‘I know.’ He abandoned the shoes and got up off his knees.
‘I’d like you to promise me one thing before I go.’
‘Of course, anything.’
‘Can you take Badria to the hospital for an ultrasound?’
‘Is there something wrong with the baby?’ he asked, concern written all over his face.
‘No, absolutely not, but I need you to do this for me. Promise?’
‘I will, but you’ll be back to deliver Badria’s baby, won’t you?’
Babies, thought Sofia. It was a little too early to tell yet but she suspected Badria was having twins. ‘I’ll try but I can’t promise.’
When Sofia heard her name being called she turned to see Tawfiq hurrying into the square. Turning back to Ahmad, she said, ‘I’m sorry to be leaving you. We can only hope that Allah, in His wisdom, allows us to meet again, my friend.’
Ahmad put his hand on his heart. ‘Let us hope He is kinder to you than He has been to me and my stool.’
They both laughed. ‘Take care, Ahmad, and give Badria and your children a big hug from me,’ said Sofia, feeling the inadequacy of her goodbye.
She walked over to where Tawfiq was waiting for her under the pistachio tree. ‘Tawfiq, my very special friend, my brother, how do I say goodbye to you?’
‘It is true? You’re going back to Australia?’
‘Yes, tonight,’ she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, which she knew she shouldn’t have done, especially in public, ‘but I’ll try my very best to come back soon, and hopefully Dr Jabril will be back in his surgery and life will be just as it always was.’
‘You don’t have to go. Rashid and I will protect you,’ he said, looking at Rashid, who was standing behind her, for confirmation. ‘See,’ he said, when Rashid nodded.
‘Thank you, but I think it’s best that I go for a little while.’
‘No,’ Tawfiq said, shaking his head violently. ‘No, this is your home. You mustn’t go.’
‘I’m sorry but I must – you see, my visa’s been cancelled.’ As she watched the reality sink in for Tawfiq that it wasn’t about protecting her anymore and there was nothing they could do to keep her there, she felt the grief rising up in her throat, so sharp and sudden that Sofia found it hard to speak. The two unlikely friends, whose lives had threaded through and around each other in so many unexpected ways, stood together in Shaahir Square under the pistachio tree, with no idea how to say what was truly in their hearts.
‘I’ll try to get back, Tawfiq. I’ll try really hard, I promise.’ Without realising what she was about to do, Sofia grabbed Tawfiq’s hands and held them up to her face, leaning her cheek on them. A stranger in the square might have thought it a wanton display of affection, but those who knew Sofia and Tawfiq understood and turned away.
‘Where your heart goes, there your feet will go, they say in my country,’ Tawfiq said, emotion catching in his voice.
‘If it is true then surely I will return.’
Looking around the square, which was unusually deserted for this time of day, Sofia could not see anyone else she needed to say goodbye to. Mustafa had taken to his bed after the shooting, Babur had not returned to the chaikhana and Omar was probably asleep inside his shop. Walking over to Behnaz’s gate, she turned to Rashid and handed him the surgery keys, asking if he could give them to Zahra. She wanted to hug him goodbye but that would have been going too far. Instead she put her hand on her heart and thanked him for being such a good friend and keeping her safe these past few years before telling him how much she was going to miss him. Again, her words fell far short of what she really wanted to say, which is always the way when parting with friends, she thought.
Rashid bowed low to Sofia with his hand over his heart. ‘Dr Sofia,’ was all he could say as she disappeared behind the gate. Sofia knocked on Behnaz’s door. When she didn’t answer she called, ‘I have something to tell you.’ Behnaz slowly opened the door.
‘I’m catching a flight this evening back to Sydney but –’
As Behnaz’s face collapsed she turned and rushed back inside the apartment, leaving Sofia standing at the door, not knowing what to do. She could hear Behnaz sobbing in her bedroom and desperately wanted to comfort her but found herself unable to enter Behnaz and Wasim’s private space without an invitation. Not knowing what else to do, she softly closed the door and made her way upstairs.
Back in her apartment, Sofia rang Taban to tell her she was leaving and then looked around to take stock. Nothing much had changed in the last five years. She had bought a bamboo shade for the naked bulb in the bedroom and in the first week she had moved the two cane chairs from the lounge out onto the enclosed balcony where they had stayed. A small hand-me-down two-seater lounge from Zahra – with Behnaz’s approval – had replaced the chairs in the sitting room.
Five years and that’s all I’ve changed, she thought. I haven’t left much of a mark.
The laminated kitchen cupboards had been badly painted green by Behnaz’s nephew two years earlier, and while more green tiles had found their way into the bathroom to replace the disintegrating white ones, the last two were pink. When Sofia commented on this Behnaz had explained that the green tiles she preferred were discontinued and the only ones she could get for the price she was willing to pay were pink. She thought the pink tiles looked very nice.
‘Very retro,’ Sofia had offered.
Taking her suitcase off the top of the wardrobe, Sofia laid it on the bed. There really wasn’t much she needed to take back to Sydney, unlike the overstuffed suitcase she had arrived with. She sorted the clothes into two piles: one for
