Chapter 9

The following day

Syed rushes back from the Court House with the signed forms; scans and then emails them to Danny. It's almost 11.40am, and he still has to reply to one last email before he can log off.

#

"Hi, sorry I'm late," he gasps, bursting in the door of the Argee Bhajee at 12.10.

"It's fine, we haven't got too much setting up to do," Tamwar assures. "Mum's been in for a couple of hours, you just missed her; we were low on supplies after last night."

"It's great to see the place so busy," Syed smiles, as he puts on his waist coat.

"You can take a lot of the credit for it. Remember your advertising push, back when you were running the place (into the ground); well, after we re-opened, I found your paperwork, and contacted the same people; pretty much copied everything you'd done, and this is the result."

"This is all your doing," Syed insists.

"It's okay to take a compliment now and then, you know; you can allow yourself to feel happy without guilt the odd time," Tamwar gently nudges. "Of course, you did manage to hurt everyone over the past few months, even Christian in the end, but …"

"Is this going somewhere?" Syed tensely interrupts.

"How are things with you and … um, Danny?" Tamwar asks; he still can't quite believe that it's now him of all people.

"There is no me and Danny," Syed instinctively denies. "What do you need me to do?" he adds a little sharply.

"I suppose he's handsome, dynamic; if you like that sort of thing," Tamwar reflects; "a bit too full of himself for my taste, not to mention dishonest and violent on occasion …"

"Is there a point somewhere in this ramble?" Syed irritably cuts across him.

"… but still, I suppose you can't help who you fall for. Personally, I'd prefer Christian, or better still Amira …"

"Tam," Syed shouts.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he blurts out his anxious question.

"Yes, I am sure," Syed patiently assures.

"Are you completely sure; because, no offence, but, well … it doesn't always seem like you do, um … you know, know exactly what …," his voice trails off at Syed's expression.

#

They finish setting up just before people begin arriving for lunch, and are kept steadily busy throughout the afternoon.

#

"Garçon, table for three," Roxy calls out to the whole restaurant to announce their arrival, as she and Christian walk slightly unsteadily in the door with a guy Syed hasn't seen before.

Looking quickly around him, Syed realises with a sinking feeling that he's the only garçon in the room. "Hi Roxy, Christian," he tentatively greets.

"Be careful of this one; he'll steal your wallet when your back is turned," she tells their companion, who gives Syed a surprised look.

Syed gives him a bright smile. "We have a free table over here," he offers, gesturing to the only one still available.

"We'll have a quick bite to eat here, and then head back to mine," Christian tells the guy, his tone intimate, his eyes eating him up; his message clear.

"I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order," Syed says awkwardly.

Christian ignores him.

#

"Christian and Roxy Mitchell have just come in; can you take their order?" Syed asks, as soon as the kitchen door closes behind him.

"Sorry, I've already got more than I can handle," Ali regretfully declines.

"Where's Tam?"

"We're almost out of milk; he's dashed off to the Minute Mart to buy some."

Left with no other choice, Syed takes a deep breath and walks back out.

#

"Darren, can you imagine getting married in a dump like this?" Christian asks his new friend, as he approaches their table.

"Well, I've got quite a lot on over the next few weeks …," he tries to joke.

"I'll give you a few more minutes," Syed quickly excuses himself.

"I mean, the ambiance is all wrong for a start," Christian continues; his voice, getting progressively louder, follows him as he walks away. "I did it, a few months ago; made vows I sincerely meant to keep; put my heart and soul into it; made a total fool of myself, it turns out," he laughs bitterly.

Syed reluctantly stops and turns back towards them. "Can we talk about this privately?" he pleads.

"Over there," Christian gestures. His arm swings rather wildly as he points to the spot, sending napkins and cutlery flying off the table.

Syed automatically looks to the spot, as if he didn't already know.

"That's where we stood; that's where he lied to me; said everything I wanted so badly to hear."

"It's his loss, babe," Roxy tries to soothe. "You always were too good for him," she adds, throwing a hate-filled look in Syed's direction.

"He told me I was his rock, his island," Christian continues to reminisce; his eyes filling with tears, as his anger turns to despair.

