Chapter 8 - The pretence

Christian's POV:

Masood Household - Monday 7th December- 4pm

My eyes never left the Masood family. They were all wearing black clothing and each of them lost in their own world. The sadness was almost unbearable. Zainab had given birth but the baby died just a few hours later. Sareena was her name, apparently. It was a beautiful name and you could see that she would have grown up to be a right stunner judging by the only photo taken of her.

Everytime I thought of Syed coming over a few nights ago, I mentally kicked myself for not running after him. He's pounded on the door and I'd let him in. Ashely had been around and had come out of the bathroom when Syed turned up. He fled before I even had a chance to move. Ashely had suggested leaving him alone for a while. After all, he knew where I was and I didn't know where he had gone to.

I watched Shabnam. She was a pretty young girl and her head was covered with a scarf. She was reading from the Quran in the corner, crying. Syed comforted her before he moved around to everyone. Zainab had specifically said no alcohol, and for people only to come if they would come modestly dressed. They were fair rules and everyone was happy to oblige. As murmurs of condolences could be heard, I felt out of my depth. For the first time in my life I didn't know what to do.

Syed's POV:

Masood Household - Monday 7th December- 4pm

I wandered around, my mind not quite connected with my body. We'd buried Sareena this morning. I was the only one in my family who didn't cry again. I was worried. I'd just stared at her grave, my mind in turmoil, wondering how on earth I'd ended up here. Most of the Square had turned up and for that I was grateful. Shabnam had got the first flight over. She'd just cried when we picked her up from London Gatwick. As I hugged her, I could remember her saying how she wished we were meeting in different circumstances. I'd agreed whole-heartedly with her as I hugged her tightly.

She was leaving in a week's time. She was in her final year at university and had to get back for her exams. I needed my sister but I knew she had to get back. Tamwar had stayed out of the house. He was rarely in and whenever he was, he refused to leave his bedroom. My mum stayed in her room too while my dad carried on working. Sometimes I'd walk in and find him crying. I kept on working, doing the housework and continued with the planning of the wedding. Whatever happened, it was still going ahead. Whatever way, I was getting married on the 1st January 2010.

Christian's POV:

The Unit at MQ - Thursday 10th December- 7pm

"Ok, right I'm off now"

No reply. I looked at my watch. It was 7pm and Syed should be dressed to go. Instead he was still in his uniform, peeling potatoes.

"Are you actually planning on going home tonight"?

I watched him as he started placing the naked potatoes into the boiling water.

"Syed"! I called him again. His lack of replies was starting to infuriate me.

"I'm making a headstart on tomorrow's sample menu".

"You've been here since 7am and its now 7pm. Maybe you should go home".

"I'm fine".

"You've been working for 12 hours. You need to rest".

"Fine!" I watched as he switched the cooker off and stormed past me. "You can lock up". He slammed his apron into my hands, before slamming the office door shut.

I shook my head. Unbelievable. I was looking out for him. He's taken on a full load of shifts this week. i didn't want to upset him, because I knew that it was his way of dealing with his grief. Is 'upset' the right word? I didn't want him to think I was taking over more than anything. I couldn't understand him. I picked the pan up and drained the water out from the potatoes. I had to leave soon, because I was meeting Ashley for a movie...

Syed's POV:

Masood household, living room- Thursday 10th December- 1am

I looked down at the list for the umpteenth time:

Food - MQ catering
Venue - Walford's Mosque
Imam - confirmed to come
Decorations - Mum's job
Transport - Carriage and horses. Need to confirm
Invitations - Collect from printing shop on 12th
Mehndi and Dhol night - Organise, who is organising them.

Had I missed anything? I flicked the pen between my fingers as I thought of what else I was missing. Mum and I had thrown ourselves into the wedding. It was the only thing getting her through. We'd just been doing anything and everything, just in the hope it would keep us occupied. If the wedding was going to be serious, then I needed to get organised. I looked at blue checkered shirt. Of course! Clothes! I added them to my list. Amira had seen the Lengha she wanted from Dhamini's in Green Street.

My shalwarni was being made from a shop near Ealing. I had to continually go back for alterations and fittings. I also had a few suits due to the different nights that we were having. We'd agreed on a Mehndi night, dhol night, 2 nights for Amira and her friends and then the night before we were both having 'stag and hen' nights with our friends (minus the alcohol and strippers). The short time span and recent events meant that we couldn't organise anything more. To be honest, I didnt think we could afford more lavish nights. Plus with the honeymoon as well .... honeymoon! I had to add that to my list .. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to go still. I crossed it off. With Sareena and everything it didn't seem right. We'd go next year as our first anniversary gift.. possibly

As the night wore on, I made up more and more lists of everything. I'd been up since 7am and it was now precisely 3.34am according to my watch. My body ached and I craved sleep. My constantly occupied mind meant that I had little chance to think of anything else.

