by Judy Nunn
Jalila was bewildered by Paul’s tenderness. No man had ever made love to her. She had not known love in any form, apart from vague recollections of childhood and family, long-since repressed for sanity’s sake.
Then as she felt his movement become more urgent and recognised his time was near, she was further bewildered by her own reaction. Instead of closing off her mind and waiting for it to be over she was gladdened by the thought that her body had given him pleasure. At that moment, bewilderment became realisation. She loved him.
Paul rolled away to lie on his back, breathing deeply and looking up at the ceiling.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, aware there had been no enjoyment for her. How could he have expected there might be? He was just another who had invaded her body. He felt wretched and guilty and ashamed all at once. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, still staring up at the ceiling, unable to look at her.
‘Why sorry?’ Jalila was confused. He seemed miserable and she couldn’t understand why. The thought worried her. She propped on one elbow and gazed down at him. ‘I do wrong?’ she asked. ‘Why you is sad? I not make you happy?’
Her concern was heartbreaking. ‘Of course you make me happy, Jalila,’ he said, stroking her cheek with his fingers. ‘It’s not your fault – it’s mine. I can’t make you happy. That’s why I’m sad.’
‘Oh,’ she laced her fingers with his, kissing his hand, and smiled gloriously, ‘I happy, Paul. I very happy.’ She snuggled beside him, her head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, her body nestled against his. ‘I love you.’
Jalila had never even known the meaning of the words. Hassan had said them to her often, but they had been empty words, they had meant nothing, she had not believed him. Paul had said those very same words to her just today, and they had certainly meant something, she had believed him. Now she was saying those words herself, words she had never thought she would say, and they meant everything.
Paul put his arms about her, holding her close, their naked bodies fitting together flawlessly like two halves creating a perfect whole.
‘I love you too, Jalila,’ he said
How could he possibly ask for more? She’d known only violence. She might never feel passion, she might never experience her own sexual gratification, only time would tell. But they would take joy in the love they shared.
PART THREE
THE JUDGEMENT
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When Bev had phoned Lou to break the news, she hadn’t been sure what sort of reaction she expected, but it certainly wasn’t the one she received. She’d been deliberately blunt, having told herself that nothing was to be gained by pussy-footing around.
‘He’s not taking Jalila back to the island,’ she’d said. ‘He’s madly in love with the girl, as she appears to be with him, and they’re going to live together …’ a telling pause ‘… in Shoalhaven.’
No reply. Well, the poor bloke’ll be in a state of shock, she thought.
‘He’s even bought two gold wedding bands and intends to hold some sort of sham marriage,’ she went on, wondering why she found a certain perverse pleasure in ramming the point home. I can be such a bitch, she thought. But she was aware that her purpose in being harsh was really because she couldn’t stand the thought of fielding endless argument. She waited for the explosion.
Still no response.
‘Are you there, Lou?’
Silence. Not that it mattered – the question had been rhetorical anyway. She knew the old man was still there, mobile phone to ear, no doubt aghast at what he was hearing.
‘He’s not going to change his mind, you know. We won’t be able to talk him around.’
Then finally … ‘Of course we won’t. That’s Paolo’s way.’
‘Oh.’ Bev was taken aback. ‘You’re not mad then?’
‘With Paolo? No. With myself? Yes, a bit.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I should have seen this coming. I sensed something right from the start, but I presumed it was just a young man’s attraction to a beautiful girl.’
She heard quite distinctly his sigh of resignation. Or was it regret? Or disappointment? Difficult to tell.
‘How dumb of me – I should have known better. Paolo’s not the shallow youth I was at his age.’
She found the comment somehow touching, though she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the old man’s criticism of his younger self, or perhaps it was simply because he knew his grandson so very well. Then Lou’s voice changed; he was no longer reflective, but brisk, business-like.
‘Ah well, I can’t change things now and I probably couldn’t have changed things back then anyway, so what are our plans?’
Bev breathed her own sigh, one of relief at having escaped the almighty row she might have expected. But the discussion that ensued was nonetheless lengthy. All they could do, they both finally agreed, was to help buy Paul and Jalila as much time as possible.
