Chapter 11
When Dr Mayfield arrives to check on him early the next morning, Syed is lying staring at the ceiling. Christian has fallen asleep with his head resting on his hands on the side of the bed.
"You haven't slept," he greets, noting the dark circles under his patient's eyes. "When did you last sleep?"
"I'm fine," Syed says quietly.
"I'll get the nurse to give you something to help you relax," he decides. "No one is going to hurt you," he tries to assure, when he sees the fear in Syed's eyes. "It's over, all of it."
Syed nods politely.
Dr Mayfield summons a nurse.
Syed watches as she approaches with the needle. He does nothing to stop her. His tears overflow as he accepts that he has no control over anything anymore.
"You're going to be okay," the nurse gently assures, sharing a sympathetic look with the Doctor.
Syed is asleep by the time Masood arrives.
Over the next few days, everyone takes turns sitting with him, so that Syed is never left alone. He doesn't speak, unless asked a direct question, and then only with a "yes", "no" or "fine". His physical health has improved to a point where he can come off the drip and eat more or less normally. A mental health worker has been to see him a couple of times, with little success due to his being so guarded in his responses. She has agreed with the Doctor and his family that it is too early to try to draw him out.
After four days, he is discharged and ready to go home. As he has done the whole time, he obediently does as he is told, despite his fear of leaving the safety of his hospital room.
Christian wants to bring him back to the flat, but Zainab persuades him that Syed would be better off surrounded by his family. Christian wants to insist that he's just as much Syed's family as they are, but is no longer sure if that is true.
The first morning at home
"Tamwar, Afia, why are you still not downstairs?" Zainab shouts from the bottom of the stairs.
Syed jerks awake, terrified.
#
"Morning all," Tamwar says cheerfully, walking into the kitchen a little less than fifteen minutes later.
"It still is, just about," his mother growls.
"Have you heard your brother moving about?" Masood asks.
"No, not a peep. Should I pop up and check ...?"
"No, I'll go," Zainab cuts across him. "I've made him breakfast." She produces a tray laden down with cereal, juice, a mug of tea, toast, butter, jam, honey, a bowl overflowing with different types of fruit ...
"You made Halwa poori," Tamwar notices, surprised. "I can't remember the last time we had it."
"You're not having it now, I made it for Syed. Do you think this will be enough? He probably hasn't eaten properly in days," Zainab frets.
"Even if it isn't, you won't be able to fit anything else on that tray," Masood points out. He and Tamwar share a smile as they watch her heading for the stairs.
"Afia, you're late," she snaps, as she impatiently waits for her to walk down the last few steps and get out of the way.
"I didn't sleep very well," Afia quietly responds.
Zainab opens her mouth to offer some biting criticism, but changes her mind when she sees the misery in her daughter-in-law's eyes. "Get some breakfast, you'll feel better once you've eaten," she gruffly advises.
"I will," Afia says with a hesitant smile. She gets none in return.
"Syed, sweetheart, are you awake?" Zainab gently calls, tapping a couple of times on his bedroom door. "Syed," she repeats, slowly turning the door handle and stepping inside.
Her son is sitting crouched in the corner of his bed, where the two walls meet, his knees up against his chest and his hands gripping tightly around them. It takes her a moment to realise that he is praying, begging God to forgive him for his sins, repeating the words over and over. "Syed ...," she begins anxiously. "Papoo, are you okay?" she whispers, moving closer to him.
Finally becoming aware of her presence, Syed looks up, his eyes wary, expectant.
"I brought you some breakfast." She presents the tray.
Syed looks at it with more than a hint of suspicion and dread.
"There's too much there for one person," Masood judges, appearing by her side. "Can I have some?" He sits a little further along the bed from Syed, pulling himself along until his back is against the wall. Reaching over, he takes a piece of fruit off the tray and begins to eat.
"Are we having a party?" Tamwar arrives and finds a comfy spot by the window. He breaks off a piece of the Poori, dips it into the sweet semolina halwa and reaches for the glass of juice. "You don't mind if I have a sip?" he asks, giving his brother a warm smile.
Taking their lead, Zainab takes a piece of fruit and sits down on the side of the bed.
"Did you sleep well?" she asks.
"Yes," Syed responds. He releases his tight grip, and reaches for the juice.
They tell him about their plans for the day. Masood assures that he will be back after he finishes his postal delivery at around 11.00, Tamwar decides that he will be home for a late lunch at 2.00 (after he has served lunch to everyone else at the restaurant), and Zainab will close her stall at 4.00 and be home shortly after.
