Mum told him she had taken her most precious jewels to Dobříč; Dad became very angry. Mum, speaking between sobs, told him to be quiet so as not to wake us.
‘It’s all your fault! You and that big-mouth mother of yours!’ he scolded. He lowered his voice but spat the words at her contemptuously.
‘So you think it’s not a tragedy for me too?’ she replied.
‘You don’t understand! I needed that money! You were supposed to bring it back here!’
‘It was both of our fortunes. Don’t you think I feel as bad as you do?’ Her voice was still raw from crying.
I peered out from behind the door and saw her sitting on the couch. Her eyes were red and her hands were trembling.
My father was standing over Mum, while she kept her eyes down. He muttered something incomprehensible. Then he hissed at her in Arabic, ‘You are incompetent.’ He left, slamming the door on the other side of the room.
I waited a moment before going to her.
She quickly dried her eyes and smiled as soon as she saw me. ‘What are you still doing up?’
‘What were you and Baba talking about? Is he mad at me?’ He had been remote lately and I was again afraid I had done something to annoy him.
‘Why no, dear, what are you saying? You don’t have anything to do with it.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘Nothing, just a little incident.’
I pressed for a more plausible explanation.
‘Babička said that last night two strangers came to her house with a pistol. They made her give them all of our money and jewels,’ Mum confided.
‘Did they hurt her?’ I asked, concerned. It seemed so unreal to me.
‘No, but they took everything. Everything.’
‘So that’s why Baba got mad. Now what are we going to do?’
Mum smiled at my innocence. ‘Don’t worry, we’re not completely without money. Even if it was a lot, it was from a special savings fund we had put away a while ago.’
‘To do what?’ I asked.
‘We wanted to buy a house in Europe because we’re really worried about this war.’
‘But we’ve already got a house – this one. I don’t want to go away from here,’ I wailed. The idea of leaving Baghdad was unthinkable.
‘Well, don’t worry. Now this has happened we won’t be going anywhere.’ She stared at the ground, defeated.
The atmosphere around the house was tense for a few days. My father came home late from work, wearing a sullen expression on his face. On the weekend, as always, we went to Bibi’s house.
Kasside received my mother very coldly, greeting her with a forced smile and looking her up and down with sharp eyes. Bibi sat staring glacially at Mum as she kissed her hands. Perhaps my father had told them what had happened? Ahlam sat near Mum at the table. Although she insisted Mum eat something, my mother sat mute and still, staring down at her plate. No-one tried to talk to her. They all seemed embarrassed.
As time passed, it was finally apparent things had calmed down. Dad continued to work long hours. He rarely dined with us but always came to kiss my sisters and me goodnight before going to bed. After a few weeks, the money incident seemed to retreat into the background, and life was restored to relative peace as before. But things were different. The tenderness my parents had always shared had dissipated.
I spent a lot of afternoons at the club – a happy oasis where time stood still.
Uday was still very nice to me. He never missed the chance to exchange a few words, or to offer me a drink whenever we met. He would stare at me with an intense look that was difficult to resist, just like his gallantry. He was different from his friends; young playboys who prowled for girls. Dani said she had never seen Uday be so attentive with any other girl.
Uday seemed important already, even though he was of young age. One day I heard him rather arrogantly give orders to one of his bodyguards, as if he was showing off. But with me, he was almost excessively kind. His regal bearing and reputation made me feel like a queen. I avoided the other girls’ glares when he would stop to talk to me. Then, jokingly, I threw the rumours of him being a playboy in his face. My impertinence seemed to amuse rather than outrage him.
Uday invited me to a concert the club was having, and Dad had given me permission without even knowing why I was keen to go. After spending the day at the pool, Dani and I got ready for dinner. I put on a red dress with puffed sleeves and a belt decorated with a white embroidered geometric theme. The same motif ran all around the hem of my dress, which fell just above the knee. I was nervous. Uday had been polite in inviting me but, then, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to put myself on display in front of everyone by being seated at his side.