The fear of the nightmares kept me awake. It was the third night in a row I'd been seeing my dead sister's body. Last night had been Tamwar's and I was scared of whom I might see tonight. I walked over to the chair, switching the bright light on as I passed past, pulled the hard chair infront of the window and sat there, forcing myself awake everytime I drifted off until I saw the break of dawn across the Square.

EXACTLY 6 WEEKS LATER:

Syed's POV:

The Unit - 2.31pm

I chopped the tomatoes ryhtimatically. Mentally, I was trying to work out how to fit in another shift. I'd worked all week so I was expecting quite a bit. If I kept it up then at this rate, Amira and I would be moving out in no time at all, with enough deposit for a flat. This thought didn't fill me with any kind of emotion or happiness.

"Hey babe".

I half-turned my head as Amira slipped her arms around my waist. I smiled.

"Hey, what you doing here"?

"I just thought I'd surprise my husband. I am allowed to do that aren't I"?

"Yeah course you can. Just a bit unexpected though".

Amira placed her hands on mine, released the knife and turned me to face her. Her face was lit up and she was smiling. Her hair was plaited. Her white skinny jeans, and blue top suited her delicate frame. She kissed my lips. I automatically responded. I allowed my mind to go blank.

"I'm thinking, how about you and me, go back home. Everyone's out, we have the place to ourselves, no interruptions ..." She trailed off suggestively.

"I'm working, Amira"

She pouted. "Syed, you're always working, and have been since the wedding. It's not fair, we never have any alone time anymore"

That was a very valid point. I'd always managed excuses as frequently as possible. 'You chose her Syed, now stay with it'. I heard his voice in my head. The shock of it nearly caused my legs to buckle. I held fast and breathed in deeply.

"You know why I'm working, for us. For our future".

"At this rate, I'll be lucky to see you before 2011".

Angrily, Amira pulled her arms away from my waist and turned on the spot. He was right. I grabbed her arm before they left my reach.

"You're right. We havent spent any time together. Let me finish up and I'll meet you at the house in an hour".

"Are you sure"?

I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak. She grinned.

"Ok, I better .. umm .. slip into something more comfy as they say". She winked mischievously before walking away.

As she left the unit, I thought back to the wedding. It had whizzed past so fast, that I was married before I knew it. Then again, it had come so slowly, I often didn't think it was happening! I'd avoided Christian at all costs. I made my heart hard, icy, cold. It was easier that way to force myself onwards. I slowly started erasing his memories away.

On my Mehndi and Dhol nights, I'd felt like a stranger looking from the outside in. The colour, laughter, joy around me caused my head to spin. I couldn't believe that the wedding was actually going to go ahead.

The evening before the wedding was one of the worst. I had laid in bed all night, awake. I knew that he would be awake too. I had nearly succumbed to the temptation that was pushing me towards him, but I refused to give in. That was what I had chosen. Amira. My parents proud faces in the morning was worth it. It was the first time I'd actually seen them smile since the funeral. I pushed that outside my mind too. Guilt was what had caused me to soldier on through the day. I refused to look at Christian yet I often knew when he was watching me. As I signed the marriage papers, the feeling of me signing my life away was imminent and forever present. But I knew that as of that day, there was no going back to my old life, the old Syed. I was now a respectable married man, and I had responsbilities to live up to.

As I shook hands with my uncle's and listened to the praise from my many aunties, grandma's and elders in the family, I knew that I had made the right decision. This was what was expected of me and I'd done it. Providing for my family and actually procreating with Amira was the other. We'd agreed to wait for at least another 2/3 years before settling down with kids. Amira was adamant that she wanted to enjoy married life before the children came along. I knew that it was truly for selfish reasons, she cared about her figure way too much.

The only time I allowed myself to willingly think about him was whenever I was physical with Amira. I'd imagined his face, his body, his touch ... I stopped my mind from going into detail. Those thoughts were the only thing that had got me through the wedding night, following day, following night and every other session that followed. Amira seemed very keen on the sex much to my dissapointment. She constantly told me that 'it was worth the wait' and how she was 'enjoying making up for lost time'. There was no other way I could do it. I was trying to wean myself off him. It was like a drug, where weaning myself off him is the only thing that could possibly work. My relapses I managed to control. I'd go any pray, or start reciting prayers, phone Amira, speak to my parents. Anything that reminded me why I was doing what I did ... No wonder cold turkey didn't work for me.

Around since the time of the funeral, I hadn't actually felt any emotion. I don't know how that came about but I'd realized it recently. My life after all is currently one big joke.

Without looking too close to the surface one would think that I laughed at jokes, interrupted conversations at the right places, I watched TV, I admired my wife, argued with my mum and felt guilty afterwards.... If you actually looked properly then you would know that I laughed way too loud at the jokes, only interrupted so it would look like I was contributing something when I really didn't care, I looked at the TV listlessly but never actually absorbed it in at all, commented on my wife to make her feel good about herself, only felt guilty during and after arguements when I thought of everything that I had done to shame my family.

Inside, I was just ... empty.

Slumping down against the wall, I prayed in my head to Allah, for strength to keep this pretence up.