The Carmel Sheehan Story

by Jean Grainger

  ‘OK, I’ve tried waiting for you to tell me what’s wrong, but you won’t, so I see I’m going to have to extract it.’

  He led her to the courtyard of their apartment. The plants she had sown last summer, when she arrived, were blooming in profusion, and the fragrance of the lilac and sweet pea was heady.

  ‘If we have to sit here till tonight, I want to know what’s up. You’ve been distracted for the last few days, and sometimes I watch you and you’re a million miles away and, judging by the look on your face, it’s not somewhere pleasant, so I’m worried.’ His voice was soothing and gentle as always. ‘Remember, we agreed—no secrets, no keeping things in, we say what we feel.’

  Carmel sighed. ‘OK... I don’t want to go to Ireland.’

  ‘OK.’ He paused. ‘The first thing is you’re a grown adult...’

  ‘I know, I know...’ She finished his mantra: ‘I’m a grown adult who can make her own decisions.’

  For her first forty years, she’d never had any autonomy. Everyone else had decided what would happen, and she was expected to fall in with it. Sharif was gradually trying to give her back that independence.

  ‘But my dad has gone to so much trouble, and he loves Ireland so much, and he hates that I just don’t feel the same way about the place. If I back out, I’d feel like I was letting him down—I would be letting him down—and they’ve all done so much, been so welcoming, especially considering a year ago he didn’t even know I existed.

  ‘I know it’s not too much to ask to go on a little holiday with my family. And, of course, the wedding, it will be the first time I meet all these cousins and aunts and uncles, and I know he’s dying for me to meet them. I longed for a family for most of my life, but it just all feels...I don’t know, overwhelming? And then there’s Tim; he’s getting cold feet as well, apparently, for different reasons maybe—I don’t know. I told Dad I’d speak to him. And now Nadia needs some way to cope with your auntie, which is a further complication, and to be honest, I’m happier here than I’ve ever been anywhere, and I just don’t want to go back.’

  ‘All right, now tell me exactly why you hate the thought of it so much.’ Sharif held her hand, making small circles on her palm with his thumb, which she found strangely relaxing.

  Carmel thought for a moment. ‘Because I think—and I know this is mad—but I’m afraid I’ll be that person, the woman I was when you met me first, if I go back. My independence, the courage I’ve got, is all to do with moving away from all of that, and going back, well, it feels...terrifying, if I’m honest. Back there, I didn’t know about my mother, my father, nothing. I was nobody.’ She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. ‘Here, in Aashna, I’m not nobody. I’m Carmel the events manager, Carmel the friend, Carmel the daughter. Here, I’m your wife. Things I never dreamed I could be.

  He drew her into his arms and held her tight. ‘What would Dolly say?’

  Carmel didn’t answer.

  ‘I’ll tell you, shall I?’ He took her phone from her pocket, scrolled to her videos, and selected the one of Dolly’s last birthday party, in Aashna, a few months before she died. Carmel watched the video every day.

  There her mother was, in a wheelchair, wearing a blue dress and red lipstick, and a birthday girl hat. She sang in her unmistakable Dublin accent:

  ‘When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, what will I be? Will I be handsome? Will I be rich? Here’s what she said to me. Que sera, sera, whatever will be will be. The future’s not ours to see, que sera, sera.’

  Sharif paused the video before Dolly gave her speech, and looked down into Carmel’s eyes.

  ‘When you were a little girl, she moved heaven and earth to find you, but your grandfather made sure she never could. If she was here now, she’d say, “What will be, will be, Carmel, my love, but go forward, face the future with bravery.” You are one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, and I know it must be scary, but you’re a different person now, you’re stronger, and you can do this. You might even enjoy it. But in this, just like everything else, we’re a team. If you decide you can’t or you really don’t want to go, then I’ve got your back, 100 percent. Always.’

  She thought about bringing up the other thing, the pregnancy or lack of it, but didn’t. ‘Thanks. I know you have, and I really appreciate it. It’ll be fine, I suppose, and I’ll have everyone with me, and Joe assures me we’re not going near Birr, County Offaly.’

  ‘I don’t know, maybe Julia would invite us all for tea?’ Sharif teased.

