Chapter 23
It’s gone noon on Sunday and I’m still in bed, the weekend’s events playing in slow motion in my head. I’ve been checking my phone every ten minutes or so, to see if there’s been any contact from Adam, but it’s still radio silence. I keep telling myself that there’s no reason why I should have heard from him. It’s not as though that kiss was real, was it? But it felt bloody real. It was the most real thing I’ve experienced in years. It made me see colours I didn’t know existed, gave me strength I didn’t know I possessed. Surely he felt some of that? It couldn’t have all been in my head.
But then, this is Adam. Adam who sleeps with women like he’s training for the Sex Olympics. Maybe it meant absolutely nothing to him and, for all I know, he hasn’t given me, Tariq, or our kiss, a second thought since he dropped me home on Friday night.
Ah yes, Tariq. A smile spreads across my face and I get out of bed and stretch as if I’ve woken from a five-year slumber. I’ve finally done it, I’ve faced him. And I did more than face him, I emptied an unknown, orange-coloured drink over his head and Adam punched him. The invisible chokehold he had over me all these years has finally been broken.
And then there’s Hamza and his lovely, welcoming and completely sane and functional family. I prayed hard on Friday night, for God to steer me towards the right path and almost immediately he took me to Hamza’s house. That must be a sign, right?
I call Layla and give her the lowdown. She doesn’t know the extent of my issues with Tariq but she’s still as furious as Adam was, and screams when I get to the kissing part.
‘I can’t believe Adam kissed you! What was it like? Tell the truth.’
‘Bloody amazing,’ I admit.
‘So what? Do you like him now? Because you know it will never work, right?’
I sigh. ‘Because he’s irreligious?’
‘Partly, but also because he’s a player and he’s not exactly successful, is he? I mean, you manage him! How would that work?’
‘You know I don’t care about stuff like that!’ I reply, annoyed. I get that she’s a fancy lawyer married to another fancy lawyer, but not everyone cares about world domination. So what if we both work for local government? So what if I manage him?
‘You’re saying you don’t care now, but you will, when you’re on maternity leave and you can’t afford all those nice things you like to buy yourself! Don’t act like you’re simple and ghetto just because you tell everyone you grew up in Finsbury Park. You and I both know it’s really Stroud Green. You’re as boujie as they come, with your expensive shoes and bags living in your fat house. It’s all well and good now that you don’t have to contribute financially, but is Adam really going to be able to support you and your lifestyle?’
‘All right, I get it,’ I say from between clenched teeth.
‘Hamza is a much better catch,’ she concludes decidedly. ‘He’s successful and nice and has a decent family. Don’t you want your kids to be brought up with a stable extended family?’
I hang up, feeling worse than I did before I called. I love Layla, I really do, like a sister, but sometimes she’s too much like a real sister, with no filters and boundaries. She has a point, though. Not about Adam being less successful than Hamza, but about the type of upbringing I want my future children to have.
There’s a knock on my door and Yasmin peeks her head around. I nod for her to enter, and not only does she come into my room, she climbs into my bed next to me and pulls the covers around her. She looks uncomfortable and I wait for her to tell me what’s going on.
‘What’s up?’ I ask when she still doesn’t say anything. ‘You OK?’
‘Yeah. Don’t flip out though, OK?’
‘Why would I flip out? What’s going on?’
‘Well .?.?.’ She stalls, biting on a fingernail. I swat her hand away from her mouth.
‘Don’t do that. It’s a terrible habit.’
‘I saw Samia and Suto Mama in Green Street,’ she blurts out.
‘So?’
‘They were looking at wedding gold. They didn’t see me.’
‘Oh.’
I ponder what she says and laugh a fake, high-pitched laugh. ‘Not all gold is wedding gold, you know,’ I say, my voice tight.
‘I guess,’ Yasmin says dubiously. ‘Even big, fancy sets with tiklis and everything?’
Samia has been acting shady lately, but would she really be buying wedding gold without mentioning anything to me? I pick up my phone and decide to call her and sort this out once and for all. All this speculation is ruining our relationship and it could be nothing. The phone rings and rings until it goes through to voicemail.
Yasmin gets up and pads towards the door. ‘Let me know what she says when she calls back.’