Chapter 8

The next morning

"What did you and Syed argue about, if you don't mind me asking?" Tamwar tentatively probes, as they drive up a road no more than two streets away.

"It was nothing important," Christian attempts to dismiss.

"It must have been pretty serious, if he was prepared to do something so drastic."

"He saw me in the Vic with a guy."

"You're having an affair?"

"No," Christian corrects with a sad smile. "I was with Rox; we'd had a bit too much to drink ..."

"You and Roxy tend to do that a lot," Tamwar remarks.

"We'd had too much to drink," he continues in the same flat tone, without reacting or correcting him, "and we started flirting with a couple of guys who were also well on it."

"Did you ... hook up with ... your guy?"

"No, I told him I was in a relationship. I was facing away from the front door; I didn't see Syed on his way in, but he saw the guy with his arm around me, probably whispering something ..."

"He surely wouldn't have run off without at least discussing it with you?" Tamwar protests.

"I think it might have been the last straw," Christian admits. "I think Syed has been unhappy for a while."

###

Syed forces his eyes to open, to look around the unfamiliar room. As he tries to sit up, spots appear, and he has to lay back against the pillows. The bedroom door opens and Nazir enters.

"Where am I?" he cries shakily.

"It's okay, you fainted, you've got a virus; you need to take it easy for a few days," Nazim gently reassures, coming to sit on the bed beside him.

"My head feels ... I can't seem to focus on anything."

"You're probably dehydrated. Drink this, it'll help." He hands Syed a glass of apple juice.

Once it is empty, Nazir takes the glass, and gently presses him back until he is lying down once more.

Syed falls sleep.

###

Later that day

"All the Surgery would tell me was that Nazir has not been at work for the past couple of days," Masood announces, on his way in the front door, "They couldn't give me his home address, as they have to protect his privacy. There was an agency girl covering, and no matter what I said she wouldn't budge."

"What about the police?" Zainab asks hopefully.

"They took the details and filed a missing person's report; but as soon as I admitted that he'd gone with Nazir of his own free will, they seemed to lose interest."

"I phoned cousin Malala and aunty Reema back home, but they've heard nothing that could be of use," Zainab says dejectedly. "They told me that Nazir has no wife or kids, but that he does have a couple of friends who lived in the village."

"Did you get a number? Can we call …?" Masood begins, but she is shaking her head.

"They recently travelled to London, and no one's heard a word since the day they left."

"Right," he responds, deflated.

"Reema spoke to Nazir's aunt, his mother's sister, who still lives locally, but she hadn't heard from Nazir since his mother died over four years ago."

"You travelled to Pakist*an with Yusuf around the time Amira returned to tell us about Yasmin," Masood tentatively recalls.

"Yes," Zainab reluctantly admits. "I don't remember very much about the trip. I was unwell for most of it ..."

"You were drugged."

Zainab bites her bottom lip; her eyes look down in the direction of her hands. "I've tried so hard to recall … something, anything; but all I can be sure of is that, one evening during the trip, Yusuf introduced me to two people who he said were his niece and her husband," she reveals after a short silence. "I know we were at a restaurant, but I can't remember what they looked like, their names or anything else about them."

"Zee, it's okay," Masood gently assures, seeing the tears of frustration in her eyes.

"I asked Malala if she could find out more about the niece, but she was convinced that the only sister Yusuf did have had no children."

"We all believed his lies."

"I was such a fool," she moans.

"Have you heard anything from Tam and Christian?" he gently prompts after a little while.

"They've been up and down every street in Walford; handed photos in at every shop, restaurant and pub ..."

"No luck."

"None."

"What about the internet?"

"Tam could find no trace of Nazim on any of the social media sites."

"Where is Afia?"

"She's been at the restaurant all day, and went straight upstairs when she returned. I think she's trying to avoid me."

"You could be right," Masood agrees with the understatement.

"Oh where can he be?" Zainab cries, in a burst of despair.

"I would give all I have of value in the world to have the answer to that question, my love." Masood puts his arms around her, and Zainab buries her face in his shoulder.

###

The following morning

Syed opens his eyes once more and looks around him in confusion. He has no idea what day it is; but there is a fresh, early morning feel to it, and he can make out the sunlight shining through the dirty glass of the very small window on the other side of the room. "What am I doing here?" he wonders a little fearfully. He drags himself into a sitting position.

"Good morning, are you hungry?" Nazir asks from a few feet away. Syed jolts at the sound of his voice, not having been aware of his entering.