As he listens, Syed picks up a piece of toast and puts some butter on it.
He starts to feel anxious when they get up to leave, but before he can think too much about it, his mother asks if he will put on a wash whilst she is away, his father remembers he needs a couple of shirts ironed and his brother tells him what he would like him to cook for his lunch.
#
After everyone has departed, Syed slowly edges his way down the stairs, listening for every sound in case it is the wrong one. By the time he reaches the kitchen, a sheen of perspiration is covering his forehead. He looks around the familiar room, reminding himself that this is home. He wants to run back upstairs but stops himself. Instead, he checks the sitting room and the cupboard under the stairs to make sure he is definitely alone, before locking the back and front doors and all the windows; and, finally, he takes out the washing basket.
Masood comes back at 11.00, as promised. They sit down for a cup of tea, and a chat consisting of Masood talking and Syed nodding now and then.
Lunchtime with Tam is a similar affair.
In fact, all is going unusually well until there is a knock at the front door mid-afternoon. Syed stops moving, keeping as still as he can, hoping the person will give up and go away.
"Sy, it's me," his husband calls through the letterbox, "Christian," he adds as an insecure afterthought. "Please open the door."
Syed looks frantically around him for a means of escape. The back door seems the obvious choice, but he doesn't want to go outside. "There could be others," he thinks anxiously,
"Sy, please, I need to see you, to talk to you," Christian pleads.
Syed holds his breath and waits.
#
"Syed, I'm home," Zainab calls, walking in the door a little over an hour later. She gets no response. The smell of burning has her rushing into the kitchen. With a sigh, she unplugs the iron, and lifts Masood's shirt to examine the iron-shaped hole.
She finds her son back in his room, back in the corner. "What happened?" She gently probes, sitting down next to him.
When Masood and Tamwar return, they are both in the corner; Syed has his arms around his mother's waist and his head resting on her shoulder.
"Is everything okay?" Tamwar asks.
"Someone, a man, came to the house; knocked repeatedly; called out to him, and he is convinced it was those people."
"About an hour ago?"
"Maybe."
"It was Christian. He came to the restaurant to ask how Syed was. I suggested he pop round to see for himself."
"Are we eating dinner in here?" Masood asks from the doorway.
"Syed, did you not recognise Christian's voice?" Tamwar asks.
"Papoo," Zainab gently prompts. "Why would you be afraid of Christian?"
"I don't know," he admits, confused. He lifts a hand to rub his forehead in an anxious gesture.
"Christian loves you," Masood reminds him.
"He doesn't want," Syed says huskily.
"Of course he does. He spent days and nights searching for you, we all did. We were so worried."
"Nazir told me that Christian doesn't want me anymore," Syed says miserably.
"Everything He said was a lie," Zainab cries in a burst of anger.
"Christian sat by your bedside for hours; why would he do that if he didn't want you?" Tamwar reminds him.
"I can't see him, I can't be alone with him," the anxious words burst from Syed. He presses his face into the crook of his mother's neck and tightens his grip.
His family share uneasy looks.
"Did you do the laundry?" Zainab remembers to ask.
"Tamwar, what a pleasant surprise," Christian greets, gesturing for him to proceed into the sitting room. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," he assures.
"Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, juice?"
"Well, let's see. My wife tried to kill my mother; my brother suffered through something so horrible, it left him a nervous wreck; so, do you have any whiskey?" He says it with a wry smile, but Christian can hear the misery in his voice.
"How about hot chocolate with extra cream?"
"That'll do."
"Despite recent evidence to the contrary, we both know that Afia is not a bad person," Christian assures, as he adds generous spoonfuls of chocolate and sugar to the largest mug he can find in the cupboard (a best boyfriend mug Syed once bought him in Duty Free when they were on their way back from a romantic weekend in Paris). He adds some hot milk and stirs; before topping it off with enough cream to make it necessary for Tamwar to quickly skim some off with a spoon to stop it overflowing.
"Thanks," he laughs.
Christian sits next to him. "If you think about it, haven't we all thought about strangling your mother at one time or another," he gently teases.
Tamwar smiles.
"Have you spoken to her about everything, just the two of you?"
"I'm afraid to," he admits.
"Can you forgive her?"
"I can understand why she did it. I don't know what I would do if I were in her position, knowing what she knew. Watching mum getting on with her life ..."
