She Wore Red Trainers (25 page)

‘
As-salamu ‘alaykum
, Amirah,' I said, breathlessly.

‘
Wa'alaykum as-salam
, Ali. How are you?'

What was it about her that had changed? I expected her to be a bit formal with me, a bit distant now that she was engaged, but it wasn't that. She seemed…
sad
.

I was caught off balance by it. I no longer knew what I had been planning to say, why I had called out to her. So I knelt down and spoke to Abdullah instead. ‘What have you got there, Abdullah?' I signed, smiling at him.

‘Something for you,' he grinned, showing the gap between his front teeth. ‘Open it.'

I unrolled it carefully, wondering what it could be, wanting to keep unrolling it forever if it would keep her standing there.

Eventually, I held it open in front of me, a piece of artwork unlike any I had ever seen. It was basically a thank you letter from Abdullah, but drawn in sign language symbols. Each set of hands was a word and each word was in a square, drawn
or painted in different media: oils, charcoal, pastel, pencil, acrylic.

It was a true work of art, there was no doubt about it.

I glanced up to see Amirah, smiling at last, looking proudly down at Abdullah.

‘Did he do this on his own?' I asked her. ‘It's amazing.'

She shrugged. ‘He's gifted, mashallah,' she said simply. ‘But I have been doing my own kind of art therapy with him, helping him communicate better through art.'

‘That is so cool,' I said, shaking my head. Then I turned to Abdullah and, for a moment, I felt dangerously close to tears. ‘No one has ever given me anything as wonderful as this, bro. Really.
Jazakallah khayran
. I'll treasure this forever.' And I had to blink several times to keep the tears from falling.

Abdullah threw his arms around me and held me tight, sniffing. ‘I'm going to miss you, Brother Ali,' he signed, his lips trembling. ‘I wish you could stay with us forever.'

‘Ah, man, don't do this to me…' I said, rubbing at my eyes.

I heard a sniff and looked up to see that Amirah was crying too. ‘He's grown so attached to you, mashallah,' she gulped. ‘And he doesn't get close to people easily.' She blew her nose and tried to compose herself. Then she looked me in the eye and said, ‘Thank you for taking such good care of him. I didn't know who I was going to be able to trust him with but I knew that, if he was with you, he would be in good hands, mashallah.'

I ducked my head. ‘It's nothing. He's like my little brother now, isn't he.'

Amirah smiled through her tears. ‘Yeah, I suppose he is.' Then she must have become aware of where we were and the
people around us because she started to look at her watch, adjust her bag strap.

‘I've got to go,' she said at last.

No, please don't go. Stay here and talk to me. What can I say to you to stop you walking away?

‘Hey, I hear congratulations are in order…' I said brightly, trying not to betray any of the emotions I was feeling, or what it cost me to congratulate her on her upcoming wedding.

She looked blank for a second, as if she hadn't caught my meaning. Then she said, ‘Oh, you mean Brother Hassan, Zayd's friend?'

I nodded, swallowing the bitterness that was threatening to rise.

She smiled then, a small smile that seemed to contain such sadness that it tore at my heart. As if, if she wasn't careful, she would dissolve into tears, right there. ‘No, no congratulations needed. It didn't go through in the end. Let's just say there were some compatibility issues…' And, with a sad little smile, she signed with those tiny hands, ‘Now I'm as free as a bird…' before walking away through the crowd.

I stared after her as she walked away, my heart in my mouth, total chaos in my head.

What did she say? Free as a bird? Did that mean…?

Look back, Amirah. Look back at me. Just once. Just so I know.

But she didn't. She just kept right on walking, never once turning her head.

I felt a presence at my side. I glanced round and saw that Usamah was standing next to me. He stood there with me for a few moments, not saying anything.

When at last he spoke, he said, ‘You know, bro, if you
don't go after her, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. You know that, right?'

I nodded. ‘But Zayd… my plans… how do I know…?'

‘Like I said, you'll regret it for the rest of your life.'

And I knew that he was right.

There was only one thing to do. ‘Amirah!' I called out to her, waving for her to stop.