"I'm so sorry," Syed whispers. "If I could change …"

"'I'm sorry' … 'If I could change' …" Roxy mimics. "Bullshit, Syed. Your relationship never stood a chance, because you had no intention of ever really changing; because you've always thought your life was so much more important than his: your religion, your family, your hair, your money-making schemes that make no money. Basically, you did as little as you could to keep him; you humoured him as long as he didn't ask for anything too important; anything that would tie you to him; anything irreversible that you couldn't one day walk away from ..."

"Roxy …," Syed angrily tries to interrupt.

"You're better off without him, Christian; all he ever did was make you miserable," she offers her opinion, whilst ignoring Syed's scowl. "Now you can find a guy who hasn't got so much baggage; someone uncomplicated, like what's his name. What's your name again?" she asks, turning abruptly to Darren.

"It's …"

"Imagine never again having to listen to Zainab wittering on about the great Masood family; and, like, the price of peas and shit," she cries enthusiastically, turning her attention back to Christian.

But, for once, Christian can't hear her. "I trusted you; I would have done anything for you," he implores, his eyes trapping Syed's, their anguished gaze holding him prisoner.

All Syed can do is helplessly shake his head. "I wish …," he tries to find the words.

"You don't need him," Roxy jarringly interrupts once more. She reaches forward to take Christian's hand. "You've got me; and thingy, what's his name," she gestures once more to Christian's companion, the back of her hand clumsily catching him on the side of the face as she does so. "What did you say your name was?" she loudly demands; the words running together, the question almost unintelligible.

"Dar …," he valiantly tries once more.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter who he is; there are hundreds like him out there with their boring stories about being, like ... an Estate Agent or whatever, and having a holiday villa in Fuengirola," she sneers.

"That was Andy, and he left about an hour ago," Darren tentatively reminds her. "I work in Tesco's, and my name is …"

"We'll have a lot more fun without boring old Syed," Roxy confidently decides. To seal the deal, she suddenly lunges forward to give Christian a hug; and as she does so, her chair falls backwards onto the floor.

"Don't Rox," he pleads, pushing her away.

"He never deserved you, babe," she stubbornly insists.

"He never deserved him," she tells the whole restaurant, turning to look around her at everyone pretending not to be paying them any attention.

"I understand now that I only need you; I can live without the rest as long as I have you," Christian heartbreakingly pleads. He tentatively lifts his hand towards Syed. "You loved me once," he whispers.

"I'm sorry, I really am so sorry," Syed cries, abruptly backing away. "You'll never know how sorry I am," he sobs, before turning and almost barging into Tamwar.

"I'll serve them," he says quietly. "Your shift is almost over, go home." He hands him his jacket.

Syed doesn't argue; he walks quickly out the door without looking back.

"Yea, run away like the coward you always were," Roxy calls after him.

#

Syed rushes along the pavement in any direction, his eyes blinded by tears.

"Hey, slow down; watch where you're …," Masood shouts, and then stops when he realises it's his son who has crashed into him, knocking the letters out of his hand.

"I'm sorry," Syed mumbles, quickly bending down to pick them up.

"It's fine, really," Masood gently assures. "Are you okay?"

"Yea," Syed automatically responds.

"Of course you are; I don't even know why I asked," he responds with a smile, as he looks at his tear-stained face. "Time for a coffee?"

Syed nods.

They sit in the Café for a little while without saying anything, allowing Syed time to compose himself. "Can you tell me what happened?" he eventually asks.

"It was nothing, really; Christian and Roxy were in the restaurant, he was with another guy."

"But you had to expect that if you broke up with him …"

"I didn't feel anything, seeing him with that guy; it should have bothered me, but it didn't. After everything … I loved him, I really did, but now it's all gone."

"Right," Masood says unsurely. "You …" he trails off, not having a clue what to say. He has always found himself trailing behind in his understanding of his eldest son's state of mind at any given time, and it's no different this time.

"He was so upset, and there was nothing I could do to help him; nothing I could say that would ease his pain," Syed cries agitatedly.

"He'll be okay, eventually; it'll get easier," Masood tries to reassure.