  ‘Unless you wanted it laced with arsenic, I wouldn’t be drinking anything she made you.’ Carmel didn’t need to remind him of the lengths her ex-husband’s sister was willing to go to hurt them. She’d tried to destroy Aashna last year, colluding with a criminal to bring a malpractice suit against Sharif. In the end, Carmel had had to visit Bill in Birr to get him to call her off. Carmel swore she would never go back to Ireland that day—the day she left Bill and the lonely farm for good—and yet here she was, making plans to return to the country of her birth.

  Chapter 3

  Carmel strained to hear the actual words of the announcement over the tinny PA system of the airport. The screen said the flight from Karachi was due to land in forty-five minutes, and she and Nadia were sitting in a coffee shop killing time. Nadia stirred her coffee so much it was as if she was trying to wear through the cup. She drummed her fingers and fidgeted constantly.

  ‘Nadia, can you just try to relax? If you meet her like this then it’s going to start off on the wrong foot and that’s only going to upset you.’

  Nadia had been up since the dawn trying to identify and rectify anything with which Zeinab could find fault. Sharif couldn’t accompany her to the airport as he was in meetings all morning, so Carmel offered her services as a chauffeur.

  ‘I know, I just wish...’

  They both knew what she wished: that Zeinab hadn’t decided to sooth her allegedly broken heart in London with her only sister. Nadia had seemed unusually silent every time Zeinab went on about her ‘darling Tariq.’ Whenever Carmel tried to talk to Nadia about her sister in the weeks leading up to the visit, it had ended with Nadia listing all the reasons why the idea of Zeinab visiting was so terrible.

  Eventually, after much gentle probing on Carmel’s part, Nadia had told her the story of how she and Zeinab had grown up together in Karachi’s Garden East area, called so because it was surrounded by the Karachi Zoological Gardens. Carmel loved to hear stories of life in Pakistan, and Sharif promised her they would visit his home country just as soon as they got some time. It all sounded so exotic and magical. Interestingly, up to then, Nadia’s stories about their childhoods had always showed Zeinab in a good light.

  This time, though, Nadia explained how Zeinab had married Tariq, a man older than her but with excellent credentials, a business associate of their father’s. Nadia confided in Carmel how she and Zeinab used to make fun of Tariq when he came to the house to discuss business. When their parents sat her older sister down and told her that Tariq had asked for her hand in marriage, Nadia had laughed uproariously at such a suggestion, but Zeinab had agreed, much to her sister’s horrified bewilderment.

  From Nadia’s point of view, the match made no sense whatsoever, but their parents were traditional, and arranged marriages were the norm. Though, Nadia was quick to point out they were more enlightened than many of their friends and would never have forced their daughters into a marriage they didn’t want. Nadia tried to talk her sister out of it; Tariq was as old as the hills, she claimed, and had hairy ears, and was too short, and his breath smelled bad. Despite her giving Zeinab any amount of other reasons why she should not marry Tariq, Zeinab was determined. Tariq had a fabulous apartment in Clifton, overlooking the beach. He had lots of staff, so his new wife would not need to lift a finger, and all the international designer stores were on their doorstep.

  Even the night before the wedding, Nadia begged her sister to reconsider, trying to make her see tha
t money and status were no substitute for love, but Zeinab accused her of being jealous and naive. Things were never the same between the sisters after that.

  Two years later, Nadia married Khalid Khan, a man her family didn’t really approve of because he wasn’t from the right neighbourhood and his family were not wealthy, but they finally agreed to the match because they saw how much the young people meant to each other. Nadia often told Carmel the story of the day she met the man she would marry, when her scarf blew away in a sudden gust of wind and this young man ran to retrieve it. He walked beside her all the way home, telling her stories and making her laugh. It was not the done thing for young ladies from respectable backgrounds to be seen walking with strange men, but Nadia was so taken with him she didn’t rush away. He begged to meet her again, and she slipped out to the market the following day, claiming she needed something, just to see Khalid. After weeks of secret meetings, where they would meet for a few moments of conversation, he asked to meet her family. He professed his love and his desire to marry her before they’d even held hands.

