‘Who said I was interested?’
‘Drinks?’
‘A coffee at the Serena doesn’t mean anything,’ Sofia said, giving her attention to the dignitaries, including Jabril, who seemed unable to decide what the appropriate seating arrangement on stage should be.
Leaning in, Zahra whispered, ‘Or it could mean something. Besides,’ she said, settling back in her seat, ‘a little bird might have whispered something in my ear.’
Sofia shook her head. ‘Tawfiq has a vivid imagination.’
‘Really? You think so? I always thought Tawfiq to be a very perceptive man.’
25
DANIEL WAS HAPPY Sofia had chosen the Char Chata Lounge. With its crimson painted arches, Moroccan brass light fittings hanging low from the pink arched ceilings and intricately carved wooden privacy screens on the windows, it reminded him of Marrakech. The arched walls also provided relatively intimate spaces for its patrons: a perfect space for making an apology and handing over a letter he’d been carrying around for far too long.
Choosing two large seats in an alcove away from everyone else, Daniel was thinking how easy it had been to find Sofia in the garden in her silver and blue salwar kameez among all the heavy blacks, and how he liked that she was confident enough to be different, when she arrived along with the waiter. Making small talk about the fundraiser, Daniel waited until their drinks arrived before lifting his glass.
‘A toast,’ he said, ‘to the village and all its gifts.’
‘The village and all its gifts, especially you, Daniel Abiteboul.’
‘Me?’ he said, after they’d drunk. He couldn’t think of one single reason Sofia would consider him a gift.
‘You showed me other possibilities.’
He was still confused.
‘It was you who suggested I train midwives, and that was an important moment in my life. I think Jabril and I had both realised I needed more than the surgery to stay. Once he heard about my midwifery in the village he used his connections to help me find my next group of village women, and the midwifery grew organically from there. He also introduced me to Taban, which got me into volunteer work in Jamal Mina. So you, Daniel Abiteboul,’ she said, pointing at him with a finger from the hand holding the glass, ‘showed me what my life in Afghanistan might look like and, thus, you’re the reason I’m still here.’
She could have no idea how much he hated the suggestion that he was responsible for her remaining in Afghanistan. He could not, and would not, be responsible ever again. She must have sensed something was wrong because she asked him if he was okay.
‘Yeah, yeah, fine,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘After that confession, perhaps I should tell you how meeting you changed my life also.’ What was it about Sofia that made him want to confess things? It was an interesting experience for a man who was obsessively private.
‘By all means.’
As she happily rearranged the cushions in the overly large chair to make herself more comfortable he couldn’t help noticing how the glow from the overhead brass light fittings was reflected in the lights in her hair.
‘Meeting you made me realise how much I’d been missing normal interaction with people at the time.’ Daniel laughed, a little embarrassed by what he was about to say. ‘Actually, with a woman, if you want to know the absolute truth.’ He was pleased to see his words had gone down well, although he hadn’t missed the blush. He wondered if it meant she was thinking about the same thing he was thinking about, which he could feel arousing him. It had not been what he had intended. ‘You also made me realise that I’d stopped being curious about the world, and if you’re not curious about the world then you’re not really living, are you?’
‘Seriously, I did that?’
Her confusion surprised him, although it shouldn’t have. He knew enough about human nature to know that how we saw ourselves rarely gelled with how the world saw us. As a negotiator for MSF it had been Daniel’s job to see past the public projections to the person beneath. Sofia may not have been aware that the sheer joy and wonder of life was what she had been projecting back in the village. It was a compelling trait. ‘You were happy and curious and full of wonder about the villagers and the joy of just being there. Everything excited you. Until you came it felt like I was just moving through the days, doing what needed to be done.’
This was the perfect time to make the apology, but he found himself hesitating. He didn’t want to spoil the moment.
‘Why do you say you were just moving through your days?’ Sofia asked. ‘Tell me more about you. We never really talked that much about ourselves back then, did we?’
Daniel’s attention was momentarily caught by two of Massoud’s henchmen in suits taking the seats in the alcove opposite them. He wouldn’t have even known who they were if he hadn’t been watching Sofia, waiting for her to finish her conversation with the warlord before approaching her at the fundraiser. It could be a coincidence that they had sat so close or it might not.
Turning back to Sofia, he lowered his voice to answer her question. ‘No, we didn’t.’ He knew that had been his fault. He had wanted only to enjoy what they had together rather than muddy it with their pasts. ‘After the village I went to live in Geneva, using it as a base to travel to different parts of the world negotiating for MSF. I was in and out of Afghanistan a few times and now there’s this UN report. Not much in my life but work.’
‘Come on, Daniel,’ she said, slipping her sandals off and tucking her feet up under her on the chair. It made him smile. The only other woman he had known who did that was Alice. He wondered whether it was an
