae.
Her parents looked at her as if she was missing the obvious point in the world.
‘Mae, you are young …’
She was going to scream. Actually scream.
‘We know what …’ he cleared his throat, ‘temptations can happen.’
Oh God. Mae felt her face flush.
‘Abba …’ she said, lowering her voice, embarrassed.
Her dad had never looked so awkward. ‘What kind of parents would we be if we didn’t protect you from that? Hmm?’
It had never occurred to Mae that they’d wanted to protect her – it always felt too much like control.
‘But, Abba,’ she replied, unfolding her arms and leaning towards him. ‘I’m an adult now. I have to learn to protect myself.’
‘Mae,’ interrupted her mum. ‘You will always be our baby.’
She looked at her mum, surprised by the tears that had surfaced in her own eyes; the affection she was able to feel towards her mum in that moment.
‘You will not see him again,’ said her dad.
‘Why?’ asked Mae.
Any affection she’d felt slipped away. She looked around the room, noticing Ilyaas staring at her. She’d deal with him later.
‘Our girls do not go out with boys,’ her dad added.
‘No, some of them go out with girls.’
It just came out of Mae’s mouth, but it seemed to take her parents a few moments to process what she’d said.
‘Not the time, Mae,’ said Bubblee. ‘Not the time.’
She looked at her sister and hardly recognised her. What happened to her sense of right and wrong? To all the principles she had? Didn’t her parents know about all the dates she was going on? Mae supposed that Bubblee had changed too much. She was now willing to keep quiet about her private life just to keep the peace.
‘You know Abdul-Raheem’s Muslim?’ said Mae.
Her parents looked confused again.
‘I mean, prays five times a day, fasts, is really kind of Muslim,’ she added.
They didn’t seem to know what to do with this information and simply looked at each other.
‘Doesn’t that count for anything?’ said Mae. ‘You’re worried about me, yeah?’
Her dad nodded.
‘You want to protect me, isn’t it?’
Nod.
‘Well then? Doesn’t he sound like the perfect person to do that?’
Mae had to leave out the fact that she should be able to protect herself, that she didn’t need anyone to do that for her. That’s what growing up was, surely?
‘But he’s so dark,’ said her mum.
‘Mum,’ exclaimed Farah. ‘That’s not exactly Islamic, is it?’
It was no use reasoning with her parents. They refused to understand, were too set in their own ideals.
‘No, but it’s only Islamic when it suits people, isn’t it?’ said Mae. ‘Forget about the fact that he’s had a hard life, that he converted in prison, that he’s turning it all around because of Islam.’
‘Prison?’ said her mum.
Mae took a deep breath.
‘You like a man who is black and a convict?’ her mum added. ‘This is the day your parents had to live and see.’
It was the hypocrisy that got Mae. It was one thing that they weren’t hearing her; could they even hear themselves?
‘Didn’t matter when Jay committed a crime, did it?’ said Mae. ‘He’s the reason Mustafa is dead! That’s okay though.’
How could they be so blind? Up until then Mae had brushed aside her parents’ casual racism, their judgements on others, the way her mum would gossip about family friends’ daughters gone bad. Like they were a rotten fruit and not a human being. And it was always the daughters who were gossiped about. When it came to the sons, well then, boys would be boys. Sure, it’s not as if a black woman would’ve been met with open arms had Jay brought one home – her parents would’ve shouted and probably said all the same crap that Mae was having to hear, but they wouldn’t have tried to control him. They wouldn’t have said that it was for his protection. (If anything, Jay’s partner would be the one needing protection.) They certainly wouldn’t have told him he had to quit his job, that he wouldn’t be able to leave the house on his own, that he couldn’t go to university. Her failure there loomed over her now as she noticed Fatti fidgeting with her hands.
‘Don’t you bring your brother into this,’ said her mum.
‘Jay is doing better,’ her dad added.
The sisters all glanced at each other. Better wasn’t quite the same as okay. He was an adult man who was in debt, living with his parents and driving a delivery van because he was incapable of getting any other job.
‘No one’s going to say anything?’ said Mae, looking at her sisters.
‘It’s not the time for it, Mae,’ said Bubblee.
‘Not the right time for anything right now, according to you. You’d have been going crazy if you were in my shoes.’
Bubblee didn’t respond, which only confirmed the truth of Mae’s statement.
‘Do you have a problem with him being black?’ Mae asked Bubblee.
‘What? No.’
‘But I shouldn’t be seeing him?’
Bubblee paused.
‘Right,’ said Mae, turning to Farah. ‘And what about you?’
‘Mae, a cultural connection is really important. Relationships are hard enough.’
Mae had to scoff. ‘Because a cultural connection was so helpful for you and your husband, wasn’t it? Where is he now? Your relationship was dead before he died.’
‘Mae!’ her dad shouted.
‘And you?’ Mae said, finally turning to Fatti.
Fatti with her kind ways and kind heart. Fatti, who never wished or said a bad thing about anyone.
‘I don’t have a problem with black people,’ said Fatti, looking at Mae, worry etched on her brows. ‘But …’
‘But,’ said Mae. ‘There’s no “but” here, Fats. You can’t please everyone right now. Because it’s not about pleasing people, it’s about being … being … just being a nice person.’
She looked around the room as the simplicity of it dawned on her. Her family weren’t nice. How could you be w
hen you had such narrow views? The very idea scared her. Because wasn’t she almost the same? If Abdul-Raheem hadn’t come along, would she have even given it any thought? Could she have gone through life without realising her own prejudices?
‘This girl is getting out of hand,’ said her mum, looking at her dad.
‘Get up,’ he said. ‘We’re going home.’
‘What?’ said Mae. ‘No, we’re not.’
‘She can stay here,’ said Bubblee.
‘You think I want to stay here?’ she exclaimed, almost laughing.
Mae stood up and marched over to get her bag.
‘Mae, you stop right now or I’ll … or I’ll …’
But her dad didn’t seem to know what the ending of that sentence was.
‘What will you do, Abba?’ Mae looked him straight in the face.
‘You have to listen to your parents,’ he said. ‘This is God’s command.’
‘Yeah, well, I think he also commanded that people shouldn’t judge people based on the colour of their skin. Maybe I’ll listen to you when you listen to God, yeah?’
Mae snatched her bag and grabbed the car keys as she strode past Ilyaas. She stopped.
‘I thought you were cool,’ she said, looking at him as she shook her head.
He looked as if he were about to say something, but before he could get the words out, Mae marched out of the house, the sound of Zoya’s crying now filling the household.
She sat in her dad’s car and had to take several deep breaths. Her anger was bubbling all over the place, her heart thudding, her teeth grinding. Of all the bigoted things. Her dad’s look of disappointment and anger would’ve made her feel bad if she didn’t feel both those emotions tenfold. She looked at her phone and called Abdul-Raheem. It rang for ages but he didn’t pick up. Was he upset? Angry at her? Why hadn’t she spoken, defended him, when he’d been there to actually hear? Not that she expected a medal for it, because she knew she should’ve done it sooner.
Sistaaaas
Bubblee: Mae, don’t make this worse. Just come home. We’ll calm Mum and Dad down.
The only people making this thing worse was them, just standing there without one word of support. They were meant to be her backbone, the ones who gave her courage and encouragement. She was the youngest so weren’t they meant to be the role models?
The Hopes and Triumphs of the Amir Sisters Page 19