Daniel sat looking at her for a few seconds, speechless before he laughed so hard that people were turning around to look. ‘My god, Sofia!’ he said. ‘Do you have any idea how long I’ve been carrying around this guilt when obviously I was the one who should be feeling aggrieved?’
A sudden memory of a warm night under a rough blanket in a cold hut; of kisses deep and warm; of a hand tangled up in long silky red hair; of breathing in the scent of her; of being lost in her; of her body leading his. The memory was so vivid and visceral that its intensity shocked him. It also aroused him. As they sat looking at each other she smiled. She knew exactly what she was doing.
‘Tawfiq’s here,’ she said, smiling and standing as she motioned to the line of cars outside edging toward the front door. ‘I guess it’s time for me to go.’
Back in his room, Daniel threw his jacket onto the bed before retrieving the letter out of the pocket. He still hadn’t given it to her.
27
RETURNING FROM MOSQUE early the following morning, Omar was not happy to see a second night letter pinned to Behnaz’s gate, and although he was itching to see whether it explained the problem better, he left it. The problem was not his. The problem belonged to Chief Wasim and Behnaz. Maybe one of them would know what it was all about.
Carrying his chair out to the centre of the square earlier than usual, Omar sat watching Behnaz’s gate until she emerged. Ripping the night letter off the gate, she looked around the square. Omar made himself busy examining the scab on his hand that had been there for the last two months. Things didn’t mend so easily these days. Taking his time, he looked up again to see Behnaz pushing the letter deep into the pocket of her coat before heading out into the square to pick up the rubbish.
He had decided that Chief Wasim and Behnaz needed to know about the first night letter also. Getting up off his chair, Omar began shuffling across the square until he realised that he had no idea how to tell her or her husband about the first letter without admitting he had stolen it. He returned to the safety of his chair. Perhaps a better plan would arrive very soon. In the meantime, a little nap could do no harm.
* * *
COMING OUT THROUGH the gate, Sofia saw Omar asleep in his chair in the middle of the square and Rashid walking toward her with Behnaz, who was holding a bag of rubbish. After greeting them she told Behnaz that she’d been trying to ring Chief Wasim but he wasn’t answering.
‘Sometimes he doesn’t,’ she said, retrieving her broom from where she’d left it leaning against the wall.
‘I know that. I’ve left messages, but he hasn’t got back to me. Do you know how I might reach him? It’s important.’
‘What messages?’
‘Just about something he was looking into.’
‘Are you in danger?’
‘No,’ she said, laughing. ‘Will he be coming home for lunch?’
‘Yes.’
When it was clear Behnaz wasn’t going to elaborate she asked, ‘What time do you think he’ll finish lunch?’
‘When his plate’s empty.’
Sofia could see the hint of a smile on Rashid’s face as he made himself busy lighting a fresh cigarette. Sofia tried not to smile too. ‘Okay. What time do you think he’ll start lunch?’
‘When he gets here.’
‘Perfect,’ Sofia said, as if the response was exactly what she wanted to hear. ‘Those times suit me.’
‘Humph.’ Behnaz looked like she was about to disappear behind the gate again.
‘Maybe you could give him a message for me.’
‘He’s not answering his phone.’
Sofia wanted to say she knew that. That was how this whole conversation had started. Instead she turned to Rashid. ‘Are you ready?’ As Behnaz disappeared behind her gate and she and Rashid crossed the square to the surgery, Sofia wondered how the chief of police got anything done if he didn’t answer his phone or return calls. Greeting Iman in reception, she ran her eye down the hard copy of her appointments sitting on the corner of Iman’s desk and saw she had a full day.
‘Everybody in the square is sick and everybody is strange,’ offered Iman as she concentrated on filing her nails.
Sofia looked up. ‘What do you mean?’
Iman put the nail file down. ‘Well,’ she said, warming to the subject she had obviously been preparing to ambush Sofia with, ‘people are starting to say that something’s wrong in the square.’
‘I still don’t know what you mean.’
‘Well, neither do I, that’s why I’m asking you.’
‘I didn’t realise you were asking me a question.’
Iman gave Sofia one of her ‘don’t be smart with me’ looks. ‘Are you in danger, Dr Sofia?’
Sofia frowned. ‘That’s the second time someone’s asked me that in the last five minutes. Why would I be in danger?’
‘Well, Rashid’s walking you across the square again. Why would he start doing that?’
‘Because it’s his job and Dr Jabril said he should?’ Sofia saw that look again. ‘What other evidence do you have that everybody is strange and I’m in danger? By the way, are those two things linked?’
‘I don’t know, but Ahmad’s telling everyone he’s going to go to mosque every morning now, and Hadi’s giving everyone more than they pay for, and Mustafa told my mother that Babur’s acting strange, and Omar … Well, he’s always acting strange these days, but Iqbal says Omar’s up to no good, and Behnaz just told my mother she was too busy to have her usual cup of tea with her, and when my mother asked why she told her to mind her own business.’
Sofia was glad when Iman finally drew breath. ‘That was a bit harsh.’
‘Exactly,’ Iman said, picking up the nail file and pointing it at Sofia
