Forbidden

by Emma Nichols

  ‘Thanks, bud.’ She sipped at the hot drink and tussled with her bed-hair.

  Craig gazed up the stairs inquisitively, and she slapped him on the arm.

  ‘What?’ he teased.

  ‘She’s not here,’ Ash confirmed, with a coy smile. ‘Give me ten,’ she said, slowly making her way back up the stairs.

  ‘I got pastries,’ he shouted, heading for the kitchen.

  She jumped into the shower, avoided wetting her hair, jumped out; threw on her shorts and t-shirt, collected her coffee and made her way back downstairs.

  ‘Eight minutes! Yer good,’ Craig said, with a wink, munching into a sticky sweet cake.

  Ash scanned inside the paper bag and lifted a sugar-coated pastry triangle to her lips, knowing that the soft almond paste would dance on her tongue. ‘Yum.’ The sweetness went some way to filling the void that occupied her chest. She wanted to feel the joyous sensation of the love that she and Iman shared, but the shadow of truth was too strong. She had seen the love between Iman and her family too. Pulling Iman away from her home, her life. What if Iman resented her for it, eventually? She sipped at the hot drink, the bitter taste bringing her back to the sound of Craig’s voice.

  ‘Everythin’ okay?’ Craig asked, observing her. Ash’s eyes caught his, answering the question. ‘Anythin’ I can do?’ he asked, frowning.

  Ash puffed out a breath, stood taller and sipped her coffee. ‘Yeah, let’s go win this race,’ she said, braving a smile.

  Craig’s crooked teeth appeared, but there was still a concern in his gaze.

  ‘Ya ready then?’

  ‘Sure, let’s do it.’

  *

  Niomi ran excitedly into the kitchen, drawing Iman’s eyes from the crème pâtissière she was working on. ‘They said yes,’ she screeched with delight, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling. ‘They said yes. Can you believe it?’ She danced around the kitchen, humming a tune. ‘What can I get your parents…? To thank them,’ she said.

  Iman shrugged. ‘I don’t think they’d expect anything,’ she said, smiling warmly. ‘I’m so happy for you.’ She held out her arms and Niomi fell into the embrace. ‘When are you getting married?’ she asked, suddenly aware that she might not be around for the wedding if they had to leave the country.

  ‘We haven’t set a date yet. Zack wants to date me properly,’ she said, her chin rising, with a tilt.

  ‘That’s lovely.’ Iman gazed at her friend, the gripping sensation niggling in her gut reminding her that she would never be able to share her joy openly in the same way. She sighed deeply. ‘You going to help me with the party food for the race?’ she asked, redirecting her attention.

  Niomi clapped her hands in front of her chest. ‘Yes, I can’t wait. It will be such fun watching them this afternoon.’ Her eyes glazed and she swayed where she stood. ‘I hope they win.’

  Iman threw her an apron. ‘Come on then. We’ve got a lot to do,’ she said, the thought of creating something unique lifting her spirits.

  ‘How’s Ash?’ Niomi asked as she walked into the pantry.

  Iman’s heart fluttered, momentarily replacing the dull feeling that accompanied any thoughts of needing to leave the country, or being apart from the woman she loved. ‘She’s wonderful.’

  Niomi placed the semolina flour and syrup on the workbench. ‘Are you going to Paris?’ she asked, her tone reflecting the lack of enthusiasm that Iman felt.

  ‘No,’ Iman said. Her eyes lifted, with her smile. Niomi was grinning and her eyes alight with excitement.

  ‘What will you do?’ Niomi asked.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Ash… and you?’

  Iman stared straight through Niomi. ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  ‘Will you move abroad?’ Niomi asked, her tone suddenly serious.

  Iman stood, staring into a space in her mind. Her hands were shaking, even though her heart was full of hope. ‘If we have to, I guess,’ she responded, with a sigh.

  ‘What about your family?’

  The question fractured her heart, and her eyes stung. Her father had always given her choices. Options. Even saying she could change her mind about the course if she didn’t want to go. Amena had been even more resolute in offering her perspective; she didn’t wish for Iman to leave. Tarek hadn’t said much, but his smile had taken on a different quality since she had talked openly about her and Ash. Her mother had been the only one who had been firm about her going to Paris, insisting that it would be for the best, and even that was out of concern for her safety. She had seen it in each of their eyes. The moment her sexuality had become more than just a fantasy. She would never be able to live openly here, in Syria, and, she didn’t want to run from her life, her family, and all that she had ever known. And then there was Ash: the beautiful, amazingly sensual, Ash. She had never known such intense feelings towards anyone. To let her go wasn’t an option either. ‘It will be hard,’ she said, her eyes glistening.

