Chapter 18

Later the same evening

"Why did you threaten Christian and Roxy?" Syed angrily demands, before the front door has closed behind him.

"To be honest, I've no idea why I bothered," Danny responds, without lookiing up from the legal document he is working on.

"You and I cannot be together if I cannot respect you. If you're going to go around ..."

"Then, I guess we cannot be together."

"What?" Syed asks sharply.

"You're done here; pack those rags you call clothes and get the fuck out of my apartment."

"What?" he repeats faintly.

"You heard me."

"Has something happened?" Syed asks shakily.

"GET OUT," he roars, his yes still fixed on the screen.

Syed walks slowly through to the bedroom. He stands for a moment looking around him; remembering the first time he saw it, and how cold and uninviting it had seemed. The room is now a little different, a little more homely. "Will he keep the rug, the paintings, the colourful throw?" Syed wonders a little wistfully. "The cushions will definitely go; nothing gives him greater pleasure than to violently sweep them off the bed every night before getting in.

They go everywhere," he whispers softly. A tear slides down his cheek; his chest is tight. He attempts to draw a deep breath through the pain. He moves to take his few possessions from the wardrobe.

Returning to where Danny is still at work, he hesitates. "Danny ..."

"Do I need to search your bags to make sure you haven't stolen anything?" Danny murmurs, his focus wholly on the screen in front of him.

"I understand why you threatened Christian and Roxy," Syed says huskily, "you found out about them coming to the restaurant ... I don't agree with what you did, but I do understand why you did it."

"Since you've been such an obedient little companion, performing all your duties to the highest standard, I think you deserve a bonus," Danny interrupts, his tone hard, demeaning. He throws a cheque in Syed's direction; it lands at his feet.

Blushing at the insult, Syed picks it up and sees that it is for £6,000. "Is this supposed to be ... Is this the money I gave you to invest?"

"You were so trusting, so easily charmed, so easily lured into the web. You fell for the business bling: the expensive suit, the printed card, the double-your-money bullshit; it was pathetic."

"Why give it back now?"

"Like I said, it's a reward for services rendered."

"I know about the loan for the restaurant, my parents told me."

"Seriously, what do I have to say to get you to fuck off?"

"What would you say if I told you I wanted to stay?" Syed asks nervously.

"I'd say you were a fool with embarrassingly little in the way of pride or backbone," Danny dismisses, "but I would understand. Moving from a bedsit with a two-ring cooker in Birmingham to a penthouse in London must have been like winning the lottery; of course you don't want to give it up, but you need to accept that your free ride is now over."

"Why are your being like this? Earlier, everything was okay; what's changed?"

Danny doesn't respond.

"Why are you pushing me away? Why can't you be honest? Tell me how you feel. It doesn't mean you're weak ..."

"I feel nothing."

"You're lying."

"It was all a scam."

"So why return the money."

"Second time around, you weren't the scam."

"I don't understand ..."

"Christian was the target."

"Christian?"

"I took the thing that mattered most to him. I ruined your relationship. I took his perfect future from him."

"Why would you do something like that?" Syed whispers, the colour draining from his face.

"He got in my way, he has a stupid name, I was bored - take your pick."

"I can't believe you would be capable of doing something so cruel," Syed says shakily.

"The toughest part was having to pretend to be this vulnerable, sensitive idiot. The whole 'My father never understood me', how cliché. And that afternoon in the park at Greenwich, the most boring four hours I can ever remember spending ..."

"Stop it," Syed cries. "Stop trying to poison everything ..." He hesitates. The screen on which Danny has been completely focused the whole time has gone into saver view and he hasn't noticed."

"You won't look at me," he says softly. He takes a couple of hesitant steps. "You can't look at me," he realises. "Danny, tell me what's wrong," he gently pleads.

"Enough," Danny cries. The speed at which he gets up sends his chair rolling backwards. He grabs Syed by the arm and starts to drag him towards the door.

"I'm not leaving; I won't let you ruin everything," Syed cries, struggling against him.

Danny abruptly pushes him up against the wall, his fingers digging into the flesh of his arms. Syed can see his pale face for the first time; his eyes, filled with a mixture of anger and pain ...

"There's nothing you could say that would push me away," he gently pleads, lifting a hand to touch his cheek; Danny grabs it in a vicious grip.

"You remember what I did to your husband, right?" he asks, his voice trembling with the force of his feelings.

"Christian?"

"When I beat him up?"

"Syed nods."

"Well, that night in the restaurant when you punched me; if your dad hadn't been there, I'd have done the same to you. And if you don't leave now, I'll put you in hospital; do you understand me?"

Syed nods again, his eyes filling with tears. "Whatever it is, I can explain," he softly implores.

"You have to go now," Danny pleads, his voice cracking as his composure begins to crumble. His hands drop to their sides, and he turns away.

"Danny," Syed whispers.

"Please go," he begs, his voice choked with tears.

Syed turns and blindly stumbles towards the door. He finds himself in the lift, on the street and on his parents doorstep without any idea of making the journey.

###

A few days later

"Syed, are you listening to me?" Tamwar cries in exasperation.

"What?" he absently responds.

"Go home. You've been here from morning 'til night every day since … you need a break."

"I'm fine," Syed insists.

"You've been polishing that glass for about 5 minutes; you're exhausted."

"I'll stock up on drinks."

