Stained by Abda Khan

Author:Abda Khan [Khan, Abda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-02T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18: A sigh of relief

‘I see. Yes. Well, when you put it like that. I suppose so. Although I have to say, he shouldn’t have let her come like that so soon after her miscarriage, however much she was insisting on it. If Sohail really couldn’t stop her, then he should have at least driven her up.... Well, no one is more sorry than me. It is such a shame. I never thought it would end like this. But she is my daughter, and you know what our people can be like. I’m never going to stop tongues wagging, am I? No matter what, they will always blame the girl. It’s never the boy’s fault, is it? They will always lay the burden of fault with the girl. But if it is their kismet, if this is their destiny, then there is nothing you or I can do. It seems as though they have both made up their minds. And I guess we have to accept it.’

My mum put the telephone down and came and sat by me on the sofa in the living room where I had taken root of late. I was flicking through the channels, trying to find any programme on daytime TV of the slightest bit of interest. It was a toss-up between a programme about searching for long-lost heirs to small fortunes, or the rival channel with a show about decorating the house of some poor victim who was going to come back home and see that her previously quite stylish bedroom now looked like some old French boudoir.

My mum was clearly saddened by what she had been told on the telephone, so I switched the telly off.

‘I did tell you mum.’ I said to her as she came and sat by me, looking dejected.

‘Yes,’ she cried, ‘you did tell me, and so did your aunty Ruby just now. That it is over. And they are accepting it and moving on, and I should do the same.’

My mum looked so disappointed, like a big heavy weight was back on her shoulders again. It was that big burden she had talked about, I thought. And seeing her like this in turn made me feel despondent, so much so that I couldn’t even think of anything to say, to even try and say, to make my mum feel better. So I didn’t.

Over dinner that evening, Adam and mum filled me in on the events since I had been away, whilst we tucked into my mum’s famously delicious spicy karahi lamb and homemade naans. Mercifully, I was back to eating meat and spices again. I sure had missed my mum’s food. It was homely and comforting, and gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling nothing else could quite replicate.

They told me that sadly, Barbara from down the road had died a few weeks ago. She was eighty-seven years old. Poor Brian was all alone now. My siblings and I had always had a soft spot for the lovely

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