  It was a topic Nadia loved to talk about, so Carmel thought it might be a good way to pass some time now in the airport.

  ‘Tell me again about the night your parents met Khalid; I love that story.’

  Nadia smiled. ‘I know what you’re doing, and I appreciate it, Carmel, but I’m not yet an old lady in a nursing home telling the same story over and over you know!’

  A young couple with a toddler and a baby and a huge amount of luggage squeezed past them into the cafe. Carmel noted the baby sleeping in a sling on the woman’s chest, and she felt a longing so intense it almost took her breath away. She tried to get back to Nadia; such thoughts were not helping her at all.

  She smiled and placed her hand on Nadia’s. ‘I know you’re not, but I never had any stories like this when I was a kid, so I like hearing them now. It makes me feel more connected or something, so go on.’ Carmel made a funny face, and Nadia grinned and retold the story. Carmel wondered at the glow that came over the older woman’s face as she recounted her own personal love story.

  She began as she always did, with the first night he came to their house, when she was so nervous she threw up. If her parents were not seduced by Khalid Khan’s charm, the marriage would be forbidden. He had no fortune, and his father had only a small shoe shop in Orangi Town, not the most fashionable of areas.

  When she asked if he could come, both her parents were horrified. Firstly, that she would suggest a man not of their choosing, and secondly, that this was someone she had clearly lied to them about in order to meet. He was not connected to their circle in any way, so she must have had unchaperoned and unsanctioned meetings with this man. It wasn’t the best of starts.

  As the crowds milled around, waiting for the flights coming from places Carmel had never even thought about, Nadia reminisced.

  ‘Oh, Carmel, the fear. My father was a gentle, kind man, but he was a proud Pakistani and a Muslim, and this was just not how things were done. It was a testament to how much he loved me that he even considered meeting Khalid. My mother said nothing, but I knew she didn’t approve, either. Khalid arrived, bless him, in his best suit and in a pair of shoes I later realised had been handed in to his father’s shop for repair. He brought my mother flowers from his mother—in our culture, it isn’t appropriate for a male visitor to give a female a gift unless it came from another female. Then he and my father withdrew to the study.’

  Carmel smiled at how the other woman’s eyes shone with love for this young shoemaker’s son, even now, all these years later.

  ‘So, obviously, it worked—he charmed them?’ Carmel asked.

  ‘Yes, it worked. My father saw a bright young man, who, though he may not have come from money or status, was a very hard worker, and he knew Khalid would take care of me. It was a great leap of faith for someone like my father, but he took it and agreed to the marriage. Zeinab told our parents they were being foolish to allow it, and that they were always too soft when it came to me. She always said that, that they were harder on her, but I don’t think that’s true.

  ‘She said there was no way she could associate with me if I insisted on marrying someone so far beneath us in social status. On and on she went about how embarrassing it was for her and Tariq, what would people say and all of that rubbish. Where Tariq was heavyset and short, with a gruff attitude and terrible table manners, Khalid was tall and handsome and funny and everyone who met him fell under his spell. I think she was just envious. Tariq gave her a lovely lifestyle, true enough, but he was constantly unfaithful.’

  She noted Carmel’s look of surprise. This part of the story was new to her.

  ‘Oh, yes, that’s one of the strange things about some people in our culture. Not everyone, of course, but a significant cohort of Pakistani men, back there anyway, enjoy a forgiving society when it comes to extramarital affairs. Sometimes, faithfulness is not expected, and society would not condemn a man for cheating, often not even the wife. Of course, for women, no such understanding is shown. Tariq was discreet, spending time in clubs where women were available and such, but never in public. He would have considered that the height of consideration for Zeinab, almost like she should be grateful he was being so considerate. Some other men in his circle would have made no secret of their mistresses, which is humiliating for the wife. Zeinab knew about his affairs, he didn’t try that hard to hide them, but she never confronted him or even admitted she knew.’

  ‘How awful for her,’ Carmel murmured.