‘He’s convinced the longer she has her freedom, the more thoroughly she’ll heal,’ Bev said.
‘And he’s quite right, I’m sure.’
It was settled that between them they would pave the way with Paul’s parents and prepare them for the fact that their son was seriously in love, after which Lou said he would also tell David and Maria about the refugees on the island.
‘Already?’ Bev queried. ‘Before they’ve met Jalila?’
‘Yep.’ He was adamant. ‘They’ll have to know sometime – better to fire both barrels at them right from the start. Hell, they’re the ones who’re going to have to play out this whole bullshit that Jalila’s the sister of your mate from university. They’ll need a few days to prepare themselves for the performance.’ Then he added with grim humour, ‘I can see Maria pulling it off, but I have my doubts about David. Unlike you and your mother he’s not a born actor.’
Oh dear, Bev thought, her misgivings rapidly multiplying.
Lou had further misgivings of his own.
‘I’ll make a trip out to the island and let the others know Jalila’s not coming back,’ he said. ‘They’ll worry about her otherwise; they’re a very close group.’ He didn’t relish being the bearer of such news, for a number of reasons he chose not to discuss over the phone.
They’d said their goodbyes, Lou promising he’d come down to Geraldton before the end of the week. ‘We’ll leave the two of them alone for a few days, eh?’ he’d suggested. ‘Honeymoon time and all that.’
‘Yes,’ she’d agreed, thinking how warm he sounded, and how kind, and how if she’d said those very same words they would have come out decidedly brittle. Ah well, I can’t help being a bitch, she thought. ‘See you, Lou,’ she’d said and she’d hung up.
The following few days were most certainly a honeymoon for Paul and Jalila, who revelled equally in their freedom. Not once did Paul contemplate what lay ahead. Nor did he concern himself with the troubles he might have laid at the doorsteps of others. If he had, he might have felt guilty about the problems Bev and Lou were facing. But he gave them no thought as he shared his world with Jalila, things familiar seeming strangely new to him viewed through her eyes.
They drove south to the coastal town of Cervantes, where they sat on the beach eating fish and chips, as he must have done any number of times, but the fish and chips tasted different now. Much better than he remembered. Jalila had never eaten fish and chips.
They visited Nambung National Park and he showed her, as he’d promised he would, the eerie landscape of the Pinnacles.
‘It took millions of years to form those things,’ he said as they stood on the lookout mound, gazing across the area of arid desert that sat so surprisingly in the midst of the surrounding heath. Here thousands of limestone pillars rose from the yellow sands like an army, in all shapes and sizes, some four metres high, smooth and elegant, others squat and ugly, ancient soldiers, petrified for all time.
‘Pretty breathtaking, eh,’ he said, watching her as she observed in silent wonderment. He’d always found t
he Pinnacles mysterious and impressive himself, but he sensed she was experiencing something deeper.
Jalila was indeed fascinated, not only by the sight, but by the spiritual aura of this strange place, where she felt surrounded by the souls of the dead. This must be a very old and sacred burial ground, she thought. These were surely the gravestones of a people who had passed on.
‘Is peoples long time ago?’ she whispered to Paul, feeling it disrespectful to speak out loud.
‘No, no, they’re not built by people,’ he explained. ‘Wind and water shaped them from seashells over many millions of years, or at least that’s what the scientists say. Truth is, nobody really knows how they were made. The Pinnacles are one of this country’s great mysteries.’
They stayed for some time, driving around the four-kilometre track that wound its way through the rock formations, alighting here and there to explore further, but the more they explored, the less the scientific explanation meant to Jalila. She could feel more strongly than ever the souls that inhabited this land. And by now, as if through some form of osmosis, so could Paul.
The following day, he showed her other sights, closer to Geraldton and in and around the city, but he didn’t head north. They wouldn’t face the music until Saturday, he’d decided – that’s when he’d take her home to his cottage.
And then on the Thursday night, Lou rang.
‘I’m coming to Geraldton tomorrow, Paolo,’ he said, ‘we need to talk.’
