I want to explore the healing power of love in all its forms:
-the enduring and total love we know these two men have for each other
-the love and respect of brothers
-the love and faith in God/Allah or any other higher entity
-and who knows, maybe even eventually the unconditional parental love so sorely missing from this story so far.
It was the second time he'd called the number and the second time it had been cut off .
Tamwar stood under a lamp in the otherwise dark alley with his brother's phone in his hand. "Come on Tambo, you have to do this, you have to speak to him". He slapped his thigh as if to give himself extra encouragement and then scrolled down to the only 'C' in Syed's contacts list- he'd not deleted the number. This time, he got an immediate response.
"Sy, please, you have to stop this... Please stop ringing me and..." "This isn't Syed, it's Tamwar" he interrupted quickly, in case Christian cut him off a third time. " Please, I need your help, I need to speak to you. I don't know who else to turn to..Please, I beg you".
Christian had been on the point of cutting the caller off but there was something in Tamwar's pleading tone, something which immediately made his heart miss a beat. He knew who this call would be about. 6 months on and still the thought of him made Christian weak at the knees.
"Ok, Tamwar, you have 2 minutes" He tried to sound irritated and forceful but in fact his stomach was churning, worried about what Tamwar was going to say to him.
"Thankyou Christian, It's about Syed, he needs help and you are the only person I can think of that he'll listen to."
"Tamwar, it's been 6 months, I've moved on" He hoped he sounded convincing.
"I know, and believe me, I wouldn't have got in touch but I have tried everything else and I know now that only you can help, you're the only one who can help him out of the mess he's in. Please, it's breaking my heart that I can't do any more for him. I can't bear the thought of losing him."
"Losing him" Those words were like stab wounds to Christian's heart. He could hear Tamwar desperately trying not to cry.
"Ok, I'll meet you. Where are you?"
"We're in a bedsit on Stacey Street, behind the Phoenix Theatre, off Charing Cross Road. Do you know it?"
"I sure do" he replied. Of course he knew it. Soho, Covent Garden, Old Compton Street, all his old stomping ground from the long gone carefree BS days as he called them, – before Syed. He knew that area like the back of his hand. " I can be there in an hour".
Precisely 56 minutes later, Christian was knocking on the door of the bedsit. He heard hurried footsteps and a second later he was face to face with Tamwar. He wasn't expecting to be enveloped in a grateful hug or to have those eyes, so reminiscent of his elder brother's, stare deeply into his. "Thankyou for coming, Christian, I really didn't know who else to turn to. Come on upstairs, but be quiet, he's sleeping at long last."
Christian took a sharp intake of breath. He was here – 6 months and 5 days since they had last seen each other. "Where is he? I want to see him". Tamwar opened a door into a dark and dingy room. There was one small single bed, one small bedside cabinet with a Quran lying open and a small bedside lamp with a bulb which gave off just enough light to be able to see. Oh and what a sight greeted him. There he was lying on the bed but he bore no resemblance to the Syed of old. Sy had never been any more than slender – they always made a joke about how they were little and large – but what was in front of him now was an emaciated bag of bones. And that wonderful, long luscious black hair which had caused Christian to gasp the first time he saw it, was a long dull, dirty pleated mass of knots. He put his hand to his mouth to stifle a cry and tears welled up in his eyes. Tamwar tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the door. He walked out backwards, never once taking his eyes off that pathetic figure lying on the bed.
In the small kitchenette, Tamwar motioned Christian to the only seat in the room and turned to switch on the kettle.
"Tell me everything Tamwar – what has happened? I need to know"
"There isn't an awful lot to tell – well until about 5 weeks ago. After mum set fire to Syed's clothes, he couldn't go back there but he couldn't be on his own either so while dad stayed at home to deal with mum- she had a nervous breakdown by the way – was sectioned for a short time- I moved in to the flat with Syed to look after him. He was still weak from the suicide attempt and wouldn't go out. He told me he couldn't face everyone – but I think he really meant he couldn't face seeing you with someone else. He saw you, you know, as we were coming home from the hospital, with that guy. He cried all night "
Christian lowered his gaze as he thought about his behaviour then –he was not proud of himself. Alex had been a means to an end, a way of taking away the pain and hurt but it was a stupid, stupid idea. He knew Syed had seen him, he recognised Masood's car, and he deliberately kissed Alex in a fit of pique and spite.
