“Lots of guys wanted you when we were together.”
“Who? What are you talking about? What are you saying?”
“Who? What are you talking about? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I thought you’d have a lot of of ers and that you’d take one.”
“Yes, and that’s al I needed, o ers, and I’d accept them, because anyone wil do, after al , what does it mat er, one man is as good as another. And by the way I had no o ers at al . Because everyone knew how I felt. Because for a year I couldn’t even see straight. Literal y. I thought I was going blind. Every morning I’d wake up with blurred vision. I thought I had a brain tumor and I didn’t care, because I didn’t want to go on living without you.”
“You were angry.”
“No, I wasn’t angry. Because I’m an idiot. I should have said to myself, wel forget him, because he obviously doesn’t love you because if he loved you he wouldn’t do this to you. But al I thought about was how you didn’t understand and I just had to explain it to you. But now I realize that there’s nothing to understand. You knew how I felt and you didn’t care. Those statues, they’re just lies. And since when are you a sculptor anyhow?”
“I always liked doing that sort of thing, as you know.”
“I don’t know anything about you, apparently.”
“Do you want a dif erent kind of tea? Or maybe some hummus?”
“No thanks.” I got up from the table and began inspecting my surroundings. The bed was covered with an elaborate embroidered bedspread.
“Where did you get the bedspread?”
“It was a gift from the mother of one of the kids I taught.”
I examined the CDs and books and videos on his shelves. He had al the latest music, along with his old favorites. He had the most recent novels, too.
There were a few books in Arabic. “Was Arabic hard to learn?”
“Pret y hard.”
“El a said you’re a teacher now.”
“I teach at the local school.”
“Wel , you always were brainy. I guess you designed this house?”
“Yes.”
“Who built it?”
“Local builders.”
“Did they think it was weird?”
“No, they liked it. This house isn’t mine, technical y. I rent the land, and I rent the house. But the plot was vacant, so I designed the house myself. The owners got a good deal.”
“How could you af ord it?”
“My mother sold Granny’s flat and sent me the money. She figured I’d need it, wherever I was.”
“I can’t believe she never told me she was writing to you.”
“One of the things she mentioned in her let ers was that you’d stopped going over to see them, or answering their cal s. So she probably never had a chance to tel you.”
“How could you not answer her let ers?”
“She never asked for an answer. She always wrote, I know that you’re receiving my let ers, and that’s enough for me.”
“Yes, that’s why I was so angry at your family—they thought it should be enough for me, too.”
“No, they knew perfectly wel that it wasn’t. My mother chided me quite a bit about that.”
“Real y?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you pick up the let ers I wrote you at the start? Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?”
“You would have been even angrier if the let ers had been picked up and you never got an answer. But you kept me informed through your interviews.”
“That’s what El a said. Wel , it would have been a lot easier to write to you! Did you see my ads?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get the people here to trust you right in the middle of the riots? How come they didn’t kil you?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Tel me.” I leaned against the wal , my arms stil folded. Daniel remained sit ing at the table, drinking his tea.
“I didn’t come here to move in. I got into a taxi outside the hospital and I told the driver to take me to an isolated part of the coast. He lived in a coastal set lement, as it happened. It was just a uke. He dropped me o at