"Thank you," he says politely, accepting a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," he answers unconvincingly. "Let me wash them," he offers when Nazir attempts to take the empty dish and glass from him. "I think I'm well enough to get up." He attempts to stand.

"There's no rush, rest today. You'll need to be on top of your game for tomorrow. We'll be leaving here early in the morning. Remember I told you about my business contacts? Well, I've arranged a meeting."

"Really?" Syed shows a flicker of interest.

"I've told them all about you; they're eager to meet."

Syed smiles a tentative smile. "Okay," he agrees. "I'd like to go home afterwards."

"Of course, whatever you need," Nazir assures.

###

In another part of town

"I don't think I've ever seen you so quiet," Tamwar observes.

"I've been thinking," Christian says huskily.

"About your relationship with Syed?"

"The day he moved in with me was the happiest day of my life. I remember, as clearly, as if it were yesterday, how incredible it felt to wake up the next morning and find him lying next to me, and to realise that he wouldn't have to sneak away as soon as he woke up. I lay there watching him sleep for probably half an hour, and then I could wait no longer; I woke him up and we ..."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you did," Tamwar quickly interrupts. "You were happy in the beginning, but it didn't last; the novelty of having him all to yourself soon wore off."

Christian opens his mouth to protest, to accuse him of taking Syed's side and of never thinking he was good enough for his precious brother. But before the rash words can leave his mouth, he forces himself to replay Tamwar's words over in his mind a few times, and it occurs to Christian that he may just have a point. "I don't think I really know Syed as well as I used to," he quietly admits.

"When you talk, what do you generally talk about, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Most of the time, we have what you might call surface conversations: about our plans for the day, what we're having for dinner, who's going to look after Yas. We don't tend to have much of what you might call quality alone time."

"What about other stuff, stuff you might want to get off your chest?"

"We don't really sit down and talk very often, but we do find time to catch up. Usually, as soon as I get home from work, I tell him everything about my day, whilst I'm doing other stuff; all the little dramas." He smiles self-depreciatingly.

"Does he return the favour?"

"Not really. His life tends to be pretty uneventful."

"You really believe there is never anything he would like to talk about, no problem he might need to share?"

"I suppose I haven't really thought about it," Christian admits. "We just seem to have one of those relationships where I'm the chatty one, and he's the listener. Although, just recently, it's felt like he'd stopped ... listening."

"If you were doing all the talking and he had no input, he was bound to tune you out eventually," Tamwar points out.

"Is that what you do to Zainab?"

"No comment," he smiles.

"I'm beginning to realise that he's a very secretive person."

"A gay boy, teenager, man, growing up in a Musl*m family and community; trust me, he's an expert at hiding things."

"I suppose so. He has never talked about what it was like, how he coped. Has he talked to you?"

"I think he would struggle to talk to me about something so personal. There would be many roads we just couldn't go down. I did try to broach the subject, but we struggled to get much further than him admitting that he'd felt lonely for most of his life until he found you."

"When did he say that?" Christian asks huskily.

"I would have been a week or two after he moved into your flat."

"Did he say anything else?"

"He once told me that whenever you and he were alone together, no matter what you were doing, he felt completely happy and content. I'm not sure if that's still the case ..." He lets the sentence trail away, seeing that Christian has tears in his eyes.

They sit quietly for a little while.

"I thought you would be the perfect person for him to open up to," Tamwar finally suggests. "You're so relaxed and unselfconscious about these things. You have no hang ups about talking about, you know, um ... sex." To prove his point, Tamwar blushes.

"I could have gotten him to talk," Christian agrees. "When we were getting to know each other in secret, we talked about all sorts of things. I know that Sy found it so liberating to be able to fully explore his sexuality ..."

Tamwar clears his throat nervously.

"... He was giddy with the knowledge that absolutely nothing was off limits when we were alone." Christian smiles fondly as he remembers. "I'd forgotten how wonderful it used to be back then."

"Why did ... that have to change once you moved in together?"

"It didn't, change, at first; for maybe the first few weeks, we were inseparable ...," he trails off. "I suppose it didn't have to change. It wasn't a deliberate decision ..."

"Life got in the way, maybe?" Tamwar suggests.

"Maybe," he agrees absently.

"I suppose it's not easy ..."

"Syed needs the games, the thrills; he needs it to be about us," Christian reflects. "It must have felt to him like I'd promised him the moon and the stars and all he got was ..."

"Roxy ..."

"He has talked to you," Christian accuses.

"He didn't have to, I could see for myself."

"You knew he wasn't happy?"

"I think it is safe to say that life with you didn't live up to his expectations. He couldn't say too much. He'd made such a huge sacrifice to be with you, it would have been humiliating for him to have to admit he wasn't happy, that he'd made a mistake."