  ‘The injustice is so wrong,’ Niomi said, shaking her head.

  ‘Yes, it is.’ Iman responded, smiling through the sadness.

  Niomi stepped around the bench and pulled Iman into her arms. ‘We can look after each other,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ for now. Iman cupped Niomi’s face. ‘Thank you for being a good friend.’

  Niomi blubbered. ‘I will die if you leave,’ she said.

  ‘No. You will get to make more sweets,’ Iman teased, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. ‘Come on, let’s cook,’ she said, shifting the energy.

  *

  ‘What the fuck ya doing, Zack? Grab that fuckin’ corner ‘n’ put some beef behind it.’ Craig rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face caused Ash to chuckle.

  Zack gave him the finger, and shifted across two paces, trying to get a firm grip on the barrel.

  ‘Ya got it yer end?’

  ‘Yep,’ Dan responded, though he too was struggling to get a good purchase on the round metal, weakened further by the laughter rumbling in his chest.

  Ash stood from having been bent over the raft for too long, waiting for the men to sort themselves out, and stretched her back. ‘When you lot are ready, call me,’ she said, heading for the cool-box. They’d had mechanical support to get the raft onto the truck, so there wasn’t any wonder in her mind that it was taking them a bit more effort to manually shift it onto the shore. She cracked open a beer, leaned against the truck and slugged. She chuckled as she watched other teams struggling; rafts of all shapes and sizes were being lifted, dragged and slid into position on the water. A loud jeer sounded downstream as a competing company’s raft splashed into the river.

  Zack and Dan abandoned their positions and joined her.

  ‘For fuck's sake,’ Craig complained, still holding his corner of the raft. He threw off his gloves and stepped up to the cool-box. ‘So how we gonna shift this mule?’ he asked. Three pairs of shoulders shrugged at him. He pulled out his cigarettes and offered them up to Ash. She refused. ‘Ya stopped?’ he asked.

  She pulled away from the truck and headed to the water's edge, ‘Seems so,’ she said. She hadn’t had any desire to smoke since they had returned from the rig. She couldn’t explain it. It was like a switch had gone off, and although she had had moments when she could have easily picked up a cigarette Iman’s image in her mind’s eye had somehow prevented her.

  ‘Fuck!’ Craig mumbled, inhaling deeply, scratching his head.

  Ash walked downstream studying the bank below the water. ‘Here,’ she called. ‘If we can back the truck into the water, it will be on a tilt, and we might be able to lever it directly in.’ Splash! Another jeer went up. It was going to be a competitive race. She grinned.

  ‘Where the fuck’s Tarek?’ Craig grumbled, jumping into the driver’s seat and turning the engine. Three pairs of eyes scanned the area. Nothing. Craig pulled the truck forward, aligned the rear end with Ash’s instructions and reversed slowly.

  ‘Keep coming,’ Ash said, standing on the
bank, waving her hand, watching the back wheels slowly submerge. ‘Stop,’ she yelled, but the 4x4 kept moving. ‘Stop,’ she yelled again, banging on the side of the truck, bringing it to a halt.

  ‘Here’s Tarek,’ Dan said, pointing at the silver 4x4 heading in their direction.

  ‘Thank fuck,’ Craig mumbled.

  Tarek ambled over, assessing the partly submerged truck. ‘How you gonna get that out?’ he asked.

  ‘No idea ‘n’ I don’t care,’ Craig said. ‘Let’s get this bloody raft into the water before the race starts.'

  Tarek started laughing. ‘Won’t take an hour,’ he said.

  Ash rolled her eyes. Craig’s passion was getting the better of his temperament.

  Tarek climbed onto the back of the truck and assessed the raft. ‘Is this meant to be attached?’ he asked, unhooking one of the straps that had secured the raft for the journey from the base to the river.

  Craig’s cheeks darkened.

  Ash broke into a full belly laugh, Dan shook his head, and Zack rolled his eyes. ‘Right, let’s get this baby landed then,’ Ash said, ‘now that it’s unhooked,’ she added. Even Craig was laughing. ‘You ain’t gonna live that one down bud,’ Ash said, chuckling.

