Moni prayed that she would return safely to her son. She prayed that he would be all right while she was away. Through her tears, she saw the familiar orange sign of Sainsbury’s. It had been a long time since she was in a supermarket. She ordered everything online and had it delivered. Weeks passed in which all she did was take Adam back and forth to the doctor, to the district nurse and to Salma, his massage therapist. It got harder, not easier. And she needed every cell in her brain and every ounce of energy to look after him.
Salma drove fast, out of the city. She had chosen to take the longer route because it afforded the better road. The speed made her aggressive. ‘The loch is a great place, Moni. Beautiful scenery. There are forest trails where we can go for walks. We can go on a boat. You’ll love it. And then, inshallah, we will accomplish our goal and read Fatiha at Lady Evelyn’s grave. There’ll be a selfie of us stuck online showing everyone that, yes, we’ve done it!’
Through her sobs, Moni managed to say, ‘Thanks, Salma.’ When Salma had found her telling the baffled nurses that she wanted to stay, she had, to Moni’s relief, taken control of the situation. Gentle and firm, she had eased Adam out of her arms and reassured her yet again that he would be in the best of care. Adam had not understood that she was leaving him, and she was grateful for that. She now wondered if he cared that he was the only black child. If he even noticed. Sometimes at home, looking into his eyes, she searched for things other than the dull pain, other than the acceptance. The staff had been kind and patient with her. Every medical establishment Moni had encountered through the NHS was full of sympathy and understanding. While all Murtada could say was: We must behave normally. Life goes on. He said this when she was still refusing to have sex three whole months after the birth. When she did not want to go back home on holiday. Eventually they did go to Sudan for Murtada’s brother’s wedding, but people were so unkind about Adam, so blatantly curious, at turns blaming her (it had to be someone’s fault) and pitying her, that she was miserable. She began to keep Adam not only indoors but in her room, away from the prying visitors, who seemed to be attracted to him as a grotesque curiosity.
Before his birth, Moni had been active, positive and smiling, with her high-powered bank job and independence. Murtada had courted her for years before she succumbed. At first, she had not judged him good enough for her and assumed she could do better. It was his own matter-of-fact awareness of this which caught her attention, his blunt, ‘I know your family is better off than mine, I know that you are socially higher, but I will not take a penny from you because that’s not why I want you,’ which roused her admiration. He was a chartered accountant specialising in corporate finance and they had met when he was securing a loan through her bank. She was impressed and humbled by his dedication to his career and perseverance; his efforts at improving himself touched her, his ambitions for gaining international experience captured her imagination. She wanted a large family and his instinct to provide – ‘I will pamper you even more than your family pampered you. I will do anything for you’ – won her over. She loved how he described his very first impression of her on the day they met – bust straining against the tailored jacket she was wearing, her hijab tied slick, the ruthless way she questioned his proposal. This truly was how she had been. Then Adam’s birth bulldozed her. After that failed visit back home, she stood up to Murtada. ‘I will not take Adam there again. I will not take him to those backward fools.’ Murtada had replied, ‘These fools are our flesh and blood.’ But she didn’t care. She became one of those women to whom things were clear-cut. Everything back there was bad, and everything here was good.
The more they slept apart – she with Adam and Murtada on his own – the more they disliked each other. Murtada was not comfortable with Adam and she could not forgive him for this. Just the sight of Adam depressed Murtada. He would gaze at him with bewilderment and dismay. Murtada wanted a cure, he wanted state-of-the-art surgery and strong medication. It took him time to accept that nothing could be done. When he did accept this fact, after an inner tussle and genuine agony, he wrote Adam off. He shelved him. We must go on and live our lives as fully as possible, he said to Moni. We must have other children. We must be happy. We cannot let his condition rule us. All this fell on deaf ears. Moni was busy. Busier than she had ever been in her life, and