She was already by the gate but she heard me and stopped and turned to see me running towards her.

When I reached her, I saw her face was full of questions.

‘Amirah,' I said, trying to get my breath back. ‘I don't know what happened between you and the brother, Hassan, but I want you to know that I'm not sorry.'

‘Pardon?' There was a touch of annoyance in her voice and I had to steady my nerves in order to carry on with my unplanned confession.

‘I'm not sorry because… I couldn't stand the thought of you marrying him. Because I think you're the most amazing girl I've ever met and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that first day…'

‘At the basketball courts..?'

‘
Yes
.' Relief flooded through me. She remembered. ‘You've been on my mind since then. And, at first, I tried to fight it but, as time has gone on, I've come to realise that you are someone special. Too special to pass by. And I know it sounds weird because we've not really spent time together and all that – but there is something about you, Amirah, something that speaks to me on so many levels. And…' Then I faltered. ‘I know I'm going out on a limb here but… do you feel…
anything
for me? I mean, so many times, I thought I saw something, a sparkle in your eye, a look, a cheeky grin, that made me think that, yes,
you felt something for me, too.'

My heart thrummed while I waited for her answer. But she just looked at me with those troubled eyes and I began to feel a bit desperate. Had I totally misread the whole situation?

‘Please, Amirah,' I said at last in a low voice. ‘Don't play games with me. I don't have much time – I fly to Mexico in a few days, inshallah. If you'll have me, I'll come and see Zayd tonight and we can take it from there, as fast or as slow as you want.'

She stared at me then. ‘If
I'll
have you?' She smiled a tiny smile. ‘Why, what did you have in mind, Ali?'

Communication at last!

‘I don't want a lot, Amirah. I just want to be with you,' I said with a shrug. ‘I want to wake up with you to pray Fajr. I want to learn with you, grow with you, see the world with you. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want us to grow old together, inshallah. That's all.'

‘Just to be together for the rest of our lives then, yeah?' She laughed and I swear it felt so good to see that sadness disappear from her eyes.

Yes
, I thought,
that's it. I want to make you smile like that every day of your life, for the rest of your life, inshallah.

She opened her mouth to speak then closed her eyes. After taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Ali, I'm going to be totally honest with you. I've been thinking about you since that time at the basketball courts, too. When I imagine my dream guy, he is you, in every way. Everything you are telling me is what I have always hoped someone would tell me, one day. Allah knows, I've prayed for it.'

I grinned. This was it. This was the beginning of the rest of my life, the moment I embarked on the greatest adventure
ever, with her at my side. I opened my mouth to tell her that she had made me the happiest brother ever, but before I could form the words, she said, ‘But that's all it is, Ali: a dream. And in real life, dreams rarely come true, especially for girls like me. It wouldn't be right for you to come and see Zayd. You think I'm so amazing but, trust me, you don't know me. If you did, you wouldn't be standing here, talking to me.'

I was totally thrown off balance. What was she saying?

‘Go, Ali. Go to work in Mexico. I'm sure it will be amazing out there. You've got so much to offer – I saw that with Abdullah – you deserve someone better than me.'

And she turned to go.

‘Amirah, no! Wait! What are you talking about? Please, just give me a chance to prove myself to you. Give me a chance… please?' I felt tears sting my eyes. Of all the things I had expected, I hadn't expected this.

But she simply smiled that sad, sad smile and said, ‘Forget about me, Ali. I'm broken and I have too much baggage…'

‘Baggage?' I cried. ‘Who doesn't have baggage? I've got more than enough for the two of us. But that's just it: we can heal together. You don't have to do it on your own. Isn't that what Allah says in the Qur'an, that husband and wife should be like garments? And what do garments do? They shield, they protect, they give comfort… I'm not looking for someone perfect – I'm far from that myself. But you're my dream girl, Amirah, and I want you, baggage and all.'

She was in tears by then and, shaking her head, she cried out, ‘Forget this dream girl, Ali, because that's all she is: a dream. And everyone has to wake up one day.'