I bored Dani during dinner with my dilemma. The more she tried to convince me to go, the more hesitant I became. We ran into Uday as we were leaving the restaurant. He was more forward than usual.
‘So …’ he began, ‘I’ll wait for you at my table, Michelle, with my friends.’ He had a languished look on his face that made my heart flutter. Certain I would show up, he left, smiling. ‘Later!’
I couldn’t tell him no, but the idea of being in the spotlight – with him – was making me anxious. I decided to remain distant. I chose a spot where I could see Uday without being seen.
From my perch, I noticed Uday searching for me amongst the crowd. He scanned the entrance and the other tables throughout the concert. I saw him sit down on an empty seat and strum his fingers to the rhythm of the music as he kept looking around. After an hour, he got up and walked away, disappearing from my sight.
‘Michelle! Where did you go?’ Uday’s voice surprised me from behind. ‘I waited for you a long time!’
‘I didn’t know you were there. You scared me.’
‘Why didn’t you come to my table?’ he asked angrily. Then, seeing my embarrassment, he continued, ‘I understand, you probably didn’t feel like it. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to take a walk? This music is good but a little deafening.’ He offered me his arm. I placed my hand in the bend of his elbow and we moved away from the arena.
We walked in silence for a while. Far away from the lights, the moon shone with a bright white beam. I could hear the music in the distance, along with the sound of running water in the brook curving through the centre of the lawn. The scent of jasmine filled the air and mixed with Uday’s cologne as he walked by my side. We sat down on a bench near the water. All was serene.
‘The moon seems really close tonight,’ he said looking up at the luminous disc in the sky, ‘and you are really very pretty, Michelle, ya habìbtì, my love …’
I blushed and lowered my eyes, focusing on my quivering hands. To mask my discomfort, I said the first thing that came into my head. ‘My nickname is Raghdde.’
‘Clearness of moonlight, just like tonight.’ Uday reached out for my hand, which was frozen in anticipation. He brushed his hand against my fingers, then moved it slowly to my wrist, up along my arm until it reached my shoulder. He played with a lock of my hair. He moved his eyes from his hand on my shoulder to my mouth. We remained this close for a long time. I didn’t move. His touch bewitched me. Placing his hand on the nape of my neck, he pulled me even closer to him. I felt his soft lips against mine. I could taste a sweetness, complemented by the masculine scent of his aftershave. He squeezed me tighter and I lost myself in his arms. It was a perfect, gentle, sensual kiss. For a second, I asked myself if I was dreaming. He stroked his fingers through my hair and smiled. It was magical, and for the briefest of moments, I imagined that the club was our kingdom and I was his queen.
Bibi sat proudly on her favourite chair, waiting for us to greet her.
Before entering the big room, we always removed our shoes. Dad helped Linda while Klara had already slipped inside, kicking off her shoes.
Mum followed us with a happy air about her that we hadn’t seen in a while. Just as she bowed to take Grandma’s hand, Bibi suddenly seized her cane, pointing
wildly.
‘That shoe! The shoe!’ she yelled. ‘Bad luck and misfortune! Turn it immediately! IMMEDIATELY!’
One of Klara’s shoes had been overturned, which was a bad omen according to the family’s superstitions. ‘The underside towards the sky is an affront to Allah,’ Aunt Kasside always said. Ahlam ran to turn it at once, but when Mum kissed Bibi’s hands, Bibi kept her gaze fixed on the shoe, as if the damage was irreparable.
We all sat together on the couches, where glasses of tea started to pass from hand to hand. I took some watermelon seeds from the bowl. The fresh aroma of bread toasting on the little stove reached the living room, mixing with the sweet perfumes of my aunts. The conversations, disrupted by our arrival, revived.
Ahlam asked my mother how she was doing while Samar, seated next to me, pulled me by the wrist. ‘Let me see this bracelet! Look how nice it is, Sundus,’ she said to her sister. ‘It’s just like the one I wanted.’
‘But you have one just like it!’ Sundus responded.
‘This one has little bits of turquoise, it’s prettier.’