"You said you'd always been proud of me, before I left for the US with Christian, and it meant so much to me hearing you say it; but just lately, I've been thinking that, at the rate I'm going, I'll probably never manage to do anything that will make you proud of me," he says dejectedly.

"I love you," Masood says firmly. "And no matter what happens, no matter what you do, I will always love you; that's a promise."

"Dad," he whispers shakily.

Masood reaches out to give his hand a gentle squeeze. "Maybe you need to give yourself a break, and stop blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong," he urges.

"That's very generous of you to suggest, all things considered," Syed responds with an attempt at a smile.

"How are things with Danny?"

"Danny, "Syed remembers, glancing at his watch. "I need to get home, to have dinner ready for him when he gets in; it's part of my chores."

"He has you doing chores?"

"It's complicated."

"Of course it is," Masood says with a smile. "Are you happy with him?"

"Yea, I think so."

"Well, good," Masood says, and he hopes it is.

As he watches his son walk away, he wonders, as he has done many times, where he will end up.

###

That evening

"I'm going away on business next week," Danny reveals as they sit eating dinner.

"For how long?" Syed asks apprehensively.

"Including travel, four days. I'll be checking my emails regularly; and you'll probably have a few jobs to do, but not as many as usual."

"Where are you going?"

"New York, to meet with some clients and attend a conference."

"Sounds interesting."

"Not really; it will mostly consist of airports, hotel rooms, taxis, business lunches/dinners; I won't have much free time. Have you ever been to New York?"

"No," Syed responds.

"Would you like to come?"

"I can't afford it."

"Not a problem; the hotel's covered, and we can add the flights to your tab."

"But, you won't have time …"

"I could stretch to an extra couple of days, fit in some sightseeing."

"I'd be in the way."

"No, you wouldn't; I could arrange meetings for the mornings, and keep the afternoons and evenings free."

"Why would you want me to come with you; it's not like we're a normal couple?" Syed asks the slightly loaded question.

"It'll save me having to go out looking for sex," Danny casually responds, with a shrug thrown in for good measure. Syed doesn't see his satisfied smile, as he abruptly gets up and walks into the kitchen.

"What did you expect me to say?" he calls after him.

Syed starts randomly shoving dirty glasses, plates and cutlery into the dishwasher; and tidying stuff away.

Danny thoughtfully watches his jerky movements. "We haven't finished eating," he reminds him.

Syed stops; he drops the cloth he'd been using to aggressively wipe the sink, and marches off without another word.

After his departure, Danny gets up and walks to the kitchen; he removes the chipped and broken glasses and plates from the dishwasher and carefully disposes of them. He then finishes clearing stuff away before also going to bed.

"Hey, seriously, was it something I said?" he asks lightly, as he slides in beside Syed and puts his arm around his waist, attempting to pull him back against him.

"Don't," Syed snaps, pushing him away.

"Don't be like that," he coaxes.

"I said, get off me," Syed shouts.

"You don't get to decide when we have sex," Danny growls. Grabbing his shoulder, he forces him onto his back; and then quickly slips his hand along his cheek to stop him turning his head away.

"Why are you so upset? You have no claim on me; if I want to go out and have sex with other men, I will."

Syed doesn't respond; but the muscles in his face tighten as he struggles to control his reaction.

"Do you want me to fall in love with you; to be like Christian?" Danny asks softly.

Syed shakes his head.

"That's probably for the best, because I don't do love, relationships; never have," he gently reminds him. "But I am very fond of you," he can't help conceding.

"Well, I don't like you," Syed waspishly responds, his eyes flashing in defiance.

"I think maybe you do, just a little, despite your best efforts," he teases; gently stroking his cheek, trying to make amends. But Syed is not happy; his body remains stiff and unyielding.

"You're such an emotional little thing, aren't you?" he says affectionately. He presses his lips against Syed's in a chaste kiss, but Syed doesn't give him any encouragement to take it further.

"I want you to come to New York with me because I'll enjoy it more if you're there," he can't help confessing.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly after a little while.

Syed still doesn't respond, but the tension slowly leaves his body; and after a little while, he allows Danny to take him in his arms and is soon asleep.

Danny lies staring into space for a long time, his thoughts uneasy. "I'm letting him get too close," he whispers into the darkness.