"Anyway, 3 days later, I got up and went into the kitchen and found a note on the table. It said he had to get away, he needed to be on his own and he was sorry for all the hurt and damage he had caused. I was to tell mum and dad that he loved them and to give Kamil a daily cuddle for him. He said he'd keep in touch with me by phone.
And that's what happened. Every day for the first thee months, I'd get a text or a call from him. He'd ask how we were doing including asking if you were ok. He didn't miss asking that question for a single day. Of course, when you moved away, I couldn't give him any news and he stopped asking."
Christian felt the tears run down his face – he couldn't believe that in spite of it all, Sy wanted to know how he was.
" He always said he was doing fine, living in the West End, making enough money to get by but I could tell there was a false bravado to his cheery tone. Eventually though, the calls and texts became less regular. Sometimes 2 or 3 days would go by. I was fine as long as I heard from him. I would text every day regardless and told him I loved him. 5 weeks ago, the calls stopped altogether, no texts, no nothing – and I knew something wasn't right. Mum wasn't well enough to be burdened with this and dad was exhausted looking after her and doing 3 jobs to make ends meet. So it was down to me. I came down here to the West End to try to find him. I rented this place – it's not much but I wanted somewhere safe for him if he needed it. I wandered the streets looking for him – can you imagine me wandering around Soho and Old Compton Street all hours of the day and night? I was like a fish out of water"
He glanced at Christian and both momentarily smirked at the image. Christian saw that familiar Masood grin, the one that got him every time. So, so, so like his brother. " Yes, I can see that you might have looked out of place!"
"I showed photos around the place, went into some pretty seedy joints, sat in cafes, watching everyone go by in the hope of getting even a glimpse of him. But nothing, he seemed to have just disappeared. Then, last Friday night, as I had just about decided to give up the search, I was walking back here, along the alleyway behind the theatre when I came across this huddled figure, begging for loose change. It was so dark I could hardly see him but I decided he could have the last bit of change I had. I threw it into his tin and he looked up to thank me. It was him – Syed, my brother, my hero, lying in a gutter begging for pennies. I couldn't see him properly but I knew – I just knew. And he knew it was me too.
To cut a long story short, he tried to get up and run away but he was weak and no match for even geeky old me. Despite his protests and his thumps and slaps, I got him to come back here with me eventually. Oh Christian, if you could have seen him. You think he looks bad now? He was much much worse. I had to virtually carry him here. He was filthy, he has head lice, his clothes were smelly and he had a heavy beard. I got him cleaned up as best I could, and tried to get him to eat -a banana was as much as he could stomach- and put him to bed. I sat with him all night, he cried, he sighed, he said your name so many times while he tossed and turned. I guess I must have slept briefly because I was woken by the sound of the front door being closed. I glanced at the bed and he was gone. I ran out and caught up with him easily on the bottom rung of the stair and dragged him back here. He had tried to creep out without telling me. At least he has now agreed to stay here and has promised not to run off. I have locked the door and have the key so he can't get out. Isn't it awful that I have to do that to my own brother?
He hasn't said much to me except that he lost his job and had nowhere to live. He wouldn't tell me anything about the past 6 months. He asked about mum and dad and Kamil and he asked about you in a round about way by asking about Jane, – I knew where that was leading but I couldn't tell him anything about you. He looked crestfallen. He's mad at me for coming to look for him and for not going to Uni. He says I should have left him here to rot as it's all he's worth. I shouted at him that that wasn't true but he just hit me and told me to go away and leave him alone. I need to get help for him Christian, he's slowly wasting away. He won't eat. All he does is sleep, pray and cry. He won't listen to me and I don't know what else to do. I am scared that if I leave him or if he goes away, he'll get sicker than he already is and Allah alone knows what might happen to him."
Christian rose from the seat and walked over to Tamar. As he engulfed him in a hug, Tamar's tears erupted. Christian held him and let the tears flow – he thought this quiet, studious young man who had lived in his brother's shadow for so long but who had quietly and courageously supported him through all the hard times over the last nine months was being so very brave. For someone like him, Soho and all that entailed must have been so daunting but he put himself out there, ignored how awful it must have made him feel, because of his love for his brother. He was making the life of the person he probably loved most in the world his top priority regardless of the consequences for him. Christian felt ashamed.
That's exactly what he should be doing. He had never stopped loving him. Not since that fight in Masala Queen when he realised that this was the man who would make him whole. Despite everything, despite the hurt and despite trying to move on, Christian was reminded every single day, in so many ways, that life began with Syed and would never be complete without him. How stubborn had they both been.