Iman’s phone rang. It was Ibrahim, insistent that they turn around so that he could speak to her. ‘Give me Salma,’ he said.
‘She’s driving. She can’t speak to you.’
Salma turned to look at Iman. ‘What does he want?’
Iman moved the phone away from her face. ‘He wants you to stop somewhere so he can catch up with us. He says he needs to give me something and it’s urgent.’
‘I’ve already left Dundee,’ Ibrahim was now shouting through the phone. ‘I’m making my way towards you. Stay at Finavon. Just stay there and wait for me.’
Iman brought the phone back to her face. ‘We’ve already left.’
‘Let me speak to Salma.’
‘I told you she’s driving.’
‘Put me on speaker mode.’
His voice was now in the car with them. ‘Salma, turn back,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll meet you at the service coffee shop.’
Salma made a face.
‘Just ignore him,’ Iman whispered.
Salma shook her head. ‘Ibrahim, not Finavon. I’ll turn into Stonehaven and we’ll wait for you at the castle.’
‘Are you sure?’ The relief was obvious in Iman’s voice.
‘Yes.’ Salma was made generous by the sense of holiday. They had time, so why not dawdle a little. ‘It’s beautiful there. We’ll enjoy it especially now that it’s stopped raining.’ Getting away from it all. Away from responsibility, away from authority, bodies set free from routines, perspectives altered, distances distracting. Every holiday was a test. Every holiday was a risk.
Chapter Three
The visitors’ car park was separated from the castle by a narrow winding footpath. The three had to walk in single file. Salma and Iman walked faster than Moni. Moni dragged her heels. She was not interested in seeing any castles. But Salma had refused to let her wait in the car.
The path sloped downward, which made the walk pleasant for Salma and Iman but only made Moni worry about the upward return. She began to perspire. She took off her coat, draped it across her arm and walked on with the belt dragging on the ground. There were now steps and a railing she could hold on to, but still she struggled. The distance between her and the other two grew until it became too large for any meaningful conversation. She would have to shout if she wanted them to hear her. It was as if they were trying to shrug her off. Moni stopped making an effort to catch up and slowed down further. She could make out Iman’s figure ahead and, beneath her on the slope, Salma’s wide bouncy strides. Then the track flattened again, and she lost sight of them.
Moni was now out of breath, sighing noisily and feeling faint. Her thighs rubbed against each other. She prayed for a bench and then, like a miracle, spotted one on the side of the path where the steps twisted into a right angle. She sat down, but sitting made her feel worse. She began to sweat and black blotches floated in front of her face. She needed to take in big gulps of air.
Iman forgot about Moni and felt that Salma was chatting too much. The sea was calling her and she speeded effortlessly towards it. She wanted to laugh out loud as she skipped down the grassy slope. It was as if she were a child again, before her body became a responsibility, before she understood how her beauty could be of value and of interest. She was carefree in those days, snotty and bare-footed, wild in the fields and the alleys of her Euphrates village. She had played and skipped and run, feeling the wind against her face, the animal smell of the grass and her voice humming in her ear. A song that no one else could hear.
Salma, who had been looking back expecting Moni to catch up with them, stopped. She grabbed Iman’s arm. Now that she was standing still, Iman heard her phone ring. Ibrahim’s voice sounded faint but persistent. She hardly paid attention; what she wanted was the sea. There it was, spectacular beneath her, and all she had to do was sing in order to reach it. Yes, she said to him, they had stopped at Dunnottar and she would wait for him down at the beach.
Next to her, Salma raised her eyebrows at the mention of the beach. She wanted to go inside the castle. ‘I’ll go back and see what’s wrong with Moni. Wait for me.’
‘You sort out Moni, I’ll catch up with you later.’ She ducked past her surprised friend and ran down straight for the cove. Seagulls circled above her.
Salma climbed back up the slope. Since when did Iman do her own thing? ‘Yalla, Moni, get up. You’re still not upset about leaving Adam, are you?’
Moni shook her head.
‘You know, don’t you, that to visit Lady Evelyn’s grave we need to walk four miles up a hill? Only a four-by-four can reach there, or a coach, which was my original idea when the entire group was going. Now how are you ever going to manage that!’
‘I guess I won’t then.’ Moni held her arms against her chest as if she was protecting her body.
Salma softened her tone, ‘If you practise walking now, then that would be good training for you. You can build up some stamina.’
‘You are forever planning ahead! I need to get myself back up to the car before worrying about anything else!’
Salma sighed. ‘Don’t you want to come in and see inside the castle?’
‘It’s a ruin, Salma. There’s nothing to see. You go ahead. Personally, I think seven pounds is a swindle.’
Salma paid for her ticket and entered the grounds of the castle. Lawns and clusters of ruined buildings. A map marked out the area: first on the right was the tower, strategically placed to survey all access to the castle by land, behind it were the smithy and the