"No, you'll go home," Tamwar orders, taking the glass from him and handing him his jacket.

###

"Syed, I'm glad you're back; can you come and take a look at this?" Zainab returns his greeting.

He wearily follows the sound of her voice, and finds her sitting on the floor in her's and Masood's bedroom surrounded by what appears to be most of the contents of the wardrobe.

"It looks really old, classical, maybe?" she wonders, as she hands him the ring to examine. "I found it at the bottom of the wardrobe when I was searching for a linen table cloth uncle Yasir gave us when we got married. He and his wife are coming here tomorrow afternoon; it's the first time we've had them to visit, so I thought it would be a nice touch to put their gift on the dining room table. Do you think they'll recognise it; remember giving it to us?"

"Probably not," Syed responds, with an indulgent smile.

"Do you think it might be worth anything?"

"It's not really that old; you've only been married 30 years; I think it would have to be …"

"The ring," Zainab barks impatiently. "Do you think the ring would be worth anything?"

"I'd be surprised if anyone who ever lived around here would have anything very valuable; we could bring it to a Jewellers; get it valued," he suggests doubtfully.

"Zee, did you know Christian was planning to return to the US?" Masood calls up the stairs as he returns after finishing his postal delivery round. "Should we tell Syed?"

"Mas, I'm up here; Syed is with me," Zainab calls back, whilst giving her son a searching look. Following the sound of her voice, Masood climbs the stairs and joins them.

"Syed?" he greets awkwardly. "I thought you were still at the restaurant; you're always there these days.

Did you know Christian was planning to return to the US?" he asks the question casually, as if passing on the information for the first time.

"No, dad, I didn't," Syed responds equally casually. "I've got to go out for a bit," he adds, turning to leave the room.

"But you've just come in. Are you going to go to see him?" Zainab calls after him.

"Do you think it's wise?" Masood adds. "I know you've been miserable since you moved back home, but making a rash decision …," he trails off as his son disappears down the stairs.

"If he manages to persuade Christian to let him go to America with him again …," Zainab begins worriedly.

"I don't think Christian will take him back this time," Masood gives his opinion.

###

"Syed, what a surprise," Christian greets, his tone sarcastic.

"I hope you don't mind me coming by like this," Syed responds awkwardly.

"No, not at all, I've been expecting you." Christian steps aside to allow him to enter the flat.

"Really?"

"Well, he dumped you, didn't he? And you do hate to be alone."

"That's not why I'm here," Syed quietly denies.

"Then, what ...?"

"I've come to do what I should have done seven months ago; I'm here to say goodbye," he explains, his tone a little firmer than he would have liked.

"Right," Christian says faintly. "This is it," the thought floats in front of him. His throat begins to close up ... breathlessness ... light headed ... a feeling that he might pass out ...

"I want you to know that I'll always be grateful to you for saving me from the miserable existence my life would have been if I'd never met you," Syed rushes to sincerely assure.

"What am I going to do?" Christian wonders despairingly. "What are you going to do?" he hears himself ask.

"Nothing very extraordinary. I'll continue working at the restaurant. Eventually, maybe look for something that pays a bit more. I've recently been reminded that I have responsibilities: a daughter to support, debts to pay, so all grand ideas are off the table."

"Back to life, back to reality."

"Something like that," Syed agrees with a smile.

"I suppose I've done my share of dreaming as well," Christian admits. "I used to believe that the only person I could truly rely on was myself; turns out I was right; turns out love really is not worth fighting for, 'happy ever after' is a myth ..."

"Some day, you will find someone who won't let you down," Syed confidently insists.

Christian shakes his head dejectedly.

"If I was able to see what a wonderful person you are, it's only a matter of time before someone else sees it." Syed instinctively reaches out to touch Christian's cheek; wiping away a tear, as if it were still his right to do so. "We came so close," he says softly.

"We did," Christian weakly agrees.

"The next guy ..."

"It's getting late," he whispers.

"Don't think like that, sweetheart," Syed cries, his tears quickly falling, his heart breaking. He puts his arms around him and Christian returns his embrace.

"Maybe I'm a little too forceful sometimes," he mumbles against Syed's shoulder.

"It was the first proper relationship for both of us; we both made mistakes," Syed tries to console. After a little while, he gently lets go and steps back.

"If you give me another chance, I'll listen … anything you want ..." Christian can't help pleading.

But Syed is shaking his head, "If we'd had this conversation a year ago, maybe we could have worked things out."

"Before you met him," Christian sadly accepts.

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too," he whispers.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be," Syed cries impulsively.

"I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you to be ready," Christian huskily admits.

"We're a fine pair," he says sadly.

"Yea," Christian manages.

"Will you keep in touch?"

"Probably not." The words seem so final. Christian's heart feels like its going to burst from his chest in protest. "I'll be busy with my new life," he tries a bit of the old bravado. "When you're fitness trainer to the stars, everybody wants a piece of you. I'll be meeting lots of fit blokes, going to all the best parties. if you want to know what I'm up to, you'll have to read the gossip columns."

For a second, Syed is almost convinced.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself," he begs.

"You know me ..."

"Please Christian."

Christian nods his head in compliance, his lips pursed in a desperate attempt to hold his emotions in check.

"I'll always care about you," Syed says huskily.

"Me too," he whispers. He helplessly watches Syed slowly back away. Finally, he turns, opens the door and walks out.