  Craig mumbled, but he was still laughing.

  Another jeer went up as their raft hit the water.

  Craig jumped into the driver’s seat of the partly submerged 4x4 and turned the engine. The truck spun on its wheels, and the crew from Exxon jeered again.

  ‘I’ll pull it out,’ Tarek said, with a wry smile. He meandered over to his car and reversed it towards the stranded vehicle. ‘You just keep hold of that raft,’ he shouted to the others. ‘I’ll hook her up.’

  29.

  Ash pulled herself onto the raft. She swayed with the rocking motion and moved carefully to fix the rudder to the back. Dan and Zack pulled the ropes taut to try to stop the raft shifting. Tarek and Craig had parked the vehicles up and were heading over with the cool-box, and something else.

  ‘Ready.’ she yelled. Craig beamed a grin and handed over a stick with a flag attached to it. Ash started laughing. ‘Where’s that going?’ she asked.

  ‘I made a hole for it,’ Craig responded, pointing to the point on the raft that she hadn’t had time to notice.

  She placed the tapered end into the hole and pushed the pole firmly in place. The white, unmarked, sheet hung limply in the absence of any breeze.

  ‘Great design,’ she teased sarcastically.

  Craig chuckled. ‘I didn’t have time t’ paint it,’ he said.

  Ash slapped him on the arm and nodded to each of them. ‘Grab the paddles,’ she said. Zack released the rope to pick one up, and the raft tilted sharply. ‘Jeez, we’ll be lucky to get to the start line,’ Ash teased.

  Craig grabbed the rope, instructing the others to board first. Dan sat, tentatively at one side. Craig released the string and made a dive for the raft, causing it to heave. Lifting his weight up onto the planks caused it to lean even farther. Dan lost his balance and tumbled into the water. ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Craig complained, grabbing the rudder and taking his position at the back of the raft. Dan spluttered as his head bobbed out of the water. Zack took his arm and pulled him back onto the slatted surface; Ash doubled over with laughter. ‘Right, we need t’ get this over there,’ he said pointing towards the starting area. Dan was flicking the water out of his ears. ‘Get paddlin’ boys,’ Craig ordered.

  ‘Aye, aye Captain,’ they responded, in unison, through fits of giggles.

  Leaning over the boat, paddling upstream, they made their way to the starting area. ‘Fuck, this is knackering,’ Zack complained. His arms were shaking, and his back burned from the hideously uncomfortable, crouched position.

  ‘Yep,’ Craig responded, sitting back and sipping the beer in his hand.

  ‘No fucking chance Johnson.’ The shout from a competitors raft had Craig giving the finger with a broad grin on his face.

  ‘Fuck off Edwards,’ Craig responded, raising the beer in his hand. ‘I’ll see ya when yer get that heap o’ junk pulled outta the water,’ he jested.

  The man called Edwards raised his beer with a laugh. ‘In your dreams.’

  A loud jeer went up. One of the smaller rafts was already sinking.

  ‘It’ll be easier when we’re going downstream,’ Ash said reassuringly, patting Zack on the back and handing him a beer.

  ‘Is it very deep?’ Dan asked, looking at the water, his face pale.

  ‘Just keep your jacket on,’ Ash responded. She was starting to wonder if they would get off the starting line themselves, let alone to the finish line.

  Shouting over a megaphone, interrupted the banter, and the booming of a gun initiated the frantic paddling that ensued. Less than twenty yards into the race and another raft was breaking up.

  ‘Go join the shellfish,’ Craig yelled, laughing hysterically at his own joke as the Shell team started to flounder.

  Ash’s head was down and she was paddling hard, enjoying the physical exertion. She felt strong, exhilarated, and able to take on the world. And, she couldn’t wait to see Iman at the finish line.

  ‘C’mon Ash ya slackin’,’ Craig reprimanded, with a beaming grin.

  He turned the rudder a fraction, having little effect. The boat was still heading to the right.

  ‘Fuck off,’ she teased. She looked up, dipped her paddle into the water and held it firm, redirecting the raft. The boys looked exhausted, and they’d only moved fifty-yards. ‘Let’s let her float for a bit,’ Ash said, downing her paddle and heading for the cool-box.

  ‘No.’ Craig whined. ‘Shifts. Do it in shifts,’ he begged. ‘Look, fuckin’ Edwards’ got twenty-yards on us already.’ He waved his arm downstream, his head on the same tilt as the raft he was observing. ‘Looks a bit unstable mind.’ He chuckled.