And she turned and ran away, out of the gate, leaving me standing there, my heart in pieces.

46

I was like a dead woman walking: blind, deaf, feeling nothing. I bumped into people on the High Street and simply walked on, numb.

It was all too surreal. Had all that really happened? Had Ali Jordan – Mr Light Eyes himself – really confessed that he was crazy in love with me? That he wanted to
marry
me?

And had I really told him
no
?

Fresh tears sprang to my eyes and I ignored the looks I was getting, walking on and on, towards the end of the High Street.

You've done it again, Amirah
, I thought to myself.
You've run away. Rather than face the situation and deal with it, you've run away. When are you going to stop doing this?

Once again, I relived the conversation with Ali: confusion at first, then the penny dropping, followed by the elated, wildly beating heart, and then the Darkness again, eating away at my confidence, smothering my happiness, making me feel like I didn't deserve any joy, certainly not the joy that Ali was offering. The Darkness told me I was worth nothing, that I was just a dirty little tramp, just like Abu Malik was always saying.

So, he would fly to Mexico; his family would move away,
and everything would go back to normal on Seville Close. Rania and Yasmin would go off to university, Samia would go to Egypt to study Arabic. Zayd would most probably continue with his job and start looking for a wife. The children would soon be back at school.

That left me, treading water, knowing what I wanted but afraid to dream again. Afraid to make a move.

I went to the park. I wanted to lose myself in the calm of the shaded hill under the trees, to feel the Qur'an heavy in my hands and find myself in Allah's words. I wanted to prostrate on the grass at last.

I found a sheltered spot and put my coat down so that I could pray there. With my forehead to the ground, I began to speak, to really speak to Allah, pouring my heart out, asking for His forgiveness, His mercy, His guidance. I spoke to him about Ali, about Mum, about Abu Malik, about my dreams and fears. My tears soaked the coat beneath my face and I could feel myself shuddering as sobs wracked my body.

All the prophets had been tested. The Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him, had been tested. The early Muslims had been tested. So we would be tested, too. That was one thing Mum had always taught me that I knew to be true.

Once I had finished praying, I was able to get my breath back, to calm down. After pouring my heart out like that, I felt cleansed, and a little stronger. All the things I had been through had worn me down, down to my lowest level. Only my faith could pick me up now.

I opened my bag and took out the Qur'an Uncle Faisal had given me when I had finished memorising the thirtieth part of the Qur'an. I'd kept it all these years. My eyes scanned the Arabic script, picking out familiar words, words that I
understood, words whose meanings had been explained to me. Then, I saw the lines that soothed my heart: ‘Verily, with difficulty, there is ease. Verily, with difficulty, there is ease.'

That was a promise, a promise that things would eventually get better, that every cloud did have a silver lining. That it was worth holding on for another day.

***

Mum cooked roast lamb for dinner that night and, although the smell of garlic and rosemary was amazing, I didn't have any appetite. I wanted to retreat to my room, away from the noise for a while.

But I didn't get to. Mum insisted that we all sit down to eat together.

‘As a family,' she kept saying.

But sitting across from Abu Malik, watching him eat the food Zayd had paid for, food Mum had cooked, made me feel sick. Mum was trying to get everyone to talk and be sociable, but neither Zayd nor I were much help. For once, I couldn't put on an act to make her think everything was OK.

‘You've hardly touched your food, Ams,' she said at one point, looking at me with concern. ‘Come on, eat up.'

‘Yeah, Amirah,' Abu Malik put in his twopence worth. ‘You're too skinny as it is – no man wants a woman who's all skin and bone!' And he slapped my mum on her thigh. She giggled and pushed his hand away.

‘Amirah knows I'm only teasing her, don't you, girl.' And he had the nerve to wink at me, right there, in front of my mother, in front of Zayd. I cut my eye at him and looked
away, but not before I caught Mum looking at him, a frown on her face.

Then she turned to Zayd. ‘What's the latest with Hassan, Zayd? Are we still meeting his family this weekend? You know you have to remind me about these things or I completely forget…'