‘I’m expecting another child.’ My mother’s voice broke through the din.
We turned towards her. Her mouth was turned up in a slight smile.
Everything stopped for a few seconds. Kasside froze with her hand in the air. No-one said a word. Mum raised her head and saw the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. Kasside turned around, to see her mother’s reaction. Bibi stayed mute and impassive in her armchair. Wrapped in a veil and white garments, her indecipherable expression made her look like a marble statue.
My father was the first to move, putting his arm around Mum’s shoulders. He already knew about this pregnancy; she had told him before announcing it.
‘I’m four months along … even if I don’t show much with these baggy clothes. I just look like I’ve gained a little weight,’ Mum continued, smiling. ‘I have a surprise: the doctor thinks it’s a boy.’
Slowly, the whole family reacted, slightly forced smiles all around. Dad hugged Mum while Ahlam got up to congratulate her. She did it throwing meaningful looks in the direction of Kasside. It seemed as if they were hiding something. Since her daughter Esmàa had married Samìr, Ahlam had changed a lot. These days when talking to my mother she appeared detached. She had strengthened her ties with Aunt Kasside, increasing her prestige and importance within the family.
I was confused. I hadn’t noticed Mum’s pregnancy, and this was really extraordinary news: a boy! Dad and my aunts had wanted a boy child so much – it perplexed me that they weren’t jumping for joy. Nobody was elated by the prospect of this miracle as perhaps my mother had expected. Aunt Kasside seemed to be particularly withdrawn. She abruptly congratulated Mum, then put herself to work gathering the tea glasses on a tray and made for the kitchen. She signalled to her sister Ahlam to follow.
I hadn’t stopped thinking of Uday since that night of the full moon, when we had been so close. After the kiss we had gone back arm-in-arm towards the club, stopping close to a bougainvillea bush that shielded us from the open lawns. Uday kissed me again, this time on the cheek, saying goodbye with the most enchanting of looks.
Dani caught up with me shortly after, and I told her everything. He was really taken, according to her. It was said he courted girls regularly, more than one at a time, and didn’t give this kind of attention to everyone. I didn’t know if he went out with other girls, or if I was the only one he flirted with, but at that moment it didn’t matter to me. Sometimes I doubted whether it was all real, but then his face – so close to mine – reappeared in my thoughts. I remembered the fresh breeze in that magical instant before we kissed.
I told Mum about my date with Uday. While we were lying on the couch talking about the new baby, I confessed Uday had made advances towards me. She wasn’t enthusiastic. ‘Don’t play with fire, Michelle. These sorts of people could have a secret agenda. Be careful. Don’t ever trust them,’ she warned.
Dad entered the room, smiling as he opened an envelope. ‘I’ve got a surprise! Who wants to see?’
We ran towards him, curious. Linda was jumping up and down like a cricket.
‘I have a present for you – a vacation.’ Dad pulled out some plane tickets.
‘Where are you taking us?’ I asked.
‘I booked you a suite in that beautiful hotel in Pattaya you love so much. Happy?’
‘Yes, but there’s only four tickets. There’s been a mistake,’ Mum had taken the tickets out of his hand and was reading the names on them.
‘No, no mistake. Unfortunately I can’t come. I have a lot of work to do. You all go. You know the city well already. You’ll have fun,’ he added.
‘What? You’re really not coming? Then what use is it for us to go?’ my mother enquired, confused.
‘Jana, don’t you think you deserve a vacation? Especially after these past two fatiguing months, and now with the new baby along the way. You have to relax and get back in shape.’
Mum was upset. ‘It won’t be the same without you. We can wait. We’ll go another time, with all of us together.’
‘No, I insist. It’s my gift to all of you and I want you to go.’ He patted her hair, then went to lie down on the couch, and turned up the volume on the television.
Mum stared at the tickets in her hands. Deep down, the idea of going on vacation wasn’t so bad, even if it would have been her first without Dad. The lively screams of Linda and Klara, already rummaging through the wardrobes to pack their suitcases, brought her back to reality. I sat down next to my father.