Even the sound of his grandfather’s voice didn’t burst Paul’s bubble.
‘Sure, Lou,’ he said. ‘Bring your bathers though – we’re going to the water park. I promised Jalila.’
‘Lou …’ it was Jalila who greeted him, throwing open the hotel room door, her hand extended in greeting ‘… how nice it is to see you,’ she said, and they shook. Then, unable to resist, she hugged him impulsively. ‘Is good, Lou, truly. Is so good!’
Lou looked wide-eyed at Paul, who stood a pace or so behind her.
‘She wanted to show off her English,’ Paul explained, ‘she’s been having some lessons. Well, not really, she’s been teaching herself more than I have.’
‘What I say is right, yes?’ Jalila asked eagerly.
‘Absolutely,’ Lou replied, ‘what you said is absolutely right.’
‘Said,’ she corrected herself. ‘Yes, said.’
‘See what I mean?’ Stepping forwards, Paul embraced his grandfather. ‘Come on in, Lou,’ he said.
Lou entered the room, still in a state of amazement, although the couple didn’t appear to notice, standing side by side as they now were, arms around each other’s waists like any young newly married couple. But it wasn’t Jalila’s English that had so amazed Lou; it was her demeanour. It was everything about her. This wasn’t the same girl he’d known on the island.
‘Did you bring your bathers?’ Paul asked.
He nodded obediently. ‘Got them on under my shorts.’
‘Good. We’ll have a coffee and a chat and then head over to the water park; Jalila’s raring to go, what do you say?’
‘I say we go now,’ Lou replied. ‘We can have a coffee over there, can’t we? I’m not really a water park person, Paolo, I’d prefer a dip in the ocean after we’ve had a chat.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Paul felt somewhat chastened, aware he’d sounded if not selfish at least thoughtless; of course his grandfather wouldn’t want to play in the bloody water park. ‘Much better idea.’
Forty minutes later, they were seated on a park bench, takeaway coffees in hand, watching a bather-clad Jalila splash around in the water jets and fountains, and this time Paul was only too aware of the old man’s amazement.
‘Bloody miraculous, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Lou agreed. ‘In fact I would never have thought it possible.’
As they watched in silence, Paul was visited for the first time by a rush of guilt. His love for Jalila had so selfishly consumed him that until this moment the thought had not once occurred. Had he unknowingly abused his grandfather’s trust? Did the old man feel betrayed?
‘I’m sorry, Lou, he said.
‘For what?’
‘For putting you through all this,’ he replied awkwardly, not sure exactly what it was he was trying to say. ‘I never meant for this to happen, I swear I didn’t. It wasn’t my plan to steal Jalila away – I just wanted to give her a few days freedom. That was my only intention, honestly.’ He was aware he was starting to sound a little desperate. ‘I was trying to do the right thing. I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with her.’ He averted his gaze, staring down at the ground, uncertain how to interpret the look in his grandfather’s eyes, but determined to be honest. ‘I didn’t know that I was probably already in love with her,’ he admitted shamefacedly. Everything he was saying sounded so lame.
‘I’m aware of all this, Paolo. You don’t need to justify yourself.’
Paul looked up. There was no judgement in the old man’s eyes.
‘I’m on your side, mate, so you can give the guilt trip a rest, but thanks anyway.’ Then Lou got straight to the point. ‘Your mum and dad have been wised up and you’re to bring Jalila to dinner on Sunday.’
‘I’m to what?’
‘You’re to bring Jalila home for the family roast dinner the day after tomorrow,’ Lou repeated, ignoring his grandson’s stunned reaction, ‘so be forewarned. Bev’s told Maria and David the story we’re going to put around town about Jalila being her friend’s sister …’ he paused meaningfully ‘… and I’ve told them the truth about the refugees.’
‘You told Dad about the refugees!’ Paul was horrified by the thought. ‘And before he’s even met Jalila?’
‘Yep.’
‘Jesus! What was his reaction?’
‘He was appalled by our duplicity of course,’ Lou said with more than a trace of irony. ‘“Absolutely appalled,” as I’m sure you can imagine. And I’d better warn you he’s not particularly keen on keeping them a secret.’