  Ash ignored his plea, pulled out the beers and handed them around. Tarek took a long glug and lazed back on his elbows. ‘Shift’s is a good idea,’ he said, a glint in his light-brown eyes.

  ‘Give me a minute,’ Ash said. She slugged her beer, regaining her breath. ‘We’ll take the first shift,’ she said, indicating to Tarek. The younger boys looked wasted already. She leaned over the boat, scooped up some water and splashed it on her face and neck. ‘Fucking hot as hell.’

  ‘Good reason t’ win early,’ Craig said, with unwavering focus.

  Ash puffed out a couple of breaths and nodded to Tarek. In silence, they picked up their paddles and got to work.

  ‘Ahoy there,’ Craig called out, waving like royalty, as they passed the sinking Texaco raft. The crew in the water were struggling to breathe, laughing hysterically as they scrambled to the shore.

  ‘Right, swap,’ Ash said, pulling her paddle from the water and rubbing her burning forearms. ‘Jeez,’ she complained, shaking her right arm. Zack and Dan leapt into place and started to paddle. As she and Tarek shifted to the back, the raft tilted violently, and Zack lost his balance. Splash!

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Craig cursed again, leaping forwards on the raft to hook him out. The boat swayed again, and Ash slid in. Splash!

  As her head surfaced, the water trickling down her face from the river merged with the tears of laughter. She allowed herself to drop down into the cool again, before pulling herself back onto the raft. ‘Will you fucking sit still bud, or you’ll drown us again,’ she teased. Tarek was bent over laughing, as memories of last year’s event came flooding into his mind’s eye. Dan and Zack looked blankly at each other.

  ‘Dan, you steer for a bit,’ Ash said. ‘Right boys,’ let’s paddle.

  ‘C’mon; we’re catchin’ ‘em,’ Craig bellowed, his eyes firmly on Edwards’ boat.

  Ash looked up and pointed. ‘They’re sinking,’ she laughed.

  Craig studied the craft, just a few yards ahead of them. ‘Aha,’ he yelled. ‘Fuckin’ heap a junk,’ he bellowed. A raised middle finger came back at him, and he laughed.

  Easing off with the pa
ddling, they cruised up to the sinking raft. ‘Ya wanna beer Edwards?’ Craig asked, handing a bottle to the man in the water.

  ‘Cheers man,’ Edwards said, with a broad grin, taking the beer. ‘You in good shape?’ he asked, eyeing their raft from water level.

  ‘I reckon,’ Craig responded. The nearest craft to them was about ten-metres back, the suspension bridge was visible, and the finish line was just beyond the bridge.

  ‘Go win this thing man,’ he said, leaning across a piece of wood, sipping from the bottle.

  ‘Go catch a fish,’ Craig responded, giving Edwards the thumbs up. ‘Right, let’s win this race, team.’

  Ash and Tarek assumed their positions at the front of the raft and started to paddle hard. ‘Let’s get some distance between them and us,’ she said, indicating to the Alco raft making ground on them.

  The fire in Tarek’s eyes transferred to his arms. ‘Too fucking right,’ he said. He never swore.

  *

  ‘I can see them, I can see them.’ Niomi was jumping up and down, pointing from the suspension bridge. ‘They’re winning,’ she squealed, grabbing Iman’s arm and squeezing it as she jumped.

  Iman started hopping up and down with her. Was it the adrenaline pumping through her veins that was causing her to feel quite giddy, or the sight of Ash’s blonde hair and toned body, paddling fiercely? She giggled. Her brother on the other side of the raft seemed to be struggling to keep up with Ash’s pace. She started waving both hands furiously, and Niomi joined her.

  ‘Come on Ash,’ Iman yelled, unable to contain her excitement.

  ‘Come on Zack,’ Niomi yelled, simultaneously.

  The man with dark-slicked-back hair, sucked slowly on the cigarette in his hand, observing from a short distance. He took a long sip from the drink in his hand. His eyes refused to move from the two women, celebrating on the bridge. His ears didn’t register the other screams and shouts from loyal supporters, though they afforded him the concealment that enabled him to hear her voice, screaming for another: not him. He sucked down on the cigarette, studied the occupants of the raft, the red rage building in his head. How could she do that to him? How dare she?