‘I’m sorry you’re not coming with us. When we get back, will you take me to work one day with you, to Shar’ El Saadùn? I can walk around the shops while you work. Then we can have lunch together, like we used to.’
‘We’ll see. Now let me relax.’ He rested an arm on his forehead as if he wanted to sleep.
‘But you haven’t taken me in a long time. It’s been months.’
‘I’ve been very busy lately as you know,’ he said tiredly as he turned away from me.
Pattaya hadn’t changed since our first trip; it was the atmosphere in our family that was completely different. We really felt Dad’s absence.
Before leaving, we pestered Dad to meet up with us until he gave in. It was hard trying to get him to commit, making it even more disappointing when he cancelled his plans to join us at the last minute.
The magic of the place where we had once been so happy seemed to be lost; now Pattaya was a place like any other. It was my father who had made it special. He knew how to transform the mundane into the fantastic, making us truly appreciate the moment. It all seemed dull without him.
Our room was the same one that overlooked the pretty terrace where, two years before, wearing my gold shoes, I had seen him and my mother raise their glasses to the music of a live string quartet. Happiness seemed so far away and I didn’t know why. Surely we were still the same family? Sure my father had become increasingly distant, spent a lot less time with us, and some discussions with Mum were more difficult, but many other things had changed too: the war, that ugly incident with the money, and Linda, Klara and I were all growing up. We weren’t babies anymore.
I watched my mother trying to relax. Laid out on the armchair, she kept her eyes closed and rubbed her blossoming belly with her hand. Would the baby boy be the favourite now? I was certain this long-awaited male would return the smile to my dad’s face. I willed my unborn brother to bring the serenity back to our lives.
As we walked into our house, my mother stopped abruptly. She had a sad expression on her face. My sisters ran to their rooms, where their dolls and toys awaited. I still had my arms full of bags.
At the airport, Dad had embraced the three of us girls with warmth, but gave Mum an awkward hug, as if she were a distant relative, not his pregnant wife. She was upset but pretended to ignore it. It was tense in the car the entire way home. Mum recounted our time in Pattaya to Dad, but he seemed despondent and d
idn’t ask any questions. He didn’t show any interest in what we had been up to. Now, there in the living room, he took no notice of her, busying himself with the suitcases.
Mum was behaving strangely. She went to the couch and lifted up the cushions. She then went into the bathroom and riffled through the drawers. In the bedroom, I heard her open the wardrobes and look through her clothes. She went into the kitchen and opened the cabinet doors. For a moment she stood staring, as if she were petrified, bringing a hand to her mouth.
‘Who’s been here?’ she whispered to herself. I heard her go back in the living room, to my father, and ask him, ‘Who’s been here? Who did you bring into our house?’
I tried to listen in. They started speaking in English again. Mum was trying to keep her composure. Dad looked at her without saying anything.
Her tone became firmer. ‘Tell me! Tell me who was here while we were away! Who did you bring into my house?’ She grabbed him by the shoulders. They said something to each other in a tone so low it escaped me.
Then he took her by the wrists, ‘It’s my house, Jana, and I’ll bring in whomever I feel like.’
‘There’s somebody else, isn’t there? You’re seeing another woman and you brought her here,’ she said faintly.
My father stared at her as if her words meant nothing. My mother followed him as he turned away. ‘Somebody has rearranged the house. They’ve touched my things. She has even stuck her nose in my closet! I’m missing at least three outfits! Is there another woman? Tell me the truth!’ She was becoming ever more desperate for an answer but my father remained mute. He looked at her as if she were crazy. ‘Tell me, Mohamed!’
‘Yes. There’s someone else,’ he answered matter-of-factly.
My mother threw herself at him, beating her fists against his chest. ‘Why? Why?’
He grabbed her by the wrists again, glaring at her dishevelled form. When she calmed down he let her go. She instinctively put her hands on her belly as if to protect the baby, then ran to lock herself in the bedroom.
The Girl from Baghdad Page 11