"I stopped working at our relationship. I knew he loved me, I knew I could enjoy his smiles, his beautiful warm body whenever I wanted ..."

"Hmm, yes, yes," Tamwar quickly says something, anything ...

"It's all my fault ..."

"It takes two to tango, or I suppose ..., you know, not to ..."

"Sy would never be able to take charge like that, there's a shyness there," he smiles fondly, "he needed me to lead the way."

"You liked to lead the way outside the bedroom, as well?" Tamwar suggests.

"Maybe," he pauses.

"I used to think that you knew him better than anyone. I still don't understand how you didn't see that he was unhappy. You were living together."

"I guess that after a while I stopped paying attention to his moods; I guess it suited me to believe everything was fine because, for the first time in my life, I had it all," Christian murmurs thoughtfully.

"Dad and I are firmly rooted in reality; we tend to make rational decisions based on logic, common sense and the facts as we know them," Tamwar admits after a little while.

"Really?" Christian asks, without really knowing why.

"To Mum and Syed, on the other hand, logic and common sense are little more than casual acquaintances who pop by now and then."

"So, basically, what you're saying is that I should never stop paying attention," Christian smiles.

"Something like that."

They sit quietly for a little while until Christian's phone starts to ring. He quickly picks it up. "It's Jane," he says flatly, and they both let out a deflated sigh. "Hi, what's up," he asks. After listening for a bit, he tells her they have nothing to report.

"She hasn't heard anything?" Tamwar asks hopefully.

"No," he says wearily. "She's made lunch for us, so if we could swing by the cafe ..."

"That's nice of her," Tamwar says politely.

"Yes it is." Christian flatly agrees.

#

Masood is in the cafe when they arrive, he looks up expectantly as soon as he sees them.

Tamwar shakes his head, "Nothing."

Jane hands them the food and some drinks.

"Sit with me, eat your lunch. We'll head back out as soon as we're finished," Masood suggests.

They eat quietly, each wrapped up in his own thoughts. Each afraid to say what they are all thinking.

"I've seen happier people at a wake," Shirley remarks as she passes their table. They look at each other, each with similar foreboding thoughts.

###

Syed struggles to open his eyes. His head feels, if anything, even more muddled than before. It is now dark and he is not sure how much time has passed since he last had a coherent thought. Attempting to get out of the bed, his legs give way and he ends up on the floor.

"Hey, are you okay?" Nazir asks, appearing at his side. He lifts him up and back onto the bed.

"I want to go home, Christian will wonder where I am," Syed cries in agitation.

"Christian threw you out; he no longer cares where you go."

"What are you talking about? Why would he do that?"

Nazir reaches over to switch off a monitor next to the bed, which Syed had not noticed was there.

"Nazir?" he urges anxiously.

"He knows we had sex," Nazir reminds him, his tone hardening.

"We had sex?" he asks faintly. A snapshot of Nazir holding him down, both of them naked, offers an unwelcome reminder. "We had sex," he confirms, his tone bleak.

"Christian won't come for you, because he knows that it is me you want now," Nazir says huskily. He raises a hand to stroke Syed's cheek. "I'm all you've got now." He leans forward to capture his mouth in a kiss.

"Hmm," Syed moans in protest, struggling to push him away; but his arms feel heavy and uncoordinated and make little impression. "Please, don't," he tearfully pleads, as Nazir's mouth moves to his neck.

Nazir easily pushes him onto his back and climbs on top of him.

Realising that he won't be able to stop him, Syed forces his body to relax, to try to accept what's coming.

Afterwards, Nazir gets up, pulls on his clothes, turns the monitor back on and leaves the room without a word. Syed pulls the quilt over himself and closes his eyes, overcome with despair.

"Drink this," his captor appears at his side after a short while with a glass of orange juice.

Syed slowly, unwillingly, opens his eyes, making sure to keep his gaze lowered to avoid making eye contact. He reaches out a hand and obediently takes the drink.

Nazir watches with no emotion on his face, as Syed passes out once more.

#

The following morning when he arrives with a dish of cereal and a glass of juice, Syed is lying staring at the ceiling. He doesn't move or react.

"Sit up and eat," Nazir orders.

He pushes himself into a sitting position and accepts the food.

Nazir sits on the side of the bed watching him. "Nothing to say for yourself today?" he finally asks.

"No," Syed says quietly, his head bowed.

"Now that I've finally got your complete obedience, it's a shame our time together is almost at an end," he says softly as he watches Syed's eyes slowly close.