Author's notes: Thank you all for your kind reviews... I hadn't noticed that I still had enabled the blockage for anonymous reviews. That blockage is down now, so everybody can drop a few words! (And thanks Mereidia for pointing it out!).
Nadir stretched his back while he and Darius walked down the slope of the cemetery. He was exhausted. The whole week had been a trial, but going through those two final days had been an overwhelming task.
First had come the sleepless night, the fake vigil by a dying man. Then there had come the calling of the doctor, the long talk that led to the payment of a false death certificate. It was followed by the commission of the coffin and by the endless discussion with the funeral director so that he would let Nadir take the measurements of the corpse, and so that the employees of the undertaker's would not take care of the body, but only delivered the coffin and came back the next day with the hearse to take the corpse to the cemetery.
And then he and Darius had helped to carry the coffin, and had braved another discussion because the lid had not been nailed. And then there had come the endless journey to the cemetery through streets that were practically deserted due to the early hour, but that seemed crowded to him. And the tension when he and Darius tried lifting the casket in the cemetery, to avoid the employees noticing the difference in weight, the moment in which earth had seemed to stand still before they grasped the handles of the coffin and took it out of the hearse and effectively confirmed that it was much lighter, that Erik had managed to get out of the carriage unnoticed.
Finally, there had come the memorial service. The prayers for the dead had been interminable, the soft thud of the earth falling on the coffin separated by infinite gaps. He and Darius had stood beside the grave after the gravediggers had left, and then they had gone back to their cab to pick up Erik at the meeting point they had agreed the day before.
The anguish which had weighed over Nadir's heart seized him again when their cab stopped briefly at the entrance of the narrow alley. Darius opened the door of the carriage and was about to climb down when a dark figure appeared behind a stack of barrels and darted into the cab. Nadir couldn't help a satisfied grin as he tapped the roof to signal de driver they should continue.
"Stop that, Nadir. You look like the Cheshire cat," Erik complained.
"The what?"
Erik leant back against the cushions and closed his eyes.
"The Cheshire cat. It's a character from a book."
"And how exactly do I resemble it?"
Erik sighed.
"Your grin."
"My grin?" Nadir was lost again. "A cat that grins?"
Erik waved a hand in dismissal.
"It's a children's book, Nadir. Written by a mad Englishman."
Nadir's eyebrows darted upwards. And after a beat he said:
"Well, perhaps you should read it to Gracie. Maybe she'll be able to see the resemblance."
At that, Erik's eyes burst open, and his back straightened like a rod. A second later he looked away, out of the window, trying to cover his first reaction, but Nadir noticed the way his fists had clenched tight with anticipation, and cringed inwardly. By Allah, it would be a hard task to win Erik's trust again.
"Yes, perhaps I should read it to her," said Erik distractedly.
Nadir pinched his nose with his fingers, and then traced the contour of his thick eyebrows to relieve the tension on his forehead. He was at the brink of a terrible headache. And yet, as he thought about everything that had happened during the past week, he smiled.
They had succeeded in faking a natural death that would prevent anyone from relating the disappearance of the child to the vacating of the apartment on the third floor, a death that would also ensure Nadir's good name and would let him, in due time, rent a new apartment in another part of the city for his invalid brother and his little niece. Nadir drew a smile at that last thought, but Erik had no time to comment on it for the cab stopped in front of the building at the Rue de Rivoli.
Erik climbed the steps two by two. He had to wait on the landing until Nadir got to their floor, produced the key out of his pocket and, with an unnerving slowness, opened the front door. He managed to fake some measure of unconcern, however, and he let Nadir step first into the apartment.
He had just come into the foyer and Darius had barely closed the door behind them when a little figure burst out from the guest room, darted towards him and clung to his legs. Gracie buried her face by Erik's hip, while three astonished men watched her.
Erik was unable to speak, to move, stunned by the wave of emotion that washed over him. At last, he laid his hand over her head and caressed her curls. And then he gently pried Gracie's arm away, so he could crouch in front of her.
"Hello, little one," he whispered.
Gracie cast herself against him, wrapped her good arm around his neck and buried her face by his collarbone.
Erik was shocked still once again. She had just. . . Hugged him. Him, of all people, and not once, but twice. It was shocking. It was inconceivable. It was. . . It was a miracle. Holding back tears, he let his arms surround her. Then he lifted her from the ground.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," he murmured, and made his way into the sitting room. He sat on the couch, the child on his lap.
Nadir cleared his throat, and after a while, his hands found the buttons of his coat. He took it off, and hung it on the clothes rack by the front door. He turned around, and only then Darius seemed to come out of whatever reverie he'd been immersed into. He cleared his throat.
"I. . . I will prepare lunch, my lord. If that is all right with you."
Nadir stared at him. Darius, an extremely laconic man, hardly ever put more than two words together. Two sentences were an odd event.
"Well, certainly, Darius. I will. . . I think I will lie down for a while in my room."