  ‘That’s not the half of it. One evening, soon after Khalid and I were engaged, Tariq came to our house. I was in the kitchen helping our mother, and she was called away to deal with something, and when she left, he came in and made a pass at me. I was horrified and reacted angrily—he really was a horrid old goat—but Zeinab arrived just as I was giving him a good dressing down. I was not the typical demure Pakistani girl, even then.’ She chuckled her deep, throaty laugh.

  ‘Oh my God, did Zeinab realise what had happened?’

  ‘Yes, and she was mortified, but instead of taking it out on her awful, lecherous husband, she blamed me. She accused me of flirting with him, as if I would, and we had a terrible fight.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Carmel gasped.

  ‘Over the years, things mellowed a little, and we got on up to a point, though she never stops criticising. The only reason there hasn’t been a huge blow-up between us is because I live here and she stayed in Karachi. Whenever we’ve visited over the years, it has been tense, and we’ve spent as little time together as possible. So why she is now coming here, after everything, is a total mystery.’

  ‘But she likes Sharif?’ Carmel asked.

  ‘Oh, yes, she loves him, and she loved Khalid too, in the end. He was relentlessly charming, long after he needed to be, it was just his way. But she never really forgave me. Our lives were in such sharp contrast. Khalid never would cheat on me, he treated me wonderfully, I was his whole world. Even though, as far as she sees it, I married beneath me in terms of class, I got to marry for love, to a man who adored me, and to add even more insult to injury, I had a son. She never had children, and I think it made her so sad. I heard that Tariq had two children with one of his mistresses, but that might just be gossip. That’s why it is so complicated between us. I feel sorry for her, of course I do, who wouldn’t? But she makes it so difficult to like her.’

  ‘She must have felt like you got it all,’ Carmel said. ‘That must be hard.’

  ‘Yes, exactly, and on top of it all, she was jealous of Dolly. Your mother was much more of a sister to me than Zeinab ever was. Any time they met, they knocked sparks off each other. Zeinab accused me of confiding in Dolly more than her, of loving Dolly more than her, and of course she was right. That’s the sad thing. She was absolutely right.’Nadia just stared at the table, lost in her own thoughts.

  Carmel thought back to the secret Sharif had shared with her about his father. On Khalid’s deathb
ed, he’d confessed to his son that he had been unfaithful to Nadia years earlier, but that it had meant nothing and that it was just once. Some woman he had known years ago in Karachi, she came to London and they’d had one night and she returned to Pakistan, never to make contact again. Sharif had told Carmel how he had been so appalled and accused his father of keeping quiet not to protect his family but to protect himself. He told her how he’d stormed out of the hospital, horrified that his beloved father would betray his mother in that way. Sharif had spoken to Dolly about it at the time, knowing he could trust her, and he’d told Carmel he would never forget the answer she gave him.

  Apparently, Dolly had claimed that the truth was totally overrated. She calmed Sharif and explained that if Khalid had admitted it to Nadia, the marriage would have been over. She would never have taken him back. Nadia, unlike her sister, was not one of those who would turn a blind eye to a philandering husband. And so, by bearing the guilt alone all those years, Khalid had saved his wife the heartache of betrayal and spared his son a broken home. According to Sharif, Dolly had a way of explaining things that made the most incomprehensible things seem simple.

  For the millionth time, Carmel wished Sharif had found her just a few months earlier. She would have given anything for just ten minutes with her mother.

  Carmel dismissed the futile dream and returned to the matter at hand.

  Nadia never knew her darling husband had been unfaithful to her, and she never would.

  ‘Poor Zeinab, of course she resented my mother,’ Carmel said gently. ‘I mean, I know she can be a pain, but she’s had a lot to deal with too. Look, we’ll get through this, I promise you. Sharif and I will be there a lot. If it gets too much, you can come round to ours and scream or punch things. And if we can convince her to come to Ireland with us, then the McDaids will charm her for sure.’

  Nadia smiled and sat back, thinking for a moment. ‘When it became evident that I was only going to have one child, I convinced myself Sharif was all anyone could want. And he is—I adore him, as you know—but it is so nice to have a daughter. Your mother and I talked about you a lot, never knowing where you were, how you were getting along, but we would look at women out shopping with their little girls and we both felt it, a little pang. I feel like we’re getting the chance now, not just me, but Dolly, too.’