Which is putting it mildly, Lou thought as he recalled his son-in-law’s instant outrage.
‘You mean the two of you have been concealing the presence of … illegal immigrants?’ David Miller had exclaimed, aghast. ‘And for a whole two months!’
He’d simply nodded and waited for the man to continue, as he knew he would and as David did.
‘But that’s a criminal act!’ David had looked to his wife for support, but Maria had remained silent, a sign he’d taken to mean she was equally shocked. ‘How could you be so duplicitous, Lou! I’m appalled! I’m absolutely appalled! And for you to have involved Paul as well. Although frankly I’d have thought my son might have displayed more common-sense.’ Another glance to his wife. ‘Of course we’ll have to report the presence of these refugees, it’s our duty as citizens.’
But Maria had had other ideas. ‘Why don’t we wait until we see Paul, dear? I agree our son is a very sensible young man,’ she’d said, with just the slightest emphasis on the ‘our’. ‘I think we should hear his views on the subject. And we should most certainly meet the girl. After all, as Bev told us, he cares deeply enough about her to consider her his wife. The least we can do is meet this young woman before reporting her to the authorities. Which of course, my darling, as I’m quite sure you’re aware,’ she’d added, ‘would alienate our son forever.’
David had been flummoxed. For the moment anyway.
‘Let’s ask Paul to bring her to dinner on Sunday,’ Maria had suggested to Lou. ‘That seems like a good idea to me.’
Lou had been grateful for the power Maria had over her husband and for the delicate way she’d wielded it. He’d known, too, that at that moment of confrontation Maria didn’t care one bit about the refugees. Her only thought was of her son, who was prepared to devote himself to this woman he loved, and in doing so possibly ruin his life. Bev had been most explicit over the phone the previous night. Maria, beneath her feigned composure, might well have been fuming at the fact
that her husband seemed to have forgotten all about this.
‘I agree with you, Maria,’ Lou had said, ‘and I know Bev will too. We’ll have a family get-together to meet Jalila.’ He’d beamed in patriarchal fashion at his daughter and son-in-law, but his thoughts had been far from benign. You have no inkling of the ordeal you are about to put this unfortunate young woman through. Poor, poor Jalila.
Now, watching this same young woman at play amongst the water fountains, seemingly carefree, no longer the broken creature he’d known, Lou wondered whether perhaps he’d been wrong. He certainly prayed that he had been.
‘So what exactly was it that Dad said?’ Paul asked, already bristling at the thought of his father’s blanket condemnation.
‘You don’t need to know,’ Lou said, ‘but I’m warning you, Paolo, don’t antagonise the man: we need him on side.’ He stood. ‘I’ll leave you two together for a while. I’m going for a dip – see you back at the hotel.’ Draping his towel around his neck, he set off for the beach. ‘Oh and by the way,’ he called over his shoulder, ‘we’re meeting Bev at the library, one o’clock. We’ll talk through our plans over lunch.’
An hour or so later, during a companionable lunch at a café near the library, Lou’s worry for Jalila’s impending ordeal was apparently not shared by Jalila herself.
‘I meet your parents, Paul.’ The prospect obviously excited Jalila. ‘Is good, I like this. I is daughter to them now, yes? No, no,’ she carefully corrected herself, ‘I am daughter to them, yes? That make me sister to you, Bev,’ she smiled happily, ‘I am sister to you, yes?’
‘Yes, Jalila,’ Bev said firmly, not daring to look at the others, ‘you are sister to me.’
The only person at the table who did not dread Sunday’s confrontation was Jalila.
The following mid-morning, as planned, Paul booked out of the hotel and he and Jalila drove north to Shoalhaven. He didn’t take her directly to his cottage, but gave her a tour of the town first, driving up Main Street, pointing out the principal shops and businesses along the way. To the right the Wong’s Chinese restaurant and laundry, then Nina Adrejic’s bakery, which always smelt so good, then the clothing and drapery store, which he told her was run by a very elderly couple called Geoff and Freda, who’d been there forever.