The Search for Amira - will it bring resolution, absolution or devastation for Chryed.
This story is told primarily from Syed's point of view, following the altercation with Zainab after she found out from Masood that Christian and Syed want to adopt.
After months of writers block (initiated by the awful surrogacy plot!) I decided that it was time to explore the Syed and Amira story to a conclusion, especially as it seems that Amira might be returning to our screens.
I have a couple of alternate endings for this, if people want I can post both versions, depends just how much angst you can take!
I don't own any of the characters they all belong to Eastenders. This is for everyone on WFCTGIO.
Chapter 1
It never ceases to amaze me that despite the turmoil in our daily lives that Christian can sleep so peacefully. His arms are still wrapped around me, and his face nuzzled into my neck, his breathing is deep and slow and even in repose there is contentment glowing from his face. His presence, his calmness, his tenderness and the rhythm of his heartbeat all seek to reassure me - bring peace and comfort to my body but fail to halt the express train that is running through my head.
How dare she, how dare my mother accuse me of ruining a child's life.
I just wish…..I wish ….
I extricate myself from the tangle of our limbs, caressing his temple as he protests in his sleep and drop kisses round his jaw line to sooth him as I climb out of bed, pour a glass of milk and curl up on the sofa trying to figure out exactly what it is that I wish for.
I wish….that Christian would understand my relationship with my parents. I have no doubt he wants to, that for me he will make the effort, that he feels my pain when they reject me - but can he ever understand me. He walked away from his parents for over 20 years with barely a backward glance. I twist my head round to examine his sleeping form. He has rolled onto his back, having subconsciously dragged my pillow into his embrace, the scent giving him a false sense of my presence. As ever my heart skips a beat at the sight of his muscular frame, he is so beautiful, he has freed me from my self imposed cage, he worships me body and soul, he is my love, my life…and he is so annoying!
The problem with Christian is that he has no faith, no concept of the love of Allah and no desire to acquire it. Oh yes he wants to understand Islam, but for my sake not his. He thinks that me loving my mother, somehow takes away from the love I have for him. He fears my love is finite and has to be shared, whereas I know it is infinite and that the more you give the greater your capability to love becomes. Knowing the love of God also teaches that true love is unconditional. That is why my parents rejection has no more impact on the love I have for them, than the petty bickering that we succumb to, has on my capacity to love him. I have no words to explain this to him.
Is it his lack of faith that causes his insecurity in me? I sigh heavily - why is it that the very traits that drew me to him, that I love about him, are so often the cause of our arguments. I am tinged with guilt, I love his openness and honesty - and yet I expect him to suppress them to suit me.
I smile at the memory of him with that wry grin, dropping on one knee declaring his love for me so wonderfully. It should be a cause of celebration, and what do I do - ask him not to tell anyone else.
He said that no good comes from secrets, the problem is that in my family no good comes from truth either. Masking the truth for the benefit of the outside world has become so much of a habit that we sometimes don't even notice we are doing it. My family have been papering over the cracks for so long, we can no longer find the bonds that tie us. Even poor, sweet, uncomplicated Tambo has been drawn into our tangled web of deceit - I see it gnawing at him and yet it is I who encourage him for the sake of appearances. I should learn - but I don't. I can't….I can't change what has been imprinted on me since birth, at home, at mosque, at school and from community. I have learned by example, I learned from the best, I learned from my mother.
I wish …my parents would accept me. True. I can live with them not liking who I am, I can live with them not liking Christian - but I want them simply to acknowledge and respect the person that I am and to recognise that even if they can not reconcile my life with our faith, that I can.
When I was in Leeds my mother's image was my constant companion, an angel on my shoulder, when I was excited I would turn and talk to her, when I was lost I would hear her words of guidance, when I was hurt I would hear her defending me.
Even at a distance I can read my mother's emotions - she doesn't have to speak, for me to feel her pain, and I cannot bear that I am the cause of her daily distress, I cannot bear that at a time when she needs me more than she has ever done before, I cannot be there for her, I cannot bear her open hostility, I know Christian does not understand it, but the guilt is mine, my desertion set in motion the downward spiral of my family.
Her words ring in my ears…"You left you wife for…that!"
Amira, this is one guilt that Christian does understand - it is the one we share. While it was inevitable, regardless of the choices I made in my life that one day I would disappoint and alienate my father again, and it was inevitable that if I chose happiness that I would wound my mother, Amira was collateral damage that was totally avoidable. She did not deserve the hand that we dealt her. I wonder what has become of her.
A gentle touch to my cheek startles me, I had been so lost in thought I hadn't noticed Christian stirring. His face is distraught and I realise why as he leans forward to kiss the tears which unwanted and unnoticed have escaped and rolled recklessly down my face.
"I'm sorry Sy, I was so out of order talking to Masood."
"So you should be….." but I cover his hand with mine, "I forgive you"
"Do you want to talk?"
I shake my head.
I wish…..that I was not the cause of Christian's distress, that I could discharge his fears.
I am tired from too much thinking.
"Make it all go away Christian" I plead.
He pulls me onto his lap, envelops me in his arms and with his lips close to my ear breathes my name sending shivers down my body. He whispers words of love, of comfort, of lust. Promises of current pleasures, future dreams and a paradise where all my wishes are granted.
The "angel on my shoulder" disappears lest she should fall under his spell or be tainted by the strength of his conviction. I promise myself as soon as Tamwar's wedding is over I will attend to ours. I need to close the chapter with Amira and seal my commitment to Christian.
His hand tilts my chin and his lips capture mine. As my heart starts to race, blood and adrenaline pumps through my body, my brain finally slows. By the time he draws me back to bed, all my wishes are uncomplicated and hold promise of complete fulfilment, in my mind there is him …. there is only him.