"You haven't answered my question," Christian gently probes.
"I love her," Tamwar admits, "but the suffering she caused Syed; and mum, what might have happened. She put our whole family at risk. I don't know if I will ever be able to trust her again." He bows his head dejectedly.
"How is Syed?"
"He seems to be improving a little more with each passing day; and then, a loud noise or a sudden movement, and he's running scared."
"I'd love to see him," Christian says huskily.
"He's afraid of you," Tamwar says quietly.
"What?"
"That's why he wouldn't open the door to you."
"But he was okay at the hospital, he wouldn't let go of my hand."
"He seems confused. One minute he's upset at the thought of you not wanting him, the next he's afraid of being alone with you."
"He said that?" Christian cries dismayed.
"Yes. I'm sorry, but I thought you deserved to know."
"Of course," he offers vaguely, his thoughts in a whirl. "What exactly did that fucker do to him?" he cries in frustration.
"We'll have to be patient, as the doctor said, we can't give up on him," Tamwar insists, giving him an anxious look.
"I couldn't give up on him even if I wanted to," Christian assures with a smile. "We're a forever kind of couple."
"I'm glad to hear it," Tamwar says with a relieved smile.
Syed has been at home for over a week, and it is starting to feel a little like home. He struggles to sleep at night; the slightest noise has him awake, listening for approaching footsteps.
The first few times he cried out in his sleep, everyone came running. Now, they take turns (apart from Afia, who is not allowed near him).
As the days pass, his nightmares become fewer; but most mornings, his mother will find him in his safe corner. A hospital Psychologist has come to see him a couple of times, with the same outcome: he will talk about anything apart from what happened when he was with Nazim.
On various pretexts, he has had to, very reluctantly, make trips outside the house; to the restaurant to drop off Tamwar's wallet, which he forgot to bring with him (twice); to the stall to bring her coat to Zainab; and there was, of course, the day Masood somehow managed to forget his mailbag. Each trip is an ordeal, and he is glad to get back home again.
"Look who I found wandering the streets," Tamwar announces one evening as he walks in the door.
"Christian hi, it's good to see you, come and sit, you're just in time, we were just about to eat," Zainab greets in the breeziest and cheeriest of tones.
Christian and Tamwar join her, Masood and Syed at the table, which, as luck would have it, already has a couple of extra place settings.
Syed sits very still, his eyes on his plate. "If he speaks to me, if he tries to touch me ...," he thinks fretfully.
However, Christian doesn't look anywhere near him. He and Zainab soon get into a heated debate on Coronation Street versus Emmerdale, which draws everyone in. Syed resumes eating after a little while. He is soon distracted by the conversation, and can't help a smile when Christian decides the argument by pointing out that he would rather hook up with Aaron or Robert in Emmerdale than Sean or Father Billy in Corrie.
After dinner, they have coffee and settle back for a little more of a catch-up. It is all very lighthearted.
Eventually, Syed starts to feel tired and quietly excuses himself.
"Sy," Christian calls after him as he begins to climb the stairs.
He stops and quickly turns to face him.
"I just wanted to say goodnight," he hastily explains when he sees the apprehension in Syed's eyes. Instinctively, he reaches out a hand to him.
"Please, don't, don't come any closer," he cries, backing away. He turns and rushes up the stairs to the safety of his room.
"Christian, leave it for now, it's been a good night, we can talk some more tomorrow," Masood calls after him, as he climbs the stairs.
By the time the others arrive, Christian is standing in the middle of his bedroom staring in shock at Syed, who has assumed his now-customary safety position.
"What is he saying?" he asks shakily.
"He's praying, asking God to forgive his sins," Zainab explains. "It's what he does when he's scared."
"I would never hurt him, he must know that," Christian whispers.
"I don't think it's you, rather something you represent," Tamwar guesses.
"Sy, can you hear me?" he pleads, moving closer, sitting down on the bed near him.
Syed pulls his knees even closer to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible.
"I love you," Christian cries brokenly. He puts a hand under Syed's chin and forces him to look up. What is it?" he softly coaxes, "What's wrong?"
Syed looks back helplessly, unable to speak.
Can I come to see you tomorrow?"
He nods.
"Are you nodding because you want me to come tomorrow, or to get rid of me now?"
"Yes," Syed meekly agrees, hoping it will make him go away.
"I can't say I'm overwhelmed by your enthusiasm, but I'll take anything, right now," Christian admits with a sad smile.